Month: January 2024

“Mina…”

“Sweet Mina…”

“Delicious child, come with us… into wild woods…”

“… to drink from under the trees, to bathe in the starlight…”

She couldn’t sleep. The voices were haunting her, stripping her off any confidence and leaving her breathless. Her stained dress was changed the next day, but she still felt an iron stench of blood on her. A terrifying reminiscence of what happened a few nights ago.

Oosel was replaced with a tall fae with long flat hair and gleaming dust covering her face. Her wings were black as night and seemed to swallow all light. She was more scary than Oosel, even if she almost never talked to her.

She lost sense of time. Especially during nights. Nights were always the most horrible. Presence in her room, like a thick old spiderweb. She could swear that sometimes something crawls from the ceiling and looks at her, hair spread over all four walls, like tentacles. She screamed the first time she experienced it. After that, she didn’t dare, as the ghastly apparition seemed emboldened by her scream, feeding on fear.

Nights were the worst, even worse than in the beginning. The voices urged her and she would lose her mind, if not memory of Tiyan.

Tiyan who comes for her. Tiyan who will take her home.

Tiyan, who worried about her and surely thought about her. Who will pry her off this place, no matter how many fae will go against him. Because he will think something up. He will outsmart them. All.

But tonight, something was different. She felt as her feet carried her, unwillingly, in the direction of voices, who called her from behind the door to her room. Kind, pleasant voices, promising only joy and happiness. But she knew already that here, nothing is joyful and nothing is happy.

“Mina… come to us… Come and enjoy…”

“We are here to fulfill your dreams.”

“And make your nightmares perish.”

The laughter was delicate and pearly and Mina was dragged to the door, like a doll on a string. She knew she shouldn’t go, she knew it’s wrong. But she needed to follow the voices and it was making her want to hide.

But… she was going, step by step. Foor after foot.

When she opened the door, she expected that some guard would push her back and won’t allow her to leave the room. But no one was there, only an empty corridor, which gleamed with faint lights, dancing in the air.

Her bare feet didn’t make a sound, when she was forced by the strange urge. Just into the open maw of the glittering passage.

The voices laughed, she couldn’t even place from where they were coming. From the walls? Or from her head? She heard, at home, about the man from their village, who returned from the fairy realm, mad, hearing voices in his mind, telling him wrong things. When he disappeared, even Tiyan didn’t want to tell her what happened to him. But her friend, Luca, told her that he heard he opened his own stomach and pulled all out. Luca told it with strange fascination Mina didn’t share.

Mina didn’t want to pull all out.

She was scared to lose mind, something that she perceived, in her own way, like an anchor in safety. If she won’t become mad, she will be able to return home. Untouched by magic. Still being Mina. Not a dummy filled with only bad memories, bad thoughts, and wrong views on the world.

But the voices mocked her and soon, she was left in the completely dark part of the palace.

She slowly moved forth, to try to find the wall. Fear was taking over her as she couldn’t find anything with her hands. What if she falls into some hole or steps into nothingness? What if she stumbles on something sharp? The previous nights, filled with pulsing flesh and deceiving mirrors were worse… visually. But hearing madness in her own mind was somehow scarier.

What if she will be forced to pull something out, against her own will?

The first wing touched her face when she walked with her hands outstretched. She screamed in shock, almost falling. Second wing fled straight through her back, and pushed hard. And third, fourth. Soon she couldn’t even place how many of them surrounded her.

“Mina…”

“Such a fragile girl…”

“Such a frail human child…”

She screamed. Loud. And she started to run, not seeing where, just to get free from the wings, and voices. The tension that accumulated through the night, now gave her strength to run and scream.

Loud.

Fast as lighting.

Chased by laughters, laughters sharp as blades.

Until she bumped onto something – or someone – and the wings’ clapping stopped. Silebce reigned over the corridor, leaving her breathless and afraid. Lost.

But all stopped.

Like cut with a butcher knife.

The tiny fairy lights started to slowly gather, lighting up the corridor. And the figure who she stumbled onto. The fae was looking at her with an amused smile on his face.

Oh no.

Not him.

Please not him.

“I think guards who were sent to watch you didn’t care much to stay dutifully on their post” said Lorian. Mina watched with strange fascination, as fairy lights danced around him like maidens around the maypole.

“I… got lost” she uttered, still in shock. He was the last person she would want near her. But better than darkness… and voices. And wings.

