wip

Chapter VI: The Prophecy – Part III

Lorian read the words with a calm voice, which took a tone similar to the rippling stream in the winter grove. Tiyan wasnot prepared for it to carry him into the heart of the prophecy, which glimmered with obscure images before his eyes. He saw the fox and the raven… and terrifying form of the monstrous cat… who looked just into his soul, looked through him and was seeing all his fears and dreams.

the raven spreads his wings over a wounded fox
and gives him his inner eye, to heal him
the eye bursts in the body of the fox
and tears his heart apart

the night travels with the fox and the raven
where darkness entwines with light
where the old Cat relishes on blood
drinking from the well of souls

raven floats in the air
and the fox needs to stay on the ground
the green wind rages above
and the paws leave footprints in the snow

when the raven falls with his wings cut
the fox silently takes him into his teeth
and offers him his breath
to heal his wounds

Tiyan got lost in the words, which made him see mirages of things that can happen but – not necessarily. The fox with torn heart, the raven with cut wings… and their unwilling union, when they had to bring the terror on its knees…

that will happen when the great war
makes both lands suffer
and the raven leaves his nest
and the powers of the ancients grow impatient

the key to the raven’s heart
lays in the sacrifice
the fox will return to his forest
hidden safely in the mossy green
and the raven will rebuild his eye
and rebuild his wings
and the frozen garden will swallow his guilt
whispering alluring spells straight into his heart

the fox found on the battleground
ready to die, promised to fate
and the raven, lost in the past
so powerful, yet unable to fly

Tiyan blinked, when the tale was cut. It seemed unreal now, but it was engraved in its heart forever.

“And that, my unwilling Fox, is the lock and you are the key” said Lorian looking at Tiyan, his black pupils not reflecting the light anymore, looking like pure void. Tiyan could swear that the shadows around him seemed to dissipate, like scared of some unknown emotion that built in the fae prince.

“This prophecy could mean anything” Tiyan still was looking deeply at the cartouche. The words danced after Lorian touched them. “You could capture anyone and force him to be the Fox. You could save anyone on the battlefield. What does it has to be me? I never asked for being a–” a mockin smirk. “… a chosen one.”

This time he really was curious. Fae laws and magic were alien to him, at least to a certain degree. And he never planned to become a sacrificial lamb, even if that didn’t mean he would die.

Lorian’s shadows still looked like they were pushed away from his body. Like he was… impatient, much less collected and something was slowly removing his mask of eternal patience and stoic irony. He heard the music too. It was slow, dark and heavy, like a graveyard note buried under a very heavy stone.

Lorian came closer to him, maybe not as close as Leira… but he suddenly felt like fey’s shadows slowly enveloping his protective bubble made by the girl not long ago. Tiyan backed off. The shadows didn’t insist, they stayed around Lorian.

Lorian pierced him with darkened gaze. He had to reveal that. Better now, than later, better from his mouth, than Lerrel’s. Even if that possibly would make this silly boy much less cooperative and much more confused. And his own patience was already on its lowest. He felt as it stretches, ready to break. He told himself many times that patience is the key. But with every word coming from Tiyan, the sand was pouring in its hourglass and only few drops were left.

“Because you were born with my mark on your shoulder, and that, by default, makes you my property. Filled with magic from the very beginning, unusually powerful for a human.”

Tiyan’s mouth opened. Like fish. He didn’t catch up to the latter words, but hung on the first ones. No, that couldn’t be true. Property! He was claiming he owns him!

His sense of pride snapped, his nerves lost it. He forgot that, even if Lorian is treating him well, he is still a Kilyan. Dangerous, dark and prone to violence. He forgot he was in the palace of the enemy, which he was reminding himself for the whole day.

He blurted.

“I don’t know what is going on in your head, but one thing is sure, this is madness. You are so sure I will help you, because I am a human, because you think you have power over me. You say, you will not sacrifice my life. Why should I even believe you?”

He didn’t catch how Lorian’s expression changes, like all pent-up desire to deal with him in much less appeasable manner was coming on the surface.

