Air

Note: all characters are over 18, as set out in the story.

*****

Master of Elements: Chapter 2 - Air

"What we have been, or now are, we shall not be tomorrow" ― Ovid, Metamorphoses

I was a little surprised that Brigit's parents let her go off with a complete stranger quite so easily. For one thing, although we were both adults, she was 19 and I was 28, a considerable gap in age and experience. The way Brigit explained it to me was that John and Brenda McCarthy had learnt long ago that there was little point in arguing with their daughter when she fully set her mind on something. She thought that I would have got more argument from her older brother Michael who had always been protective of his little sister but he lived and worked in Cork these days. I was just hoping her family eventually got her back in one piece.

Brigit also said that although she was sure her father was ignorant of the fact, she believed her mother knew we had spent the night together. Brenda had said little things which seemed to indicate it. Not that she seemed to explicitly disapprove, merely advising her daughter to be careful. Brigit guessed her mother thought that she was infatuated with me and that it would either deepen into something more meaningful or, more likely, Brigit would come to her senses and return home wiser for the experience. Whatever was the case, I was just grateful they had let her come with me without making too much fuss. I had enough problems without that.

I took Brigit to Dublin and we based ourselves there for about a month. In that time I got to know her a lot better and found, as so often, that first impressions can be somewhat misleading - not about her physical beauty and sexiness which I continued to enjoy to the full nor about the fact that she was a wonderful girl - but rather my belief that she was a sweet and demure young lady. What I discovered was that she possessed some of the characteristics traditionally associated with redheads, namely a fiery temper and an inability to suffer fools gladly but also a passionate zest for life. In addition she had a strong stubborn streak, hence her parents acceptance that she would leave with me.

Fortunately for me, so far her temper had been reserved for others who got in her way, especially with any sort of unnecessary bureaucracy. I was coming to realise that while my job was to try to protect her from greater menaces I had no need to worry about the minor inconveniences of life; she was more than capable of dealing with those.

So much so that, in a way, I felt I had rescued Brigit from the farm. She told me that the plan was for her to go to agricultural college to study land management. As she explained, farming families had an expectation their children would go into farming. Now, I certainly don't want to criticise that lifestyle - we all need to eat - but Brigit had a bright and enquiring mind and the potential to do almost anything with her life. As the man in the pub had said, she seemed ill-suited to being tucked away in a rural backwater when she would grace any setting.

I was keen to expand her horizons and I'll admit some of that was in the bedroom. We were in that first flush of excitement at a new sexual relationship where you can hardly keep your hands off each other, but it was more than that; our joint destinies gave us a deeper emotional connection. Whatever the reason, we made love most days, Brigit ever eager to try new things.

We also discovered that whatever mystic force was intent on stopping Brigit becoming pregnant for the duration of the crisis had done so in the simplest way possible; she had stopped ovulating and that in turn meant no periods. Once I had reassured her that all would return to normal in the long run, Brigit was overjoyed. What woman born wouldn't mind skipping period pains and the general discomfort that goes with it for a while.

Much more complex, since I had no real idea what I was doing, was the question of Brigit mastering her new powers. I started by concentrating on control, first getting her to extinguish fires of increasing size with a thought and then to create ones herself but prevent them getting too large before extinguishing them. For anything beyond match or candle size we practised outdoors, becoming in the process experts on finding secluded rural spots within driving distance of Dublin.

Finally, when I felt her control was good enough, I took Brigit to the coast south of Dublin. We needed to find out what she could really do. Setting off at midnight, by 3 a.m. we were stood on a beach looking out at the Irish Sea, although it was too dark to see much. Although there was no one around we were only going to get one shot at this before we needed to leave. What Brigit was going to do would be noticed.

Leaving her on the breach, I walked a couple of hundred metres away and then used my own limited powers to erect an air barrier moistened with additional water from the sea as a protection and waited. Brigit soon became visible in the dark, firstly by sort of glowing and then she burst into flame. I knew she was safe, although it had taken her ages to master not having all her clothing immediately incinerated.

Brigit let the fire build in size and intensity until she was the centre of a glowing globe of fire. I could feel the heat even through my barrier. Then with a wave of her hand she threw the ball of fire out away from her toward the sea. It moved with incredible speed and ferocity; if it had stuck anything the target would have been immolated instantly. Perhaps Brigit had the same thought as she flicked her hand upward and the fireball rocketed skyward. Finally she thrust her hand down and her creation turned, sped downward and smashed into the sea with a sizzling sound and a cloud of steam.

"Wow," I said in awe, then dropping my defences I ran across the beach to Brigit. She had an immense smile on her face and looked incredibly excited.

"Chris... you have no idea... that was... amazing... such a high." She was babbling happily. "Oh god, what a turn on. I feel so alive, full of energy," she continued. Then turning directly to me, she added, "Master, please fuck me at once, here, now, on this beach."

The idea had some appeal but was not a practical option. "I'm sorry Brigit, but that will have been seen. We have to get out of here before half the neighbourhood turns up to find out what it was. I promise that as soon as we get back to the hotel, I will pin you to the bed and fuck your brains out if that's what you need."

"I'm holding you to that Master," she said, still grinning.

*****

Unfortunately this delightful time alone with Brigit had to be limited. My amulet was telling me that The Mistress of Air was in a direction that pointed toward northern Sweden and I could afford to wait no longer.

Brigit was keen to help. Having accepted the odd situation she found herself in, she immediately wanted to know everything about it. I started by directing her to some Wikipedia articles but quickly this was not enough for her. As soon as we got to Dublin, Brigit dragged me to an academic bookshop and emerged with comprehensive studies of Celtic, Norse and Greek mythology and another of the history of alchemy.

Now, I meant to tell her the full truth of our situation, honestly I did, but in the end I found I couldn't - not yet, not until circumstances forced me to do so, which I suspected would be some point after we tracked down the Mistress of Air if my theory was correct. Whether it was wisdom or cowardice I couldn't say. So it was that instead I found myself each evening answering Brigit's questions about matters of detail which were interesting but not totally to the point.

"It says here," she said looking up from the alchemy book, "that Fire is dry and hot and that its opposite is Water because that is wet and cold. Does that mean that when we eventually find the water person, I won't like her?"

"You're taking this much too literally," I said. "The ancients just used the ideas and explanations they believed in at the time. That doesn't make them true. Most of this stuff is just what you would imagine it to be - speculation that we now know is baloney. I mean, fire isn't an element as science would understand it anyway, it's a chemical reaction. Water is a compound of hydrogen and oxygen, air is made up of a whole bunch of gases, mainly nitrogen and oxygen, and as for earth..."

"Earth is a mixture of mineral and organic components," Brigit finished for me. "I'm a farmer's daughter you don't need to tell me that one." She paused thoughtfully. "There are five rings and you have five stones on your amulet, so if there are four of these 'elements', how come?"

"Because there was actually another, called aether; the Greeks decided that the stars were beyond the material world and so must move through something that wasn't composed of the other four elements. I think it is supposed to be extra special for that reason. It's where we get the word 'quintessence' from - quin meaning five. The fifth essence of stuff."

"Like that film 'The Fifth Element', then," said Brigit.

"A little, except that it seems I'm luckier than Bruce Willis. I get five beautiful girls not just one. And before you ask me what aether does, I haven't a clue. As you have seen I can control fire, air, water and earth a little with my amulet but I've never found any use for the diamond."

"So why are we off to Sweden then," said Brigit. "If this baddie we are supposed to be fighting manifested itself in ancient Greece, what was I doing in Ireland and this next girl in Scandinavia?"

"You've got a lot of questions today," I said, smiling to show I didn't mind.

"I've been reading, Chris. I'm mixed up in this thing whether I like it or not and I want to know all I can. Who knows what might be important?"

