"Four days," she said, disbelieving. "I asked for as much time as could be bought, and your pathetic forces give me four days?"
Hivlik, her miserable excuse for a general, was pale. "Your Highness, we have tried our best to fulfill all of your orders, but Wulf—"
"—has gotten through your defenses," she hissed, even as his expression morphed into one of shock. "Yes, Hivlik — trust me, he is coming. How long would it take him to get here from the time and place the massacre of Geldon's groups was discovered?"
Hivlik hesitated, and she slapped him for it. "You reported that your men have not found him. The traps are untouched, and yet there is no sign that they have journeyed back towards Azure. He has tricked you, and he is on his way. How long do we have?"
Hivlik cringed, her slap having produced some blood in his pallid face. "We... from their camp, it would take our units at least three days to get to base — probably more. The runner, the one who informed us of the massacre, he made it in three, but he was alone, and he was moving like hells. The Fae..."
He trailed off, and Eris hissed out a curse. She had expected more. More out of her pathetic men. More success from the traps she had laid. More effect on Wulf when she had said those things to him in the guise of his beloved princess. More time.
She had a plan. She was clever enough to come up with that even in such a short time, even under such pressure. But she needed more time to implement the rest of it. If Wulf was already on her doorstep, it could be too late.
She lifted a hand, her eyes sparking with electricity. Hivlik cried out as his feet left the safety of the floor, as he slammed into the opposite wall. Eris clenched her fingers as if she were strangling him, and his throat, in kind, showed the indents of her fingertips. She offered him a ruthless smile, and his eyes bugged out of his head.
"How long until he is here?" she repeated.
Hivlik did not hesitate this time, though she had to strain her ears to hear his words through the gasping. "I would... guess... he will be here today... Your Highness..."
"Not good enough!" she shrieked, whipping her hand through the air. Hivlik's body followed, striking the fireplace before crumpling down before the flames, blood trickling from his forehead. He gazed up at her with eyes covered in a glaze of terror.
"Yes; it's horrifying, isn't it?" she murmured, her voice suddenly coddling rather than murderous; a shift that simply seemed to scare the general more. "Magic? The fact that every Fae can do the types of things I just did to you... it isn't fair, and it isn't right. Of course they rule over the rest of us with such blatant advantages.
"But," she continued, and glided across the floor, her long, smooth white hair trailing an inch or so across the floor, as if it composed the back of her gown. "If you take those advantages away..."
She then shot out her hand, and Hivlik flinched... but then recovered as he saw what she was holding up by the collar of her expensive, yet filthy, dress.
The princess.
Eris dangled her as if she were nothing but a doll, and for all the fight the girl put up, she might as well have been. Hivlik was watching through his stupor with shock and awe fighting for dominance in his expression. Fighting each other, that was, as well as fighting the fear.
"If you take those away," she repeated, smiling at the princess' sleeping face with a sense of triumph, "they are no longer glorious. They are no longer gods."
Eris was so lost in the vision of becoming a god herself that she only realized something was amiss when Hivlik made a dreadful sound; a thick gurgle, as if...
Eris whipped around, not daring to loosen her grip on the princess. Hivlik's eyes were wide and glassy, but he was still alive, choking on his own blood from the cut across his neck. She urged herself not to gag as she looked around without moving her body. She did not see anyone, but her magic felt them. Told her that there were intruders, and not just any, at that.
Fae.
Her stolen magic seemed almost to reach out to theirs, as if they were long-lost friends that had come to reclaim it. She snarled deep in her throat and pulled the force to her, wrapping it around her like a robe before tying it to her as she would a restraint.
Having a good idea of who it was that had not only managed to sneak into her base, but into this very room, Eris pulled the princess' back against her front, and flicked a dagger out of her sleeve. Then she pressed the edge against the little girl's delicate throat.
"Come out, come out, Warrior of the Moon," she chanted softly, reigning in her heartbeat just as she had her magic. "I'm sure you would prefer my hand to remain steady, after all."
