The first few streets James passed looked very similar to the roads he’d seen every day on his evening walks. But as he reached 3rd Street, everything came alive with a reality that was colored with the blurry sepia tones that movies used to show old flashbacks. Bright colored creatures that glowed with a warm amber light were drawn to him as he passed, each bowing deeply to him.

  The shadows of the alleys and the dark windows of empty homes were covered in darker types of beings as he passed them. Some hissed, and others lashed out, while others had fled before him. His military training drove him forward, making James seek a place of refuge amidst the chaos. As he rounded the corner to his street, James was forced to a stop by the ethereal light that blasted him in the face.

  Staggering slightly under the power of the glow, he struggled to get his eyes open. His street was clear of shadows and the beings that hid in them, driven away by the light streaming from a tree that rivaled the skyscrapers that he’d seen on a tour of duty in Dubai. The tree hung twenty feet in the air, held up by thousands of shimmering golden roots that were as thick as trees but seemed to be made of pure light.

  His townhouse and Vic’s each had a root that consumed most of the house that it dropped down into. Other homes of Vic’s friends had roots in them as well, bathing them in a heavenly aura. With as much courage as he could muster, he walked forward, angling toward his home.

  The life of the world around him seemed to intertwine with the plants that he’d seen every day, tying up into the colossal tree. Strange shimmering beings wove through the fairly busy street, never touching his neighbors as they left for work or went about their lives. James moved carefully, avoiding the beings of light that bowed or waved as he moved through the crowd to his home.

  He walked the half block to his front door, trying not to do anything that would draw attention. The baby blue door in the white alcove sent a wave of relief as he stepped into it. With the door closed behind him, he slumped down against the door and let the bundle of fabric and weapons fall to clatter against the painted tile floor.

  Breath came in tight gasps as the panic built inside him. Tension built in his muscles, pulling into himself. For several minutes, he lost control of his emotions and let everything out. The loss of his friend only compounded the panic and confusion that had a grip on his soul after the last few hours.

  A warm feeling crept over him as a golden light emerged from the doorway to the kitchen like a high powered spotlight was moving forward to slowly consume the dim light of the living room. It crept towards him where he’d sat as waves of calm built inside him. As it grew it helped him relax like a strong sedative as the sound of footsteps and the clatter of metal began to grow.

  A warrior clad in ancient armor that glowed with the same ethereal light as the beings in the streets emerged from the doorway, his weapons all sheathed as he stepped towards him. In one hand he carried a small pot that Vic had given him, the small ring of mushrooms still sparking with golden energy. Despite the weight of bronze armor and weapons, he crossed the fifteen feet with ease before stopping in front of him.

  The being’s right hand rested on James’ shoulder, and a wave of peace filled him, forcing out the panic that held him prisoner. He looked up at the man clad in shimmering silver scales of armor and a golden cloak with a beard and hair that seemed to be made of light itself. The being knelt beside James and spoke in a deep voice that seemed to resonate in the tight foyer.

  “Peace warrior. I’m Lugh, the Eternal Commander of Na Caomhnoiri Eiri Greine. You might have heard of us by the name Sunrise Preservers. I’m here to invite you to join our order after we lost one of our most senior members to the subterfuge of the darkness early this week.”

  The god’s last words finally broke through James’ chaotic thoughts and brought him back to the moment. Despite the questions that were starting to swirl in his mind, the first question James managed to get out of his mouth wasn’t anything helpful.

  “Wait, you’re Lugh? As in the Irish god?”

  The smile that met his question seemed to fill the room with light as it brightened the god’s too handsome face. Lugh pulled James to his feet as he answered not only the spoken question, but the ones that were still stuck inside him.

  “Yes, that’s one of the ways I’m known, but that doesn’t matter right now. What matters is that your friend Vic was killed by dark beings like the ones that attacked you before I could get to you. He’d planned to begin to introduce you to the fae realm that overlaps with your world slowly. That went out the window when he was assassinated by our eternal enemy and killed before any of us realized that anything was wrong.”

  Rage took over the panic that had been building inside James as he glanced down at one of the daggers that had slipped free of the cloak to create a shadowy spot in the center of the small room despite the light. Lugh studied James before reaching down to pick up the weapon.

  He closed his eyes and squeezed the knife, letting light pulse through the exposed muscles of his arm. For a moment it looked like nothing would happen, but then without warning, light erupted from the weapon. The darkness that surrounded it was burned away in seconds, and the room returned to pure light.

  Lugh repeated the process with the other dagger that had been hidden in the cloak that they’d been rolled in beside the sword. As the second blade was replaced, he put the two weapons back on top of the cloak and motioned for James to look at them as he spoke. The two daggers that had been cold steel blades with no ornamentation or even a true handle had transformed into weapons gilded in emerald and gold, while each bronze blade seemed to glow as if they were made of light.

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  “These have been purified so that you can carry them without corruption. You should be armed at all times so that you don’t have the same issue that Vic did. He’d gotten comfortable in this community after his victories, but I fear that caused his death.”

