The Cat, the Fox and the Raven

Work in progress. Dos, will be heavily rewritten. It’s an early stage.

 

Tiyan almost crept behind Nostel to the balcony surrounded by ivy and luminescent flowers – which were already starting to open their cups, touched by the spreading dusk. The sun, shining on the sparkling snow, slowly sank beyond the horizon, piercing the distant mountains with its tired light. Mountains he had never heard of and which he would have known nothing about until now if it weren’t for the pixie who made it a point to explain every incomprehensible thing in the fae palace.

“Pretty, isn’t it,” Nostel asked, leaning on the railing. She couldn’t reach high, but she quickly remedied this by climbing onto the flower-covered marble. “The sunsets in Dal’coler are exceptionally beautiful.”

“Everything here feels…” Tiyan had no idea how to put this feeling into words. The fear slowly passed, the memory of Lorian’s predatory shadows was pushed away by the magic of this place.

“Enchanted?” Nostel narrowed her eyes. “Don’t be surprised, human boy. That’s why most people stay here, even though their first reaction is desperation and fear. Dal’coler has a spell in it that works not only on your kind.”

“On you too?”

Pixie laughed brilliantly, as if bells were ringing together. A sound both charming and disturbing in the mouth of a living creature. It was surprisingly sad laughter, touched with strange melancholy.

“Oh yes. We came here as victims of the war with humans. Fugitives from Makarsal.”

Tiyan had wanted to say something for some time now, but the last sentence made him forget what.

“What, how so, war with humans?” he narrowed his eyes, almost sure he was about to hear that the High Fae had sent less powerful magical folk to use them as shields.

“Oh, they probably don’t teach you that in Avras, my poor boy,” the pixie’s pale eyes showed glints of sadness. “But it wasn’t the High King who attacked your people first. You were the first.”

“Impossible.” Tiyan gritted his teeth. Yes, impossible. The Fae who murdered half of his family, bloodthirsty, powerful, and fearsome, would certainly not allow humans to attack other magical creatures. The Fae who used their powers to possess his race, to force their obedience and make them pay in blood for every head held too high, were aggressors, predators, feeding on the souls of humans.

Impossible.

“But still,” Nostel now looked overwhelmed by the news she carried, but not enough to spare him. “It’s the Kilyans’ fault, of course. And the people. No one is blameless when everyone is to blame. When the people, eager for the lands that the Kilyans had once taken from them, attacked Makarsal, Tinyen, the Shadow Lands… The High Fae didn’t want to help us. They were too busy with their own court intrigues, too busy with their own power. The Kilyans are a self-absorbed, dark kind. Not always cruel, but vain and able to do monstrosities alongside with great good. But when we asked for asylum, when the humans took away our homes… they gave it to us. But they demanded a price.”

Tiyan listened, as if thrown into a vortex of nightmares from the past, a past he could not remember.

“We had to give them our tribute once they took them from the humans. And our hearts too, hearts that would forever belong to them. But it wasn’t them who were killing us without remorse. They weren’t the ones who brought fire and iron to us. It was your race. Humans. ”

“But…”

“I’m sorry you’re hearing this from us. But the war wasn’t just the fault of the fair folk.”

There was silence on the balcony. A wolf howled in the distance, and Tiyan could almost hear the reproach in the beast’s voice. It was new, new and… sad. People suffered a lot from Kilyans, but how much did magical beings that humans treated with steel suffer? Because Tiyan no longer doubted that Nostel was telling the truth. There was too much sadness in her eyes when she talked about her exile.

“Was it the King…?”

“Yes,” Nostel nodded. “King Marn’sul Dal, along with his firstborn, Lerrel, took the oath from us. Giving us eternal protection and taking our tribute. And then he ordered his sons to lead the fae army to destroy human aggression. And human resistance.”

“And Lorian?” Tiyan couldn’t help but ask.

“Of course he was there too. He was one of the generals in that war. His shadows were murderous to humans.”

Tiyan closed his eyes. The more he learned, the more he wanted to sink into the ground. As Leira said, nothing was black and white. The grayness was tying the hands and covered the horizon with a sad ashen color.

Leira knew. Of course. She couldn’t live in Dal’coler for long and did not know. To the lesser fae, humans were bloody invaders. How many of them still hated them? How did Leira get here, what were her motives? How could one live with the knowledge of all of this?

Tiyan preferred not to know.

