There is said to be nine planes of existence but only four have been witnessed. This is a narrative of the fall of those gods and goddesses known as the ekimmu who dwelt in the north on several large islands, the fae kingdoms of Leth`Evana; mortal enemies of ekimmu and deadly creatures this physical plane calls elf. The Shadow realm has many names and is said to be the home of creatures that have no form but feed from all life in all planes; the wraiths.

The last realm was made known after the fall; Terre de Brume, an endless nothing and prison for fallen gods. Death would have been better; if truth was known, but then most of what shall be relayed has been lost in time where the names have only become myth and suggestion.

In the Isles of Briton and Eire lived the pantheon of the ekimmu; Arianrhod and her ilk. Arianrhod was the Moon-Mother ekimmu Goddess who was known throughout the land for her stunning beauty. She was ruler of Caer Sidi, a magical realm in the north. She was worshiped as priestess of the moon. The benevolent silver sky-lady came down from her pale white chariot in the heavens to watch more closely over the tides she ruled. Arianrhod was also called the Silver Wheel because the dead were carried on her Oar Wheel to Emania (the Moon-land or land of death), which belonged to her as a deity of reincarnation. Arianrhod was the daughter of the Goddess Don and the sister of Gwydion. Gwydion was counselor to his sister as they grew from their childhood. Their sire was the God Taranis, who only ever left his own contemplation; it seems was to beget more offspring. Don was of Leth`Evana, Don was fae.

“Gwydion!” she laughed softly as her womb-mate and twin froze a messenger as he tried to run from the throne room.

“Yes sister?” he asked innocently.

Their blue eyes mirrored the other but where her hair was white-silver, his was a golden blonde color that shone like the sun itself. He wore only leather skin pants and a thick fur around his pale shoulders as he lay lazily upon a dais next to her throne. A natural mark wrought its way from his right shoulder across his sculpted pectorals to his navel. It appeared like ice and a long finger traced the mark and Arianrhod stared into her twin’s eyes.

“You are positively evil.” She chirped playfully.

Arianrhod was wearing only a silk binding around her breasts and a low slung wrap skirt with platinum chains making tinkling sounds as she stood up. Upon her head she wore a wreath of flowers that signaled the final coming of spring and neither twin wore their reed sandals at the moment, why should they in their own personal throne room of Caer Sidi?

“The messenger did bring some rather disturbing news though.” Arianrhod said seriously for a moment as she sat upon Gwydion’s dais.

“Oh Sister please stop fretting and being all ruler on me. Come and lay with me for a moment.” Gwydion commanded.

She looked at the angel of a man who really and truly co-ruled with her and she smiled. He was a trickster; bad tempered, controlled snow and ice itself (the Sky dragons did not worship him for nothing), powerful, lied as easily as he spoke, and had an unexplainable hatred for their half-brother Fionn Hammel.

She sighed and lay beside him and they stared deeply into the other’s eyes. The threat was one they had not had to face in a very long time. When she was much younger, by almost a millennium, she had waged war against the enemy for things done against HER personally. Personal memories assaulted her and Arianrhod had to look away.

“Why are you still contemplating that?” Gwydion said suddenly in a bad temper.

“We were young and it was I who declared war against the Undine if you remember Gwydion. Did they or did they not kill Nwyvre?” The Moon goddess demanded.

“You know they did.” He snapped with a petulant pout.

The memories assaulted Arianrhod of her holding the broken and dead body of her very first love. Don; supposedly her mother, was the undisputed ruler of all Undine fae in Leth`Evana but she had not cared. Hate unlike anything had overcome her and there had been a storm of hurricane like proportions on the isles that day. Gwydion and Fionn had had to drag her away and calm her lest she destroy parts of Briton and Eire. Yes, that particular day had been hideous on so many levels. She had learned to not weep over it but the war she had started was one that had cost many ekimmu their very existence and many fae had been slain as the rivers of crimson had run through the veils.

“Come we shall talk no more of it, but I must meet with Fionn on the morrow.” Her voice softened to calm her very sullen twin.

“Must you?” he complained.

“Yes Gwydion, I must for the heaven’s sake! One of us actually must rule you know.” Arianrhod chided him.

“I can think of so many other wonderful things I would rather be doing sister.” Gwydion hinted at.

“Of course you can but then you always do. Now I must go and see to the lands.” Her reply came and it obviously displeased him.

“I do not give a fig about the fae anymore sister and frankly neither should you. Let Fionn or even Bilae handle the elven mess. Better yet contact Arawn!” He demanded.

“This discussion is over Gwydion. Play or whatever, but war is again on the horizon.” Arianrhod said with rising temper.

He watched his beloved sister walk out of their throne room and he sat up petrified. If she knew, if she knew the truth then not only would he loose his place by her place, but Fionn would have his way to waltz any direction he chose. The disgusting elves could not stay in Leth`Evana, where they belonged, they had to return to this plane, where ekimmu were the masters over all the underling daemons and the emerging mortals. Gwydion stood up and the brown fur fell to his dais and he too quickly left the throne room. In his rising temper, his skin was slowing taking on a blue caste to it and anyone who saw him, they would know that the “trickster” of Caer Sidi was in fact the god of snow and ice; that was the element that he commanded. Arianrhod had inherited the control of the very air itself and the ability to manipulate that particular element could be deadly. When the twins joined their elements; they were nigh unstoppable. The price they paid for commanding the very weather and elements was that they required the stuff of life itself; founts of the claret essence. The throne room stood empty except for the lone messenger waiting for the ice to melt on his foot.
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Arianrhod watched Fionn Hammel wield his hammer against the shield of one of his soldiers and he barked orders.

“Anticipate me boy! I am your enemy this moment, think as if you are me!” Fionn growled at the younger ekimmu.

Fionn was aware of HER presence, but then he was always aware of her presence. He could never forgive himself for the sin he had committed nor the aftermath of that sin. The only good thing that had come from that time was his beloved niece, Nemain. She was Gwydion’s daughter but she was a warrior like Arianrhod and him. He was training this very talented young man named Gavin Tremin; Fionn always had need of loyal and discrete warriors.

“Bravo Fionn! Who are you dear boy?” Arianrhod asked watching her warrior half-brother and leader of warriors.

“Gavin milady!” The dark haired ekimmu bowed and stopped the spar for a moment.

“Well Gavin we have need of you and very soon.” His queen stated as she neared Fionn.

“Arianrhod? What do you go on about?” Fionn demanded.

“Fionn there have been not only Undine seen on the Isles but also the Woodlawn fae.” She murmured softly.

“Because they have been seen does not mean they are here for battle Sister.” The ekimmu of Thunder stated flatly.

“One fae steps foot into my kingdom and this plane and I shall rip open their throats and drink them dry as I leave their corpses to dry into mummified husks!” came her angry cry.

“I understand you anger…” Fionn tried to say.

“THIS IS NOT ABOUT NWYVRE!” Arianrhod actually snarled and slapped her chief warrior across his strong and sculpted cheek.

“I suppose Sister that I shall find you in a bit.” He said stiffly and without emotion.

She started to stop him but held in the pain. After Nwyvre’s death, Fionn had gotten terribly drunk on fae blood and spirits and the man that was truly Fionn was bared. Arianrhod loved him deeply but he shut her out of his mind and heart after that night and she had done something wretched; she allowed Gwydion to claim and raise Nemain as his own daughter. Neither man knew any different, nor did she have no intention of changing it. Gwydion was her consort/co-ruler and Fionn was their lead warrior, it was all as it should be. She felt the eyes of the young warrior on her and she looked at him sharply.

“Yes young Gavin?” She demanded coldly.

“Hitting Fionn milady?” he boldly asked.

“Never question who has the rule here boy. Fionn knows this as I am the very air in which you breathe.” Arianrhod said closing the space between him and the arrogant boy.

Gavin only wore a navy blue tunic that skimmed his ankles and it was belted with a thick braided leather belt. He wore woven leather sandals and held a round bronze colored shield. His eyes narrowed and she noticed they were hazel. His skimmed his shoulders in all one length.

“Kneel.” Her voice rang throughout the practice arena that was comprised of sand and in the shape of the stones.

Gavin actually grew afraid and Arianrhod stood over him as her eyes began to take on a turbulent and stormy blue that would glow in the dark. Her white-silver was down and came to above her backside. She ripped the flower diadem from her head and threw them away.

“Give me your wrist.” She demanded.

He did as he was told and she viciously bit into his forearm and began to drink forcefully. There was no pleasure in this act, it was a lesson to be given and Gavin was horrified to be fed from as if he was one of the mortals or lesser daemons. Arianrhod drained much of his life force and raised her bare foot and shoved him backwards with much force.

“Next time you question me on anything Gavin Tremin, you will not be reborn, and you will only be dead.” She stated as she walked away with blood stained lips.

He could only lie upon the sand floor of the sparring arena and he found that he hated the queen of all ekimmu.
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