The King Of Death | Hades + Fae

Chapter Four

Hades

I knew I was an idiot the moment I encountered my first fae with round ears. From what I had learned over the last thousand years, fae and humans lived in harmony within the kingdom of Ulanda - but that obviously isn't the case anymore. 

Instincts told me to burn the whole village to the ground and demand an audience with their leader, but my cold dead heart thundered in my chest and held me back and the Fates whispered in my ears. Instead, I'd created a small shadowy mist, a minuscule portion of my power, and tried to convince the fae that I was one of them. 

I wasn't sure whether it had worked the way I intended, but I found myself atop a black steed and on my way to The Castle Of Lavender. 

"Why are your ears round?" My captor asks for the hundredth time as he trots along beside me. He is young, in fae years anyway, with long blonde hair that is pulled back into a bun at the base of his neck and pale skin dotted with freckles. We stand out like yin and yang with my ink black hair flowing freely down to my jaw and my dark caramel skin. I also tower over him by at least a foot, but it hasn't stopped his incessant questioning. 

"I was born this way. How long until we reach the king?" Silence. The same as every other time I'd asked. It doesn't escape me how his eyes flicker away and his shoulders tense whenever I mention the king, and yet he still skirts around the conversation. 

Is he that much of a tyrant? 

It doesn't matter, not now. I just need to be granted permission to stay and then I'd find a nice quiet part of the woods and never bother anyone again, for as long as it took to plan Orfeas' demise. 

"So... you're not human?" I push my shoulders back as the sparks from my power begin to sizzle at my veins. One fae death, surely that can be forgiven from a god? Before I have a chance to test the theory a man bursts through the tree line in front of us on a gold and grey speckled stallion. 

We'd been moving through the dense forrest for two days now, not stopping to rest nor to eat or drink. The only reprieve I'd gotten from the exhaustion is the cool breeze that carried every scent I never thought I'd get to experience again. Fresh grass after rain, blossoming wildflowers, fertile earth. The fae lands are blessed, vast and covered in foliage with more fauna than I ever thought possible. Rabbits gnaw on patches of shrubbery unaffected by our presence, deer yip and bounce around us and eagles perch upon branches without a care in the world. 

They aren't scared of us, not like they are of the humans who destroyed forests to make way for concrete jungles.

"Evander, did you meet with..." The man to my left shoots me a wayward glance, not finishing his sentence. I grind my teeth together to keep from using the profanity his kind hated so much.

"Yes, they will accept the... prisoner." My back straightens at his strained words. The king. He'd ridden ahead to greet the court and warn them of my arrival. Yet he still looks nervous, anxious, like the hardest part wasn't over. 

"Does your king scare you so much that you fear returning?" Maybe I do care, maybe the balance of good and evil that had been shoved into my chest upon my birth can't be silenced. People, fae and human alike, irritate me to no end - but they are innocents and despite my reputation I am a god of balance. Balance of life and death, balance of good and evil.

The newcomer glances my way with his lips pursed in a straight line almost like my question offends him, finding enough conviction to straighten his shoulders and sit taller. Still no closer to matching my daunting frame. 

"Our majesty does not scare me, not in the way you are referring to." At his words, the man beside me reaches over and slaps the ass of my horse causing it to lurch forward into a trot. I reach forward just in time to keep myself steady and fight against the ever bubbling magic below my skin. I need a release, and soon. 

"Our majesty is kind and generous, what we fear is bringing you to kneel before... them." Our. Them. Is there more than one ruler? These fae are beginning to give me a headache with their incessant riddles and skirting of the truth. 

We continue on, no more words spoken between us - and yet words still flittered through my ears with a softness and kindness they hadn't held before.

Peace is coming.

Peace? When only days ago they'd screamed death at me? 

The Fates are fickle creatures, never revealing more than necessary and never explaining their whispers. It is rare to hear them, so rare I'd almost forgotten what they sounded like, but as those words continue to float around me on an unnatural breeze that caresses my body, my power stops prickling my skin and my muscles relax. 

What do they have planned for me?