At least she hoped so. At least she needed it to be truth.

He possibly was worse than them all.

At least lights returned, a blessing inside the curse.

“No. You weren’t” Lorian didn’t hurry to step towards her. Mina was slowly calming down, but she was alert. With him. With him of all. He proved he was… awful. “My court sometimes takes their dark urges too seriously. I didn’t expect them to go against my will, just to eat you.”

Mina moved restlessly. Eat her. They wanted to… eat her.

Oh, goddess…

“You wanted me to suffer” she eventually said, and took a step back, slowly, like a homeless cat who measures a hostile creature.

“I already got what I wanted from you. You ate the apple. That was the only thing that was important. Your brother will come and serve me. But the dark minds of my servants sometimes omit the best possibilities to get straight to the heart of the carnal feast.”

Again. Why does he always speak with riddles?

“I will not go with you. Anywhere. If that’s what you want.”

Lorian chuckled.

“Of course. But I am the best option here, at least now. That sounds better than be swallowed by night, don’t you think?”

Mina looked at him with distrust.

“And you would not have a choice, after all. I won’t bargain and pretend you have it” he added, sparks in his black eyes.

“You want Tiyan… why?” This was the best moment to ask. At least she felt it was. He wasn’t forcing her to do anything nor he was using dark magic against her.

“He is the key… to many things” Lorian looked at her intensely, his face lighted suddenly from bellow, looked more dangerous, more… unreal. “Human race too. Maybe is able to make you all wiser.”

“But you invaded us. Made us slaves” Mina narrowed brows. She won’t fall for this. She was not a… child?

“Believe me, there are worse things than winter and blood,” Lorian cracked a smile. “I am not here to prove my good intentions, because that would be a lie. I am here to make sure you are well guarded and not… dead.”

A shiver ran down her spine.

Not dead.

“Why” she just said.

“Because it would be… not such a wise move.”

She still measured him with attentive gaze. She had two options now. Go with him… and risk even more twisted fate… or stay and allow the fey to eat her. Literally.

The choice was obvious for her, even if she knew it was not a good one. Nothing was an option here, after all. Only darkness.

She followed him, numbed by what just happened, all the time looking at him, checking, always alert. She saw as a dark veil of shadows followed him, like a night attached to his skin. His feathered clothes looked like raven wings, gleaming against the light emitted by the small fairy creatures that were surrounding him like moths surround the flame.

“Why do they like you?” She narrowed her brows. This was stronger than her, stronger than her fear before him.

Curiosity.

Alina told her once it kills the cats.

“Because I am darker than them” was the light answer.

That, she could believe.

He was darker than everything here.

He was dark soul of this place. A black sun shining with reverted light.

She wasn’t going to believe in anything he says.

Leira was sure that something was not right. And something was not right, the night seemed to crack with tension, which she could slice with a knife. The usual thick magic of Dal’coler which she thought she was used to, seemed to haunt her, like a ghost of the past in an abandoned building.

Her steps quickly led her to her own room. Lorian offered her another very surprising gift. Safety in her own chamber. No one could pass the magic that guarded it, only him. She would call it a good will, if she suspected it in him. Probably he wanted to be the only one with full access to her.

Or…

Or it was an act of care. She sometimes – only sometimes – had a feeling that he wanted something other than her obedience, that she saw an other kind of interest in his eyes. Something… less cruel. But it was as… curious, a perfect unknown, as frightening. Why would he even care for her? After things he did in the past? After fear she felt because of him?

A sudden glimpse of him, as he pushes the shadowed tendrils, deep under her skin. As he smiles at her, when they worm their way into her veins.

Yet these small acts, however read them, were tempting her. Were promising something other than the life she led.

And she was abandoning herself even more in her needs and wants. Hating herself on how easily they were appearing. And hating him, most of all.

You are not human, you are not worthy to be a human. Not anymore. You lost yout humanity, you lost your soul. You are dead inside, as empty as fae eyes.

This emptiness gave her courage though, gave her wings, buried deep into her flesh, made of feathers and hard silver, allowing her to not fear more, to not be the victim. Emptiness, making her more like the fae. She loved it and abhorred it, because she knew it makes her stronger, but takes part of her soul away.

The air filled with dark magic. Just on the path to her room. Something wanted her, something needed her… and it was not Lorian.