No, he preferred to know. All.

“Tell me about it,” he choked out with masochistic persistence.

“We’ll tell you,” Nostel smiled slightly. “One day. But for now… it’s not the time for it. We have a guest” she did a small, delicate curtsy. ” Lady Nymre… it’s a honor to see you.”

WORK IN PROGRESS.

 

He was furious. And felt betrayed by someone who he shouldn’t trust, but somehow began to. In comparison to his brother, Lorian seemed more reasonable and he turned out to be the same, or worse.

He cursed. Like a blow to his face, the fae didn’t  put guards before his room, no one chained him, no one seemed to even pretend they took precautions. He was so… easy to tame, that they didn’t even have to do it. It was a final insult, even if he possibly would hate it more, if they put him into a cell and started to treat like Praetor’s people did in Vennklan Valley.

He was well aware he acts like a child, but all of this, the faked patience and faked good will, was another brick to the wall he was slowly building between fae and himself, since his childhood. The wall became enormous and was made of iron, which burned the fey. He was childish, betrayed and completely aware it’s all futile.

He almost hoped that Leira would come and he would be able to tell her how good and kind her master is. He hoped for that, until he realized it’s even more childish and he is a man not a child. His actions were childish from the beginning, when he tried to test Lorian’s patience, insulting him with every sentence. When he thought that he could overpower him with irony and when he already knew his purpose, to play a person from whom their lives depended and who can dictate the rules. No. He acted like he was in a safe place, where he can prance and boast. But he wasn’t, and that he started to slowly understand. Lorian was not his childhood friend, who turned his back on him and now they can banter like peddlers.

But even knowing this, even knowing that he was stupid to trust and think he can get away with everything, he was scared… and that was making him hate even more. Because he was aware that he took everything for granted because Lorian was not killing him. Which was… not only childish. It was a death wish.

Everytime he heard footsteps before his door, he hoped it was Leira. He didn’t dare to go outside, he knew nothing protects him now, and if Lorian’s brother appeared again, he would be exposed. The tiny threads of her magic on his body dissipated and now, he was protected only by his own power.

Which was greater than other people’s.

Even magical. Even inquisitors.

That was so fantastical, that it was almost impossible. This magic was a curse… but he held a certain power. He could stop the fae prince from killing him directly. He could talk to animals. In their minds. A droplet of Lorian’s royal power entered him, and was in him since he was born. And got stronger when Lorian chose him on the battlefield.

He never considered himself a powerful, strong person. When he was younger, he was different and a lot of valley children laughed from his long limbs and slanting eyes. His skin was paler than the almost brown skin of people from Vennklan. After the war, he was treated like a traitor by many, because the fae carried him into the village, and left there, like a package with surprise.

And this surprise was his magic.

He was good at hunting. He managed to feed his family and the families, who lost their members in the war. But that was all. He was gifted with magic, but was as mundane, as it could get. This magic could make him more. But all he knew was that it destroyed his life in the Valley. But that wasn’t his fault. This was the fault of prejudice and fear and… his own perception.

He almost hoped all of this would change. That’s why he almost trusted Lorian. Because he was hoping for another life.

But Lorian was not a wish fairy. He could bring him power, but with certain thought in mind, with certain purpose. And Tiyan’s wishes were as irrelevant to him as a fly on the wall.

Fuck him. And fuck my hopes and my wishful mind.

There was also that enigmatic prophecy. His blood was to stop the god from killing all the fey. He would of course let them all die, he had no sentiments. The human realms would exhale with relief, after all, fae were the enemy. But, from Lorian’s words, he understood that humans were targets of the god as well. Now, when magic spread, all humans, even with a small dose of magic in them – and that meant almost all in Avras -would become the god’s target. And that meant that he held a much heavier burden on his arms than he thought. If he won’t agree to help, the whole Avras will literally die, with those who survive being scarce remains of humanity.

That was frightening. That was too much. But he had to think about it, because that was big, in a terrifying way. Nothing till now depended on him, he was passing through life like a butterfly without wings. And when he got them, he was too scared to fly.

Steps. Again. Closer. Leira.

When the door started to slowly open, he was sure it’s Leira. He stood up, and wanted to approach, to say something about how awful her master is, and how awful he, Tiyan, is as well, when the sight halted him in midstep.

A child. A child entered his room. With a plate filled with… yes, it had to be meat. Meat smelled of spices, strong and delicious and caused him to feel all his taste buds. She also carried wine and water and Tiyan for the first time realized how thirsty he was. He actually lost sense of time and an idea budded in him, that time here goes differently than in human realms.

“Greetings, human” the girl laughed and put the plate on the small filigree table. “We are Nostel. And you must be the newest enemy of the prince” seeing his unwise expression, the child girl laughed again. “We heard that you infuriated Prince Lerrel. That had to be a sight!” she clapped with her small hands. “If you want, you can do it again, we will watch with joy.”

Tiyan laughed. It was the shock and panicked laughter of a person who saw too much.

“Yes, laugh, human, laughter is good for the stomach” Nostel praised him. “And then eat, we will watch you as you do it. We can’t eat meat. We always wondered how it tastes.”

Tiyan felt tears appear in his eyes, from laughter. Surely. And from strange relief.

“Why can’t you eat meat..?”

“We are the pixie” Nostel looked at him and poked the plate. “We feed only on stardust and moon magic. And sometimes… on water and fruit” she blinked at him and smiled mischievously. “But very rarely.”

When Tiyan seemed to stare she poked the plate again and smiled.

“Eat. We will watch.”

An odd sensation filled Tiyan. If anyone told him so insistently to eat some food, he would be wary. But this… pixie seemed to really be indeed curious, not having any poisonous intent. She felt… honest.

Tiyan took the fork and and tearing a morsel, he put the bite into his mouth and chewed. It was really good. He never tasted such spices and he was never even aware such combinations of tastes are possible. And when he swallowed the first piece, the others followed it and soon, the plate was clear and Tiyan much happier.

“Humans are peculiar” summed it up Nostel. “You eat animals.”

“Don’t… High Fae too?” Tiyan asked, clearing the plate from the sauce.

“Only during celebration. Solstice. Aricosel. Namadan. And nights like that. You can walk from this room, you know?” She changed the subject. “You are not a prisoner. Prince Lorian said you are his guest. That never changed. Even if you did annoyed him much, from what we understood.”

These adult words in a child’s mouth seemed unreal. Even if she wasn’t a child at all. But… it looked like Lorian didn’t care he frightened him to death, and that was only showing how alien fey are. So inhuman.

“I doubt other fae think so too” he decided to omit Lorian’s place on all of this.

“Oh, but they do!” the pixie laughed. “They better do. Prince Lorian was very clear about it. If you are scared, we can accompany you. All High Fey are busy with the ball, and I doubt they will be very occupied with you. Here is plenty of humans. And only few  fae know who you really are.”

“And who I really am?”

“Prince Lorian’s special guest, of course!”

Tiyan raised a brow, but he realized, it’s his chance.

And of course, he agreed.

Everything is better than sitting here and crying over spilled milk. If he was a guest, he would squeeze as much as possible.

He drank the wine with two gulps and hoped that it isn’t enchanted, like the legends went.

“Lead then” he murmured, hoping as well that they wouldn’t bump suddenly on Lorian. That would be more than unwanted now. He still had to digest some things.

And forget how panicked he was, seeing the prince’s dark side.

“You shouldn’t. Just no.”

“I had to teach him a lesson. Otherwise, he would act like a hatred-filled child… which he actually is.

“I still think you shouldn’t. He will be much less prone to go after your word now.”

“I won’t allow him to dance to his own music. This is too important. I had him on the lost end. Now he will think twice before he opposes me.”

Nymre sighed. They just had a heated discussion about Lorian’s outburst in the Chamber of Prophecies. She didn’t like it, even if she knew he had right to it. He was sure that it was the only way, an only way without putting a leash on Tiyan’s neck and dragging him with himself. Which, Nymre dismissed from the beginning.

“He is scared, Lorian. I would be in his place. And he is so young…”

“Yes, I start to regret that it must be him” Lorian rubbed his forehead with a resigned gesture. “He is also stubborn and stupid. I sent my servant, Leira, to him, to ease his temper. But it seems it even lit it up.”

Nymre laughed, putting her taloned hand on his shoulder. Her deep, round, blue eyes gleamed with sparks, which, surrounded by the raven mask she never was taking off, looked mysterious and alluring.

“Leira, ah Leira… I think if you sent him your most beautiful servant, he possibly started to… how humans call it? Fight for her attention, but compete as well?” she laughed again. “Lorian, he probably thinks she is your lover and it breaks his heart, because he feels inferior to you.”

