The Faeyrwynn Prophecy

The Faeyrwynn Prophecy: Chapter Nine

 (6.14.12)

So, this chapter was originally a LOT longer, but I felt like this little peek into Cyr's head was much-needed. Chapter 10 will continue this though, so don't worry. Give me your thoughts anyways, and I hope you like it!

~TMG~

-Cyr-

I poked at the now-burning fire pensively. Across from me sat my long-lost brother, who I’d heard legends about since birth, but had never met. I knew it was him in an instant, even without seeing Meila beneath him.

            Seth was weak−pitifully so− in combat. But he certainly had potential, that much was obvious. Over the years my imagination has built him as a lanky teenager, spoiled by American consumerism. In that respect, he surprised me.

            He had a modest, athlete’s body, perhaps gained by playing a “school sport” or something of that nature. Seth was very quiet and thoughtful, more than I expected of somebody with his Power.

            Most Fey of this Realm were very vain and proud, even the Servants kept their noses slightly upturned.

            And then there was the way he’d defended Meila from the Shadow Kadys.

From what I had heard back at The Grounds, they had only known each other for a few months. Yet he threw himself into danger, completely relying on the creature’s mercy and accepting a highly likely death.

            “So uh, how’ve you been?” Seth asked awkwardly, bringing my train of thought to a screeching halt.

            I coughed, clearing my throat.

 “Err… good, I guess,” I said uneasily, failing for once to come up with a witty remark.  Of all the years I spent imagining this moment, I didn’t know what to tell him.

            “Tell me about The Grounds,” he suggested, sitting forward with his eyes trained intently on me.

I noticed his eye was discolored an odd gradient of purple and blue. Unwrapping a package of dried avo as I thought of the best way to start.

Hovering a metal skillet over the fire, I added a few herbs.

            “The Grounds are divided into two halves that represent the Courts,” I explained, rotating my wrist to cook the food evenly.

            “Courts?” Seth interrupted.

“Yes, yes. The Winter and Summer Courts created The Grounds to secure a sort of common reprieve during times of war. Neither court is allowed to conflict with the other, so it’s much like a refuge for temporary peace,” I continued, shaking the skillet a few times before scraping the food onto three small plates.

             I took Meila’s plate to her, but she was still fast asleep in her leaf pile. Nudging her shoulder with the toe of my boot, she woke up, her nose twitching at the smell of food. She snatched the plate from me, ignoring the fork and attacking the food with her fingers.

I chuckled, returning to the fire as she devoured her meal.

            “She’ll be alright to travel,” I assured, when I saw Seth’s face creased in worry.

             “The place is guarded on both sides by sentries from each season’s Court. The Summer half is made of an ancient living tree, what you might call a giant  tree house. Only this tree house is far  different, you’ll see,” I explained between mouthfuls of food.