Solstice (Pt. 2)

Solstice (Pt. 2)

They descended on the party and brought stories. From another world. From many worlds, perhaps.

Timeless tales. A strangeness in the air; as if anything could happen. The opposite of the days when Ryoka had looked up at the sky and seen only smog, seen nothing to do or dream of.

These folk were the times stories had been made of. They had walked among legends and watched the things that defined culture and imagination. And they had been great, greater than you could believe.

It was such a relief to see them. Even those who did not know who they are knew them.

The keepers of stories. Beings of myth and legend. Immortals of another world.

The fae folk.

Here, in a moment after the eclipse passed. Resplendent in every color, flitting about, grabbing treats or laughing. This was a day of celebration, after all!

The longest day. For a second, the mortal guests just stared, wondering how they had suddenly doubled their numbers. Realizing that someone had been there who had not been a moment ago. The faes entrance was so natural that it became all the more surprising when you realized it.

Then one of them spoke.

The food! And drink! And dance and sights! How glorious! How wonderful! And all for us!

The speaker was male, cheeks glowing with the same vibrancy as the voice. The listeners stirredand saw him snatch a caramelized apple and bite into it. He chewed, laughing, and he was both immortal and very mortal. Savoring such a simple action, simple delights.

Dead gods.

Someone breathed. Tyrion Veltras started. He half-turned. And saw it was Jericha. She, like him, stared. As if waking from a dream into

Another dream. Only, it was reality. The [Lord] of House Veltras turned, and as he came to his senses, he noticed the warriors.

There were two kinds of guest here. One was the court of the fae. A dancing, singing, laughing, impish mob of all sorts and stations. Some, as Ryoka had seen, were vibrant, realer, more powerful. But they were still of the same nature, here for the party.

The second kind were the warriors, like the armored thing of frost and metal who stood next to Ulva Terland and the laughing fae on the Golems lap.

There wereless than a dozen of them. A paltry escort! And yeteach one made Tyrion sweat. His hand was on his sword. But he did not draw it.

Hospitality. There was more than an [Emperor]s will in this. Part of him sensed that to offer violence in this place, at this time, was unwise. Even sohe had yet to release the grip on his sword.

Did they even have faces? What were they? The silent warriors took no part in the delight. Their armor and blades were of no make or style he could name. They stood half-invisible in their stillness.

Warriors of the Faerie King. Some, like Lady Rie, Bethal, Thomast, had seen one of them for the last party. Now, there were seven.

Magic in numbers. They stood around the place marked out for the fae, sentinels. Interestinglythat was how the fae had appeared.

None in the streets of Riverfarm. None past the place made without iron, specially designated for them. It was as if they knew where they were welcome. For all that, they called out, to the stunned crowd, to the entertainers.

Weve come! Bring your gifts, sellers of things!

Aye, and your food! Yon pile of snacks! The delights of sweet and breads! Bring it here!

Dance for us! Dance with us! We were promised a party like no other! On this longest dayshow us delights!

They laughed. Their voices a chorus, indistinguishable in the mob. But againthey were not all alike.

And they were here. The fae! Ryoka Griffin stared about as one cartwheeled past her, laughing. She caught a narrow face, eyes without pupils, dark, glittering. Wings

A pixie? Only, human-sized! She leapt, and gravity forgot to touch her. Flashing past a Level 40 [Tumbler] soaring through the air. The performer from Invrisil gawked as much as the fae, and nearly missed her landing.

You did it, Ryoka. You did it!

Someone cried out. Durene. The half-Troll girl looked around for Ryoka, crying out in relief. She had not known all of the stakes, but she knew enough. IvoletheRyokas party. And the wounded friend.

She had worked so hard for this moment. And it had happened at last! She wanted to find Ryoka and hug her. She saw the young woman, standing at the edge of the party. Durene ran overand stopped.

It was true. This was the day. Or ratherevening and soon night. But it would be the grandest of parties. Three heads of the Five Families. The Summer Court. A hundred small miracles to make one grand one.

Everything she wanted. The Wind Runner had it now, the opportunity of a lifetime that might never come again. The third great party of the fae in this world in living memory.

And now they were here at last? Ryoka Griffin swayed on her bare feet. She was shuddering, dead white. Durene stared at her.

Why?

She did not understand. Ryoka had realized in that moment that she had not known what to expect. What form had she expected the fae to take? Honestly

A version of the Winter Sprites. Like Erins first party for the fae, where they had entered her inn and devoured her foods, in miniature form.

Not this. She had not been here for the second party, when the summer fae had arrived. She had not seen them and no one had spoken of it in that detail, thinking Ryoka knew.

But their appearances herewere far different than the Winter Faeries. And to Ryoka, they conjured half-forgotten horror.

They had only taken this form in front of her once.

She remembered a fire. Visitors on a Solstice day. Lost fingers.

Ryoka reflexively looked around. But saw noshadows. No mist. In fact, shadows were practically banished among the light, the sound

But it was this day. And for a moment, the Wind Runner felt it. This was a moment. A time when great goodor illcould occur.

She stirred herself after another second, realized Durene was there. Ryoka blinked. And the dark memory was gone. The glowing fae were like a beacon against the darkness. So long as they were hereno evil could intrude. No poison or treachery suffered!

So long as you were here. Ryoka walked forwards, into the gathering of the fae.

-

Across the world, the Blighted King, Othius IV, who had reigned for longer than most mortal men had been alive, even half-Elves, saw the grand ritual begin.

No great gathering had been assembled the second time. No hundreds of Rhirs finest nobility, warriors, and witnesses.

This ritual took place in secret. Far underground. In a vast, empty space cleared of everything except the magical circle.

To any student of magic, it was a strange conjuration. It had no reason to it. The magic circle itself was the most complex spell in existence. Undead servants and living [Mages] had labored without rest to draw the incredibly complex, minute patterns. Not a single part could be wrong. And yetthe circle had completed itself near the end. Repairing small mistakes.

That was already grand magic. And it frightened the [Mages] because they could neither understand it nor decipher any part of it. It was not magic as they knew it.

Secondthe ritual space had no base of power. Nor a perceivable target. Spells needed a source of power, just like fire needed fuel. This one?

Well, the Blighted King knew one source of power. He stood, impatiently, with only Nereshal beside him.

The room was empty. So empty it was frightening. He had not made this a grand occasion. This was like the first experiments, when they had tried to summon one. And, apparently, failed.

But the scale of this circle was ten times the last one. An exponentially greater ritual. It would deliver him his victory. Othius hands were slightly clammy. His regal garb askew; and no servants to correct it. He felt as though everything should be perfect for his triumph.

He would make do. The [King] raised a hand.

Begin.

It began with a sigh. There were only six people in the room besides the two onlookers. Six [Mages].

One of them was High Mage Laisa. Her hands still felt the biting pain. She still shuddered with memory of herinterrogation.

But her faith in the Blighted Kingdom had been restored. The demons must be destroyed. She had doubted, fled, become traitor with the other [High Mages]half of whom had disobeyed their king with her.

Yet after meeting His Majesty in person, she had realized the error of her ways. Laisa had seen reason and gone back to her work.

Still, the sigh escaped her lips. It was too late to stop. But she was afraid.

The [Mages] channeled their linked mana into the spell to activate it. Then? All they had to do was keep the connection. Opensomething.

The [High Mage] feared what would come next. She had felt it both times before. Atearing. Something opening she could not explain. This timeshe feared what would occur.

But for now, she simply stood. Feeling her power activate the ritual and it slowly begin to change something.

The Blighted King and Nereshal watched. After a while, they sat down. The one thing they had learned from the last ritual?

Bring chairs.

It took a long time.

-

Theyre here. Theyre here. Break out the drinks! The food! Entertainers, to the guest area! Rememberkeep everyone else out. Children, the folk of Riverfarmremember the rules!

Mister Prost and Lady Rie were directing people from the edge of the gathering. Riverfarms folk and the many from abroad stared at the giant ring where the mysterious visitors frolicked. The party was going on in Riverfarms streets. But clearlythere was an inner gathering as well.

Many people wanted to attend. But Beniar, the army, and the nobles escorts kept most back. It was for their safety.

And already, the gathering had begun to move past simply amazing intowondrous. Both foul and fair.

Dance with me, wont you, sir? Little lord of these lands?

A laughing, beautiful creature appeared in front of Lord Ranga. Mystified, he looked at the person; she had fins and gills.

Are you a Drowned Woman? Erthat is to say, Id be delighted, Miss?

Ranga! Im right here!

His wife slapped him. The [Lord] heard delighted laughter and the trickster fae leapt away. This time to go after his son! The younger [Lord] instantly took her hand and Ranga went after bothwhy, he couldnt say. His wife went after himuntil one of the other fae beseeched her for a dance.

The nobles were whirled into the crowd, forgetting their dignity as the fae asked for a dance, conversation, a partner to eat or laugh with. Not just the nobility; the bodyguards, servants, were singled out for reasons only the fae knew.

A few of the fae were clearly here to make the mortals suffer, if only with tricks and pranks like Lord Rangas family. Some meetings were darker.

Iknow you. Dont I?

Lord Tourants son stopped, abruptly. Brushed at his face. Then shuddered. The two laughing fae who had seized his arms giggled.

He stared at his missing fingers. Then at them.

You promised us such things, boy! Will you not fulfill your promise?

II did. But I misspoke.

They laughed, uncaring, tugging him fiercely. One whispered at him.

Yet you promised us. And we are not some mortal women. You promised us. Make good on your promise.

He shuddered again. But trailed after them. Part of his ear was missing too. And yethe was half-longing, half-terrified as he followed them into the shadows.

And some simplyodd.

Child! Ah, a child after so long!

A tall figure, nearly eight feet tall, bent down. His? Her? Face was long, closer to equine. Their legs seemed far longer than the rest of them, for that matter.

They squatted down as Eliasor stared up. The figure laughed and sat.

Little ones! Shall we play games? Show me your tricks! Play with me this game.

They pointed at the chess board and Grevs scam. The figure saw the children back away, even Grev, except for Eliasor.

Part of the [Lady] was wary. But she looked into the giant faes eyes and saw

Excuse me, sir. But do you wish to play games?

Yes. It has been too long since we have walked among the little ones. Tell me your grief, child. Thenabandon it.

Nothing but pure kindness shone there. The giant smiled and Eliasor burst into tears. She sat, and played a game as the fae listened. Thenforgot her sadness and began to laugh. The other children began to gather around and spoke of the saddest things they had felt.

The sadness produced tearsthen vanished. Then they laughed and the fae laughed too, in delight. They ate greedily from the tables, and ran about in delight.

Lady Zanthia watched the tall fae warily. No easy trust from her. As did the [Witches]. But the giant figure paid them no mind.

