In the beginning, when the world was still young and the fabric of reality was pliable, there existed a realm beyond the understanding of mortals. This was the Veil, a place where the forces of life and death, creation and destruction, intertwined in an eternal dance.

The Morrígan: Keeper of the Veil

The Morrígan, the Great Queen, was the guardian of this Veil. She embodied the cycle of life and death, a shapeshifting deity who could take on the forms of a crow, a raven, a wolf, or a warrior queen. In her triune nature—Badb, Macha, and Nemain—she wielded the power of fate, war, and sovereignty. She was feared and revered, for she could bring both victory and doom with a whisper.

But the Morrígan was not merely a goddess of battle; she was also the protector of the balance between worlds. She ensured that the spirits of the dead passed through the Veil into the Otherworld, and that no force from beyond could tear through the delicate fabric that separated the mortal realm from the horrors that lurked in the shadows.

They: The Primordial Forces

Before time was counted, before the first breath of life was drawn, there were They—the primordial forces, neither god nor demon, but something far older and more terrifying. They were the echoes of the first chaos, beings of pure entropy that existed to unmake what had been made. Unlike the gods, who thrived on worship, or the demons who sought to corrupt, They were indifferent to the suffering or existence of mortals. Their only desire was to return the world to the void from which it had sprung.

The Morrígan knew of Their existence, and she knew that They must be kept at bay, for if They were ever to breach the Veil, all creation would be undone. To guard against this, she wove powerful wards into the fabric of the Veil, using the blood of warriors, the bones of kings, and the tears of widows to bind the barriers tight.

The Black Fingers: Agents of Corruption

But there were those who sought to undo the Morrígan’s work. In the dark corners of the world, in the forgotten places where the light of the sun could not reach, the Black Fingers emerged. These were not mere mortals, but twisted beings—abominations who had once been human but had been corrupted by the whispers of They.

The Black Fingers were the hands of They in the world, agents of corruption who sought to weaken the Veil from within. They would lure the desperate, the grieving, and the vengeful into their fold, promising power, immortality, and vengeance. But these promises were lies, for the Black Fingers had only one purpose: to serve Their will by tearing down the barriers that kept the world safe. Those who joined the Black Fingers underwent a horrific transformation. The flesh and bone of their bodies were gradually replaced with machinery—blackened gears, rusted metal, and twisted wires—turning them into living machines, devoid of humanity. Their faces became mirrors, reflecting only the darkness within and the terror of those who gazed upon them. They were soulless, driven only by the relentless hunger of They.

The Clustorium: The Nexus of Power

The Black Fingers were not content to merely weaken the Veil; they sought to control it. Deep in the heart of the land known as the Clustorium, they built a fortress—a city of iron and steam, where five towering churches stood, each linked by visible ley lines that pulsed with dark energy. These churches were the center of the Black Fingers’ power, each one dedicated to a different aspect of Their will: Decay, Madness, Despair, Betrayal, and Death.

The Morrígan watched from the shadows as the Black Fingers’ influence spread. She knew that the Clustorium was more than just a stronghold; it was a focal point, a place where the Veil was weakest, and where They could be summoned into the world if the proper rituals were performed.

The War of Shadows

And so, a war began—a war fought not with armies, but with shadows and whispers, with assassinations and betrayals. The Morrígan could not fight the Black Fingers openly, for to do so would risk tearing the Veil. Instead, she sent her chosen warriors—those who had proven themselves in battle, those who had touched death and survived—to infiltrate the Clustorium and sabotage the Black Fingers’ plans.

But the Black Fingers were cunning, and Their influence was strong. As the war dragged on, the Morrígan’s warriors began to fall, one by one, either slain in the darkness or seduced by the promises of power. The Clustorium grew stronger, the ley lines brighter, and the Veil thinner.

The Final Confrontation

In the end, it came down to the Morrígan herself. Disguised as one of the Black Fingers, her face hidden behind a mask of mirrors, she infiltrated the Clustorium. In the dead of night, beneath the pale light of a waning moon, she entered the central church—the Church of Death—where the High Priest of the Black Fingers was preparing the final ritual that would tear the Veil and allow They to enter the world.

But the Morrígan was not alone. She had allies—spirits of the dead, warriors who had fought and died in her name, who now rose from their graves to fight once more. As the ritual began, the Morrígan struck, her warriors pouring into the Clustorium like a tide of vengeance.

The battle was fierce, the air thick with the stench of blood and oil. The Black Fingers fought with a mechanical ferocity, their bodies impervious to pain, but the Morrígan’s warriors had something more—a purpose, a soul, a reason to fight. And in the end, it was this that gave them the strength to prevail.

The Morrígan confronted the High Priest at the heart of the Church of Death, and there, beneath the flickering light of the ley lines, they fought. The High Priest was powerful, his body a twisted amalgamation of flesh and metal, but the Morrígan was the embodiment of death itself. With a final, terrible cry, she tore the heart from his chest, crushing it in her hands.

The Aftermath

With the High Priest’s death, the Clustorium began to crumble. The ley lines faltered, the churches collapsed, and the Black Fingers fell, their bodies dissolving into dust as the power of They was severed. The Veil, though weakened, held firm.

But the victory came at a cost. Many of the Morrígan’s warriors had fallen, their spirits returning to the Otherworld, leaving the world of the living behind. The Morrígan herself was wounded, her strength drained by the battle, and she retreated to the shadows, to heal and to watch.

The Clustorium was no more, but the Black Fingers were not entirely vanquished. Some had escaped, fleeing into the darkest corners of the world, where they would continue to serve Their will, biding their time, waiting for the day when they could strike again.

And the Morrígan, the Great Queen, remained vigilant. She knew that the war was far from over, that as long as They existed, the world would never be truly safe. But she also knew that as long as she lived, as long as warriors were willing to fight, the Veil would hold.

For now, the world was safe. But the shadows were always watching, and the Morrígan would be ready when the time came to fight once more.

Thus, the legend of the Morrígan, They, and the Black Fingers passed into history, a tale of darkness and light, of death and rebirth, of the eternal struggle to protect the world from the horrors that lurk beyond the Veil.

There have been three stories published regarding the world depicted above, they are as follows:

The Way StationDesert MirageDerecho (Black Finger’s- The Story Continues Available on Kindle Vella) Conquistador (Soon to be released)

Map of the Age: