The air in Scotland's Cairngorms National Park hummed with a primal energy—ancient and alive. Rowan's boots crunched over frostbitten heather as she followed the bartender from The Green Man, whose name she'd learned was Lachlan. His silver hair whipped in the wind, and his leather jacket bore the same stag antler sigil as the woman in London.
"Ye're sure this is the place?" Grampa asked, adjusting his shotgun strap. The old man's scars seemed deeper in the Scottish mist, as if the land itself whispered of his past.
Lachlan nodded. "The second Well lies beneath the roots of the Yggdrasil Fragment." He pointed to a massive, gnarled tree stump rising from the moor. Its bark shimmered with bioluminescent runes, and the air around it tasted metallic—like ozone and iron.
Ethan stepped forward, his breath visible in the cold. His wrists still bore faint scales, and his eyes occasionally flickered serpentine. "I feel… something. Like the dragon's hunger, but muted."
Rowan squeezed his hand. Since the ritual, their connection had deepened—she could sense his emotions like a second heartbeat. "Stay close."
Lachlan knelt before the stump, pressing his palm to the runes. The ground trembled, and a spiral staircase materialized, descending into darkness. "The Well of Segais was never meant to be a prison," he said. "It's a healing artery for the world tree. But Cernunnos' avatar corrupted it, turning it into a weapon."
Rowan's grandmother's journal entries flashed through her mind: "When the stag and serpent dance, the daughter of Lir must become the bridge." She clutched the Blood Vessel of Lir, its blade now etched with Awen symbols.
As they descended, the air grew thick with the scent of damp earth and pine. The staircase ended in a cavern lit by glowing moss—at its center, a pool of emerald water, its surface rippling with starlight.
"The Well of Segais," Lachlan breathed. "It's connected to the Thames Well… and the world tree's roots."
Rowan approached the water. Her reflection shimmered, silver streaks in her hair glowing faintly. Guardian, the voice of Lir's avatar echoed in her mind. Heal or destroy.
Before she could respond, the cavern shook. A roar reverberated from above—feral and inhuman.
"MacLeod," Grampa growled.
They raced back up the stairs. The moor had transformed into a battlefield. MI6 agents in black armor fired at shadowy figures—hybrid beings with antlers sprouting from their skulls and claws dripping green ichor.
"Cernunnos' children," Lachlan spat. "MacLeod's been injecting soldiers with the stag's blood."
Rowan's gaze fell on a hovercraft parked nearby. MacLeod stood atop it, a vial of glowing green liquid in his hand. "You thought you could seal the Well?" he shouted. "The stag's power belongs to humanity!"
He hurled the vial into the Yggdrasil Fragment. The tree shuddered, its roots erupting from the earth. A figure emerged—tall, antlered, with skin of bark and eyes of molten amber.
"Cernunnos' avatar," Lachlan whispered. "He's using the fragment to manifest."
The avatar raised a hand, and the hybrid soldiers froze. Their bodies convulsed, antlers growing into grotesque crowns. "Join me, daughter of Lir," the avatar boomed. "Together, we'll purge the serpent's corruption and rebuild the world tree."
Rowan hesitated. The avatar's voice held a strange allure—like the call of a parent she'd never known. Heal, it seemed to say. Protect.
Ethan stepped in front of her. "Don't listen to him. It's a trap."
The avatar's gaze shifted to Ethan. "The dragon's host," it hissed. "You reek of Níðhöggr's decay."
Ethan's scales flared black. "I'm not his host. I'm—"
He doubled over, clutching his chest. A black tendril erupted from his back, whipping toward the avatar.
"Ethan!" Rowan grabbed his arm, but he threw her off, eyes glowing slit-pupiled.
The avatar laughed. "You cannot control the serpent. Let me end your suffering."
Before Rowan could react, Grampa fired his shotgun. The blast shattered the avatar's shoulder, but it regenerated instantly. "Run!" he roared, tackling a hybrid soldier.
Rowan pulled Ethan toward the Well. Lachlan followed, chanting in Gaelic. The runes on the cavern walls blazed, and the pool surged upward, forming a protective barrier.
"The Well's power can heal him," Lachlan said. "But you must merge your essence with it… permanently."
Rowan looked at Ethan, who was now fully transformed—black scales covering his body, wings sprouting from his back. "I can't lose him."
"You already have," Lachlan said grimly.
Ethan lunged, his claws inches from Rowan's throat. She raised the Blood Vessel of Lir, its light forcing him back. "Fight it, Ethan! Remember who you are!"
His scales flickered, human skin briefly reappearing. "Rowan… help me."
She pressed the dagger's tip to his chest. Light erupted, binding them together. Memories flooded her mind—Ethan's childhood, his guilt over his sister's death, the dragon's corruption eating away at his soul.
"Choose," the Well's voice intoned.
Rowan closed her eyes. Balance. Not destruction. She channeled the Awen energy into Ethan, dissolving the dragon's tendrils. His scales fell away, and he collapsed, human once more.
Aboveground, the avatar roared. MacLeod's laughter echoed. "You think you've won? The world tree will fall, and humanity will rise as gods!"
Rowan staggered to her feet. The Well's waters swirled, projecting an image of the Thames Well—still sealed, but cracking. The stag and serpent are bound, but their struggle weakens the balance.
She turned to Lachlan. "What do I do?"
"Rebuild the bridge," he said. "The Well of Segais can merge with the Thames Well, but it requires a sacrifice of equal power."
Rowan's gaze fell on the Yggdrasil Fragment. The avatar is part of the world tree.
She sprinted outside. The avatar towered over the moor, its antlers scraping the clouds. MacLeod stood beneath it, arms outstretched. "All hail the new dawn!"
Rowan raised the Blood Vessel of Lir. "No."
She plunged the dagger into the fragment. Light exploded, and the avatar screamed. Its form dissolved into green mist, merging with the Well's energy. The Yggdrasil Fragment shuddered, its roots weaving into the earth.
The hybrid soldiers collapsed, reverting to human form. MacLeod stared, horrified. "You… you destroyed it."
"No," Rowan said. "I balanced it."
The Well of Segais sealed shut, and the moor fell silent. Ethan approached, his hand brushing hers. "Thank you."
Rowan nodded, her eyes on the horizon. A figure stood there—a woman with silver hair and antler-like scars. She inclined her head before vanishing into mist.