0106 The Past
At the end of October 1979, as the night fell, the streets and alleys of Edinburgh, the capital of Scotland, were bathed in a festive atmosphere. The city was celebrating Halloween, the ancient Celtic festival of Samhain, when the veil between the living and the dead was said to be the thinnest. However, the untimely, off-season thunderstorm could not stop people from dressing up in costumes, carving pumpkins, and trick-or-treating. The rain poured down relentlessly, creating puddles and splashes on the cobblestone pavement. The wind howled and whipped the branches of the trees, making them creak and groan. The lightning flashed and illuminated the dark sky, followed by the thunder that shook the windows and doors.
On the south shore of Forth Bay, Holyrood Palace (Holy Cross Palace), standing at the end of the Royal Mile, was brightly lit. The palace was the official residence of the British monarch in Scotland, and had witnessed many historical events and intrigues. The dense rain curtain draped a hazy coat over this ancient palace soaked in historical atmosphere, but it still could not stop the murderous and bloodthirsty aura that lingered around it.
Inside the palace, a secret meeting was taking place among a group of fanatics who called themselves the Holy Thorns. They were a radical faction of the Church, who believed that they were chosen by God to purge the world of all evil heretics and sinners. They had a special hatred for druids, whom they considered to be even more evil and blasphemous than ordinary magic users. They had also infiltrated many institutions and organizations in the Muggle world, using their influence and resources to further their agenda.Fôllôw new stories at novelhall.com
A roar that could overwhelm billions of drops of rain hitting the ground at the same time sounded sharply and harshly. The garage of the palace opened wide, and thirteen black cars drove out of the garage one after another. They were armored vehicles with tinted windows and bulletproof tires. They carried weapons and explosives that could cause massive destruction. Along the predetermined route, they broke through the rain curtain and disappeared into the night. Their destination was a remote village in the Scottish Highlands, where they had received a tip that a group of heretics were hiding. Tonight, they would launch a surprise attack on them, hoping to wipe them out in one fell swoop.
Tonight, the holy thorns would defend the glory of the Lord.
In the city center, a happy birthday song came from a three-story building with a Georgian design style. The building was painted in a warm yellow color, with white window frames and flower pots on the balcony. It looked cozy and inviting in contrast to the gloomy weather outside. Outside the door, pumpkin lamps hanging on the eaves swayed in the wind and rain, and their swaying rhythm seemed to be celebrating for the little owner in the house.
In the fireplace by the wall, neatly stacked oak wood was burning vigorously. The fire crackled and cast a warm glow on the living room. On the wall opposite to the fireplace, wrapped by mistletoe around the edge, a golden apple made up of thousands of strange golden acorns shone brightly under the firelight. The golden apple was a magical artifact that belonged to Cliodna's family. It was passed down from generation to generation among her ancestors, who were druids from Ireland. The druids were an ancient order of priests who worshipped nature and practiced magic based on natural elements and cycles. They had a deep connection with plants and animals, especially trees. The golden apple was said to contain the wisdom and power of all druids who ever lived.
Mr. Coffey leaned on the window sill and withdrew his gaze from the endless darkness outside. He turned to look at the dining room, where his family was having a birthday dinner for Cliodna. His daughter, who was wearing a golden gauze dress and a crown made of vines on her head, was smiling very happily. She looked like a fairy princess from a storybook. His eyes showed infinite love.
However, there was always anxiety on that handsome face that could not be dissipated. He knew that his daughter's life was not as simple as it seemed. He knew that she had inherited not only his magic, but also his destiny.
"Dear?"
The graceful Mrs. Coffey gently brushed her daughter's temples. She noticed her husband's strangeness. Taking advantage of her daughter's conversation with her grandparents, she walked quickly to the window and tried to use a smile to dispel her husband's uneasiness.
"This is a rare opportunity for reunion, dear. You should spend more time with your family."
"Sorry, Hera–"
Faced with his wife's concern, Mr. Coffey also smiled hard. He looked again at the stormy night outside with thunderous rumbling. After a while, he sighed heavily.
"I just feel very uneasy in my heart, Hera. I always feel that something is going to happen."
A slender hand pressed on Mr. Coffey's heart. The palm felt his chaotic heartbeat. Mrs. Coffey sighed slightly,
"I know what you are worried about, dear, but"
Mrs. Coffey looked at her daughter who jumped into her father's arms and was acting coquettishly. She lowered her eyes and sighed again,
"This is her wish, dear. She hopes to spend this birthday with her grandparents. You know that she will have a heavy burden on her in the future. I can't refuse–"
Mr. Coffey said nothing. He gazed silently at his daughter who was as lovely as an elf. In his light green eyes, there was not only pain but also hatred.
"When we go back this time, I want to persuade my teacher to move all his disciples out of the jungle. There are many clues that show that it is no longer safe there."
Mr. and Mrs. Coffey took a deep breath and eased the slightly tense atmosphere between them. They opened their arms and greeted their daughter who had a red face and an innocent smile on her face.
Boom!
At this moment, the earth suddenly fell into violent tremors. The space above the first floor of the house disappeared as if it had been hit by a big hammer. The dust in the sky had not yet had time to show off, but it was already mixed with rainwater into mud.
The suddenly darkened world, a cluster of white holy light fell from the sky like a meteor, piercing into the ground!
The bright red blood, the piercing screams, the cold crying could not be suppressed by the thunderous thunder.
"Woo, I will take revenge!"
Among the broken walls, the little girl stood in a pile of acorns stained red by blood and cried helplessly. Several bodies with no light in their eyes fell before and after her, their palms weakly reaching out to her.
"I will kill you all!"
The childish voice made an unyielding oath to fate with deep hatred. Although determined, it could not make fate move.
"Evil heretics."
A cold verdict came from the rain curtain, and the holy light that washed away the earth flashed again, replacing the blackness that enveloped the world in an instant, trying to wipe out all the seeds that dared to resist in the soil.
In the broken fireplace, the charred oak suddenly bloomed with bright green light. A small sprout stretched its body and grew out of the ashes symbolizing death. In a blink of an eye, it became a towering tree, blocking the holy light.
"I'm sorry, Cliodna–"
The old priest with green hair and green eyes ignored the howls of those believers who were pierced by the treetops. He walked step by step to Cliodna's side and gently hugged her frail shoulders. On his old face, rainwater mixed with tears and sweat ran freely.
"Why, teacher, sob sob, why don't they leave us alone?"
The little girl no longer suppressed her crying and burst into tears. She sobbed uncontrollably, letting out all her emotions.
"We almost forgot where this hatred started from, Cliodna, and we don't know when it will end."
The old priest's voice was sad, but his green eyes showed perseverance.
"The only thing we can do is fight to the end!"
Author's Note: This text is a work of fiction and does not reflect any real religious views or beliefs. It is intended for entertainment purposes only and does not aim to offend anyone's sentiments.
/FicFrenzy