It took their grief like one of us. What is it? I cannot tell its speciesa half-Giant?

I do not know. If we must battle itdoes it have a grip upon the children, do you think, Eloise?

The [Witches] stood together. Agratha, Eloise, Mavika, Hedagit was Agratha who turned to Eloise and Oliyaya. The scarred [Witch] made an indecipherable sound.

There were [Witches] in this gathering, young and old. They had invited themselves to the nobles fancy. But like [Witches]the old had not forbidden the young, despite the danger. Agratha had wanted to. The others had overruled them.

This was a time of power. And the [Witches], even the young ones, were warier of the fae than the other mortals.

If we must do battleit would be unwise, sisters. But if we must, do not break the rules of hospitality. And that [Lady] will help us.

Zanthia was striding towards the tall fae, but somehow, never managing to get there. It was as if the children were a hundred miles away, and she never got closer no matter how fast she walked, despite one of them running past her. Zanthia stopped, bewildered.

And growing angrier.

Is it a thing of good or evil, then?

Mavika turned her head, almost astonished to hear the question coming from one of them. Hedag had asked. She had taken the worn executioners axe out and was studying the tall fae with bright eyes.

Wariness in the air.

Thenthe [Witches] saw something that made them all stir. Agrathas jaw dropped.

Impossible! It cant be! Its

The tall figure had fingers proportionally as long as its legs. As it sat cross-legged and Eliasor pondered her move, the [Witches] saw a long line ofgriefdraw from one finger to another. A line of thread.

Thread. The figures fingers moved, twisting the thread. Without perception of how, it grew longer, from a thin thread into a wider band of cloth. Widerlonger

The thread grew more complex. Weaving in, out. With different shades of grief. Some petty, some terribly hard to bear, like Eliasors. Before the [Lady] had made a move, the figure had created

A scarf. One with a pattern so complex that it almost hurt the eyes. Of soft blues, like that of the pine of blue spruce, shades of darkness like the shadows in caves, and fragments of gold; bright as a matchs first illumination in a dark room.

It spins like Belavierr!

Agratha cried out. Oliyaya just laughed and clapped her hands. Her voice was raw when she spoke.

No. Better. What creatures are these? The oldest! Did she learn from it?

The [Witches] saw Zanthia stumble forwards suddenly, and nearly kick over the chess board. She caught herself, and the oldest [Lady] present rounded on the tall creature.

Excuse me, sir or madam. But Lady Eliasor is my ward. I do not believe I taught her to converse so readily with strangers of your ilk.

Lady Zanthia. I was only

Eliasor started guiltily. Zanthia faced down the tall fae, clearly wary of its intentions. The [Witches] stirred. They did not want to test its strength; not after seeing it match Belavierrs Skill in a moment. And even she could not have taken that grief so easily!

For a moment, the tall fae regarded Zanthia without expression. Simplyjudging her. Then, the long features turned into a gentle smile. It reached out, andquite unbiddendraped the scarf around Zanthias neck.

There. You should have done better, mentor. Bear it this night and I will reward you your kindness.

It spoke, admonishingly. Eloise stirred herself. She saw the old lady stumble, as if the scarf weighed

All their grief, spun into that thing. Zanthia nearly sank to one knee. But the fae had not misjudged her. Her head rose and her hand half-touched the scarf. She looked at the fae, then at Eliasor, who was laughing as Grev, also smiling despite his loss, pointed out a move Erin had taught him.

Ah.

She looked at the fae. It held out a single finger, and Zanthia clasped it once. The thing smiled

They had an agreement. Zanthia turned away, as the children laughed. The [Lady]s chin rose, and she walked away, bearing the heavy scarf.

The [Witches] sighed in relief. And in truththey neednt have worried. Of the mortals here, the fae doted on the children. There were those who did not, of course.

But they were not welcome here. Andthere were rules. The watching warriors stopped the two trying to pull Lord Tourants son out of the bounds of the party.

But he promised! We have the right!

One of the colorful fae protested. Last time no one had stopped them! But this time?

Frost emanated from one of the dark visors. A hand reached out and winters chill covered the land for a second, despite the warmth of the evening, the bright fires. The fae balked; turned pale.

One was greater than the other two combined. Far more. It wasintensity. The two sprang away from the [Lord] who gasped in relief.

Fine! Curses upon you!

The other spat and scrabbled in the dirt to throw a clod of soil at the warrior. It bounced off. The visor turned; the fae fled with a scream.

Childish. Petty. Grand and mysterious. And that was one moment out of many. Each person found themselves talking to the fae, the center of their story for a night.

Ryoka Griffin felt it. Time was already strange here. She felt as if the fae had been thereas if some of those events had taken place before everyone had seen them here. Certainly, as she pushed forwards, shouting for attention, Lady Zanthia already wore the scarf as she summoned a pouting Eliasor to attend.

And Ryoka had shouted at once for everyone to listen to her. She waved her arms as people drew around her. Even some of the fae, wanting to listen. Ryoka looked around.

They were here! But where wasshe turned to a figure standing to attention.

Gamel, where is Laken?

The [Knight] blinked. Ryoka stared at him blankly, confused. He was always by Lakens side as a bodyguard! Gamel frowned at the oddity too. Then his brow cleared.

His Majesty is occupied.

Where?

Idont know.

Another frown. Ryoka stared at him. Laken was occupied? Okay. Well then.

She turned back as the [Witches] marched over, and Lord Tyrion and a dozen nobles walked into view. Then Ryokas head slowly turned back. Wait a sec.

Im sureLakenwould want to be here. Gamel.

The young mans eyes crossed. He opened and closed his mouth.

But he isoccupiedMiss Griffin. We should not bother him.

ButLaken was an [Emperor]. And didnt she need? Ryokas mind struggled for a moment, but there was nothing to struggle with. It was like trying to fight nothing.

Nothing at all. Yet surely hed want toto

Laken was not at the party of the fae. He was not here. He was occupied. Ryokas expression cleared at once.

Oh, of course he was. Well, the party would have to go on without the [Emperor]why, exactly?

She strained. But it slipped away. And then

-

Since only one person from Earth was at the party, Ryoka summoned Riverfarms people, the nobility, and everyone else in earshot. She repeated the rules they had been told; this time with emphasis.

Promise them nothing. Offer them nothing. Make no deals with them; theres nothing to be gained here. Any [Merchant] who wants to sell your waresif you want to wake up with a handful of flowers the next day, be my guest.

The listeners stirred. Some of the [Traders] hesitated. The fae were flashing gold and gemstones at them. Ryoka felt the dream-like quality herself.

Listen to me. Just dont give offense. Dont promise anything. Step out of this partygo to Riverfarm if you feel like youre getting sucked in. Beyond that? They have rules too.

She saw Lord Tourants son walking towards Riverfarm, abandoning the party. A few people joined him. She thought they might be the ones with the most sense. Ryoka felt like she was forgetting somethingbut there was nothing else she could say.

She eyed Lady Zanthia.

Their deals are seldom ones youd enjoy, milady. Youyou should take off that scarf.

The old [Lady] raised a hand to the thing around her neck, then shook her head. She fixed Ryoka with a stern eye.

I will not. Rather, young lady, it seems you are exaggerating. There are deals to be made for the better. But they carry their deal of risk. As do all trades.

Ryoka hesitated. That was true. It was justwith the fae, you really were dealing with the highest stakes. You couldnt renege, or negotiate.

Just be careful. Especially [Merchants]. You could lose all your goods if you try to sell them here.

I heard the flowers are worth something, though.

A [Trader] murmured. He was eying a heaping handful of gold one of the fae held out. The Wind Runner whirled.

How do you know that?

Erin had never told anyone! But the [Trader] just pointed at one of the fae.

They told me.

The giggling figures offering the fake gold laughed as Ryoka turned on them. They flitted away, like naughty children. Ryoka shook her head after a moment.

If they told you, then you know theyre tricking you! Dont be stupid! Youve been warned. Neither his Majesty nor I will recompense you.

The man hesitated. He eyed the gold longingly, then shook himself and stepped away. The fae cursed and hurled the gold at Ryoka. Some of the people went scattering, picking it up. Ryoka just shielded her face and swore back.

That hurt! Throw them elsewhere! I know what they are! Ow! Stop it! Why the hell do they hurt?

A sly voice in her ear. A tufted-ear fae winked at Ryoka and whispered with a voice unlike the others.

They are not flowers anymore, but pebbles. The Winter Court said there was too much value in flowers. Ah, what tricks mortals play!

Ryoka turned to the figure. His voice didnt have thatephemeral quality some of the others did. A different species? His eyes were like an animals. The pupilshe winked and bounded off.

It seems you have your visitors. Worthy of an [Emperor] indeed. Do you needassistance, Miss Griffin?

Lord Tyrion stiffly spoke. Ryoka turned; her cheeks bulged and she let out a laugh before she could help it.

The [Lord] had already been beset by the fae. Theyd put flowers in his hair, draped a garland of buds around his neck, and tossed petals all over him. Jericha kept removing them; but somehow there were more flowers and he looked like a bouquet.

Tyrion did not quite look like a statue, but he was certainly stiff with cold indignation. Ryoka covered another laugh.

Imsorry. Theyre tricksters, Lord Veltras. And I think

She looked around.

I think Im fine. I have to do this. Alone, I mean.

He nodded.

Simply call if you need aid. JerichaI will have a drink.

Yes, Lord Veltras!

The flustered woman hurried off after him. Ryoka watched the flower-bedecked [Lord] for a moment and wished she had time to see all the hilarity. Certainly, there was that, and great meetings afoot!

The nobilitys titles earned them little here. The fae mingled with them with cheery good humor, out for their own entertainment, some with agendas. Now Ryoka stared at them, trying to find reason in the chaos.

Searching for the one or ones she needed.

It was hard. They all looked like, well, folk. Humanoid in shape, lithe, ethereal, possessed of that quality of half-Elves, but not diluted.

Beyond that? Ryoka could pin them down neither by the color nor nature of their skin, nor anything else. Some had feathers, others horns. Some appeared covered in fur, but the thing wasshe couldnt be sure of anything. If she stared too close, her eyes unfocused. It was fine to take in the fae, but to try and ask what exact shape their ears were? That was when the mind seemed to untether itself.

Three of them were different, though. As Ryoka had observed; there was an intensity about them. That was how you determined their nature.

Some were as close to mortal as you got. Others seemed realer than reality. They drew the eye. They had the quality of power in every inch of them, such that you knew they were something.

It was like an aura. The figure who had given Zanthia the scarf was certainlymore vivid than two thirds of the rest.

But not the most intense. There were three of them, who were even more there than the seven warriors.