Her steps carried her faster. If she reaches her room, she will be safe. What if the danger awaits her just at the door, though? What if it plays with her? In Dal’coler, she had many enemies. Many fae, who hated Lorian. Many who hated her. A court filled with black hearts and hungry teeth, craving for blood of those who couldn’t defend themselves. Perfect prey for the thirst that was filling their throats.

A sudden sound crashed against her thoughts, like a hammer.

A raven. It was sitting on the balustrade that led by the stairs from which she was quickly stepping off. A raven with strange blue eyes – unnatural and round. And it croaked. Low, but oddly melodic voice, again not fitting for a raven at all.

Curse it.

Leira slowly passed the raven, and then, another joined in, sitting on a crystal that beamed with feylight, its eyes set on her, like wanting to pull her thoughts, one by one.

Curse it, curse it.

Leira left the ravens behind, not even looking at them, and just… walked faster. She knew who could use the blue eyed ravens in this palace. And the only one who could – was a danger that Lorian would not want to stop. Maybe Nymre would use his love for her to remove Leira once and for all. Like she knew what brimmed in Leira’s heart, knew her all needs and wishes. But it was impossible. Nymre couldn’t read minds. She could only be paranoid and hate the scarce attention Lorian was offering her.

Third raven, behind her.

Fourth, almost brushing against her face. Fifth. It tangled its talons in her hair, and pulled. Leira didn’t scream – no one should even scream in Dal’coler if they really don’t have to – but started to run. Fast.

Really fast.

The flock of ravens came after her, separating her from her room, attacking her with talons and beaks, but not making any bleeding wounds.

After all, she was Lorian’s property. He would not be pleased if Nymre hurt her.

The birds, the massive amount of feathers and bodies just pushed her against the wall and she lost her breath. She was aware, through fearful mist, that the ravens stop attacking but she hit the stone so hard that she lost sense of where she was and how she landed here. She touched her forehead which took the hardest blow.

No blood.

Of course. No blood.

She slowly started to gather herself, trying to stand up, her ears sounding with dead silence. This was the first time. First time she went against Lorian’s will. She felt not safe in Dal’coler but safer than before. She was a fool. Fool. Fool.

Stupid girl, who forgot so much from the beginning days.

“I see you met my servants. They love fresh meat. I had to stop them, or they would harm you. And that would be… unforgivable.”

She gazed in the voice direction, but she already recognized it. She didn’t even need to see her beautiful, round face, her perfect white hair, her intricate dress, which glimmered like an obsidian star. But she saw her and her not less perfect smile, shaded with cruel promise.

Nymre slowly approached, Leira trying to stand on her feet, fast, to not meet her on her knees. Nymre though, couldn’t care less. Her power lifted Leira up, until she stood, or rather hanged before her, her supple finger lifting her chin, with a studied care.

“Tell me, child” her voice soft, but tainted with expectations and badly concealed worry. “How close are you to your owner?”

Leira shook her head, her golden curls falling over her face.

“I am… owned by him” she said, her voice clenching in her throat, that hard Nymre’s power was.

Nymre laughed.

“Oh, definitely, you are” her magical grasp tightened. “Did you please him? Has he taken you? Do not lie, I can feel the lie so easily.”

Leira’s mind whirled. This was… mad. Lorian has taken so many others, yet, she asks her, of all? That was so ridiculous, so sad.

“Never” Leira choked, the fear taking a tight hold on her, even if she suspected Nymre wouldn’t kill her. If only Nymre knew what was in her head. But she didn’t. She only suspected, fearing that Lorian was not faithful. Oh goddess…

“You tell me that ‘never’, my dear” Nymre’s voice, somehow, controlled. Her aura, light as cold breeze, enveloping Leira, she felt as thick gossamer sticks to her skin. One pull, and her skin will be open. Fae auras could be as cruel as their owners.

“Yes, my lady.”

“But I don’t feel the lie in you” Nymre’s voice indicating that she is sad, that her suspicions were not true. She would love to have a reason.

“I don’t lie, my lady.”

Nymre grinned. It was a cruel grin. Hungry grin of someone who spotted her prey and now, it’s only a matter of time until she feast on it. Someone who caught it and won’t release it, as it’s a good and filling prey.

