• 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?”

  • wip

    Chapter VI: The Prophecy – Part II

    “Kill me??”

    The sound of his own words reigned way too loud in his ears and Tiyan almost felt as something, some vile force, tried to slip through his protective spells, almost pushing the air from his lungs. He thought that his eyes would get adjusted to the dark but nothing like that happened and not being even able to place where he is and where is Lorian, made him close to panic.

    If that was some cruel joke from the fae prince, he was not amused.

    The light gleamed in the distance. How vast this chamber even was? And when Tiyan was able to see again, when the flickering brightness freed the room from the darkness’s reign… he saw the most perfect, the most ominous and most overwhelming sight he ever witnessed in his whole life.

    Lorian stood near a large cartouche built in the wall, portruding from the stone. The prince’s shadows were frantic and manically pulled and danced and amassed before the wall which towered over him, far up, where the light wasn’t reaching. The faint gleam appeared to be kept captive by the chamber, unwilling guest in the kingdom of the night.

    He slowly approached the fey prince, looking with reluctant awe at the darkened cartouche. He almost forgot about being unenthusiastic about the palace. The previous murder attempts from Lorian’s brother were pushed into the back of Tiyan’s mind, and that alone was a sign not only he is curious and amazed, but also that he slowly started to accept the status quo. If someone told him so, though, he would probably deny, angrily. But the palace had a charm that was sinking into his skin and changing his reality.

    The cartouche was filled with cryptic writings and images the young hunter had no idea what could depict. All of them held a primal beauty, like something created in the eve of time.

    “The Lord and the Lady” said Lorian with a muted tone, like darkness around them didn’t allow any sound to spread wider. “The Tidal Water; Impatient”. The Autumn and the Great Depth”.

    Tiyan made a bitter expression.

    “Do not frown, winter child” smiled Lorian, gazing at him. His black eyes seemed to reflect the light, filled with white sparks. “These all are prophecies. Some are more enigmatic and some very simple. But one thing binds them. Some were explaining things that really happened. And some refer to those which will happen in the future – though the fey kind forgot about their meanings.”

    “I didn’t expect the mighty fae relying on some obscure guessing” Tiyan had to bite. He wouldn’t be himself, if he didn’t.

    “Because you never witnessed a real prophecy. In your world, even now, when magic touched it, you had no access to them, nor you wouldn’t be able to decipher the simplest one, even if someone was giving you an answer on a plate.”

    “Do not hold back. Offend us more” grinned Tiyan voraciously.

    “I am not offending you” Lorian grinned like a cat over a mouse in his claws,. “Humans never were exposed to high spellbinding. You would walk into it and not see how it changes the world around you. You wouldn’t even feel it. And this is the fact, not an offense.”

    Lorian touched the cartouche, delicately. The letters on the lowest prophecy started to shift and dance.

    “Your brother was right. You like to amaze mortals” Tiyan said, but even he had to admit that it was intriguing.

    “You are created to be amazed, you are made to be in awe” Lorian laughed; it again sounded like on the battlefield, a long time ago, in another life. But Tiyan was slowly getting used to it. “At least, in the beginning. Not a lot of things can move a human that lives in Dal’coler long enough.”

    Tiyan suddenly felt an urge to ask about Leira, but decided not to. He would better hear more from her, than listening lies from the monster who enslaved her.

    Lorian touched the swirling letters again and they drifted towards him, shifting and drinking from his aura, until they returned on the cartouche, forming words… which Tiyan still didn’t understand. Probably written in fey language, they were as alien to him, as Ain’Dal’s black eyes.

    “The Cat, the Fox and the Raven” said Lorian, looking at the lighted up words, a tension in his usually collected voice.

    Tiyan involuntarily shivered, like he was embraced by the cold gust of wind. He looked behind, in fear that it may be again Lorian’s brother, but they were alone. Closed in the chamber, tightly shut; the other half of it was drowning in deep darkness.

    “The forbidden prophecy” continued Lorian. “Most of the Kilyans despise humans. And the mere thought of being dependent on them, is revolting. An insult for all the fey. But I realized quickly that the pride is what could carry us into the open jaws of death. And not only death. Our souls would be torn from us, and our magic would be removed, swallowed by the beast of many faces. This means pain and oblivion. And I love my people, my kind and my subjects too much to allow them to pass away screaming, forced to fill the dreams and soul of a god.”

    Tiyan got lost pretty quickly.

    “Wait, wait… what god? What death? And what am I even supposed to do?” he felt a bad feeling worming into his mind. Prophecies by default were something he would avoid, even if he knew what they are all about.

    Lorian’s eyes gleamed with amusement, real one, like he was telling an especially vicious joke. “You are needed, because your blood will bind the Devourer in the mortal realm, stripping him from his destructive power.”

    Lorian possibly was saying something else, but Tiyan focused only on the words that just left his mouth. Blood? His pupils opened in disbelief and he suddenly felt claustrophobic, the liquid night around them closed its talons around his fast-beating heart. Blood. This one word changed the whole deal. Not only this bastard captured him and took into the nest filled with enemies, but also wanted his life to appease some another monster.

    “Let me explain everything” the calm voice of the fae prince brought him back to life and pulled him over the sea of fear. “Because you seem to believe I am going to sacrifice you. I won’t. But to understand my trail of thoughts, I need to unveil the real meaning of this prophecy.”

    Tiyan huffed in badly concealed anger.

    “Explain then, your highness” he only said, with a mocking tone, and Lorian gazed at him with an undeciphered, unnatural expression, his features changing slightly in the flickering, faint light.

    Tiyan was sure that he saw wrong. But part of it knew it was real.

  • goofs

    Orange Cat

    Tiyan: I will never agree to work for a fae. They are cold-blooded murderers, a bane of humankind. Nothing will force me to go with their ploy!

    Also, Tiyan: This bath is so scenty, I love it. The light dances on the walls, how pretty. I will uncork this bottle, how beautiful, and unusual.

    The coherence of an orange cat.

  • goofs


    What do you think about the prophecy?

    Lerrel: Only fools depend on them. I still think kritars would at least slow down the god souls.

    Rissel: Risky. Very risky. I actually don’t trust anything that is closed for ages behind shadow-guarded doors.

    Arlis: Besides, this particular prophecy is forbidden and not without a good reason.

    Lorian: While you were afraid to move with single finger, I found the Fox, gave him power and now brought him to the palace.

    Lerrel: You are a fool then.

    Lorian: He is at my service and you know what that means.

    Rissel: ?

    Lorian: More spies to look at you when you love, when you hate and when you think no one hears how you curse on our father, wishing him death.

  • goofs

    Light Fun

    What do you like most in human servants?

    Lerrel: They obey every word. It’s easy to order them, because they are stupid and weak.

    Rissel: They are so unusual. Without magic and ears, they seem almost unreal, like a gossamer so easy to tear…

    Arlis: They are amusing to tempt with glamour. A light fun, noone gets hurt.

    Lorian: Some of them are my spies and tell me everything about my unaware brothers.

    Arlis: …

    Rissel: !!!

    Lerrel: ?

    Lorian: They will be even more eager to do so, when they hear what you’ve said today.


  • wip

    Chapter VI: The Prophecy – Part I

    Tiyan expected the fae palace to be filled with enemies, looking at him with curiosity and badly hidden scorn. To his surprise, Dal’coler was a silent place, glittering with light and shadows. The court members they met were either bowing before Lorian or exchanging with him a few words. And no one cared for him, like he was another human servant. He had to admit that he preferred it that way. He didn’t like to be the center of attention, especially here. Here, too much interest could mean death.

    Lorian was leading him through vast sunlit corridors, filled with chill air and the scent of flowers. It was a fact – Dal’coler was enormous and… beautiful. In this dangerous way, that held more allure than safety. 

    The fey prince radiated with dark aura and that alone was making his meetings with the court a specific spectacle. Most of the fae had glamour resembling wintery light, which was making a fine contrast with his darker one. They never clashed though but attracted each other, in strange dance of chill day and starry night.

    Do not admire them, Tiyan scolded himself, they do that on purpose.

    But the most curious thing was, that now he could see their aura. He didn’t see it in Vennklan prison and he didn’t see it in the bathroom. Now, it was as natural for him as breathing. And to add to it, he perceived the spell Leira gave him, it gleamed over his skin and even clothes like a spiderweb made of stars. Something was changing and he didn’t think if he hates it… or likes it.


    She was walking behind them; whenever he gazed at her, she looked back and a sparks of joy were dancing in her pupils. He suspected that he amused her, with his stubbornness. And he preferred it that way too. Better to be amusing than scorned and hated.

    “Where do we go?” he wanted to know, after a few other fae met and few vast chambers passed. “I understand that to some… Room of Prophecies.”

    “Some say that curiosity killed the human child” Lorian turned to him, his face tense, which was unusual to him. Tiyan thought that he only had two expressions: enchanting and mocking.

    “Perhaps” Tiyan leveled with him. “I only want to know. Is it too much? Maybe telling me where we aim would destroy your impeccable aura of mystery?”

    Lorian grinned, with all teeth.

    “This is not my own mystery I am worried of losing. You will see, my winter child, that even fey can feel the weight of things in Dal’coler.”

    More mysteries. He really was a bastard.

    Tiyan really hated mysteries. Being called all the time a winter child as well.

    The surroundings started to slowly change. From sunlit passages and bright chambers, it went slowly, gradually to darker, more shadowed rooms and corridors. Soon, the path started to lead down, down, into the heart of Dal’coler. Tiyan’s skin crept, when the music that seemed to always be predominant in the fae palace, became darker, more atonal and ominous. The aura shifted, the darkness seemed to press on them all. Prince Lorian changed as well. To Tiyan’s shock, he saw that shadows from the corners and ceilings started to crawl up to him, like tempted with his enchantment. They slid over him and danced around him, celebrating him, bowing before their lord.

    Shadow magic.

    He knew what inquisitor used to torment him, because Lorian told him, back in the bathroom. Tiyan was not a complete fool and put two and two together. His tormentors used fey spells.

    From what Leira explained, royal magic.

    How they managed to master it even on smallest degree, was beyond him. He somehow doubted fae gave it to them, like the prince did with him.

    Lorian led them into the darkness,  which became thick and muting, and soon, which felt much more than few minutes they really spent there, they saw an intimidating sight.

    A large gate, which looked like it was made from obsidian and coal; all light that still existed in this part of the palace, was drifting towards it and turning into night. It seemed to suck everything into its maw, like a hungry sea beast swallowing small water creatures, which were falling through its gaping mouth.

    Tiyan heard a moan behind and when he turned back, he saw Leira, strangely pale, how she supported herself over the wall gobelin encrusted with golden threads. She looked in visible pain.

    Before he could react, Lorian spoke, the shadows around him intensifying.

    “You can go. I allowed you to come too close” his voice was colder than usual, not mocking anymore.

    “I wanted to make sure that my spell works and the gate won’t harm him” uttered Leira. “I will go, my prince, thank you” and bowing deep, she withdrew, her legs and hands shaking.

    “Do not worry,” a smirk again appeared on Lorian’s face, but his tone dark, dark as the gate itself. “As soon as this place won’t be able to reach her, she will feel better.”

    Tiyan gazed after Leira again, worried, but she already disappeared, a glimpse of her golden hair vanishing in distance.

    Lorian slowly approached the gate. His shadows seemed to wail without sound, Tiyan felt it in his bones, how the dark doors attracted not only them but also their master. How – whatever was on the other side – drags Lorian in. He felt that, he felt that in his own mind.

    The fae prince wanted to touch the gate frame, but then, they both heard the ragged breath. Like someone was suffocating and fought for air. Delicate steps and wind, which came from nowhere, like commanded to. The wind was cold and Tiyan shivered unwillingly. It carried undeciphered scent, something heavier than Lorian’s jasmine, which the young hunter couldn’t place. It made him want to stop breathing and hide.

    A fae, looking older than Lorian but possibly as ageless as him, was coming, his throat’s muscles tensed. Lorian didn’t even turn back.

    “I see you still trying to stop me, brother” he just said and he placed his hand on the frame. “Trying to follow my footsteps may be dangerous.”

    The door shook, like pierced by a powerful bolt of energy, and the newcomer laughed.

    “And you still can’t stop yourself from impressing the mortals.”

    “It’s not my fault, that they are impressed” grinned Lorian and looked straight into the fae’s eyes. They stood there, measuring themselves with their gazes, until Lorian’s brother passed because he had to take another wild breath in.

    “These doors will kill us all one day. Our father should lock them forever and put seals on them.”

    “Perhaps. But not before I show my Fox what burden lays on all of us.”

    Now, the new light lit in Lorian’s brother’s eyes. They slid over Tiyan’s frame and measured him, just as they did with Lorian before, he seemed to try to delve into him and dissolve him into dust. It felt like he tries to push a very powerful spell into him but is unable to. Try after try, Tiyan’s aura was opposing against his mind. After few times, he resigned but his glamour attacked Tiyan so hard that he almost fell on his knees. But he withstood. The glamour was a shock, but just as in prison cell he didn’t gave in to Lorian, now, he didn’t give up to his brother.