Lorian’s smile darkened. He indeed was aware that something like that might happen. Leira was one of his specially chosen, most honest and useful servants. She also was pretty… for human standards. He would lie, if he said that he never seduced human women in the past. But Leira was a gem, which he never even thought of alluring. She was a perfect spy, trusted and not afraid and her personality shone with confidence and great understanding of the fairy realm.

No, he was aware that Tiyan might have eyes for her. Which young boy wouldn’t? But her influence was different than he thought. Sometimes humans still managed to confuse him, even if he thought he knew them well.

“Oh, Lorian” Nymre squeezed his arm, unsure if to scold him or praise him. “Lerrel possibly would kill him on the altar. You are not like that. You can be ruthless but not without a reason, and I admire that you can hold your dark side trapped. But this boy doesn’t know that. He only sees a royal fae, who kidnapped him and forced him to serve. He sees your power and can’t not think of not having it by himself. And…”

Lorian raised his brow.

“… he is a bit… simple.”

“Stupid.”

“If you prefer so” she laughed. Lorian couldn’t stop thinking that Lerrel would have it easier. Just throwing Tiyan into the fiery pit and feeling good with himself. But then, he would achieve nothing. The path to freedom and life was much more rough and demanded much more sacrifices.

“Let me talk with him” Nymre decided and caressed Lorian’s cheek with her fingers. Delicately. Seductively. “I think he won’t be afraid of someone with a soothing light aura. He saw too much darkness today.”

“Oh, he surely won’t be afraid,” grinned Lorian with amusement. “How many taloned, winged fae has he seen in his life?”

“You think so?” she laughed. “But I have my spells. You know how they work. You know it by your own… heart.”

“My heart has nothing to do with your spells,” Lorian chuckled  darkly, his aura started to emmit the dim black light, like wanting to puncuate his words. “It’s hard as stone and dark as well in the soul of the universe.”

“At least that’s how the tale goes…”

“My brothers like to turn things, especially tongues.”

“And in some places they succeed… not in Dal’coler, though. Here all the Kilyans know, what ruler you really are, Lorian.”

Lorian’s black eyes gained additional depth. He literally drilled Nymre’s soul, and she had to admit that she likes it.

“Let me talk to him,” Nymre urged her lover softly. “If he still opposes, I will let you do what you think is best for your cause. You can even drag him by force, you can enchant him until he does everything you order him to do. But I would like to make it easier for you. Your burden already is heavy enough. And willing blood is much more precious than a forced one.”

Lorian was aware that everything they both do now, will have wide repercussions. This was not a game the fey kind played with humans. This was real, real like pain and real like death. Real like what happened ten thousands years ago, when half of the Kilyans were drained from their souls and magic and absorbed by the hungry god, who can’t be appeased. No one could fight him, no one could win his heart with their pleas. Cat’sea’van was pure force of thirst and destruction.

The Cat, their creator. Who created them to feed on them, and filled them with magic, to drink from it.

Lorian was disillusioned. He knew that in the eve of time, the fae were made from the moonlight and star glitter to appease the hunger of the god. It was harsh truth, but a truth, stone-like reality. Even if others were blind to it, even if others wanted to think they were more than that.

They grew from being a fodder though. They became brightness that was able to outshine the sun and darkness that could swallow the night.

And Lorian wanted it to stay like that.

He planned to kill the god.

And Tiyan was the key to his death.

“I think humans feed the Cat” said Lorian cautiously, like wary to clothe it in words. “When you talk with the boy, take a few of your best spies and check that for me. They use magic that borders on my own, but is much weaker. It can’t be accidental.”

“Is this an order, my prince?” Nymre smiled, but her eyes were serious.

“I like giving you orders” his mischievous gaze seemed to playfully gleam.

“Oh, I know” she chuckled and stood up. Her wings spread, wonderful, dark as the sin, soft like caress. Lorian fed on the sight like Cat’sea’van on souls. “And I melt like a candle knowing, how egaerly I follow them.

Her feathers touched him and he couldn’t not to embrace her in the waist and squeeze tightly, like they were parting for years not days.

“Do not seduce him, my raven.”

“Are you jealous, your highness?”

“Always.”

“That makes me proud and fills my heart with joy.”

They didn’t need to say anything else. Nymre half flew and half walked away and Lorian still couldn’t turn his eyes from her.