"Ok, my darling. The five mistresses don't just represent the five Greek elements - fire, air, water, earth and aether. They also represent the four directional compass points and a centre. So you are both fire and west. Air is north, water is east and earth, south, while aether is the central point. In turn, those symbolic directions translate to physical locations based on what was known of the world at the time. Ireland - Hibernia - was as far west as anyone knew of and Scandinavia was 'Hyperborea' that is, beyond the north wind. The Greeks knew about China and also Africa at least as far south as Nubia, which is Sudan, so I guess that takes care of east and south, and of course Greece itself would be the centre of the world."

"So after we find the air lady, it's off to China, Africa and Greece?" asked Brigit. "That sounds cool. I've always wanted to see the world."

I looked at her happy expression and was overwhelmed with fear and regret. The odds were that none of us would live through this. "Maybe," I said grimly, "but don't forget there's danger here and I think that will begin when we find the Mistress of Air. It seems to me that while you are separated our enemy can't see you, but I fear that when two of you are together the concentration of power will attract attention."

Brigit said nothing, although her happy mood of a moment ago dissipated under my gloom. However, there was a spark of fire in the girl that could not be suppressed and she now tapped her book on Norse mythology and said; "I think I know what this girl we are looking for will be called, assuming you are right about the goddess thing. She'll be Freya."

"Freya? Isn't she more of a fertility goddess and also a war one?" I said.

"Yes, but none of the Norse goddesses really fit and she has connections with the air including a magical feathered cloak and a chariot that can fly; also, she's noted for her fair hair and you said this girl would be blonde."

"Well, it's a nice theory," I mused, "but I'm not sure it helps us that much. Freya's not that uncommon a name."

Then Brigit giggled. "Freya comes over in the myths as a bit of a slut. To get this fantastic necklace thing which three dwarf smiths made she agreed to sleep with each of them in turn - one night apiece. And when Loki goes nuts and picks arguments with the other gods he accuses Freya of sleeping with every god and elf in Asgard. I wonder if our girl will be the same." I just shook my head, although obviously I had no real idea. "So, are we actually goddesses?" Brigit went on. "I mean, am I a reincarnation of the deity Brigit? Or do I have her spirit inside me or something?"

"Of course not," I said with a smile. "Sorry to disappoint, but you are Brigit McCarthy, daughter of John and Brenda McCarthy and just as human as the rest of us. You're taking this too literally again. The names are just symbolic."

"Hmm," she said, "and how many normal people can do this?" She held her right hand up and it was suddenly engulfed in flame before just as quickly the fire vanished again. Her hand was unmarked.

"Well, ok, not completely normal. Actually, I think you're very special and not just because you can do things like that."

She smiled at my compliment but was not distracted from her train of thought. "Alright then, if my name is just symbolic why don't you have one too? I mean, 'Christopher Ward', it's very ordinary for an Englishman."

"Nope, wrong again," I teased her. "My surname is Ward - to 'ward' means to protect and that's half my role - to aid and protect you girls. The other half is to travel the world finding you all in the first place. Christopher was the patron saint of travellers. So you see my destiny was in my name too."

"Ah, but that's not right," said Brigit with a certain satisfaction at getting one over on me. "I told you I'm a good Catholic girl and I know that the Church decided some time ago to strike Christopher off the list of saints. They said he never existed."

I grinned at her, "I assume that would be the same church that also said the Brigit and Freya didn't exist either?"

"Ah, I see what you mean," said Brigit.

"This is not about what's real or not but about the things those who set the rules of this bizarre business believed to be real." I sighed, "Which just makes it harder to understand".

*****

Finding the Mistress of Air proved easier that I had expected. Brigit and I flew from Dublin to Stockholm, hired a car and, led by the amulet, headed north just as I had expected we would. However, when I passed through a town named Skellefteå about 770km north of the Swedish capital I suddenly found that the amulet was telling me I had gone too far; my target now lay to the south. Clearly the woman I sought lived in Skellefteå. This was a problem. The town had a population in excess of 70,000 and I only had my vague description - young, pretty, blonde, blue-eyed - to go on and there were a lot of blonde, blue-eyed people here.

It was Brigit who came to my rescue. Now we were close she could sense the presence of her elemental sister as well. That meant with two points of reference we could more easily pin her location down. I would stand in the street and point to where I sensed her to be and Brigit would be several hundred metres away and do the same. Where our directions crossed took us nearer to the correct location. I expect the locals thought we were mad, but performing the exercise a dozen times led us to our quarry and it took no more than an hour.

