Chapter 11.1. Dagda’s Cauldron.

Lilith emerged from bath chamber, skin glowing with renewed vigor, as maids scurried about tending her needs. They brushed long raven hair until it shone like midnight, dressed her in fine silks and velvets fit royalty itself. But even during her bath time Lilith wore her mask, which made servants uncomfortable and scared. Finally, with one final glance mirror, Lilith turned toward door, eyes blazing with determination, beneath bone-white visage.

– Stay here, – she commanded her slaves, voice soft yet brooking no argument: – I will return shortly.

Cian waited outside in corridor, dark hair tousled from restless pacing.

– Mistress, – he said with low bow, rough tones belying underlying tension: – We go to see Dian Cecht now?

Lilith nodded silently, already striding past him, towards temple’s gleaming doors. Cian hastened after her, long strides easily matching pace, even as they navigated winding paths through Kebelek’s streets.

Soon they reached their destination. Temple of Dian Cecht stood before them, a majestic edifice that seemed to reach towards the heavens themselves. Towering marble columns supported a domed roof, its golden surface glinting like a beacon in the sunlight.

Intricately carved reliefs adorned every inch of stonework, depicting scenes from Tuatha Dé Danann mythology, and the great deeds of their gods and heroes. The air around temple shimmered with an almost palpable sense of power, as if ancient energies still pulsed within walls.

At center stood massive bronze doors, each one etched by intricate pattern that seemed to shift subtly, when caught in certain light.

As they approached temple doors. Cian stepped forward to address the guards, his voice steady, despite undercurrent tension.

– Greetings, – he said with respectful nod: – I am Cian de Danann, son of Maeve and Aodh.

The guards exchanged glances, recognizing name, even as they studied pair before them, with wary eyes. Each guard wore a crested helm adorned by intricate designs – symbols representing their clan’s heritage and allegiance to healing god. Beneath those helmets, stern faces betrayed no hint of emotion as they studied Cian and Lilith with calculating gazes. Hands rested on sword hilts, ready draw at moment’s notice, should these strangers prove threat rather than allies. Yet despite obvious wariness, there was also respect in their bearing – an understanding that even outsiders may bear news of great import. Finally, one spoke:

– We remember your parents and you, – he said gruffly: – But Dian Cecht is not easily disturbed.

– Please, – Cian pressed, blue gaze earnest, as he gestured towards Lilith standing silently behind him: – Mistress seeks audience on matter most urgent – one that may benefit us all, if heard.

The guards hesitated, then relented with barely perceptible nod.

– Very well. Wait here.

One of the guards disappeared into temple interior, leaving Lilith and Cian to wait beneath towering facade. But soon the doors swung open once more, revealing Dian Cecht himself – a man whose very presence seemed to imbue all around with sense of calm authority.

– Welcome, – he said softly, golden eyes flickering over Lilith’s masked visage, before settling on Cian’s familiar face: – I have been expecting you.

With that enigmatic statement, he beckoned them forward into temple’s sacred heart.

Dian Cecht led them through temple’s winding corridors, each step echoing softly beneath towering ceilings, adorned by intricate frescoes. Murals depicted scenes from Tuatha Dé Danann mythology, depicting gods and heroes in all their glory, as they fought ancient battles or bestowed blessings upon mortal followers.

The air here felt charged with divine energy – as if very walls themselves pulsed with ancient magic. Lilith found herself drawn towards certain paintings. She studied depictions of Dagda’s Cauldron in greater detail.

Finally, Dian Cecht ushered them into private chamber, a space filled with soft lighting and comfortable furnishings that seemed almost incongruous, after grandeur outside halls.

– Please, – he said gesturing towards plush chairs arranged around low table: – Be seated. We have much to discuss.

As Lilith took her place opposite healer, skull mask glinting in flickering candlelight, she felt sense of anticipation building within – an eagerness tempered by underlying wariness of what might come next.

Lilith leaned forward, skull mask glinting in candlelight, as she met Dian Cecht’s golden gaze with steady eyes.

– I purchased Cian de Danann, – she said firmly, voice carrying weight of authority: – In the slave markets of Romanium.

The healer raised an eyebrow at this, golden eyes flickering over Cian’s stoic face, before settling back on Lilith with newfound interest.

– And what business took you there? – Dian Cecht asked softly, one hand stroking his chin in contemplation.

– My reasons are my own, – Lilith replied cryptically: – Cian was but a shell of himself. But now I am his master. I want to trade his freedom.

– And what exactly do you want?

– I wish to use Dagda’s Cauldron.

– Interesting. What say you? – Dian Cecht asked gently: – To this offer freedom in exchange of use of Dagda’s Cauldron. For it is no small thing, I am asked to grant.

The boy looked between them both, face betraying mix of confusion and hope.

– Lilith proved herself, while fighting fomorians, – he answered carefully.

– I see. And why do you need to use the Cauldron?

– I have vials with Living water.

– I see, – Healer stroked his chin: – And what about your mission? – he asked Cian.

– I failed, – Cian lowered his eyes: – But… – he started speaking, but suddenly fell on the carpet, holding his neck. Slave collar inflicted pain, and Cian was grasping for air.

– What’s wrong? – asked Dian Cecht.

– I told him to keep my secrets. He tried to reveal one, – shrugged Lilith: – Collar punished his disobedience.

– How cruel, – sighed Dian Cecht: – Fine. I will allow you to use the Cauldron, but with one condition.

– What is it?

– Show me your face. I wish to see the face of a woman, who seeks the Cauldron’s power.

– And if you do not like what you see?

– Then I will refuse your request.

Lilith nodded and took off her mask.

– An elf? – Dian Cecht raised his eyebrow: – No wonder you hide your face. But… Very well, we have an agreement.

Lilith nodded and approached Cian. She took off his collar, and Cian massaged his neck. Dian Cecht shook his head, while observing the boy.

Lilith looked at Cian.

– You know what I have. I am going to see your former master Goibniu next. You know why. You can come with me, or stay here. Decide – before we return.

Dian Cecht glanced at Cian, but did not commented.

– Wait here! – he ordered and opened the door for Lilith. She placed back her mask and followed the Healer.

He took her to the heart of the temple, and two guards opened iron doors for them. As the heavy iron doors swung open, Lilith’s breath caught in throat at sight before her. The room was circular, with high vaulted ceiling adorned by intricate frescos, depicting scenes from Tuatha Dé Danann mythology.

At center stood Dagda’s Cauldron itself – a vessel forged from gleaming silver and gold that seemed to radiate power, even as it rested upon stone dais.

She took tentative step forward, eyes wide behind skull mask, as she surveyed artifact before her in all its glory. The Cauldron was smaller than she imagined. It seemed imbued with delicate grace that spoke volumes of divine craftsmanship.

The surface shimmered softly, catching flickering torchlight and transforming it into kaleidoscope of colors, dancing across metal like living thing.

Guards closed doors behind them then, leaving Lilith alone with Dian Cecht amidst sacred space. The healer turned towards her, golden eyes glinting mischievously, as he gestured wide circle.

– Behold, – he murmured, voice carrying weight of reverence: – Dagda’s Cauldron – treasure beyond price or value.