    “Very well!” the fae eventually exclaimed. “Your magic protects him well and gives him more strength that I ever suspected you would share. And I already wanted to show you how futile your attempts would be.”

    “You are surely aware that killing the servant of another fae is punished… harshly” Lorian seemed indifferent, turning his attention again towards the door.

    His brother took another effortful breath. The dark energy that emanated from the gates, seemed to choke him, more and more, the longer he was near it.

    “And how bad that you forgot that you don’t have your own shadows to protect you” Lorian added, sliding his fingers over the door. They slowly started to open. “It would be such a pity to lose you, because of your own recklessness… Lerrel.”

    The fae looked infuriated, more, murderous. But seeing as the gates opened, he knew how little chances he had against the shadow magic that protected the Chamber of Prophecies.

    Burning with cold anger, he didn’t add anything more and soon only the scent of roses was indicating that someone was here with them.

    “What was it?” blurted Tiyan, feeling as the protective spell woven by Leira tenses around his skin.

    “More important was what he tried to do,” Lorian said with a furrowed brow.


    “He tried to kill you.”

    The gates opened wide, sucking all light in and enveloping them with pitch-black darkness.

  • nsfw,  poetry

    Bright Nightmare

    Lorian/Nymre [ Nymre’s POV ]


    I melt onto you skin
    a candle made of pure light
    slipping into your twilight
    bathing in your dark allure

    my star pulses in your veins
    finding chasms and sliding through the gaps
    to fill you with suns and moons
    burning in you with an enchanted flame

    I swallow the night
    drowning you in forbidden gleam
    tormenting you with flickering touches
    glowing in your black ponds

    a bright nightmare
    do you feel me owning your dreams?

  • wip

    Chapter V: Slaves and Fools – Part III

    Tiyan slowly put his clothes on. After the bath, his skin became more fragile, but the robe touch was a pleasant sensation. They were made of something resembling silk, but much smoother. Tiyan realized that he ponders, what spells were intertwined in it, to feel like a gossamer and still being able to work as a robe.

    And he was aware that not only the robe. This whole place, beaming with strange calmth, had a sublime aura, something not unlike a dream. Positive feelings were forced into his mind, but he knew that Dal’coler can’t be anything more than a nest of vipers.

    If vipers could live in the snow.

    The bathroom’s cozyness was making him dizzy and it wasn’t necessarily a bad feeling. His fear and tension was washed by the water before and now kept away by this cozy, warm place. And he almost was grateful for it.

    He remembered Lorian saying that… Leira will join him soon. He wanted her to come so he could face her and explain himself, because he started to feel guilty. He indeed didn’t have the right to judge her. Perhaps when she appeared once again, he would try to brush off the bad first impression. Humans should stick together in this place. He didn’t know how many of them were kept here, but when he sees another, he won’t be trying to jump to conclusion again.

    He felt much better without layers of filth on his skin, wearing comfortable clothes worthy of royalty. He never was vain, but this was a treat which he decided to use to its limit. If they offer him rich robes, they probably won’t kill him in the next few days. His mind couldn’t stop writing scenarios though, in which Lorian kicks him to his knees and laughs from his naive hopes. He could stand against him, fight with him, even if he had no chance. But he would hate and loathe being humiliated.

    Why would Lorian do it? He didn’t know. But his memories surged from time to time, showing in a flashes of a lightning how the fae murder the people from his village. Tiyan was torn between memories filled with blood and the feeling of peace that talked to him stronger and more insinstently with each hour.

    He might not agree on anything they propose, but he can of course listen to what they have to say. Maybe he will be able to throw refusal into their faces, as a showcase of stubborn defiance.

    There was a silent knock to the door and when they opened, he felt a scent of roses and tulips, caressing his senses. Leira appeared like a gust of wind, silent but very very real. Her golden hair danced around her face a wave made of pure sunlight.

    Tiyan didn’t know how to start his explanations, because she surprised him again, cutting the thread of his thoughts. But she looked at him shrewdly, he saw an accusation in her eyes… and then her features were lighted up.

    “You don’t need to say anything. I know you regret it.”

    “You can read minds?” he raised a brow.

    “No. But your inner struggle is very visible” she laughed. Tiyan almost cursed, but stopped himself on time. Bad impression could be done twice, after all. “Prince Lorian told me he takes you to the Chamber of Prophecies. Humans can’t go there without protective spells. Most of the fae also. It’s a very dangerous place.”

    “And you…?”