The final location was an unassuming real estate office. It seemed our girl was what I would call an estate agent, although in the US it would be realtor. We entered and glanced around, but no young blondes presented themselves. There were only two people in the office, one male, the other a middle-aged woman. The latter approached us and said something in Swedish, but switched to fair English when I confessed my ignorance of her native tongue.

I was about to explain who I was seeking about a supposed 'legacy' when the need became redundant. The entrance door opened and in walked a young woman wearing a smart business suit. She was tall, probably only a few inches shorter than me, slim, beautiful and had long blonde hair and blue eyes. Both Brigit and I knew her instantly. She felt something too, stopping and giving both of us a coolly appraising look.

Once I had made it clear that I needed to speak to the newcomer about an important business matter the middle aged lady, who seemed to be her boss, became enthusiastic that I should do so, telling the young woman that as it was lunchtime she was free to take a break. Her English, although accented, was excellent and even better than that of her supervisor.

I introduced myself and Brigit and in return discovered that Brigit's guess about her being called Freya was correct. She was Freya Nordlander to be exact - yet more nominative determinism at work - and she was aged 22. Freya didn't exactly seem overjoyed to have her lunch break hijacked but permitted us to take her to a café not far from the real estate office. We sat in a secluded corner and for the next half hour I told Freya my story. To say I was disappointed by her reaction is an understatement. In fact, as time passed I found myself starting to dislike the girl more and more. Beautiful she was, but oh so cold and practical.

That she didn't believe that she was the Mistress of Air and had a part to play in dramatic super-natural events was not surprising; it had taken me weeks to come round to it. Even Brigit showing her a few of her minor fire tricks - all we could get away with in a public place - made no difference. Freya merely looked puzzled but said nothing.

I got more annoyed when we got to the rings. I showed them to her and pointed out the blue sapphire as being hers. She immediately took it and put it on her right hand, accepting it as her own. However, I knew she did not believe it conveyed any mystic powers. Therefore what she had done - from her point of view - was take a gem worth tens of thousands of pounds and just accept it as a gift without question. She didn't even say thank you! Although I wanted her to take the ring I couldn't help but feel angry.

However, she saved the worst until last. Since she was wearing the ring I started my warning that it might affect her, including that she might find herself attracted to both Brigit and me. Freya interrupted me before I could finish.

"I already am attracted to both of you; that was why I agreed to talk. I am bisexual and polyamorous. I find sex highly pleasurable. If I am attracted to a person I have sex with them, so perhaps I may do this with both of you; I have had many much partners. However, please understand this is for physical pleasure only and we should all move on thereafter. Do not talk of love. I have no time for such emotions, which only cloud clear thinking."

All this was said in a matter-of-fact way, devoid of emotion, which I found chilling. It seemed that if Brigit had somehow felt she should preserve her virginity for me, Freya certainly hadn't bothered. I wondered how many lovers she had had; she had made it sound like a lot. For a moment I recalled Brigit's suggestion that the goddess she was named for had been a slut, but then I realised that was an unworthy thought. This Freya owed me nothing and was perfectly entitled to sleep with anyone she wanted to.

Still, I wasn't sure that I wanted that to include me. Freya seemed to represent air and the north only too well, because she seemed a true ice maiden, beautiful on the outside but emotionally frozen within.

Then I glanced at Brigit and found a very different reaction. The redhead was devouring Freya with her eyes, her look a mixture of fascination and excitement with just a hint of lust. I realised I needed to talk to the Irish girl, so I thanked Freya for her attention and let her go back to work.

*****

Afterward I discussed this first encounter with Brigit. I had found Freya's chilly practicality not at all to my taste. I had to persuade her to come with us and to be honest I wasn't looking forward to it. Her icy beauty was no substitute for the sort of warmth, openness and passion I had found in Brigit that had made me like her from the beginning. I said so and found that my flame-haired paramour entirely disagreed with me.