  Pausing in his purification of the blades, Lugh studied James for several moments, searching his soul for something unknown. When he finally continued, his voice had taken on an icy tone.

  “For nearly the required two hundred and fifty years, I’ve moved my people into position for me to get a seat on the American Pantheon, but the powers of darkness moved first. Now I need you to take up Vic’s fallen banner and help me push the darkness further from this land. We only have until 2076 when the pantheon and power structure are locked in place again. Will you help me bring this country back to the light?”

  Lugh handed the smaller blades over as James nodded without any real thought. For a few moments, James rolled the two blades over in his hand as he took a few deep breaths to stabilize his racing mind. James slid the daggers into the small pockets in his uniform jacket and turned back to the godlike being standing in his foyer.

  “Please forgive my ignorance. But if you’re an Irish god, why do you care about what happens here? Shouldn’t you be in Ireland or Europe somewhere?”

  A smile crossed Lugh’s face as he moved into the dining room and sat down in one of the heavy wooden chairs. He placed his hand on the thick sealed book that had been left there after the visit with the lawyer. As James took a seat opposite him, Lugh answered his question.

  “Many of my fellow gods are still back in Europe, protecting that land. But when many of our people came here, I was sent to help protect them. For several hundred years now, I’ve worked with the representatives of every other pantheon to maintain a balance with the forces of darkness and keep them back from consuming the Americas. The order of warriors that I’ve built is filled with many different gods and people whose ancestors came from every other part of the earth that all strive to formalize this nation as a bastion of the light when it reaches its two hundred and fiftieth year.”

  Despite the insanity of the entire situation, James nodded at the mostly logical reason for an ancient Irish god to be sitting at his dining room table. Nerves broke through the calm, activating the dry sarcasm that the Marine Corp was famous for.

  “Gods and demons are great for a fantasy novel, but I’m a grunt. My job right now is to keep the oldest ship in the Navy safe. What does this have to do with me, besides it being what killed my friend?”

  Lugh laughed despite the serious look on James’ face. He spoke through the soft chuckle as he set the sword down and picked up the sealed book that the lawyer had left that morning.

  “A soldier’s cold humor at terrible times alway feels like home. The plan was to spend the next year slowly easing you into this, so I know that this probably won’t answer most of your questions. One of the big things we need from you is to help secure this city from the threats that the average people can’t see. This book here has information on almost any threat that you’ll face, but if you’d like we can start with an easy one so that I can help you get started.”

  Reality struck like a freight train when it finally managed to push through the haze of confusion and left James shocked at what was going on. A mission was something that he could understand, so he reached out and took up the sword before looking back at Lugh.

  “I may not understand everything that’s going on, but a threat is something that I can understand. I’ll follow your lead to get rid of the things that killed Vic. Killing things is something I can do well. The only issue is how I’m going to be able to walk around with an ancient sword on my hip.”

  Lugh smiled warmly and lifted James’ uniform saber that he’d left on the table when he went to the bank. The god placed it beside the short sword and wrapped his hands around the hilts of both, letting light flow from the magical weapon through his body to the dress sword and back to it. Without warning, the light that pulsed up and down his arm encased the magical blade and flared to white out the room.

  Blinking back tears from the searing light, James tried to focus on the two blades before him. Instead of the bulky short sword, an ornate saber that matched the size and shape of the dress saber sat before them. Lugh repositioned his grip so that James could take the blade from him.

  The blade felt more nimble and lighter than his dress saber ever had, despite the gold fixtures and green gemstones that were embedded in the guard and pommel. James drew the blade from its barely ornamented sheath to study the wavy patterned steel of the blade. As he tested and admired the new form of the sword, Lugh explained the plan.

  “This form is identical to the one that Vic carried with him for years. Claiomh Solais has been known by this form and passed down from one marine to another for over a century now. We’ll go to your company’s armory to register the sword as an inherited item from Vic and then you’ll be authorized and expected to carry it everywhere as an honor to the three Medal of Honor recipients that carried her into battle.”

  James froze and looked back at the divine being with the blade still in his hand. His voice shook for the first time since this conversation had begun as he tried to wrap his mind around the last sentence of the statement.

  “Wait, three Medal of Honor recipients? I knew that Vic had earned one, but he never told me anything about knowing any other recipients.”

  Lugh gave his warmest smile before turning to motion towards the back of the house, where his car was parked.

  “That would’ve been part of easing you in. Getting to know the sword is a critical role for its next wielder, and Vic had held onto it for far longer than Dan Daly or Audie Murphy before him. Before Dan, it held a different form and was carried by members of the United States Army after a short stint in the Navy. All told, this blade has helped earn over a dozen Medals of Honor for its wielders. Likely they would have earned them either way, but the sword and the medal are drawn to very similar people. We can talk about this as we head over to the base though. Shall we get started?”

  With one final breath, James sheathed the saber and grabbed his bag off of the table. Still not fully prepared for the unearthly world that waited for them, he stepped out into the new world of magic that no one else could see to begin his fight.