“I know what you truly want. A human, a slave. But so many privileges, so much attention. And how many good fey he killed because they tried to teach you a lesson. I know he wants you. He could have you so many times, but he wants you willing. If you yield…”

Leira was released, tossed on the ground by Nymre’s retracting power.

“… if you yield… I will know” ended Nymre. She was furious, it could be so easily seen. She hated the idea that Lorian could not want her only. That he could want her willing. “You were taught so much boldness. If you yield… I will teach you humility.”

Leira saw that in her eyes, a hatred and something… deeper. Nymre, that was now obvious, hated her slowly, gradually, from the very beginning. The hate, the anger, was rising in her, like an avalanche of hard stones. And if something adds to it, a tiny gravel piece, it will burst into falling death.

Leira saw this with all clarity. Death. Even against Lorian’s will.

Nymre had to realize that Leira saw that. That she recognized it. But… she could of course harm her, but not without consequence in her private life. The question was, is she risks it.

Nymre left her, laying on the floor, the air filled with delicate scent of sea breeze. In the midst of raven feathers, surrounded by fluttering fairy lights, which suddenly started to dance around her, attracted by her fear. Attracted by her darkness that was starting to bloom in her, in reaction to the threat.

She of course had no chance against Nymre. No chance against any fae, even the lowest.

But she was not weak.

And it hurt her even more. She was not weak. But death was not reaching only for the frail ones.

“That was… delicious” he heard a purr in his ear and felt the airy scent of his raven by his side. She moved noisessly, as her feet didn’t touch the ground. “Good that you sent that slave with the girl. She will lull her to sleep with her soft presence.”

Ah, Nymre.

He watched his subjects return to enjoying the ball. Their auras again spread widely, he felt as the air filled with magic and tension. He enjoyed it, muting it never was pleasant for the fey, like shutting a vital part of them into a cage with thorned bars.

Yet he ordered them.

The human girl sensed much more than she should, she felt his enchantment, his glamour, she even started to hate him, felt his intention. That was… interesting. Human younglings usually could feel the magic more, just like wild cubs. But these they were, unshaped by life, following instincts of fear and basic needs. Fairy children were taught to be lords from a very early age. It was depending on them, if they manage to be them, or not. Human children were never purposefully exposed to anything that could harm their young minds. Held under a blanket, loved and cared for, they were unprepared and soft. And they – felt much more. They have seen much more, their inner eye surprisingly open, until the hard life won’t take its toll. Until something slit the throat of their trust with a sharp knife.

Humans were so different from the fae. So easy to break but so absorbing and… bendable. Ready to be shaped, emotions pulsing in their open minds.

“I think you drift again with your thoughts, my busy lord. Buried deep in your plans, neglecting your mate” he heard an amused voice again and smiled. So impatient. But he loved that, her hot temper, her fire. Her blazing flame, that nothing could quench through all these years.

Trust. An issue. He knew that she was worried. He knew she would never go against him. But her spells that were sinking in his darkness started to cause him to choose own spies, own ways. He has the right to have own secrets, just as she had the right to hers – that’s why he never entered her mind against her.

Perhaps one day he will need to.

But not today.

“I thought about possibilities,” he smiled at her, charmingly, disarming her. “You are aware that kindness, once sown, once taken care of and fed with water, sprouts into belief. Into trust.”

Nymre’s eyes opened more. She had eyes as big as the sun during winter noon.

Ready to swallow him like pale portals.

“You want her to trust you? I think she already had given it all to never trust you again… and why? To keep the boy you need in shackles, I assume. To bind his hands even more.”

“Her brother soon will enter Ain’asel. To drag him here is one thing. To keep him, to force him to stay and give his soul to me, willingly, beautifully, is another thing. If this girl will trust me… it will be so much easier. She will be useful in making him more… eager.  I need him eager and open like a lover.”

“You want to play with her like a toy” smiled Nymre, her features lighting up.

“An useful toy, that keeps a child occupied, until adults finish their tasks.”

“And you think that she will… allow you? I feel her, she is strong. I felt that as soon as she appeared in Dal’coler.”

Lorian’s smile became slightly predatory.

“Her mind is observant yet very receptive. And nothing makes one trust the savior than a promise of violence… a hint of darkness… a threat that overshadows his shadow. Something vile that will bind her in a net of gratittude towards the one who simply stopped it.”

Nymre seemed to gleam, her gossamer aura pulsing with badly concealed excitement. She wanted to say more, but someone interrupted.

