Wild Hunt

The time was now. Bryn lifted the horn to his lips and sounded its call across the glen. The mist was thick, but he could hear the sounds of battle begin to rise as his brothers armed up and climbed astride their mounts.

This was the chance they’d all been waiting for, and the mortals wouldn’t know what was coming for them. The Veil had been rent one last time, and finally the barrier was broken. Bryn tossed his head, antlers gleaming in the early morning sun. When the light struck his skin, green glimmered beneath the nut-brown of his tan. All who saw him would know that he was no human.

The time for the wild hunt had come.

King Cerne was majestic astride his stag, spear in hand. The other hunters - Cernunnos, Orion, Weiryn, Pan, Pashupati, the Green Man - drew their steeds up alongside him and waited for the second clarion call, the signal that the Rainbow Bridge had reached the other side.

Bryn leapt astride his steed and pulled up beside the others. The stag stamped, jittery with the excitement of war in the air. Bryn took the chance to string his bow, spell his arrows to come back to him after kills, and then a ripple of whispers broke through the mist.

There, atop a nightmare black steed, was the Red Queen, painted with woad, armed with sword and shield.

Cerne bowed his head to his Queen, and Morrigan smiled at him. Her lips were already stained with blood.

(254 words)