Mage | Elemental Magic | Earth |
Sword Mage | Ancestral Bloodline | Seneschal.
֍ Cam was born on April 12, 1985 in Edinburgh, Scotland, during a thunderstorm that knocked out the power, at The Simpson Centre for Reproductive Health at the Royal Infirmary of Edinburgh. It is the regional centre for complex pregnancy and childbirth and has a neonatal intensive care unit on site. Cam was a breech birth and premature at 3lbs 7oz. He entered the world the sound of thunder and the noise of a generator for the portable lights the medical staff needed to see by.
Portents, much?
The number one song on the charts this day was 'We Are The World' by USA For Africa, a hopeful tune that matched well with the philosophies of his family and the others who bear a Fae sword: make the world a better place. The MacKinlay family had no real choice in the matter, as they were one of about two dozen or so families who were given a sword generations ago by the Fae, 'the guid folk', to fight the Darkness that was coming to the world. It could be said that these families were blessed, though some regarded it as a curse. To-may-to, to-mah-to.
His mother, Heather, was a kind and loving woman and a doctor, focusing on women's health and childbirth. She herself birthed four healthy children, three girls and one boy, who also happened to be the youngest.
His father, Angus, was a gentle man with a dry sense of humour and a landscaper with his own company, MacKinlay Landscapes (oddly enough), before becoming the seneschal and wielder of the Fear-glèidhidh creidimh or 'Faithkeeper'. He continued to work with his son and daughter, but they took on more of the jobs as the Sword commanded more of his time. The sword passed to him upon the death of his father, Iain, patrilineal nonsense that it is. Grandad Iain lasted until he was eighty-five, a very good age for such an occupation as seneschal. More on this shortly.
Cam has three older sisters - Isla, Bonnie and Fiona - so as the youngest and the only boy, he was both spoiled and picked on in equal measure. He was a very energetic boy, loved sports and the outdoors. He was equally happy playing in the dirt as he was, once old enough, playing basketball and football ('soccer' in North America). The children would sometimes accompany their father to landscaping jobs and two of them, Cam and his sister, Fiona, worked with him as they grew, both possessing a 'green thumb' and a hearty interest in the land. They took on jobs between school and the occasional summer employment with local businesses, signing up with their father officially once they graduated from university. Cam did very well in school, academically, athletically and, mostly socially. Some things he couldn't share with anyone not family. He took Environmental Studies and Sustainable Garden Design and the like, fully intending to join his father's company. He studied his Msc in Sustainability & Environmental Studies at The University of Strathclyde, Glasgow. Fiona took Architecture, but worked at landscaping when she didn't have a project to focus upon.
Cam's affinity with the plants and ground led to him reading about Elemental magic in his twenties, especially those associated with the Earth. Considering his family's curse, what was more magic in the mix? It might come in handy. He also pursued healing potions and spells that could be generated using herbs and flowers and such. He continued to study when he had the time, but didn't give it serious focus until his early thirties. He does not have a mentor.
Angus, fit at any age, taught Cam how to fight with a sword the way his father had taught him and so on back in time. Determined and competitive, the younger MacKinlay practiced hard and became very adept at using a sword and other bladed weapons. Eventually, he was able to best his father in some of their later matches.
Unfortunately, it seems that Cam's father, Angus, did not have his father's skill. or connection with the sword. Something didn't quite click, making using the sword a challenge when it shouldn't have been. Before any attempt at securing an appointment with the Fae could be resolved - making an appointment with them these days it like trying to make an appointment with the Dali llama - he was killed by a member of the Unseelie Court who, among other things, objected to a human having an item made by the Fae, even though it was given to the MacKinlay ancestors by the Seelie Court. (The day the Seelie and Unseelie agree on anything will be one for the history books, for those who write about that sort of thing.)
Angus was sixty-five when he died. The family knows who the killer was since he brought Angus's body back to their flat, rather dramatically in the middle of the night, and told a terrified Heather his name (though not his True Name) and the reason for taking her husband's life. He was unable to take the Faithkeeper for himself, as it made itself scarce once Angus breathed his last breath. It appeared to Cam, the next MacKinlay male in line, at his flat, stabbed into the soil of dracaena marginata. He promptly called his father's mobile and, as suspected, there was no answer. Cam called his mother next and after a brief, broken conversation, he made his way to their flat, sword in hand.
There was information to be conveyed to him from Heather, while it was fresh in her memory, which he made quick hand-written notes of using pen and paper for telephone messages because it was handy. It was difficult to do such things with his father's body sprawled on his back in the living room, rigor mortis having already settled in the muscles of his face. His mother, ever practical, was able to tell him that meant approximately two hours must have passed, at least, since Angus had died. Somehow, they managed to get through this nightmare. There would be time for proper grieving later. Cam called his sisters next, letting them know of their father's passing and how it happened. They and their families, in the case of the two older ones, prepared to come to the apartment. The eldest, Isla, a caster of sorts, would then place a protective spell on the flat in case the Unseelie tried to take out the rest of the family.
Before they arrived, Cam, also practical, removed his father's ring, took photos of the scene with his phone and called an ambulance. The grandchildren, of which there were three, didn't need to see their Poppa like this. They should remember him vital and laughing and Cam wouldn't steal that memory from them. His mum would tell the police a version of what happened, leaving out knowing the killer and what was told to her. Officially, she came home to find her husband lying there with no further knowledge of what happened.