There was a moment when Eris thought she might have been dreaming it all, when she was staring into the emptiness and silence of the room but for the crackling of flames. After all, how would anyone have gotten in here? There was no window, and the door had been guarded. Not to mention that the base itself was heavily secured. And she had not heard anyone, had not seen any sort of movement. Was it really possible that she had not paid close enough attention to her magic before to sense their approach?
The last question, at least, was answered when Tarin Wulf discarded his magic, appearing in the center of the room with his spine straight and his expression grim. Whatever he was feeling, he was doing a good job of hiding it.
"So you know who I am. And I know who you are, as well," he stated, his voice just a whisper on the wind beyond the stone wall, an ember in the flames. "Your name is Eris. You call yourself a queen, but you do not have a single drop of royal blood."
She contained her shudder, not wanting this man to see the effect of what he was saying, but still felt a chill run down her spine. He was trying to unsettle her with this information he had somehow gathered. He wanted to distract her long enough to snatch the princess from her.
But she was not a fool. She knew that the girl she held was her only lifeline at this point, and so she clutched her tighter, reinforcing her grip on her blade as she did so. Wulf's eyes narrowed infinitesimally, but he did not stop speaking.
"You lived in Perpetuum with your parents, Oviddus and Leigh, until you disappeared from their home months ago with only a note saying you wanted to explore. You chose to come to the Realm. Somewhere along the way in these lands, you grew to hate the Fae and everything they could do, everything that they stand for."
Eris hissed like a caged animal. "I would stop talking if I were you, Wulf," she cautioned. The warrior moved a step closer, and the answer to another question she had asked earlier clicked into place in her mind: She had not heard them because they made no noise. Nothing.
"You thought to build up a weak but large army to challenge the race that had dared taunt you with their powers," he proclaimed, and Eris slid a small step back, hating herself for the noise she made while doing so. She had the girl's magic, but she had not mastered all aspects of it yet. Not even close. "The Fae, for their magic, the blessings of their heritage. And what better way to strike at those who call the Realm home than to threaten their princess?"
Eris made a noise in her throat and spat at the Fae's feet. "Stop speaking of your kind as though you are not one of them," she said, and there was a slight gleam in Wulf's eyes even as he took another step towards her. She knew that she was close to the table that Serena had been lying on earlier now, that there would be nowhere for her to go soon enough. She gripped the dagger with all her strength.
"I am correct in all of this so far, aren't I, Eris?" Wulf wondered, his voice filled with nothing but his curiosity for her answer. "And I know even more than that. I know that you will not win if you choose to pursue a war. The Fae will defeat any forces you throw at them. And since it seems to me as though you are not acting under the orders of the Eternal royalty, our two races may even form an alliance against you. Surely you can see that the outcome of that would be catastrophic for you.
"I know that you will not win this fight, if you choose to make it one. So do you, Eris. And because of that, I know that you will not harm a hair on that girl's head. You will pass her over to me, and then I will spare your life."
Rage rose in Eris, and though she knew it was stupid, knew she only said it to get a reaction out of Wulf other than this horrible lecturing, she spat, "Oh, that's how it will happen, is it?" before angling the dagger and dragging the tip down the princess' cheek, a shallow cut that was meant only to spite the general.
Wulf watched with eyes filled with the flames of an unholy grave. She had sliced the girl quickly, but she had still expected Wulf to move, to rush at her, to do something other than just stand there. Not that she was not relieved to still be breathing.
Then...
"By the time I'm through with you, the crows won't even consider your corpse," Wulf stated, as calmly as if he had just told her the weather.
Then she felt his magic flow through her limbs, and she gasped. Gasped, before breaking out into boisterous, victorious laughter.
It had worked. It had all worked perfectly.
It took no longer than for Wulf to force her to drop the girl and the dagger for him to realize it. To recognize the life force of the Fae that coated her veins.
