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Trinity

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"I am going to stop you, Granny. I am going to make sure that you never leave here again."

"STOP! CALLING! ME! GRANNY!" She bellowed each word out as if it were its own sentence, its own declaration. There was so much anger in her voice at the time that the force of it, literally, shook the blackened trees around us. I had to wonder if it was just her voice that was shaking the trees or if it was her magic.

"I won't stop calling you what you are. Do you want me to stop because you don't want people to know how ancient and decrepit that you truly are?" She narrowed her eyes at me, her anger getting stronger and stronger.

There was a reason I was doing this. I wanted her to be so angry at me that she wasn't fighting in top form. I knew that she was powerful, as was I, but we didn't need to have a fight to the death to know who the top contender was here.

"You will die for your insolence. I will see to that you little bitch." Solanum was ready for this to be over. That's fine, so was I.

"If you think you can kill me, Granny, then just try it."

That was all the prompting that Solanum needed. Her face contorted to match the rage in her eyes and that was when she flung herself at me. I was faster than she had expected though, because I leapt out of her way before she could even lay one finger on me.

I rolled to the side, landed back on my feet, and spun to face the evil Fae all in one swift and fluid movement. Solanum looked angry, pissed, and vicious. She didn't look humanish at all, all I could see was an animalistic nature rolling off of her. I think she was starting to channel her true Kelpie form.

This was going to be it. This was the moment that we were going to fight for real. And I was going to use everything that I had in me to win this battle. I was going to prove to that psychopath that she wasn't as good as she thought she was.

As I watched Solanum, I saw that she was pulling a sword out of the air. She had literally reached her hand up into the empty air and gripped something that I could not see. However, the moment that she started to lower her hand back to her side, there was a gleaming silver and black sword in her hand.

"Let's see how you fair against this." She was smirking like she thought she was better than me and I was supposed to be afraid of her weapon. 

I decided to take inspiration from my husband at that moment. I remembered Reece's sword that he fought with on the battlefield. It was made of pure fire and virtually indestructible. That was something that I needed right now. I needed a weapon like that.

Fire was Reece's thing though, not mine. I needed something that was more my style. I could, and have, used fire magic even though it wasn't my primary element. No, my primary element had more to do with water and ice. I was descended from an Undine after all.

That was it. Ice. I could use my magic to conjure myself a sword made of pure ice. Fire and ice were mine and Reece's elements. We were polar opposites but perfect mates. That was why his wolf took on fire and mine became the ice. That was why I needed an ice sword.

I only had to think about it for a moment before I could clearly visualize the sword in my hand. It was heavy, but not too heavy. It was perfectly balanced and made of pure ice.

As I thought about it the sword actually appeared out of nowhere in my hand. It was literally growing from a single ice shard that had appeared in my palm. The hilt and blade came first, shining and glinting like it was made of a bluish tinted glass but it wasn't anything as fragile as glass. It was also extremely sharp and lethal looking.

After the hilt and blade had been finalized in my hand, large shards of ice started to grow around it. Large, jagged, and uneven shards of ice started to form all over the sword and encompass the entire blade. The shards had tiny icicles hanging from them and they looked like they would be fragile and easily broken, but I knew that they were going to be just as strong as the rest of the sword.

Around the hilt of the sword the ice formed a semi circular cover that would protect my hand as I fought against my foe. That protective part of the hilt that covered the grip from the tang to the pommel made me think of a basket hilted sword [1] that I have seen when looking at antique swords in the past.

The sword that was now in my hands didn't look perfect since it had the ice covering it at uneven and imperfect sections, but it was still the most beautiful work of sword crafting I had ever seen. All the imperfections in it made it that much more special. I loved it.

"What is that?" Solanum looked angry when she saw what I was holding.

"I can hardly fight you without a weapon of my own now, can I, Granny?" I smirked at her and nearly laughed at the anger that my words caused in her.

"Well, that paltry little icicle will be nothing when compared to my sword made of steel and darkness."

"We will see about that, Granny."

[1] The basket-hilted sword is a sword type of the early modern era characterized by a basket-shaped guard that protects the hand. The basket hilt is a development of the quillons added to swords' cross guards in the Late Middle Ages.. In modern times, this variety of sword is also sometimes referred to as the broadsword.

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