The High Fae approached, his stride fast and cat-like. His long dark brown hair smooth like silk, and his white robe reminiscent of a summer morn.

Alnam.

His smile could be taken for granted, his aura muted like he was giving honors, but his bow almost nonexistent.

But Lorian knew what hides in this mind. He knew his hatred, his scorn, his… resentment and anger. And it was filling him, Alnam’s hate causing almost touchable pleasure.

His raven will have his heart in her fingers, sooner or later. Maybe they will bite through it together.

“My lord… I came to ask about… small worrying disturbence.”

Lorian waved at him and allowed Alnam. The fae lord made a content nod, his eyes joyful, pleased.

“Disturbence on the ball? I thought you are supposed to enjoy yourself, after all, it’s the night of dancing and music” Lorian grinned lightly, enjoying Alnam’s whispery voice, and knowledge of what he feels when he speaks.

Alnam’s eyes this time showed calculated caution.

“I am afraid that a human child entered the ball and stole too much of your attention, my highest lord… that was… amusing, I – and so many of us – of course enjoyed… but some ears heard, or at least thought they heard, that the ball was dedicated to her.”

Oh, the open minds, so easy to delve into. How delicious to bring them up.

“The false ears were already cut and executed” Lorian’s aura strengthened, his shadows creeping slightly from behind him. His smile is even more charming than before. “Those who brought you lies – as I cherish your wellbeing and right to have access to truth – will never speak again.”

Lorian would love to see Alnam’s face becoming paler, if not perfect self control the lord had. He was old enough to keep his reactions on a leash.

And Lorian put it into costs.

“Excuse me for being wrong, my lord” this time his tone was serious, sharp and hard like stone, yet his lips forming a perfect smile. “Maybe I should listen to truthful tongues only. I am sure that we don’t lack those around us.”

Nymre wanted to slap him in the face, leaving talon marks.

Lorian though, as always composed and calm. He needs to share that confidence with her. She admired that… and it annoyed her to no end.

“More tongues to be proven of being false or true” Lorian chuckled. “Sifting the grain from the tailings always is more than rewarding. So many little details, exposed before one’s eyes.”

Alnam face was a mask of perfect calm, controlled and reserved. Lorian felt his thoughts, washing over him with pure darkness, with clear night. His mind took it and absorbed, like a wave of sweet liquor.

“I will mind to never listen to those who come with too obvious lie. Your reminder was most needed, my lord. I don’t plan to make any further mistakes.”

He did know what Alnam wanted to achieve with that – he just liked it. As any fey, he enjoyed trying to win without causing a war. Pushing the dagger in a place where it won’t bleed. He saw that in his thoughts, in his fierce mind, still lit by dull anger, even now, even with so many years he lived through. He was an owner of personal army, he was assuming he can allow himself for that, that Lorian won’t risk losing his followers. Yet, didn’t know so many things, still – like the fact that Lorian’s power grew, fed by god’s blood. By god’s pain.

And that Lorian didn’t become his ruler because he was just unpredictable or cruel.

Alnam was as simple in his hatred, as complicated in his way of thinking. Part of him was still unknown… and part – an open book.

Combined, he was making a thrilling enemy. Lorian enjoyed this game more than he would admit to Nymre – who would just kill him, removing all threat. And adding a war between the High Fae to the plot. Yet… the one who thought he can desecrate his property – not only property, Leira, of all, Leira who hated him with the strength of a dying sun, beautiful, strong Leira – taking his face and pretending to be him, deserved much more sophisticated punishment, that just being killed, even in pain. He deserved much more. And he was going to give that to him, joyfully.

Putting him on his knees will be delightful. With all the importance, with all his power, with all his hatred, Alnam was best exercise to Lorian’s brain that his court would provide.

After all, they both were braiding a net of lies and truths, which was to capture the other. Yet… Alnam had small black hating dot on his iris. And that blind spot in his eye will be his doom.

One drop.

One pull.

Overwhelming.

Curse it.

Like a star opening in his body.

The fire slowly started to creep into Lorian’s veins. Licking his insides with tongues made of white flames, starting to slowly liquify him, burning holes in his flesh, which would drip with molten tendons if visible .

His face showed not indication of the beginning of the daily horror. His smile impecable, his pose aloof.

Yet… it was a reminder. Reminder he can’t lose.