The dagger he had snatched up clattered back to the floor before he even placed it against her skin.
"What is this?" he demanded. Eris blinked as his control left her body, as she saw the way he cradled the child, her raven ringlets hanging over his arm, her eyes closed in peace.
She smiled.
"You really think that I am a fool, don't you, Tarin Wulf?" she asked.
She saw the tendons of Wulf's hands sticking out as he clenched them. "Just get it out, Eris. You're clearly eager to torment me with it."
Oh, but she was. She did not think she had ever had such fun before. But... "Patience, Wulf," she said. "And you should know, I will not explain a single thing until you get rid of your dogs. I do not find it fair that you get to kill mine, and yet yours continue panting behind your back like good little pets."
Wulf made a quick gesture with his free arm, and suddenly, the room was much more full than it had first appeared. Six sets of glaring eyes met hers, and Eris breathed in their hatred, her magic rippling as if strengthened by it.
"Leave," he ordered. His followers all glanced at him in surprise.
"Sir—" one of the women began, but he shook his head sharply.
"Get out of this room," he commanded.
"Sir, at least let us take the princess—" the young man tried to say, but broke off when Eris laughed; a cruel, humorless sound. A sound meant only to echo in people's ears, to serve as distraction, to make their pride bristle. To make them doubt themselves.
"You say my army is weak, Wulf, and I cannot say I disagree," she said, "but at least I know how to earn obedience amongst my soldiers."
"You shut your mouth—" the same woman as before seethed, but she, again, was cut off — this time by herself. Or so it seemed. Her mouth clamped shut even as her eyes went wild. Eris flicked her gaze over the rest of the Fae standing behind Wulf and saw that they were much the same. Impressive, indeed, to control five formidable Fae warriors at once. She was not one to doubt his abilities; she never would. That was a Fae trait, the unbearable sense of superiority. They probably thought her a coward for admitting that she was weaker than her enemies, but she called it a strength. She knew where she was flawed, so she made up for those areas through sheer cunning. The Fae, however, were so self-involved that they would never see defeat coming. Not from a spineless Eternal like herself.
The Fae walked out of the room smoothly. Eris marveled at that, too. Nobody would guess that they were not moving of their own accord. Even their expressions had smoothed over, become as blank as Wulf had the ability to make his. Right now, however, he was not bothering.
The instant the older Fae who brought up the rear of the group closed the door behind them, Tarin Wulf tossed the girl in his arms to the floor as if she was nothing but a load of trash.
The next instant, one of his swords — an ancient blade, terrifying not just in appearance, but in its acts of legend — was hovering over her heart.
"Eternal life you might have," the warrior murmured, "but you can still die just as easily as a mortal if I drive this steel through your heart. You know that as well as I."
Eris grinned. She knew that even though he was the one with the bigger weapon, though he was the one who was better trained, the more skilled magician... despite all of his greater talents, she had the upper hand.
"Very true," she said, bobbing her head in a nod. She could not quite erase the smile from her lips, and Wulf's expression grew ever-darker. As dark as whatever awaited savage souls like theirs in the next life, if Eris could even hazard such a guess. She was not planning to visit that world for a long time.
"Then you will tell me now," Tarin Wulf continued, the tip of his sword drawing blood that trickled down the curve of her breast, "where my princess is."
Her grin turned feral.
-----------------------------
He could not make sense of where he had gone wrong.
They had made it to the base that morning, and had spent perhaps more time than they should have trying to find the best way to sneak in. He had no qualms about killing the rebel Eternals, but in doing so, they would give away not only their location, but the fact that they were there at all. He had hoped to keep Eris in the dark, hoped to catch her by surprise, to get her flustered enough to give in. He had thought his plan was sound, but now...
She was grinning at him like a maniac, her teeth as white as her hair. Her eyelashes were white as well, as if dusted with powdered snow. They made her eyes look like a darker green than they were.
She looked... timeless. Like the Fae, in a way. Tarin was old in mortal years, but generally young by immortal standards. Triana was older, but the only way you could tell was by really looking into her face, particularly her eyes. Her expressions would sometimes be lined by the deeper emotions that younglings did not face as often; perhaps because the way they felt about something did not reflect the feelings of a whole kingdom. Her sorrow would be a grave, ancient grief; her happiness, like the utter abandon felt by Fae children. Her eyes held more wisdom, more worldliness, than Tarin ever expected to gain, though he did hope.
Eternals, though... they were different in their timelessness. They did not have the gift of magic. In the mortal world, the concept of living forever would be considered magical; he had spoken with a few humans before, and he knew that to be true. However, in the Realm, in Perpetuum, in the dimension that all the races he knew best inhabited, it was not strange. It was not magical. It just was.
Just like Eris just was. She looked now as she had looked whenever she had performed the Ritual of No Passing. In her case, somewhere in her late thirties, Tarin would guess. Eternals had a choice as to when they stopped growing, but Fae... well, for Fae, it depended on the will of their magic. Most Fae stopped aging once they reached maturity, but there were a few that grew to look a bit older than the rest over time. Tarin had always thought such an affliction was due to things that might have happened in their personal lives — things that had stuck with them, caused them great pain or stress. King Agros had certainly looked older than Triana, but not by any scandalous amount. But what else did one expect from a king, someone whom an entire Realm depended on?
Birches was another, but Tarin did not know enough about the man's background to make a guess as to why his hair had greyed a bit along the sides. He did know, however, that no matter how a Fae looked, they were all immortal. Ever since magic had shared its force with them, their lives had changed completely and utterly. No Fae had died of natural causes; hardly any Fae had died at all unless they chose to Ebb back into the fabric of the heavens themselves. Their kingdom was great and powerful, and for this woman to challenge it...
It had been easy to find the room she was in. He just followed Serena's scent, and in the meantime, went through all the information his queen had gained for him in his mind.
A warning was not the only message he had asked the twins to send to the queen. Before they had completed their spell, he had asked them to edit it slightly, and of course they had obliged. And of course, though she was wildly unhappy, with him, with life, Triana gave him an answer. Because he had told her it was in order to get Serena home.
She had sent an apparition of herself to the court of Perpetuum at his bequest. He was sure it had created quite a stir in their ballroom, when the Queen of the Realm of the Fae suddenly appeared in the midst of the dancing. He was sure he would learn more about what had occurred later, but for now, he had enough information to go off of. He had just wanted to know whatever facts about this woman that he could get his hands on after he had finally heard one of the soldiers around the base saying her name.
It was a technique that usually succeeded in unnerving his prey. The more he knew about them, the more he talked about them as if they were old friends, the more they tended to realize how unlikely it was for them to get away, to win. He had seen it working on Eris, too, but maybe... maybe she was a better player at this game than he had given her credit for.
After all, there was no other explanation as to why he had tracked Serena's scent up to this room. Her scent, and her magic. As if he was being tugged along by a string, he had followed the calling of her presence, of the magic that composed her body and made it as durable as it looked dainty. His elites had followed, sure that he knew what he was doing, and once they found the door, and saw Eris holding Serena in the air by the back of the collar of her dress, they had acted without any suspicion that they might have walked into a trap.
But what other explanation was there for the fact that when his magic had invaded Eris' body, it was Serena's magic that tried to fight him off?
Or for the fact that the girl he had been so desperate to find, the girl who looked exactly like his princess, the girl he caught before she could fall to the stone floor, was not Serena at all?
He had felt it the instant he made contact with her skin, the instant her little hand brushed against his arm. Or rather, he realized the lack of feeling, the lack of connection and spark that he had felt every time he was near her for the past seven years. And yet, he could feel the pulse beating in the girl's body. The girl that was not Serena. The girl Eris had somehow used to trick him. To trick them all.
"I don't mind telling you what you want to know. I had planned to do so all along," Eris chirped, pausing to let out a yawn. "But it will be done in the way of a bargain. A promise exchanged for a promise, that sort of thing. I'm sure, as a Fae, you're well familiar with the concept."
Tarin felt his nostrils flare, and he pushed the sword against her skin a little harder, until the blood was a thin trickle rather than just single droplets. "I will not make a deal with you."
"Then you will never know what I've done with your darling princess," Eris snarled.
They had reached a stalemate, but Tarin knew as well as she did who would come out triumphant. She had nothing to lose but her life — something that she was bound to keep so long as she had this information. Tarin had everything, everything, to lose, and somehow, this Eternal woman knew it. He could see it in the gleaming of her eyes.
"What do you want from me?" he demanded. He hated the fact that he felt inferior. He had never been on this side of an exchange before, had never felt like the weaker person. It was a bizarre and unwelcome feeling.
Eris smiled again. "First off, I want my immunity. I want my life, guaranteed."
Tarin replied with a smile of his own. "An infinity for one piece of information? I don't think you've ever struck a bargain with a Fae before, your Highness. The offers have to be somewhat equal."
Eris laughed softly, the motion causing his sword to pierce her a bit more, though she did not even seem to feel it. "You are not fooling me, general. I know how important this information is to you. But if you insist..." She licked her lips, a usually nervous gesture, though she made it look predatory. "Alright. You don't need to spare my life as part of the bargain. I have a feeling that you'll be doing that anyway."
Tarin meant to growl, but the sound ended up becoming a sort of disbelieving chuckle. Here he was, holding a sword to her, already drawing blood, and she was acting as though he was too afraid to plunge it in. In this situation, he was, of course, but in general... the act of killing her — that he could do. That he could do with no reservations, no guilt. It was only because of the princess that he had stayed his hand this long at all.
And he hated this woman for it.
"Why would I be doing that?" he asked, trying, trying to keep his temper in check. He knew he was playing right into her hands, asking all the things she wanted him to ask. Somehow, he had ended up doing everything she had wanted him to do, as well. Even inches from death, Eris seemed to be exactly where she wanted to be.
"Because if I die, so does Serena," Eris breathed out, her lips stretching into a wicked smile.
Tarin's sword hand shook, but he did not put the weapon down. "Explain."
"She gave me her magic," Eris said. Such a huge statement to make, and she did not even hesitate. "She handed it over to me, along with all of her memories. She let go of everything that she is, Tarin Wulf. She is no longer Fae; no longer like you. No longer your dear Princess."
His sword wobbled. It could not be true.
"You're lying," he said out loud.
Eris laughed and made a wiggling motion with her fingers before reaching up towards his face. He cringed, but he saw the magic working out of the corner of his eye, and the sight struck him dumb. He had felt the magic inside of her, had sensed that it belonged to Serena, but he did not believe that it could be possible...
And yet, suddenly, a single yellow dandelion materialized in Eris' hand, and she playfully pretended to draw it out from behind Tarin's ear before presenting it to him.
"I'm not," she stated simply.
It was because of her knowledgeable smirk that he did not fight back the memory that struck him at the sight of the flower. She knew. She knew.
"What are these ones called?" the princess wondered, pointing at a rosebush.
"Those are roses, Princess. You know that," Tarin replied, patting her knee.
She gripped his hair and tugged it to try to direct him, as if he were a stallion. He did not object only because her four-year-old strength was hardly even noticeable, and because he knew that she was smiling up on his shoulders. He would never want to bring down the edges of one of those smiles.
"What about those?" she asked, pointing out the dandelions that she had already asked about twice today. Tarin did not mind.
"Dandelions, Princess. But we talked about this; those aren't flowers. Those are weeds that the gardeners pick out of the soil so that they don't ruin all the prettier plants."
Serena bopped him sharply on the head, and he fought back his smile, awaiting the reprimand he was sure to follow — the reprimand she gave him nearly every day, when he said nearly the same thing.