Three, seven. Magical numbers. It made sense too; three for three.

Each one different. One was male, flighty, graceful and ethereal, like the Summer Court. The other, female, dangerous, serpentine. The last? Tall, venerable, stationary.

That was the feeling Ryoka got from all three. She knewone of them was the one she sought.

She tried to get towards them. Walking through the crowd. But she had forgotten.

This night was not hers alone. And the fae had little interest in her, at least, most of them. Ryoka began to make her way after the three figures as they mingled, but people, meetings, events, got in her way. And each attracted the eye.

Ulva Terland was seated, her escort lamely trying to fend off a group of four fae guests who were ignoring them. None of them were willing to draw a weapon, and the Golems acted as if the fae werent there.

II am Ulva Terland. Please stop putting flowers in my hair.

The [Lady] protested weakly; the fae were planting beautiful blooms in her hair. Not like the nectar and sap-covered ones theyd besmirched Tyrion with. She was about to rise to get away when one caught her hand.

Dont go! Stay! Sit with us! We know grief! We know loss!

He beckoned her to sit. The others chorused agreement. Ulva hesitated.

But it is undignified. You are not nobility.

So? Sit and rest your burdens! We have dined with great kings and queens! You should bow to us!

They laughed. Perplexed, but feeling like she was in some pleasant daydream, Ulva sat. She would never have said such things normally. But this was no normal time.

Ryoka stumbled past the group, and heard the one who had beseeched Ulva first speak. She looked sideways and saw

An earnest face. Beautiful eyes and lips, focused on the [Lady] with real concern. Brushed features, as if carved by a master. A youthful countenance, swept hair so that the boy looked nothing past sixteen.

And then

The stone held the [Lady]s hand. Or perhapsshe held it. Nothing more than stone. No more artistry than what wind and time had given it. Ryoka stared at the thing made of pure, glowing jade and heard its voice in her head.

You are so sad, lady! The King of Goblins cut your heart in two, didnt he? And half your soul is lost. More than just a sister, she was, wasnt she? Half of you.

Lady Ulva started. She looked at the faethe young manthe jade beingwith wide eyes. She murmured.

Yes. H-how did you know? We were [Twin Virtues]. WeIve forgotten how to laugh. Im so afraid of death. Of oblivionshe is gone. And half of me

Put it aside. Eat. Dance! And be kinder to your children of metal and stone.

The figure assured her. It indicated the still War Golem. The lights in its gemstone eyes were flickering as another of thestone-fae hugged it, laughing. Ryoka walked past, wanting to turn back. But she could not, as Ulva was enticed back into the party.

A second exclamation, from the stage. The Players of Celum were performing now, and it was the performance of their lifetimes.

A Midsummers Night Dream. That was what Ryoka had assumed would be best. The [Actor] emerged onto the stage.

He was playing Puck. Unlike other performances where he was the lead actor, hed taken the pranksters role, having the talent for it. He emerged, laughing, the spirit of mischief on cue

How now, spirit! whither wander you?

Puck turned to the Fairy, Act II, Scene 1, and the Fairy turned to him. Instead of one of the [Actors], Wesle saw a laughing face. Actual wings. She danced around him, giggling and replying.

Over hill, over dale,

Thorough bush, thorough brier,

Over park, over pale,

Thorough flood, thorough fire,

I do wander everywhere!

Wesles jaw dropped. In the audience, both fae and [Actor] alike fell over themselves laughing. Wesle barely managed to reply as the faerie spoke her lines, perfectly. He stumbled forwards until the arrival of the Faerie King himself and found instead of Kilkran, it was a fae, the audience cheering and hooting at the representation of their king.

They were taking part! But with a twist. The Faerie King spoke his lines; the laughing fae had put antlers on his head, the props, and the costume.

Tarry, rash wanton: am not I thy lord?

Then his eyes gleamed, and the fae threw down the antlers and smashed them with one foot.

But I am not thy lord! Nor is this the King of Faeries! Enough! Begone with yon poor play! Give us other tales! But not this poor mimicry!

The other fae in the audience cheered and the Queen and Fairy tore off their costumes. Some of the fae cried out.

And give us parts! We want to be story and tale!

Yes, another story! Not this tripe!

They were good-natured. But their will implacable. Emme scrambled, and soon had a cast with one fourth fae, who strutted onto stage reciting their lines poorly and arguing with the crowd, and [Actors]. Two plays, in fact, so the fae could become actors of their own as they wished.

-

Ryoka breathed out hard when she saw that. That could have been horrible. Shed thought the fae approved of stories about them!

But not the Faerie King. His nameshe nearly spoke it aloud. Was it that name? Surely there was some truth to it. Perhaps if she uttered it

O

Every immortal head in forty paces turned suddenly. And the merriment ceased. Ryoka bit the word off on the tongue. She saw them staring. Then they relaxed and went back to their pastimes.

Dont say it, then.

On stage, the Battle for Invrisil, a cheap, Andel-written production that hed dashed off in half a day, was taking place. Fae were enjoying hurling daggers and attacking each other on stage. The audience was laughing at the slapstick as a more somber Othello played out on the grass on the second stage.

Fireworks overhead. Mage spells, rather. And the thing about mage spells was not only did they have the explosions, lights, and sound, but also smells. Ryoka smelled brimstone as a roaring Wyvern took flight, battling what might have been a Phoenix.

Ice and fire. She felt the cold and heat collide as people applauded below. Where were they?

There were too many people! Too many attractions! Ryoka kept catching sight of one of the three, but kept losing them.

Not just because of the crowds. It was how they moved. The fae had a grace no one, not even Thomast, or those with movement Skills, could match.

They flickered from spot to spot, whirling through the crowd, dancing as if they teleported. But it wasnt teleportation. Ryoka saw one go through a crowd of bodies clustered around a tray of jam tarts. It was so much of a press that even Sammial and Hethon couldnt squeeze through the gaps, and oh, the boys were trying.

Yet, somehow, the fae slipped through a gap between the bodies. Ryoka saw the figure twist, stepit looked so natural that Lord Rangas son tried it and slammed into the knot of people. As if you had never learned how to properly step sideways and if you only could, you could step through any crack in the world

Rangas son and the group went down in a sprawl and Sammial and Hethon grabbed two tarts and were away, savoring the blackberry sweets with delight. So did the fae, who had grabbed three and was gobbling them down greedily.

The trick had impressed the two boys. They stared up at the fae. Hethon was content to gobble, having listened to Ryokas rules and those by the [Emperor].

But Sammial?

Sammial was Sammy. And he pointed up at the guest.

What are you? Will you teach me how to do that?

He pointed at one of the cavorting fae, with long horns and a nearly nude upper torso andgoats hooves? She winked at him. She?

Ryoka paused, panting, having run after one of the three and stared at the Satyr. She bent down, cloven hooves dancing upon some brickwork.

I? I am me, little boy. I could teach you how to walk between the edges of things. It is not hard for us! But what will you give me if I do?

Fae bargains. Ryoka uneasily turned towards him. But then she saw the shining dancer whirl past and tried to jump after him. She failed; he was gone across the dance floor in an instant.

Hethon licked his jam-covered lips.

Sammy, I dont think this is a good idea.

Sammials brow wrinkled as he stared up at the horned woman.

Give you? My gratitude as a [Lord]. Or money? My father will pay you.

The Satyr blinked, took a bite of her jam tart, then sprayed crumbs as she laughed in his face.

Hah! Gratitude? Naught for naught, brat!

She turned away, losing interest at once. Sammy wiped spit and crumbs off his face. Then he got mad.

Dont turn away from me!

Or what? What will you do, little lord who speaks like a lion?

She mooned him, flicking up a tufted tail. Some of the other fae listening laughed themselves off their feet. Sammy turned bright red. Ryoka was hurrying back when she felt a familiar pressure.

Oh no. Sammy pointed at the Satyr and shouted.

You will teach me. I command it!

The aura touched the female Satyrand broke. Sammial stumbled backwards. Some of the watching nobility whistled. Pryde herself blinked as she turned, drink in hand, from talking with a faerie about gains in weight lifting.

It wasnt that the aura hadnt worked. It was that it had been blown away without effort. The Satyrs eyes narrowed. She drew herself up as Sammial stared at her. And her voice grew deeper, a flash of annoyance crossing her merry expression.

Command me? You are not my king or a king at all! I have danced in the courts of great kings of men. Go elsewhere with your trick, little boy. For youve offended my nature, demanding so. Not for the ransom of a Dragons hoard will I teach you, or ambrosia fit for

She hesitated. A word hovered in the air, unspoken. The other fae hissed softly around her and the Satyr caught herself.

for heroes and saints! Begone, bratling.

And she shoved him upon the chest, so hard, Sammial fell on his rear end. Doubtless it didnt really hurt, but he was up in a second.

How dare you!

Hethon tried to catch his brother, but Sammy darted forwards. Face red, he balled up a fist. The Satyr looked down and Sammy punched her in the leg.

The furry leg didnt so much as shift. The half-Goat fae didnt blink. And yetRyoka looked up as the mood around the young [Lord] shifted.

You have breached hospitality, little boy. That was unwise of you.

The Satyr slowly looked down. Sammy glared up at her. The glare slowly turned into uncertainty. And then

A touch of fear.

The Satyr smiled. It was not a kindly smile. Her teeth were very sharp.

A harsh buzzing filled the air, and some of the nobles and people of Riverfarm groaned aloud to hear it. They knew that sound.

The fae around her abandoned their refreshments. They turned, eyes gleaming, turninginsectile? Predatory, at least. Their enjoyments and whimsy and kindness were one side of a narrow coin. On the other?

Cruelty and the delight in such things lay. The Satyr reached down as Sammial backed up. Hethon tried to bar her way. Across the party, Lord Tyrion and Jericha turned. House Veltras guards stirred.

Stop.

The Satyr stopped. Ryoka Griffin, panting, touched her arm. Just a touch.

The fae woman turned.

You saw, windfriend. Did you not see him offend me twice, in word and then deed?

I saw.

Ryoka wanted to curse Sammial. Why was he here? They should have kept him in Riverfarm! But of course he was attracted to this inner party. She kept her gaze on the Satyr.

Hes just a boy. A rude one.

Then he should suffer for his tongue. I would only do that.

The Satyr tilted her head. Ryoka half-nodded.

He should. But his father wont take kindly to the lesson. Please

Sammial made an outraged noise, but quietly. Ryoka looked at the Satyr, thinking what could be done to prevent a fight. Because if someone drew their weapon, she was sure one of the warriors would intervene. And then someone would die.

What do you want me to do to repay his insult, Lady Satyr?

The faes eyes brightened. She looked at the Wind Runner, and then hugged Ryoka suddenly in delight. She smelled like, well, a goat, but not foul. Rather like a clean goat in a field of scented flowers. She smiled in delight, and then kissed Ryoka on the cheek.

You know me? You know me! I did not think one of your ilk would remember!

Of course. Satyrs. I uhBacchus? Or Dionysus, if you prefer. I didnt expect a Satyr to be heredo those words mean anything to you?

They do. But such things are not to be spoken of here. Well, someone remembers the stories!

Many people do.

The harsh buzzing faded. The Satyr smiled; but she had not forgotten the insult. She looked Ryoka up and down and then laughed.

For that, my anger is half appeased, little windfriend! If you wish to repay that boys offense, take it up!

She pointed at Sammial. Ryoka licked her lips.

How?

The Satyr rolled her eyes as if it were obvious. She pointed at Sammial, then herself.

Show me something I have never learned. Go on! Just as the boy demanded I do. Teach me something and I will forgo insult!

Ah.

Shit. Ryokas mind whirled. She hated faerie rules. Because you couldnt cheat like a Dragon. She doubted Pythagoras Theorem or some complex mathematical feat would be acceptable. Teriarch? It worked on him. The fae? Theyd probably beat her to death.

How about how to be shot three times by a crossbow bolt and survive? Ryoka felt an urge to laugh. But this was serious. The Satyr was smiling in that way that said Ryoka had to answer now. Or the consequences would be the consequences.

Ryoka looked around. Think. Stories? No, but the Satyr wanted something. How to bake something? Make a trebuchet?

No, no, no. How about martial arts? But thenRyoka doubted the Satyr didnt know how to kick someone. Her eyes roamed the still area of the party ground, searching for inspiration.

She alighted on something held by a [Lady] watching with a [Chevalier]. Lady Bethal slowly licked the cupcake as she watched the drama. The frosting was red. Also? Glowing.

Ryoka stared at it. That wasshe knew why the frosting was glowing.

Strongheart Sages Grass for a magical, glowing frosting. Some of the food, the recipes, had been supplied from Liscor. By an [Innkeeper] and her friends.

She should have been there. But she was not. Yetthis was why Ryoka was here.

It came to her in a moment. A memory, and the answer.

A memory of a little Gnoll, a farm.

A happy day.

Ryoka turned to the Satyr. Why was she wasting her time here? Because the fae were watching her. Even one of the three. Because it mattered. The party as a whole. This moment. Was it all a test?

The Satyr was smiling. She waited, expectantly. Perhaps waiting for Ryoka to fail. Some of the fae were, betting their fake gold against actual money with some of the nobility.

Ryoka smiled.

Very well, Lady Satyr. May I at least try again if I fail?

I suppose so. But you had better try.

She smiled at Ryoka. The Wind Runner took a few steps back and bowed.

Thank you. Thensomething even you have not seen before? A trick? Well, do you know how to do this?

She took a breath. And before she could worry about it, she performed a trick.

Or rather, tricking. The Wind Runner ran and leapt, calling on the air and memory. She launched off one leg. And her other leg carried her up and around in an entire rotation. The same trick that had delighted Ivolethe.

A cork. But the wind carried her up. Ryoka rotated, spinning nearly three times the normal rotation, and landed, nearly falling over, but saving the landing. Soa triple cork in the air? She spread her arms and turned to face the Satyr and audience.

The fae staredand then laughed. They applauded, shouting with delight.

Flew! She flew! Yet not a flip or a spin! What was that?

Oho! The girl flips and turns and twists just so! Do it again!

The Satyr herself was laughing with delight. She hopped, trying to imitate Ryoka, and then gave up.

A sight I have never seen! What trick of legs and acrobatics was that?

Is it new, then?

Yes, yes! Show me! What things you Humans come up with!

She pestered Ryoka, forgetting her fury in a moment. Ryoka showed her how shed stood and did it againminus the wind. The Satyr watched as Ryoka landedthen copied how Ryoka had stood.

She leapt and mimicked the Wind Runner exactly, cloven hooves and half-goat form twisting with amazing grace in the air. Ryokas jaw dropped as the Satyr landed.

Another!

The goat-fae demanded. Ryoka could have turned her down, but the Satyr and other fae wanted to see. And one of the three

Ryoka obliged. Hethon and Sammial saw their father and Jericha arrive at last, through the party. All four watched as Ryoka spun and leapt, in amazing ways! Ways Hethon had never imagined someone could move!

The fae were copying her. Some with greater or lesser dexterity. But the Satyr kept pace.

So did the Level 40 [Tumbler], who was copying Ryokas moves. Moves from another world. All three were laughing; then the [Tumbler] performed a trick where she did a fast summersault-into-handspring. Ryoka didnt even try that. You must have needed a Skill

Or a Satyr. The goat woman copied the trick and the [Tumbler] gawked. The fae laughed, applauding Ryoka. And all was well.

Sammial Veltras was scolded by his fatherthen Jerichaand then Hethon punched him on the arm. Then came Ryoka Griffin, panting.

Dont do that again. Ever.

She sat down for a second. The sullen [Lord] looked at her, glaring.

I am a [Lord] of House Veltras! She insulted me! I was defending my honor!

He was mad because he was right. His father always said to be a proud [Lord], but he was only angry now. Neither he nor Jericha had said more than Sammial was very foolish! The [Lord] was hopping mad and looking for Hethon to punch back.

Ryoka on the other hand just stared at Sammy blankly.

Youre a [Lord]? So what? She could have bitten half your face off before Jericha or your father did a thing, or kicked your skull out of your skin. Dont be stupid.

The boy hesitated. This was not how adults normally talked to him.

She wouldnt have done that.

Ryoka gave him a long look that said yes. She sighed, and wiped sweat off her brow as she pointed back at the Satyr.

Theyre more important than you are. More important than meor your father. You should be bowing to them. Think of it like that.

Sammys jaw dropped. He stared at the fae.

But theyre not! Are they?

Treat them like they are. Now, I saved you once. Im not going to be able to do it again. Either promise to behave, or Ill ask Jericha to lock you in one of Riverfarms houses.

She glared at him. Belatedly, Sammial realized she had done all that for him and remembered his manners.

Thank you for saving me, Miss Ryoka Griffin. I promise to behave.

He muttered sullenly. Ryoka smiled briefly. She rose and stretched out her legs.

Youre welcome. Do that again and Ill hit you.

But Im a [Lord] and youre a Runner!

Sammy protested. Ryoka stared at him again as if he had goats horns growing out of his head.

So? I have a hand, too. Everyone does. Remember that. If youre going to make people mad, youd better have Jericha, at least. Now, I have to go.

She trotted off with those words of wisdom in Sammials head. Hed never thought of it like that. He looked at Lady Bethal as she passed, laughing and wanting to try the tricks with Thomast, remembered the stories about her, and edged away.

Ryoka was panting after that moment. But she was glad shed been there. She doubted the Satyr would have been kind. And no kid deserved to be hurt.

Wellbut no. Not spanked, much less beaten. Or whatever the fae might have done. Sammy reminded her of herself. And if anyone had thought you could beat bad habits out of children, theyd have killed her long before anything changed.

People had done just that

Ryoka shook her head. Then she realizedshe was only a few steps away from one of her targets. The moment with Sammial and the Satyr had helped her, for the figure had stopped and looked back.

One of three. Ryoka stiffened. Her bare feet slowed upon the grass.

The eyes fixed her in place. Slitted pupils.

Depthless eyes. Ryoka felt like she was falling through the depths of them. Fallingfalling deeper. She cried out, but the sound was lost.

She fell, through the air. Into a liquid made of the eyes. Deeper.

The Wind Runner gasped as the eyes shifted away from her. And that had been just a look. She looked again and sawfor a momentan outline of something

And then it was gone. And all that remained was the guest. She looked different. It was hard to focus on her.

Because it was not entirely her. Just a reflection on the waters. The young woman realized it in a flash of understanding. The Satyr was real. But this?

For all that, Ryoka made out more details as she stumbled forwards. She wasa Drake? No, like a cross between a serpent and a Drake.

A long tail, a longer neckthose slitted eyes. And when she looked down at Ryoka, her scales were a mix of onyx and byzantium. Her scales shifted as Ryoka spoke and she turned.

Excuse meexcuse me. May I have a word?

Ryoka halted as the head swung down and around. The sounds of the party faded again as those eyesshe looked away, shuddering.

She could not meet the faes eyes. Noras the being spoke, was Ryoka sure it was one of the fae. The voice was low, sibilant. The purest tones ofof

It couldnt be.

Do you sspeak to me, little thing, to require an answer?

The serpentine woman spoke, sounding increasingly offended with each syllable. She glared at Ryoka and the young woman froze as a mouse before asnake.

II only wished to talk. To ask you

The serpentine woman snagged a roasted bird of some kind and bit itno, swallowed the entire thing. It might have been as large as a turkey, but it was gone in a bite. Again, Ryoka espied some kind of shape beyond this one. She flicked out a forked tongue.

My words are not worthless as yours. Give me a worthy sacrifice and I will answer you.

Sacrifice? I only wanted to

The woman turned her gaze on Ryoka, and the impression of her annoyance at Ryokas stupidity left a mark. Ryoka wavered and the haughty woman explained with a hiss of impatience.

This party is why I converse in polite words and deed. Were it not for that, I would say nothing else. For knowledge or favors, I require a worthy gift.

She knew Ryoka had a question for her. The Wind Runner hesitated. If she were to just ask about the weather or something, or how she was finding the food

The sky is clear. The light fading. I have known far greater dishes, but these amuse me. Worthless answers for worthless questions. Does it amuse you, mortal girl?

The two eyes bored into Ryokas head. Ryoka felt twin pinpricks of pain.

One of the Faerie Kings warriors stirred. At oncethe serpentine lady shifted her gaze away. Ryoka raised a trembling hand. Touched at twobloody divots on her flesh

Her eyes. Ryoka reached for a potion, though they were just surface cuts. She drank it, then backed up.

Okay. The Satyr was like the warm-up. The smallest of hurdles. This was the biggest of them. Rethink. Remember the rules

The Wind Runner approached the serpent again, as half the table of food disappeared into her mouth. The servers ran for the bags of holding with food, fleeing the guests approach. Ryoka herself felt like she wanted to peethen hide in a hole.

But there was no hole in the world where you could hide from her. The woman turned.

Well? Your gift?

She knew Ryoka had one. But perhaps refrained from peeking in order to be surprised. Ryoka offered her a shining handful of coins.

Will you take four hundred pieces of gold, milady?

That was her first try. The figure bent, her neck letting her head inspect the glittering gold. Her tongue flicked upthen she turned away.