    “I will put that spell on you” she smiled mischievously. “Don’t make such a frown. If I have a chance, I like putting spells on unaware men, who enter my lair.”

    “I see the fae sense of humor is contagious” he said, with a raised brow.

    “If you only knew. But no. This sense of humor is completely mine.”

    Tiyan without usual hesitation allowed her to approach him. She shook her fingers and looked at him intensely, this time completely seriously. Her nails ran over his hands, and surprise had to be well painted on his face, because she quickly explained.

    “You must know that magic the High Fae pass on to others – like you and me, or any human they consider worthy – is different from their own. High Fae can use spells without gestures and words. The royalty, like King Marn’sul Dal or prince Lorian, can enter human minds or shape darkness, by mere thinking of doing so.”

    “I know that all too well” interrupted Tiyan.

    She pinned him to the floor with her gaze and continued.

    “Magic passed on humans and magic of the lower fey needs gestures or words. And some kinds of spells… need touch. I possess this kind of magic.”

    His whole being started to write scenarios again, faster than a flash of lightning, among the murmur of the thunder.

    “So… Lorian offered you this… intimate magic..?” the sleeping volcano of Tiyan’s emotions again threatened to burst.

    “Yes,” she replied, approaching even closer. Tiyan almost backed off. A insistent thought entered his brain and slowly wormed its way to his marrow.

    “Did he…? Were you… his…”

    Her expression couldn’t be more disappointed now. He knew that he offended her, even without looking at her face or hearing irritation in her voice. Her composure calm as a silent snow, but it was even worse than an outburst of righteous anger.

    “Why do all men think only about one thing? It’s not of your interest, but no. I never was “his” in any way your mind has brewed up. Magic chooses itself how to bloom in a human body, it wasn’t even his own choice, silly winter child.”

    Tiyan felt as deep shame washed over him with cold streams. He promised to himself, a few moments ago, to never judge or jump to conclusions and here he was, doing the very same.

    “I don’t need a knight on a white horse, Tiyan Markon” she spoke, starting to pull his sleeves up, on which he didn’t protest “I am not a naive girl, used by an evil fae prince. Maybe I don’t have a high position here, but I am trusted and I can do much more than clean bedrooms or do laundry.”

    “I am a fool” he admitted, when her hands started to circle over his arms and hands, sometimes pressing, sometimes just brushing against the skin.

    “Yes. Yes, you are,” she patted him condescendingly on the warmed up cheek.

    And she got lost completely in the magic that traveled from her veins to his skin, sending shivers down his spine.

    The magic was a bolt of energy, which was causing his hair to stand up and electrify. Everything in him was attracted to the spell she woven, like his tendons, muscles and nerves wanted to jump from him and stick to Leira like a sanguisuge. And there was something extremely sensual to it, which again made Tiyan angry. How many humans possessed this kind of power and how many of them the fey…

    She told you that it’s not your bussiness.

    Stop being an idiot.

    “You still compare sizes with prince Lorian in your thoughts” murmured Leira, a small and very mocking smile dancing on her lips. Tiyan felt exposed and stopped thinking at all.

    He sighed, when she stopped, unfurling his sleeves again and withdrawing her hands. Tiyan looked at his own body and saw that a frail mist envelops him, light and breezy. He didn’t feel anything… aside from shame mixed with… peace from her delicate touch, still lingering over his skin. Elusive but strangely familiar.

    She judged her craft with a wry expression and a charming grin crept in again, lighting her features even more intensely. There was something slightly predatory in it.

    “Perfect. Delicious. Now you are ready to be sacrificed to the monster” she complimented him.

    He didn’t swallow the bait.

  • nsfw,  poetry


    A poem for Lorian and Nymre. Lorian’s POV :3


    you drip with my shadows
    every crack filled; skin embraced by the hungry night
    your heart and soul beat at unison
    with the wild drum of my enchantment
    deep into your bones
    deep into your flesh
    deeper into the marrow
    to dissolve inside, sinking in your nerves
    like a promise of rain after a long drought

    do you feel me now?
    bathed in darkness
    pulling shivering threads of the light

  • wip

    Chapter V: Slaves and Fools – Part II

    Tiyan allowed himself a moment of much needed relaxation. Of course, their kindness could be a dark trick, but when he felt like rose-scented water splashes against his tired and pained limbs, he couldn’t stiffle a sigh of true relief.

    He was in Dal’coler, surrounded by enemies. The primal fear that kept him on his toes subdued, though. The calm silence of the bathing room, warm water and flowers drifting on the water’s surface numbed him. Be what has to be, but at least he won’t die dirty and reeking of rats and filth.

