Chapter 6

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There was really no way to react to the news that Deaglan had just been given. Being told you were an inbred species created by an ancient race for war was one thing. But then being told that you were a Leprechaun, was something else entirely. Neither were what could be constituted as good news, and thus Deaglan chose to see neither as this. Instead he just stared, gaped and kind of blanked out.

"Deaglan, did you hear --"

"Yes, I heard," Deaglan said derisively. "I heard perfectly well."

"And? Your reaction doesn't inspire much confidence," Mac Germait said simply.

"Confidence?" Deaglan guffawed. "What do you – you know what a Leprechaun is, don't you? Never mind the Aos Si stuff. I’ll wrap my head around that later. You do know… you’re aware of... a Leprechaun! Really?"

Mac Germait wore the same simple expression he had been earlier. He didn’t seem surprised by Deaglan’s reaction… or maybe he was? It was hard to tell. "I think you're missing the bigger picture?"

"Am I?" His head was reeling; struggling in every imaginable capacity to comprehend the news of his apparent ancestry. He tried to piece together clues from his life, if there were any. But couldn’t. It didn’t make any sense.

The only sense it made was in how typical it was. He had somehow stumbled into a tale that could only be found in fantasy books, the stuff of legend even. There were giants, monsters, creatures from myth. There were ancient weapons and beings that were thousands of years old. It was the kind of tale where a hero would emerge to save the day, one who's name would go down in history forever. For a second there Deaglan had actually began to consider that he might be that hero... that it would be revealed that he was a Tuatha god or something of that nature. But no. He was a Leprechaun, a sidekick. He was the comic relief in his own damn story.

"Leprechaun are not the joke you are thinking,” Mac Germait said seriously. “Kaie has told me what the people in your world think of them and that could not be further from the truth.”

“No?” Deaglan said, exasperated. He took a better look at Mac Germait, and the ancient beings strong, imposing figure. It was the stuff of legend. Here was a true hero, the ones that people remembered.

Mac Germait continued in the same serious tone. “They are powerful creatures, Deaglan. Unlike all other Aos Si, they were not bred for war --”

“There’s that word again. Bred.”

Mac Germait ignored him. “They are so fast they cannot be touched. So smart they cannot be out thought. They are embedded with magic that infuses them with literal luck and this in turn means that other magic doesn't work on them --"

Deaglan barked a hollow laugh. "Luck?! OK, phew, that's great. I was worried but… well you obviously have the wrong person here. At least we got that sorted before I went running off into battle with my little top hat --”

“We do not have the wrong person,” Mac Germait assured him. He could not have looked more serious.

“You have to have,” Deaglan said. He almost pleaded it. If there was one thing that he knew about himself, it was that he wasn’t lucky. That was without a doubt. Even this here, finding out he was a Leprechaun was the embodiment of not being lucky.

Mac Germait smiled that same confident smile he always did. He was so sure of himself that Deaglan almost wanted to believe him. "Show me what's in your pocket."

“My pocket...?” Deaglan frowned. He reached for his pocket, feeling the weight of the necklace in it. He had completely forgotten that it was there. He pulled the necklace up and showed it to the Tuatha. "Happy," he smiled sarcastically. "Just an old necklace."

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