An alloy.

Worth something nonetheless, milady.

Not to me.

A warning tone in her voice. Ryoka gulped.

Then how about?

This time, her handful made the glittering serpent eyes flick back in interest. Ryoka held what was worth less than four hundred goldbut purer.

Gemstones. A sapphire, two rubies, one glittering with inner magic, a topaza small orb of gold, and so on. Gemstones.

She had some, thanks to a certain Hobgoblin. But she had been holding onto them for thewell, other fae. However, this was the moment to use them.

Small.

That was all the serpent said at first. But her eyes were avaricious. Small or not, Pyrite had learned how to bring out a stones beauty. And small or not, she wanted them. Ryoka gulped, then made to put the stones away.

If you dont want them, milady

A hand caught hers. As swift asand implacable in its grip.

I did not say I did not want them.

The smile was, predictably, needle-sharp. The guest loomed over Ryoka. She looked over the Wind Runner and then grinned.

Sshall we play a game? The rules of hospitality shall be put aside for this. These are my conditions.

She indicated the handful.

Give me six, and I will answer one small question. Should you ask two, or what is worth more than your paltry gift, I will take what is owed.

And here the stakes rose. Ryoka gritted her teeth. She saw the armored warriors watching. But the serpent had just bypassed the rules of hospitality.

Wont you offer me an answer without a game, milady?

No. Accept my terms or naught at all.

She was smiling. It wasnt the worst bet. Ryoka licked her lips. Justjust be careful.

I accept.

Instantly, the woman plucked six tokens from Ryokas hands. The Wind Runner put them away as she motioned.

Ask, ask!

She refused to be rushed. Ryoka took a breath. A small question. Anymore and she forfeitedshe pondered her wording, and then went with it before she could lose her nerve.

Are you a member of the Faerie Kings court, one who could ask him for a favor?

The head regarded her. The lips twitched up.

No. I am not.

Ryoka hesitated. Then closed her lips. The serpentine woman came forwards.

Give me the rest and I will let you ask another question. Go on. Give them to me, the precious little things.

Ryoka did. They were snatched away. She was nearly scratched by a claw, but there were rules. And clearlythe woman had to hold to them. Ryoka took a breath. Small question

Thencan you help me with my quest?

This time, the serpent looked at Ryoka and her expression was gloating.

I cannot.

The Wind Runner looked at her. And the guest laughed in her face. Ryoka felt her heart sink. Then what are you?

What

Too late, she realized what she was doing and clamped her lips shut. The eyes flickered, and the woman looked slightly disappointed.

Dont you have another question for me?

Ryoka kept her lips shut. Of course she did. Hundreds. The first beingbut she would not ask. She took a shuddering breath, seeing the woman toying with the precious little baubles. It wasnt anything. Shed narrowed it down. Ryoka forced a smile onto her face.

Okay then. Thanks. Pleasure doing business with youenjoy the party. Please dont offer anyone else your deals. They do not understand, and thus it probably violates the rules of hospitality and the Faerie Kings laws against interfering with this world.

She gave the woman a beaming, false smile. It quite took the guest of the fae aback. She hesitated, narrowed her eyes, and glowered at Ryoka. The Wind Runner was already walking backwards, afraid to turn her back until she was well out of range. The other two

Wait. Dont you want to know what I am?

The woman addressed Ryoka. The young woman stopped. She smiled again, this time more genuinely.

Im fine. And the game is over, milady. I thank you for your answers.

The serpent lookedshe advanced.

But you do not know what I am. And you surely wish to know.

Ryoka did. She spoke honestly, from the heart.

Absolutely, Miss. However, I cant pay the forfeit of that knowledge, Im sure. I guess Ill live the rest of my life not knowing who I met. Or of your august nature, milady. Its a shame, but thats the way life goes. Ill take the question to my grave.

On a hunch, she turned her back and began to wander back into the party. Ryoka determinedly thoughtwhat a shame. Guess Ill never know. And no one else will either.

The figure blocked her path. The Drake-serpentno, the figure behind her spoke. And Ryoka heard the imperious flash in her voice.

I am a Wyrm, girl. Sikerival-Toreshio-Maresssui, or so it is in the plain, worthless tongue. I came for my half-kin who still walk this world. For this day of days, in this company. And for free food.

Her eyes caught Ryokas. And the Wind Runner fellfell

And landed in the same place. She looked up, and there, behind the Wyrm.

She was coiled upon the ground, upon herself. No wings! No legs! But a being that could not be compared to insects or pathetic little worms. Half of her was Draconicshe was no worm, no Wyvern! She was a

Wyrm.

Ryoka gaped up at her. And she looked around and realized; no one stood to the left or right of her, or behind. They kept their distance, as she moved around them. The woman bared her teeth and Ryokas soul quailed.

But. She had seen a Dragon. The Wind Runner held her position, though her knees shook. This was a Wyrm not born of this world. Of that she was certain. Slowly, she bowed.

I have met one of your kin, milady Sikerival.

I know.

The Wyrm hissed. Her real voice made Ryokas bones fidget in her body.

I had thought to meet him. But he is not here. A pity. Still. This company came only for the trivial pleasures of it. So too, I. You have your answers. I cannot help you with what you desire.

Ryoka nodded slowly. One of the other two, then. And she thought she knew which one. She began to back up

Sikeri slithered around her, uncoiling and moving so fast that Ryoka barely saw her appear from the other side. She was so vast that a single bite could have swallowed many Ryokas whole. And yet she was smaller in this placeand still her size.

Time and space. The Wyrm spoke again.

I also came for another reason. A prophecy. Dont you want to know what it is?Findd new stories at novelhall.com

Ryoka felt a prickle on her spine. She glanced up into those eyes againjerked her head away too late.

N-no. Im fine. Really. Id better get going, milady

She edged away. Again, the huge form moved. Encircling her. The head bent low. And the whisperthis time Ryokas entire body shuddered.

It involves you.

Ryokas head jerked. She stopped. Sikeri smiled once more. Ryoka saw a dancing tongue.

The others, they will not tell you it even exists. Let alone what it is. But I am not of the Faerie Kings court. Merely a guest in his realm. I could tell you what it is. For a price.

Why do I think I couldnt afford it, milady?

Ryoka looked around for an escape. But none came and no one else would budge Sikeri. The Wyrm bent lower, until she was but inches away with her real form from Ryokas face.

You can. And you would not suffer for it, believe me. All I want is a promise. A teensy promise for the future. It may never come to pass.

The young woman looked into one huge eye. And she began to lose herself in the depths again. Ryoka tried to pull away. But it was so hard

Just promise me. And I will tell you what was spoken of you.

Her voice was so enticing. Ryokas hand clenched. Something cold froze her skin. Pain woke her slightly. She spoke, in a trembling voice.

Great Wyrm SikeriI regret to say that you made one mistake.

Oh?

The serpent blinked. Ryoka stepped back.

Yes. Im very tempted. But someone already offered me the same kind of deal. And I refused her first. Take it up with Belavierr the Stitch Witch. As for meI refuse. By the right of hospitality, I ask that you leave me be!

The Wyrm recoiled, hissing in sudden fury.

You dare deny me?

She made such a sound that the party went silent. Ryoka fell to her knees, holding her ears. She saw the seven warriors move. But the Wyrm was so furious even they failed to intimidate her. She reared back

And stopped. The predatory fangs slowly retracted from their bared state. The giant serpent slowly uncoiled. She backed away further.

The second of the guests stood next to Ryoka. And he looked at the Wyrm and she slowly moved back. Not in complete fear, but warily. She hissed a curse and thenfled back to the buffet lines. Half of it vanished in a gulp, and the atmosphere calmed.

The warriors went back to their stations. Ryoka exhaled. She really needed to pee. But she looked up and

Saw him. Orit? The figure stooped. And like the one who had taken away the sorrow of the children, he was tall. But unlike that figuretaller still.

He put Moore to shame. He put the distant mountain to shame. He was taller than both, and with each step, he could have covered leagues.

And yet, Ryoka could look up at him without straining her neck. She was beginning to understand the trick of it. Representations. She looked up at the figure and he nodded to her.

I came for the children. It has been too long since they played at my feet. Too long since I saw mortal delights. A fine temptation, child. But you invite more than the fair folk to such gatherings.

He whispered. Ryoka heard his voice, like rustling. Like

She looked up, sensing more of his nature. Then she bowed. Unlike Sikeri, this personage only instilled the greatest wonder in her. Instinctive respect, not danger. She saw only time in his eyes, not a malevolent depth.

But he did look tired. And old. And a bit sad, for all he smiled. Ryoka heard him sigh. And againit was rustling.

Like a hundred thousand leaves blowing in the wind. And if she looked at his representation she thought his arms and legs looked gnarled. Likeroots

Again, she bowed. And if Nalthaliarstrelous had been here, surely he would have fallen to his knees.

Sir. Thank you. Thank you forthank you. May I ask?

The great boughs moved as somewhere high overhead, the figure shook its head. It spoke, and it was an it, for all Ryoka had thought he.

I am of the land beyond, winds friend, unlike the one who fled her lair and world past. But I do not have the ear of the King of Fae.

You meanyou cant help me?

Ryokas heart sank again. She looked at the figure and got a slow shake of the head once more.

Despair. And frustration. Ryoka looked around. The sun was setting! For all time was skewed here, it did pass. The one woman who could have made it stop

She was waiting for Ryoka. The Wind Runner looked around, gathering her resolve.

What if I said his name, then? Ob

Again. The power of the name filled her. And againshe was stopped. This time by a finger as gentle as the brush of a leaf.

Do not speak his name here. Lest you wish to invoke his power.

The personage spoke. Ryoka knew he was right. She sagged.

Im sorry. Butdo I?

The great tree shook its head again.

If you seek to defy his will, you do not.

He spoke ponderously, and yet, each word was so obvious it confirmed what Ryoka had half-known, or suspected. Reassuring. Yet stillshe looked up at him and did not mince words. They had not the time to hold a conversation at length, anyways.

Do you know about a prophecy with me in it?

Yes.

Will you tell me?

No.

That was his kind for you. Direct. And his denial felt like a lesser tree had fallen on her. Ryoka stumbled with the force of it and knew she could not ask again. She looked at him, seeking safety in his words.

What must I do, sir? Will you help me?

He thought for a moment. Perhaps an hour. Perhaps days, in that strange time they shared. How long did a tree take to think? That long, exactly. Then he bent down and spoke once more.

I tell you this because you are friend of the wind. And the wind and land are allies mine. I tell you this for what may be. I tell you for this day, and for the hospitality you have shown, for all you make merry upon the land cleared of my folk, upon the things made of our flesh and blood.