“Yes, I am a guest, a cherished guest… you want to use me and without me, you will not be able to stop your Devourer” Tiyan continued. “But that ends here. I am not your toy and not definitely not your property. You can chose another lamb to fill with magic.”

He would turn and leave, if he knew how to leave this place, if he, deep under his skin, didn’t know they won’t let him. But he really had enough, of mysteries, untold secrets and Lorian’s infuriating sense of superiority. The times of war were over and he was not the small child anymore.

He felt that more than he saw. Something dragged him closer to the cartouche, something dark, which easily sunk under Leira’s spell and now seemed to penetrate his skin with icy bites. The darkness that was dancing around Lorian gathered again, and flew towards Tiyan, immobilizing his limbs and lifting him up.

And when the young hunter gazed in panic at Lorian, he just trashed and screamed, because it was not the usual, ironic, collected prince anymore.

Lorian was grinning at him, enveloped by shadows, which had teeth now, teeth, talons and thorned tails. His smile was darker than everything in this chamber and was sending shivers down the boy’s spine. His hands, usually well kept and delicate, now became black and talons rose from his nails.

The fae prince came closer, and poked Tiyan with his sharp claw, just in his chest; darkness spread over it and sunk into the hunter’s skin. Tiyan trashed again.

“They say that even the most patient beast has its limits” he purred into Tiyan’s face. “I allowed you to continue, as I was sure that if you will go by your own will, it will be… easier. For both of us. But your words are not amusing me anymore.”

Tiyan wanted to speak, something, anything, but was too panicked to dare.

“If… and I say, if… you allow me in your graciousness to explain your own situation and your place in this prophecy… then maybe, we can return to our conversation. Cultural, nice and easy conversation. If though,” Lorian grinned again. “You will keep insulting me, then, you will end up enchanted, dancing through the empty halls until I allow you to come to your senses.”

Tiyan wanted to act bold again, but the look in Lorian’s dark eyes warned him that it would be the last thing he would ever do. Of course the fae would not kill him, he needed him. But he would toy with him forever and that was more scary than death.

“Good” Lorian was seething with a dark aura, which worked on Tiyan harder than anything his brother could try on him. “Now. If you don’t comply with the easy way, we can try the hard one. But I believe that you don’t want that either.”

“No” uttered Tiyan, feeling as the shadows ease on him, and spit him on the floor. He didn’t have to look at Lorian to feel and hear as he approached and crouched next to him.

“Never. Ever. Try my patience again, winter child. You are possibly well aware where you are. But you took my good will for weakness. And certainly wanted to check how far you can go, without annoying me.”

Tiyan looked at him with renewed hatred.

“You still need me, you just said so.”

“Oh yes. Definitely” the fae prince’s black eyes drilled in his soul, stealing the light from it, with his shadowed ghosts creeping around him. “But everything has its time and everything has its purpose. Perhaps your purpose is to still learn. And mine – to teach you.”

Lorian slowly stood up. His composure again impeccable, his skin pale and smooth as ice.

And he smiled, with a smile of vast moonlit plains and icy passages reaching deep into the marrow of the earth.

“Now, first lesson. You are not acting before I won’t say so. And listen carefully, because it’s as important to me… as to you. And perhaps to all that you love and care for.”

“I don’t need to listen to you. You will make me suffer either way.”

“You do, I am afraid. This is not a game. You need me as much as I need you. So…” his eyes gleamed with galactic white, stars and moons. “… how much you love your family, Tiyan Markon?”

Forest is where I belong. My gods live there.

3 Comments

  • JuliTelperion

    I read this a few days ago. πŸ™‚ I can see that this was the moment when the idea for the dark version came up. πŸ˜€
    Except for the scene with the bad guys, it was the first time I saw Lorian in a dark moment, like threatening someone who isn’t bad, but Tyan “poked the bear” and pushed his luck. πŸ˜€ It seemed like he was asking for it.

    • Lorian

      Lorian definitely is more patient than other fey, more collected, knowing he has very little time to remove the threat for his people. Tiyan pranced, so he put him down :>
      There will be more of it, though, the darker shades of Lorian.
      Can’t wait to write it πŸ˜€

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *