Dusk of the Realm

34

He sat by the shore until the suns went down completely. Even then, he was determined to see this through, and simply laid on his back to watch the stars appear. He tried to keep count of them, but after a while, he knew some were slipping into existence past his awareness. That was when he allowed his eyes to drift closed.

"Tarin Wulf."

He woke up with a start and was on his feet in an instant, a dagger already in each hand.

"Who speaks?" he asked into the darkness. He could hear the sound of water lapping nearby, and though it was a peaceful sound, it did nothing to calm his nerves as he stood, supposedly alone, in the blackness.

Light female laughter came from behind him - or perhaps from far to his left. In fact, it seemed to be coming from all over, and he gripped the daggers tighter.

"Tarin, I am no enemy of yours."

"Then show yourself," he commanded. He could still see nothing but himself and the knives in his hands. He could not even track down his target with his ears, let alone his eyes. If this woman did end up being an enemy, he might have finally met his match, as not even his magic seemed able to penetrate the black curtains surrounding him.

Another giggle, and with this one came a gust of wind which, upon brushing past Tarin, soothed him enough that he dropped the daggers to the ground. Once they landed, they vanished into the darkness, and he felt another gust of wind, or magic, or something, blow past - once that one had faded, his weapons belt had fallen away as well.

"I will allow you to keep the swords at your back, but only because I know that they once belonged to one of my sons," the woman said, and her voice was now like a balm to his tension. "I do hope that you will not attempt to harm me, Tarin Wulf. I have never been a fan of violence, which is one of the reasons I called for you."

Tarin licked his lips, his eyes darting around the room and his hands trembling as if they did not know what to do without a weapon in their grip. "Queen Muiress?" he gambled.

He suddenly felt enveloped in magic, and yet, he was not concerned. This was not magic that wished to harm him, but to embrace him, to welcome him. More likely, he realized just moments later, it was meant to welcome the crowned water nymph that stepped out of the shadows before him.

He recognized her immediately, as Serena had indeed inherited more than one of Muiress' features. The pale skin that glowed with some sort of lunar appeal like no other Fae Tarin had known, for one; and of course, her eyes - that blue that made him want to stare into them forever just to discover their depths.

She had the pointed ears of a Fae, of course, with the upturned nose and the structured cheekbones that were common among their kind. Her hair lay damp and straight down her back, and whereas Serena's locks were black as the wings of a raven, Muiress' were as white as a dove. Her head was topped by a simple tiara that looked to be made of coral and inlaid with pearls. She wore an even simpler blue gown that flowed on its own, as if she was underwater.

"Queen Muiress," he repeated, and he was sure this time. He dropped to his knees, feeling as though it was only right to do so. He was still disoriented by the setting she had drawn him into, but he was not one to question such a ruler. He had chosen from a fairly early age to devote himself to the Realm and the crowned ones of it, and knew Muiress' story like the back of his hand. She had been one of the best - if not the best - rulers the Realm had ever seen. Never had the Fae had such pure hearts as during her reign - that much had never been contested.

He would not have been worthy to be in her presence during her life, and yet here he was, called to her through the fabric of the heavens.

"Rise, Warrior of the Moon," she said, and he got to his feet. She was smiling at him, though there was a hint of unease in her expression. "You need not kneel to me."