    It was his second bathing thub. The clear water was putting gleaming reflections on the walls, making the room look… magical.

    He took a small bottle filled with… something glittering, of deep green color, like fresh spring leaves. The uncorked it and strange scent enveloped him… like. Yes. Like liquid spring. The small leaves danced in the bottle, miniature signs of rebirth. Spring seemed to be closed in a small bottle and kept as a captive, until someone decided to bathe in it.

    He didn’t know why, but the fact that this was even possible, made him almost regain caution. Whatever they caught in this bottle, made one wonder what other things are captured in this palace.

    Deep down though… he was aware that the fae freed him. Perhaps to make him a slave, but he would break under the pressure of inquisitor’s torture. They could torment him for days, maybe months. Now, this situation was much better. He could hate Kilyans for all they did to humankind, he could oppose their orders… but he was bragging in pain before. No, torment and death were not better than a fae court.

    Of course the fae who kidnapped him so easily can do much worse things to him. But now, he felt relief. The pain started to ease on him and his body slowly started to heal.

    His mind won’t recover that fast, though.

    Tiyan took a deep breath and dived with his head into the water, laying on the bottom of the bathing tub and closing his eyes.

    This was almost lulling him to sleep, the silent movement of water and the sound of strange music, which under the water intensified and enveloped him with a soothing cocoon. He didn’t know where it came from, but was beautiful… and sad. Like lament clad in glitter and moonlight.

    Your imagination becomes wilder than a famished wolf, he thought and slowly, very slowly, he pushed the air from his lungs. The bubbles flew from his mouth and started to gleam on the water’s surface.

    When his lungs started to protest, he slowly poked his head out… and couldn’t stop himself from a surprised and angry screech, which sounded ridiculous even in his own ears.

    “Do you know the sense of privacy?!” he growled, trying to find something, anything to cover himself with. He decided the flowers would do well and gathered them over his bare body.

    “Usually yes” said the fae, who was sitting on the frame of the bathing tub, his finger making circles in the water. “But not when a person with whom we need to have a serious conversation, takes a few hours to bathe.”

    Tiyan realized, even through the anger, that he lost the sense of time. The bath loosened his sore muscles and he allowed safety to creep over him. Safety he shouldn’t feel.

    The fae this time was not naked. His black robes, made of raven feathers and fine silk, were tightly pressed to his limbs. The cape hung behind him, long enough to reach the floor. His temples were embellished with a silver crown.

    The prince.

    The prince of this place.

    “You are prince Lorian” he said with an accusation in his voice. He was aware how naive this had to sound. But he already faced too many surprises in the last few days.

    “Ah, Leira surely introduced me already. Did she make a good impression?”

    Something boiled in Tiyan.

    “You made her believe that she is here by free will! That is even worse than open slavery” he pushed more flowers over his crotch, to hide better. Prince Lorian looked at him intensely, with a dark amusement.

    “You truly are impervious,” he said slowly, with real curiosity in his eyes. “Someone in your place would be at least a little grateful for saving him from shadow torment.”

    Shadow torment.

    “Until you tell me why you saved me when I was a child and why you kidnapped me, I won’t stop being impervious,” hissed Tiyan. “I don’t intend to play your music, not knowing the melody.”

    “Clever!” Lorian’s face lightened up. “So you are not a hopeless example of a village fool, after all.”

    Tiyan didn’t know how to reply to that, so he sewed his mouth and decided to not say anything, until he gets a good and filling reply of what is this madness.

    Seeing the stubborn, harsh expression on his face, Lorian sighed.

    “Oh, but you are childish… good. Very well” he stood from the edge of the tub. His long cape floated behind him like bat wings. “Finish your long bath and dress up. I will explain it all.”

    “No tricks?” Tiyan narrowed his eyes.

    “No games” grinned Lorian and sweeping in the air with a cape theatrically, he led his steps to the door. He turned back though. “I will send Leira to you. And… you already judged her. Do not. And that, you can consider an order from someone who allowed you for another day of life.”

    Tiyan wanted to reply cleverly, hitting the fae with his irony, until he would feel it in his polished shoes. But something in the prince’s tone stopped him.


    Something darker than night.

    But he had one more question. Which burned him in the lips, urging to be let out.

    “Wait! How did you bring me here? Some kind of magic?”

    But Lorian already left, leaving behind a scent of jasmine and lilacs.