She shivered. She was glad he was not wrathful with her. And suddenlyevery bench, every wooden chair? She shuddered, but the hand was gentle as it touched her.

The quick-lived are cruel. I would not bear all the grudges against you here. Yet I will aid you for that reason.

His eyes were dark whorls in the trunk. His voice like the groaning of the trunk in the fiercest storm.

I tell you this because you aided the ones who were guardians of this land. I tell you this because you will repay it tenfold.

Neither kind nor unkind. He looked at Tyrion Veltras. Ryoka forced herself to nod.

I will. If I can.

She led him over to the [Lord]. The Lord of House Veltras had been watching her, she realized. Had he moved when Sikeri did? Or had he judged his opponent and known he would be wanting?

Lord Veltras? T-this is someone you should meet.

Ryoka shuddered as the figure loomed behind her. She looked up and realized

Im sorry. I dont even know your name.

The giant smiled. Lord Tyrion held out a hand, hesitating. The figure did not take it. But he did bend down and smile.

I am, in your tongue, Silver Pine.

Of course. Ryoka stared. His hair was the very color ofhis skin the exact shade ofbut was he all of them or?

Is that your name? Or your, uh

I am what I am.

That was all the tree said. He turned to Tyrion Veltras.

We shall speak of those under your care, mortal lord of this realm. My kin long left land for sea. I would not see one of the last forests suffer the same fate.

Of course. Sir.

Tyrion half-bowed, reflexively. He looked at Ryoka and she nodded to him in thanks. Not that either would have refused Silver Pine.

Satisfied, the figure turned to Ryoka and knelt. This time, he spoke directly to her. Payment, perhaps. A favor for a favor.

The others will never let you to him. You must bribe or beg or fight your way to the true representative of the Summer Court. All those lesser ones could never grant you what you desire.

He pointed. And there he was. The laughing figure who was of the Summer Court. Ryoka had always known it was him. But the tree spoke again, and she realized she had needed this too.

You will have to ask him in the old ways. Nothing less will suffice. And even thenyou will risk everything.

She looked up at him sharply. He nodded.

Will you help me with the words?

Yes.

She spoke, and listened to the rustling reply. And the evening began to turn to night. Time was passing. And the glowing figure at the center of the Summer Court laughed with his kin, dancing, making merry.

Waiting.

-

Luan Khumalo sat in the single scull.

The water was like glass. The waves, the oceanflat.

It was all there. The trees, the distant shore and Baleros jungles. But

Silent. Still. The [Bounty Hunters]? Nothing moved in their vessel.

The flash of a [Fireball] hung in the air. And yet time was passing. Time was passing. And still.

The sun had waned since this strangeness had come over the air.

It was all because of the figure.

He sat on the prow of the scull. It should have overturned the lightweight craft. But he weighed nothing. The still waters moved; ripples from his feet.

Luan was afraid. His oars rested, half in the water. His palms were sweaty.

He had forgotten what day it was. But he had not forgotten the last time.

The Winter Solstice. Only this timethings were different. It had not been this stillness last time. He had paddled through fog. Throughto meet someone who begged for

Youre not her.

That was all he said at last. He had sat there, perhaps for hours, refusing to speak. To even meethis eyes.

The man who sat there was an idea, to Luan, the longer he looked. More than just features; he was the very embodiment ofpassion. Passion, and love, and meetings.

To look at his smile was to want to talk to him forever. To stare into his eyes was to remember love lost and gained.

Luan wanted to like him. But his fear was a physical thing. He wanted to abandon his boat, to dance upon the waters. And he did not know why he wanted to do such things.

He remembered his family. And the stranger smiled.

No. I am not. Will you speak to me now, Luan?

How do you know my name?

Luan thought about raising the oars to strike the figure. But he did not. Could not. The dancing man smiled. Luan watched the ripples in the water. His skin pricked and goose bumps rose.

I know many things. I know you fear me. You need not, you know. Would you not take a drowning womans hand? For shame.

The [Rower] bristled.

I nearly did. I offered her my oar. But she wanted my hand. And the more I lookedthe warier I became. She was an old woman at first. Then a young one. Then in her middle years. She didnt climb onto my boat. She didnt take the oar. She wanted my hand.

And you did not offer it to her. Wise, perhaps. But wont you take mine?

The figure reached out. Luan leaned back, nearly overbalancing the scull. He righted himself; the figure did not lean over. Nor did he touch Luan, although they were close enough.

The man feared to fall into the waters. Just as much as he feared to touch the hand.

Something was down there.

Oh yes. And they are desperate. More than I. If you were to choose between the twochoose me.

I would rather you go into the waters and leave me alone. What are you?

The figure did not respond. He looked at Luan, disappointed.

I thought you would like me more than she. I tried to find you last time, you know. But we three went to the first instead and had nothing to offer her. You thoughyou are surely mine, arent you?

I have no idea what youre talking about. Im not anyones.

Luan countered. He licked his lips, staring into the water. Was itwhispering to him? Something down there wanted him to dive into it.

Touch me.

Yes, you are. You love your family.

Luans head rose. His eyes blazed. His golden tattoohe stared at it, and then at the figure.

Dont talk of them.

Why not? I know love. I know family. The love of a sister, a wife, a childthis is my domain. This is what I am. Love, friendship, passion. The arts are half mine, half his. I believe in art. Youwont you even consider it?

The truth ran in all of his words. Luan felt it. This man was joy in life. Experience; like when Luan had first felt that burning rush of adrenaline. The thrill of dancing with his wife.

All those things at once were in the hand he offered. And still. Luan refused to take it.

She said the exact same things. Onlyshe was like looking at

He shuddered. His grandmothers face had been hers. And he had forgotten how she had looked the day he laid her to rest.

Oh yes. She is for those who have lost love. As opposed to that which tends only to what is lost. Both are a poor match for you. After allyou havent lost anything. And yet you have.

My family.

Luans grip tightened on the paddle, and then he released it. Not a day went by that it didnt hurt. And he wanted it to hurt. He was terrified of forgetting.

The smiling figure nodded.

I could help you, you know. Soon, all will change. You will have need of allies. And I am far beyond any other.

No thanks. She said the exact same thing. Can you bring me my wife, my child? Not a false image. Can you help me be together with them again?

Silence. Luan spat into the water.

I thought so. My answer is the same. I do not care what you are. Devil. Demon. You wont take my soul. I deny you.

A sigh.

Such harshness. You do not even know what I am. But weall six of us would like you most of all.

Why me? How many more are you going after?

Paige. Daly! Geneva! Luan wanted to row back the way hed come. He had tothe figure laughed, lightly. Luan nearly laughed in reply. But he stopped himself.

You? You are the greatest of them all, Luan Khumalo! A champion of your world.

He gestured at Luan, who had been an athlete. The worlds best.

If only in your strange sport. Whyrowing? Why did you return to it?

Now the stranger seemed almostpeeved. He gestured around, at the still spell and [Bounty Hunters] on the water.

You could have been anything here. Why this?

Because Im good at this. The best. I dont want to be a [Warrior]. Or kill.

How disappointing.

Luan neither cared nor wanted the approval ofhe half-turned, looking for a way out. As he did, the oar slipped and began to sink into the water.

Cursing, Luan grabbed for it. He reached down

And stopped.

The grasping hand had nearly touched his. Slowlythe man placed the oar back on the scull. He looked visibly disappointed.

Tricks.

Luan whispered, through pale lips. He was sweating.

We are desperate. I am sorry. But I asked.

A small grin. Luan felt his skin trying to leave his body.

Go. Away. Please.

He whispered.

I will not take your hand. Ever.

For the longest time, the man regarded Luan. Searching him. Luan thought of his wife, the child he had yet to meet. He refused to move. To look it in the eyes.

Do you not wantpower?

The whisper at last. The figure looked towards the drifting sun. Time was running out. For which one? He turned to Luan.

You stand in another world, Luan. One with such great powers. Do you not wantan advantage? Strength beyond what anyone else could claim? A head start? More?

The athlete leaned on his paddles. He stared at the dancing man.

You meando I want to cheat? I believe in winning fairly.

But there are no rules. No competition. Others are born with advantages. Do you not want to win?

Not the way you would have me do it. I say it again: begone, monster.

Luan looked away. He feltwas that a wave coming? He gasped in relief.

But the eyes bored into his head. Now, the figure was angry. He rose, and stood upon the glassy surface. His feet began to sink into the water. Then his knees. His torso.

I have failed twice. I shall not return for you. Nor have I time left. You disappoint me.

He was up to his chest. Then his neck. Luan saw waves moving across the glassy ocean, towards him. He began to paddle towards it.

You will not take any of my friends, you damned thing.

He told the figure as its eyes stared up from the abyss below. Luan was not going to go out on the ocean for a month.

It was submerged in water, with the scraps of whatever lurked beneath. But both were fading. Going away. Luan was turning his scull when he heard the voice, through the water.

You make one mistake, Luan. You think there were rules to how we met. Rules for us. There are none.

Luan stared down. He heard the voice again.

You should have taken my hand.

The man turned. He cried out, a shout of mortal horror. How had he not seen? Had he been steered intohe tried to move left, or right. Then he r

The [Fireball] hit the scull dead on. The [Bounty Hunters], who had been firing left and right of the boat to drive it to shore, stopped shouting abruptly.

L-Luan?

The leader stared at the burning wreckage. For a body. But it had hit Luanhe turned to the others.

But it was going to miss! One second he was there and then

A mirage? W-we hit him, boss. We were only supposed to

The Lizardfolk stared at the wreckage. They waited for Luan to surface.

He did not. The leader turned.

Okay. We destroyed the boat! Thats what well say. No truth spellsgo, go!

They turned, paddling desperately for shore. Leaving the wreckage behind.

The others walked across the world. Searching. Searching for

A friend.

-

Or something more.

Liscor. The Summer Solstice was fading. The evening wore on, into night. But it would be a long day, still.

Lyonette du Marquin was weeping. She held Mrsha on Erins birthday. Selys was with them. Numbtongue huddled around, Bird, everyone squeezed into the private room in Timbor Parthians inn.

He had been kind enough to offer it for this day. They were all here.

It never occurred to them to go to the inn. Why would they stay?

They could not.

They had left this morning. So had the Workers. The staff.

The Wandering Inn was empty. Even Apista had left.

The only thing inside was a young woman. In a Garden. Lying frozen on the bier.

But she wasnt quite there, was she? As the light faded, something opened the front door of the inn at last. It peered inside.

It was a lost thing. It was of lost things.

It was lost. And as such, shethe body called to it.

My, oh my. You forgot something, didnt you? You lost it.

Your body.

