The Sentinels the summoning

he who must not be named

after meeting with the man, father of rannoch, deirdre had taken to the woods and moved well beyond them, to the line of sand and sea donnelaith kept. the night was young, and overhead the clouds hung low. the promise of a storm was in the air, so thick was the scent that it could be tasted. as she lingered in her distress, her emerald eyes turned toward the depths and a peel of thunder sounded off.

and then she prayed!

she prayed to the Fair Folk and the Old Ones both, and she prayed to those that her beloved might pray to, too, when seeking guidance. she cast her circle and felt the protection of the elements snap to life around her as she spoke: iad a chosaint! deirdre looked to the heavens, looked to the sea, and spoke reverently, adoringly: le do thoil, iad a chosaint ó aon olc a d'fhéadfadh a befall iad, her voice was humble and she bowed, and then deirdre fell into thanking them, her voice melodic and a comfort in its repitition. thank you, thank you, thank you--please, please!

she did not notice the ocean before her giving shape to something unknown and terrible. deirdre had forgotten, again, of prices that must be paid.