Side One Hundred And Five – The Raven Knight

Side One Hundred And Five – The Raven Knight

The far reaches of the Fae Realms are bleak indeed... The Raven Knight shook his head in disgust as his jaundiced yellow eyes surveyed the landscape. The lush forests of the land of the Fae had given way to dead groves of skeletal trees, bark bleached bone-white, leafless branches spread out like dead arms, welcoming visitors to death. A river ran beside him, though the water was black and filled with choking reeds and muck, and so cold, so terribly cold, that it was a wonder it was not frozen.

“For me to be forced to come to this accursed place...” he spoke, his words shockingly loud in the silence around him. Pulling his black-feathered wings around his body, he wondered where it had all gone wrong.

I let my hatred of the Fae, especially their royal lines, blind me to my greater goal. I was just so angry that the White creature betrayed me. Yes, I sensed her endless hunger, but even so... we had a deal, bound by the power of a Roman God. Roman. He sneered bitterly. The Romans were no friends of his, but he could still admire their prowess at governance, battle and more. They ruled better than Grandfather ever did...

“No, it is not my fault! It is simply impossible to remove the hatred from my heart. Many times I have been persecuted by the Fae, both the fair folk of the Seelie Court, and the dark, bitter creatures of the Unseelie.” He spoke as if to absolve himself, but it was mere hollow reassurance. “My father too, and grandfather, both were cheated by the Fae. In fact, my very birth...” angry now, he reached for the shattered sword at his waist. The blade was made of unearthly metal, a son to a greater blade, but even that had not prevented the breaking of the metal, and only a few inches of jagged steel remained attached to the hilt, the metal glittering with ruddy spots and streaks under the glowing light of the massive moon above. “Curse them all. Curse them!”

Curse them. His thoughts naturally strayed to the past, and as he trudged through the dead lands surrounding him, searching for any sign he was close to the hidden, always moving realm he sought, he could almost see the distant past, his memories so clear it was as if she was before him again.

“You shall never find success, dear nephew.” The speaker was fey and terrible, her beauty sure, pale skin and eyes that shifted colour from green to blue to brown, matching her hair that was at some times red, others a deep black. “After all, your birth itself was a sin, an aberration. Neither human nor Fae, yet not a half-breed either, like those foolish enough to fall for the honeyed words of the fair folk, or the dark seduction of the fallen ones. No, you are more half-human, half cursed.” She laughed then, her expression wicked and seductive, and he shuddered, having to drive the edge of his shattered sword into the flesh of his leg to keep from being mesmerised.

“Oh, you are no fun, dear nephew.” She sneered, the stink of sorcery diminishing, aether dying around her. “So, you wish to know, do you? Why everything you try fails?”

“Yes, great-aunt.” He had grated, bitterly regretting having to seek out this relative of his, one that he held half-responsible for the ruin of his family, the unfair slanders of history. Only half, though. The other was her, Fae whore who had meddled with his family from the start, setting them on the path to ruin.

“Great-aunt?” her voice hardened instantly, suddenly frigid as the winter in the northern mountains. “Do I look as old as that, nephew? Simply call me... aunt. I will not stand for anything else.”

At her threatening tone, he had conceded, hating himself anew. “Yes... aunt.” he resolved then to think of her as such from now to the day he would finally wrap his hands around her throat and choke the life from her, if it would get him the answers he sought.

“Very good.” She reached out a hand and stroked his cheek, and her skin was equally scalding and frigid, her lack of humanity clear through her touch. “My poor nephew, born under such unfortunate stars. No, moons would be more apt. Yes.” She smiled, clearly enjoying his discomfort. “I know your curse. It is the curse of self-destruction, that plagued your grandfather and father. After all, they brought their own doom upon themselves. You shall do no less, my dear nephew.”

He had screamed back then, incensed. “No, it was the meddling from you and that Fae! Him too, the accursed so-called wisest master of the arts. It all started going wrong then!”

“You are your father’s son, definitely.” His aunt smiled maliciously. “He was always blaming others for his own sins and failures. Just like his father before him. And your grandmother, and mother...”

“I will not hear you slander them, not you as well! You should know the truth, not the false history that has been...”

“Enough.” Her dread voice cut off his rants. “You are not to accuse me, nephew. You sought me out to know the truth, did you not? Well, the truth of your curse is, it is one of self-sabotage. All you attempt will fail, lest you find a way to unpick it from your very being.” She sniffed. “It is even beyond me to untangle, loath as I am to admit it. The Dark Queen of Pandemonium, perhaps she could... though the price would be more than you are willing to pay, I dare say.”

“Useless.” He had cried out in rage at his relative, and her gaze was cruel and lacking pity in return.

“Useless? I grant you information you need to know, and this is how you thank me, dear nephew? I see we are done here. Begone. Do not darken my door again unless you have an attitude more befitting one seeking a favour.” With that she had raised a hand, and he was thrown out of her hidden home. As he was flung away by a surge of wind, the air glittering with a million jade and emerald sparks, he heard her last words to him, the last he had exchanged with her. “If you ever see your brother once again, give him my regards...”

Barghests. Three of them. Winning is not impossible, but against three at once...

“No need to be so tense.” The lead Barghest rumbled, before turning to the Black Cap. “Run on home. We can’t afford to lose any more lanterns. Now go, fool. I daresay your Packmaster will be wishing to discipline you.” At those words the goblin, already pale from blood-loss, blanched further, a comical sight due to the green skin it possessed.

Watching it scuttle away, amused, tongue lolling out, dripping rivulets of drool, the Barghest barked a laugh. “Well, what brings the fabled Raven of Ill-Fortune out to the very borders of the Fae lands, where all fear to tread? There must be a story here, hmm?”

The other two barked their agreement, and the Raven Knight gathered himself. I have exhausted my options for allies. I need to make this work. “Greetings, mighty Barghests. I... apologise for the violence, but I was forced to defend myself.” Apologising made him burn with anger, but even so, there was no other way. “All I wanted was to meet with the leaders of the Wild Hunt.”

“Well, these are not the first deaths we have had recently.” One Barghest smirked. “Our attempts to pierce the borders of the Seelie Court have hardly gone well.”

“But what does the famous Knight of the Ravens wish with us?” the next barked.

“Yes. Betrayed the Unseelie, hated by and loathes the Seelie. Poor little Raven, outcast everywhere you go.” The lead one chuckled, slobbering everywhere. “So, what brings you to our door, desperate and alone?”

Ignoring their slanders, true as they were, he took a deep breath. “I come to bargain. I have news that the Wild Hunt may find useful. Even more so if your Hunts have been failing lately.” I can succeed. I am more than just my curse, my bitter wyrd! “I wanted to bring tidings of a lone and vulnerable member of the Seelie royal lines. Were you to capture her, the by-blow daughter of Prince Shaetanao, well, your opportunities for exploiting her would be endless.” Send her to her father one piece at a time. That would be most fitting!

The three Barghests were silent for a moment, and triumph stated swelling within his heart, before joyous laughter erupted from them. As he stood there, uneasy and wondering what was transpiring, the lead Barghest spoke. “Your tidings are late, Raven. Perhaps you should learn to fly faster.” As it continued to mock him, the Raven Knight found the answer to his fears.

“The daughter of Shaetanao, she has returned in triumph to the Seelie Court, our infiltrators tell us.” he growled, furious. “Worse, somehow she has defeated Duke Myrcolaxriath and the Spring of Clear Reflections is once more back in Seelie hands.”

The Spring? Impossible. Mind reeling, hopes crumbling, the Raven Knight protested. “That cannot be, even if the White one said that she had grown stronger, that wasteland of death is impenetrable, unconquerable...”

“So we thought, too.” The Barghest agreed. “It was most surprising. But we are not alone in thinking this way. We cannot allow the Seelie Court to regain its former glories. And we are not alone in those thoughts. Several tribes of Fae who are linked to neither Court, much like you, Raven...” he sneered. “... have decided to come together, to plot an attack the likes of which has not been seen since the last war between the Courts. Already, the Fomorian tribes who stood aside from the battle at Salamandrastrae have consented to join us, as have the Poison Nymphs, the Hobs, and many others...”

As the Barghests spilled their information, the Raven Knight listened, rapt, not even wondering why they were sharing such with him, who had been their enemy mere moments before. When the plan was explained, he grinned, his mask hiding his joy. “Magnificent. It... it could work! It would lay low not only the forces of the Seelie Court, but drawing in the Unseelie...” his mind raced, thinking of the permutations. “It carries risk though. A great risk...”

“Of course. But we are the Wild Hunt. If the prey cannot fight back, where is the sport in that?” the Barghest laughed, tongue lolling joyously. “So, your information might be stale, but your prowess is sure. Would you care to aid this endeavour? If so, we can pay a modest price. Consider it a favour for a favour.”

A modest price? A Dark Rhyming Tree, surely they can secure me one... “Yes, I think I shall. After all, this is why I came here, to seek redress and retribution. If possible, I would still like to speak to the Huntmasters. I have other information that might be... fresher.”

“Of course, of course.” The Barghests spoke together. “Do follow us, and we shall find you suitable... hospitality.”

Aunt, I wonder if you are dwelling within the Dark Court still? If so, will our paths cross again at last? If they do... will I be able to make you repent, for the cruel fate you wrought upon my father and mother?