The soul hung in a place between life and death. Separate. And where there were cracks

Anything could creep in.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, it crept around the inn. Searching the tables, the walls, the kitchen. Devouring hungrily the food. But searching. It was running out of time.

Where?

There. The door creaked as it clawed at it. Trying to find a way in. The cold iron, the solid door

Began to open. It could have held off armies and monsters. But not it. The figure was impatient. Desperate. They all were.

It had taken so long to find this place. Something had made it difficult. Almostobscuring things.

What?

The door to the [Garden of Sanctuary] opened further. And there it was.

A little, moldy loaf lying on the grass. Dark as could be. Imperfect.

It would have worked, too. How silly! The door strained against something. But the inexorable force opened it further. Even this incomplete thing would have worked.

But there it was. A shining token. Brighter than the darkness. It had been kept so well. A promise to meet again.

The glittering coin in the desk drawer.

It smiled.

And the door opened further. Just a little more.

You wouldnt mind it if you never came back, would you?

You would never find your way back. If you lost it.

A shadow, a memory, a thing crept into the garden at last. And looked up towards the hill. It crept forwards.

How sad. How terrible. There was no one here to say its name. No hand to take. But a body? A body would do.

The young woman lay on the top of the hill, surrounded by statues.

Tragedy. Despite all you did, look how you died, Erin Solstice.

You failed. You were not strong enough. Look. Youve fallen and now they were coming for you. All you wrought would wear away.

You have fallen.

But you are not alone.

The figure sat on the hilltop. His eyes were crimson. His skin was green. He looked down at the intruder.

The Goblin Lord sighed. Reiss rose. The figure stopped. A little ghost? It crept further, undeterred. It was more than a single ghost.

The ___ of the Forgotten, the First of the Lost, the Furthest Traveller, ________ ____

Stopped.

An army stood in front of him and the vessel. Their eyes glowed crimson. Their skin was green.

Goblins.

Headscratcher looked left, at Bugear. His eyes traced the gaps in their number. Statues. Ghosts floating in place where their representations in stone should be.

Grunter. Orangepoo. So many were missing statues, memorials. Because she had not known them. But where the statues were missingthe Goblins stood. Or sat. Grunter waved. Orangepoo nodded, slightly miffed that Headscratcher got a statue.

Bugear rubbed at his ears, disconcerted to find nothing there. He looked ahead. Spiderslicer checked his side. Eater of Spears looked ahead.

Reiss looked left. And Garen Redfang rested a clawed hand on his shoulder.

Why are we here?

He looked blankly at his brother. Reiss didnt know how to explain.

It was just a thought. If. If Shorthilt hadand Pyrite? Then perhapsthe Goblins looked down at the stranger in their midst.

Because you are needed. For one last fight. Brother.

The Goblin Lord rose. He took Garens shoulder. The Chieftain half shook his head.

We had one chance. Should not have a second.

He harrumphed, as if annoyed by the fact of existing. Reiss bared his teeth.

Dont be stupid. This

He pointed down at the shadow in the air.

Must stop it. It will steal her.

He looked at the young woman. Headscratcher knelt in front of her. He reached for her, gently. But his hands passed through her. He bowed his head. Then he looked up. His comrades clustered around him, so curious to see the strange Human.

Like flowers.

That was all Grunter said. The others nodded. Headscratcher looked up and wiped at his eyes. But there were no tears.

It is coming.

Reiss warned the others. The lost thing was coming up the hill. Garen reached for his side. But he had no sword.

Redscar took.

Spiderslicer. Garen grimaced.

Good.

Below them, the thing was angry. At the Goblins who stood in its way. Small and large! Cave Goblins, large Hobs. Redfangs, Flooded Plains Goblins. All those that Numbtongue had ever met or known.

Waiting for him. Those damned things.

Stubborn even in death. They did not remember the whole of it. But somehow, someway. They still fulfilled their oaths.

Brother. We must hold it back until this day ends.

Good thing its longest day.

Reiss half-laughed. Eater of Spears rumbled as it made a fist.

We have no weapons.

So? You dead. Still coward?

Spiderslicer poked him in the side. The big Goblin glared. But then he looked down.

Weapons useless anyways.

The Goblins nodded. They walked down the hill. The thing was coming up. But it would not reach her before the day ended.

They closed ranks. Something laughed. It advanced, looking down at the first little Goblin that blocked its way. A Cave Goblin, eyes filled with defiance. It reached down

And stood. The Goblins looked at the spot where nothing remained. Nothing. They listened to it. At how it laughed.

They did not budge. The figure advanced.

Brother. It is so good to see you again.

You too.

Reiss and Garen held hands as they formed a circle around Erin Solstice.

Waiting for the day to end.

-

Ryoka Griffin stood at the ending of the longest day of the year and felt the blade touch her neck. The warrior advanced on her. There was no mercy in the shadows of its visor.

Justintent. She turned to face it.

She had come too far to give up. Death? She would risk it again and again for a chance to bring her friend back.

The doorway waited, high overhead. When the sun set, Ryoka knewthe fae would drop her hands and it would vanish.

She saw the sword rise. And knew she could not dodge it. Not from this warrior. She made a fist with one hand, as Melidore laughed.

Challenge!

The voice rang out across the gathering. The warrior turned. The cold chill at her neck faded away. Ryoka Griffins head turned with the others.

And there they were. Two of them. Lady Bethal Walchas.

Thomast Veniral. He lifted the rapier in his hand and saluted the figure. It was he whod spoken.

What?

Melidore was incredulous. Soseeminglywas the warrior of winter. Lady Bethal was smiling.

He said, challenge, you pompous man. Or do your folk not know honor and duels? Leave Ryoka Griffin alone. My husband wishes to cross swords with your great warrior.

The fae gaped. Then they laughed and burst into applause. They screamed, shouted with delight.

A challenge?

He challenges the warrior of winter? He who rides with the Wild Hunt?

Let him! Challenge! Challenge!

They cheered Thomast as the warrior pivoted, bringing up the two-handed sword. Melidore was furious.

She defies the king!

Buthis words went unheard. The warrior had been challenged. Thomast looked past him, to Ryoka.

Go.

His lips formed the words. Ryoka stared at him. He was going to die! ButBethals gaze was firm.

Go. This is still under the rules of hospitality. Let it be a bout for the ages!

She cried out, setting her rules. Ryoka half-exhaled.

Melidore was even more furious. She turnedand nearly skewered herself on six more blades.

The other warriors! They were advancing on her! One walked towards Thomast, who had taken a ready stance, eyes locked on his target.

Six more. Each of a different nature. One seemed to hold a blade made of moonlightanother was Melidores burning nature. Ryoka saw someone interpose himself between the warrior of moonlight.

I challenge you, sir.

Lord Tyrion Veltras. He wore the Shield of House Veltras on one arm, his dueling sword on the other.

Milord Veltras!

Father!

That fool.

Ulva murmured as the second warrior halted. Lord Tyrion saluted his foe, and the figure did the same.

Tyrion did not need [Dangersense] to feel the scope of his opponent. His nerves were buzzing. Helike Thomastknew as the two lifted their blades.

They were outmatched.

-

The first cut was fast, a testing blow. Perfect. That was all Thomast thought as he stepped back, out of range. It wasnt that it had a Skill behind it. In facthis footwork Skill had carried him away.

And it was wrong. Thomast slowed. He flicked his blade and the winters warrior severed the wind magic with a flick of the sword. A riposteThomast stepped out of the way again. And againhalted.

Wrong. He saw the way the warrior moved. Perfection in every line. It was like half-Elves, and the peerless ability they developed over their unnatural lifespans.

Only, even more refined. An age this warrior had taken to perfect their craft. Thomast struck out, in a lunge and it was knocked aside.

What peerless skill.

He murmured. He moved to [Flicker Step]halted. The second attack nearly cost him his rapier and a freezing blade turned his arm numb. He cried outswitched arms. His left arm was dead.

Thomast! What are you doing!

Bethal cried out in horror. Thomast could have avoided it! But the [Chevalier] did not use [Flicker Onslaught]. [Double Cut], or any other Skill. He didnt even use a Skill as he brought up his sword, saluting the warrior again.

He could have. But it would have been wrong. To use a Skillin this moment, at this time? Thomast felt that it was cheating.

Somehow. Skills had been part of his life. But now, faced with true mastery of the blade, he was suddenly ashamed to have called himself a [Fencer]. He saluted the mysterious warrior.

Slowlythe winter fae did likewise. Thomast gritted his teeth. The coldBethal was haranguing him. But he had to keep the duel going. Stay wide of the range of that blade.

Give Ryoka Griffin time. He would have fallen by the third stroke, or the fifth. But Thomast had felt this once before.

When he had crossed swords with the Hobgoblin in the forest. He would not fall so quickly.

-

Lord Tyrion Veltras felt the exact same as Thomast in that first exchange of blows. If not for his Skills, he would have been cut!

And yet he did not abandon his Skills. The moonlight warrior struck again, blade flickeringhe cut from one side and his weapon appeared from the other! Unpredictable!

It was all that the [Lord] could do to stay on the defensive. He would have wished to match blades fairly, even if it meant his loss by the second stroke. But

Beyond him, Ryoka Griffin was backing up as two duels commenced. The fae were cheering, surrounding the two. Tyrion launched forwards. [Lancing Hydrastrike]!

The furious blows, eight in total, rained down on the other warriors shield. Tyrion felt like he couldnt have cut through the moonlight shield even if hed tried.

Cut through moonlight?

He was sweating as he circled. Hurry! Hurry, Wind Runner!

-

But five remained. Each one a sword at Ryoka Griffins throat, albeit from afar. If she moved, her head rolled.

Yet the two warriors had inspired the others.

Challenge!

Lord Pellmia roared at the same time half of the House of Els guards, Lord Gralton, and dozens others did likewise. Gamel, Durene, Ylawes, and his fatherif one fell, someone else would take up arms! Duel me! Duel

The warrior of summer walked past Lord Pellmia without even looking his way. The [Lord] faltered. His outstretched sword moved to block the faes path.

I said, duel me, sir! I challenge you t

The swords melted hilt wavered in his grasp. Pellmia went cross-eyed and recoiled. The summer fae did not even turn his helmeted head.

Hah! You think you can challenge one such as them so easily, mortal lord? Little man?

The fae laughed at Pellmia. He looked around, uncomprehending.

Few warriors true stand here. In this pathetic world, not enough know the dance of blade and bone and blood!

Melidore. And indeed, the other five warriors were ignoring the other calls to challenge. From the bodyguards, from the other nobles. Thomast and Tyrion, yes. But

Ylawes stared as one of the warriors, armor covered in leaves and vines, walked past him. He lowered his sword, hanging his head. Gralton failed to block another.