Thus, at the age of thirty-six, Cam became the seneschal for the sword, which he named 'Agatha' for ease.
According to Scottish legend, death is never a surprise. Whether or not his father knew it was coming, his family will never know.
The family held a wake for two days at the flat, without the deceased, who rested at a funeral home. Angus Iain Roger MacKinlay was buried before the week was out. Those in attendance included members of the other seneschal families who could make it to Edinburgh and friends of the family who were horrified by the murder but otherwise unaware of the true nature of what occurred. Before the funeral, he visited a well-known tattoo artist in Glasgow named Siobhan who could apply ink with magic and she worked several days in a row on the tattoo on his back: a scabbard to sheath Agatha. All most people would see is the tattoo and his movements would not be compromised when the sword was sheathed. It would be concealed and also easy to reach.
Cam knew he needed to have a mage other than himself to attune the sword and the ring, which acted as a shield when cast, to him, as he had to be part of the spells. However, he didn't want to waste any more time in pursuing his father's killer. After the wake, he said goodbye to his family and guests, only the family knowing what he going to attempt. Taking Agatha and the ring, his wallet, keys and passport, along with some smaller knives and a lock of his father's hair, he donned his kilt, a cable knit sweater and hiking boots and met with Kevin, a tracker of the supernatural he had contacted after his father's murder and together, they began the search for the Fae responsible.
֍ Yesterday
In fairly short order, considering, the trail led them to Fas na Cloiche and the Fairy Bridge at Glen Creran. It had been two days since the funeral. It was early evening, the car park was empty. The mixed woodland of Coille Mheadonach, with pine and oak, was beautiful, but didn't really register with Cam. He and Kevin took the small road up the glen. They passed a picnic table and took a gentle hill beside a stream. Another bridge, a waterfall, the oaks were left behind to a more open area of birch. They continued to climb and weave their way, Kevin in the lead. More muddy paths and woods, then through a gap in the fence, the Fairy Bridge came into view. It was a lovely, small stone bridge above a waterfall, though it was not running in the summer and more of a muddy patch leading under the bridge. The two men paused in the bluebells and wild garlic of an early summer evening and considered their options.
"So, the trail ends heer?"
"Aye," Kevin replied.
Cam sighed. "Looks haremliss."
"Aye," Kevin replied. "Though Ah dinny ken weer i' goes."
"Fit ye on aboot?"
"I' goes soomweer, but Ah dinny ken weer i' goes."
"Shite."
"Aye," Kevin replied. Cam had given his friend the side-eye, but left it alone. If the path under the bridge went somewhere other than where it appeared to go, which was out the other side, then that is what it did. Kevin would know better than most.
"Weel, Ah guiss thas weer Ah go, then." They shook hands. "Weesh me luk."
"Aul t' luk in t' whorld, Cam."
So, Angus Cameron Iain MacKinlay walked cautiously under the Fairy Bridge at Glen Creran, sword at the ready. It was a longer journey than he was expecting, with the passage becoming tunnel walls shifting from natural stone to something more akin to concrete. When he emerged from this tunnel, not sure how much time had passed, Cam found himself in a wooded area. It was much darker out than it had been when he'd entered. He turned in a slow circle and faced a bridge, but it wasn't the Fairy Bridge. It was a stone bridge, but made with a different type of stone which had been reinforced under the arch with concrete. There were small lights along the sides at intervals so no one would trip in the dark.
The trees were different. The air smelled different. Of Kevin, there was no sign.
Using the pocket flashlight attached to his keys, Cam did find a few signs, though, just of a different kind. The bridge was named 'Eden Arch', according to the plaque he located nearby. There were other signs: 'To the Office' with an arrow pointing to the right, and 'To the Lake' and beneath it 'Eden Cemetery' with arrows pointing to the left. He turned left at random and eventually found what appeared to be an entrance, or exit, to the area, and a parking lot.
Lamp posts harkening to an earlier time, perhaps the turn of the Twentieth Century, were set at even intervals around the empty parking lot. A few old flood lights illuminated the entrance, making humming and popping noises, where moths battered themselves against the clear covering trying to reach their perceived Nirvana.
He continued on a path to Eden Cemetery. The sign here stated this was one of the oldest cemeteries on the East Coast. He raised Agatha and sheathed her behind him, sliding into the tattoo, just as it should, and disappearing. He stared: The East Coast. A few feet along was a map, indicating the mausoleums with family names beside them. Doubtless, the movers and shakers of the area given the obvious care to maintain the park-like environment. Apparently, there was an art installation nearby. Another sign with an arrow indicated a path to the lake. Cam could see several large statues further in, watching over the dead. He imagined their heads turning to look his way. He smiled a little at the thought and encountered yet another sign.
'Please be respectful while you peruse Eden Cemetery. No radios, loud conversation or disturbance will be tolerated. Do not litter. Fine $1,000.' And finally, there was the kicker: 'This park and the structures and gardens within are the property of the City of Easthaven, Massachusetts. Any person or persons who cause damage to the property or the breaking of any established laws therein will be pursued to the full extent of the law.'
"Fock," he said tightly, tucked his keys away in his leather jacket and pulled out his mobile. After a few rings, Kevin answered.
'Yer damn rate i' went soomweer," Cam all but shouted, without preamble. "Ah'm in fockin' Massachusetts!"