"Put me down!" she commanded.
"As your Majesty wishes," Tarin replied in a grandiose tone, though Serena rarely noticed when he was joking with her about her titles. He built her up so much, perhaps, that she simply expected the royal treatment he lavished on her. Again, something that he did not mind.
She stalked over to the spot where a small bunch of dandelions had found their roots and pointed at them imperiously, glaring darkly at her protector. He made his eyes go wide, as if he was aware that he had made a grave error when calling the yellow flowers weeds. Ever the merciless four-year-old, however, Serena still felt the need to chastise him thoroughly.
"Do you see these?" she asked. She waited until he nodded before continuing, "These are beautiful flowers. Do you understand?" Again, he nodded, but she was still not satisfied. "What are these, Tarin?"
"They are the most beautiful flowers I have ever seen," he responded, and finally, that smile broke through once more, and his heart lightened. Even though he knew that it was an act she liked to put on, some part of him was always nervous that she would not snap out of it immediately, that she would be genuinely upset with him about something. So when she smiled again was the only time he could feel that relief, when he knew that he would not be given the type of silent treatments she sometimes liked to give her mother. It might seem pathetic to some people, to be so enthralled by a near-toddler, but if they felt the bond, the bond formed by magic with roots of destiny as intrusive as the roots of those dandelions, they would understand.
She picked one then and placed it against her nose, closing her eyes as she inhaled. She breathed in deeply and grinned, peeking open one eye as she checked to make sure that he was watching her. The little dramatist.
"Princess," he called softly. She opened both of her eyes now, giving him a look full of curiosity as he raised a hand to her face.
When he pretended to pluck a dandelion from her ear and showed her the evidence of it in his palm afterward, her eyes lit up like the stars.
"Magic!" she cried, clapping her hands excitedly. Tarin grinned.
"Do you want to learn how to make flowers?" he asked.
Her nod was wild, and they spent the entire next week focusing on not only creating flowers through magic, but also decorating with them. Triana had to scold Serena at least twice a day for filling and covering things with the flowers — the sugar bowl in the kitchens, the sheets of the servants' beds, her own throne. But Serena was a force of nature that could not be stopped, and eventually, Triana just relented, doing nothing more about it except casting the occasional glare in Tarin's direction at dinner: When a servant went to pour them flavored water, for instance, but instead of liquid, a bouquet of flowers fell into her glass. She would seem annoyed, but Tarin always caught the humor in the glances.
"Stop with the games," Tarin snapped, but his anger just fueled Eris' pleasure. "Your belief is flawed, Eris. If in fact you did steal my princess' magic, it only gives me more reason to end your life, so that it will return to Serena once more." He steadied his hand, his sword standing at the ready.
Eris nodded thoughtfully, and he felt his heart sink slightly in his chest as she did not seem concerned. She had already thought this through. There was more to this plan. He had thought he was so prepared, but this woman... she had outsmarted him. She had outdone him. He would do anything for the princess, anything for her safety, and she knew it, she knew it, and she knew more than that, too. She knew that the dandelion would fill him with unease, knew exactly how he had once presented it to Serena. But how she knew... that, he did not know.
"That would be true," Eris replied, a savageness to her tone, "if — hypothetically speaking, of course — the princess were still in your precious Realm."
He had never felt less in control of a weapon before. His hand was wrapped around it, his strength was holding it in place, he was wounding her with it, and yet... she was the one wielding it.
"What are you talking about," he breathed. Not a question — a plea. A haunted thought.
She had him. She had known it all along, and she had played him like a fool. The heavens would surely damn him for all of this. They had chosen him for greatness, they had given him the bond with Serena, and now he was being punished for failing her. He was falling into an abyss, and where he would normally expect to find handholds to claw himself back up was only darkness.
"Princess Serena is princess no longer," Eris proclaimed, lifting her chin with shining eyes as she said it. She was proud of herself.
"The mortal girl is in the mortal world now, where she belongs."