Even Ylawes? Ryoka looked around, heart pounding. One of them raised his sword, a thing made of chitin rather than metal as he neared, long steps striding forwards. Wings on his armor?

Enough. If you will not take their challenges, then I challenge you.

A female voice. The warrior halted. Turned his head. Then he lowered his sword. And slowly saluted

Lady Zanthia. And beside her, a figure with a transparent sword. He saluted as well, and they stepped forwards.

A gasp from the nobility.

[The Eternal Partner] met the faerie warriors advance smoothly, without fear of death. They traded blows as Lady Zanthia watched, a mixture of pride and sorrow on her face.

Four. Melidores smile turned to a scowl once more. He looked about, but every warrior in the House of El and House of Veltras had been refused. From Jericha to Lord Deilan to

Challenge. I challenge you.

The warrior of summerstopped. The fae looked down. And down.

Dawil?

Ylawes choked. Falene was staring. The Dwarf stroked his beard, looking up.

The summer fae walked past him. The Dwarf stuck out a footand the figure stepped over it.

Am I not good enough for you, kin?

The Dwarfs eyes were sharp. The helmeted head turned back. Then halted. The fiery blade turned. And the fae stopped laughing at the silly Dwarf.

Dawil had removed his axe. The [Axe Champion] lifted it.

Will you not honor this blade? Even you? It was made by the greatest smiths in any world. For me. Will you not cross blades with it?

Yes. The summer fae turned and the burning blade lifted. Dawil smiled and backed up.

Could use some spells, Falene.

And then there were three. Melidores eyes were blazing with fury.

Take her head!

Ryoka was running now, running the other way, the wind howling around her. Blow me up! She was looking for a table cloth! Forfor something to use! A parasail, a kite! Shed take someone throwing her up there!

A mile overhead. A damn mileshe stumbled.

No, one of the blades had cut her across the leg. She went down, clutching at her leg. She saw one of the warriors wielding a weapon likesound. It was the sound of a cut which had created the injury.

The swish of an axe through the air.

Dozens of voices cried out useless challenges. The sound of the blade met another sound in the air.

The clash of blades. The fae lowered its blade. Turned.

I challenge you.

Barelle the [Bard]s shortsword was in one hand, the magical harp in the other. The fae gasped. Ryoka stared. The [Bard] looked past the warrior and smiled at her.

Once more, it is time for [Bards] to shape the stories they tell for the better.

Two. Now the Summer Court was applauding, shouting.

Run, Wind Runner!

Run! Fly! Jump! Hop!

They were all clustering forwards, blocking the warriors way, tossing mud and drinks on them. How quickly they changed sides! The warriors moved forwards, undeterred.

And then someone spoke.

Challenge! Challenge for favors won and memory!

The sixth warrior stopped and spun. This time Melidore howled in fury.

It was the Satyr. Shed seized a branch, and swished the stick, still with leaves on it. She slapped the armor of one of the warriors and the blade cut the air, leaving the air wounded and howling. But the Satyr just dodged away, laughing merrily.

Stories. The fae applaudedbut no one else dared do the same. The last warrior advanced. And his armor was made of bone. His faceif it was a heinvisible behind the ivory bars covering it.

Ryoka Griffin faced him. She would never get into the air without getting past him. And no one else had challenged him.

A War Golem lumbered forwards. The bone warrior raised an axe and cut it in two. The Terlands gasped. It didnt even slow the figure one beat.

Ryoka looked around for a weapon. Her eyes alighted on

A piece of corn. Someone was offering it to her.

Um. Not the weapon I wanted.

She looked at the figure holding it. The man smiled.

I know. I have only ever tasted corn this good once before. Do you know my friend?

Ryokas eyes widened. She stared up at him. The magnificent armor he wore.

Lupp?

Thats him. Well then. I challenge you.

The man walked past Ryoka. And the warrior of bone put up his axe. He saluted, and the man saluted back. Ryoka stumbled back. Ulva Terland looked past the Wind Runner, at one of her bodyguards. Her escort.

They changed his name. Ryoka remembered Lupps words.

An unhappy [Farmer]. Grew beets. One day

Eldertuin Terland. I challenge you.

The Named Adventurer saluted his opponent. He carried a maceand a tower shield. He was nearly Durenes size!

Eldertuin the Fortress.

Eldert.

Lupps friend.

Corn! Corn and challenges! What disappointment! What delight! Hah!

The fae were hooting. Ryoka jumpedand went flying into a table. The wind was twisting. Dozens of fae were trying to make it throw heror helping and not helping.

She just had toRyoka yanked a tablecloth off a table, taking all the dishes with it. She threw it around herself. The wind blewshe went up

Enough!

The wind went still. Even it feared the voice. Ryoka landed in a heap. She got up, and Melidore was striding towards her.

He had a blade in hand.

Oh come on. You too?

She pointed at him. He bared his teeth as they glinted in the fading light.

You have offended me with your boon, Ryoka Griffin. Why should I not?

He lifted the sword. And Ryoka felt the wind forsake her. Despairing, she looked around.

Challenge.

Melidore blinked. He looked around. A young man was striding towards him, silver armor gleaming, sword and shield in hand.

Ylawes, no.

I challenge you, sir.

Me?

The fae looked amused. He pointed and Ryokas feet rooted themselves to the ground. She could not movecould not speak. It was just a gesture. Melidore swung around.

To a duel. Let her go.

The first of the guests thought about it. Then he shook his head.

No.

Again, the denial was like a blow. Ylawes caught himself, gritting his teeth. Melidore spread his hands.

Why should I match blades against a foe who cannot trouble me? I do not defend my honor, or seek the thrill of worthy foes. I only desire to humble Ryoka Griffin. So no. You have nothing to offer me, nor any other. Ryoka Griffin will not leave. Unless

His eyes brightened. And a terrible smile came over his face. The other fae seemed to understand what he was thinking. They clapped their hands, chortling.

The bet! The bet of the knight! The tale of green and hubris. Yes, yes!

They cheered Melidore, begging him to do it. He raised a hand and silence fell. Then he looked at Ylawes, the group behind him.

I will let any one of you strike me, and if I should not be able to reply, the mortal shall go. But if I stand the first blowI shall strike you. Until one or the other falls.

No. Ryoka strained to get free, but he was holding her in place. Someone had to beat him to free her! But thisYlawes eyes narrowed.

A blow for a blow?

You first. Whatever you wish. But be warned boyI will strike second.

Melidore flicked the blade carelessly. Ryoka strained to open her mouth. With all her willshe managed to turn her head.

Ylawes. Dont. Its a trap.

Even I can tell that, Ryoka.

The [Knight] shrugged uncertainly. But he didnt know. A variant of the Green Knights bet to Sir Gawain in Arthurian legend. Ryoka knew so many tales with the same premise.

Yet still, Ylawes nodded. The fae cheered and Melidore smiled. Ylawes looked at Ryoka, and then addressed the fae.

I will not hold back, sir. For I owe Miss Ryoka Griffin a debt of gratitude. And her errand is more important than your life.

You say so, silver knight? Then strike me.

Melidore taunted him. Ryoka groaned aloud.

No, Ylawes

Too late. The [Knight] advanced, dropping his shield, bringing his silver longsword up in a two-handed grip. Melidore raised his hands, not bothering to dodge or move. Waiting.

Ylawes!

The [Knight] uttered a Skill as his sword sliced through the air. Ryoka heard it. Heard the shout of horror from Yitton Byres and the others as they saw Ylawes

Cut through Melidore. Through arm, chest, torso! Out the other side!

Two severed arms dropped, one still holding the sword. The faes cheering stopped. A bloody torso and lower half fellRyoka stared.

Had the Green Knight survived that? Head, yes, but Ylawes had aimed for the arms. Try reattachingthe pieces lay on the grass.

Ylawes! What have you done!

Yitton tore free of Shallel and ran forwards in horror. He stared at Ylawes sick face. Ryoka realizedshe could move. She took a step. Was it possible?

Melidore laughed. Ryoka froze and Ylawes whirled. The fae stood behind him, brushing at the blood on his clothes.

Well done, boy! Timeless bravery! Timeless foolishness!

I

Ylawes paled. Then he dropped his sword.

Do as you will, then, sir. Only let Ryoka go.

Melidore looked at him. And those damned eyes were so cruel.

That was not agreed. My turn.

His sword, shining, like a beam of light in the evening, fell.

It cut Ylawes deep across the chest. Sliced his silver armor without slowing. Into flesh. Bone.

Ylawes stumbled. He stared down at his cut torso. He had taken countless blows in battle, perhaps even worse. But then he opened his mouth and screamed.

It was a shriek of pain. Yitton halted again, then ran as his son collapsed, howling, clutching at his wound. It sizzled and burned. Melidore flicked blood off his sword. Ylawes scream went on and onand even the fighting duels slowed and those listening flinched away from the sound.

The shriek went higherthen cut off. Ylawes lay, golden hair lying on the grass. Yitton reached for his son as Shallel fell to her knees.

Is he

He rose, reaching for his own hilt. Melidore spat at his feet. The spit ate away at the very ground. The fae turned.

I would not defy our kings orders. He is not dead. Fix him with your cheap tricks if you will. But he will not rise until the dawn. Next? I will not be so kind the more I swing my blade.

He smirked, swishing the weapon he held back and forth. Ylawes groanedbut the wound did heal as Shallel poured a potion on the wound. But he did not wake up.

And that had been kind? Ryoka stared at Melidore. The fae smirked at her.

At least Ylawes was not dead. But the voices of challenge had suddenly stopped. Even the bravest feared that scream. Andthey had all seen Ylawes cut Melidore in two. What were you supposed to do after that? Disintegrate him?

No one spoke as Ryoka saw the sun setting. Looking up at the gap in the sky.

Then, a shaky voice. Rumbling. Angered.

I will.

Melidores head turned in delight. Ryoka groaned aloud once more.

Durene. The [Paladin] had her club, and her door-shield. Metal armor, not yet customized to her, with an eye emblazoned on it.

She was not Ylawes, in perfect shining armor. The fae laughed aloud.

Half-child! The half-Troll challenges you, Melidore!

Brawn before brains!

Brawn without brains, to think she has a chance!

The fae thought so too. He smiled at Durene, like a distant uncle to a cousin.

Child, for kinship, I tell you do not try. I mean my every word.

Yeah? WellIm going to hit you.

Durene didnt have a snappy rebuttal. Melidore laughed and shook his head.

Durene

Ive got this, Ryoka.

Until one or the other falls! Well then, little one! Try

Durene didnt listen to Melidores words. She strode over and kicked him between the legs.

Ryoka saw Melidores feet leave the ground. Every male of every species winced at the blow. Melidore cried out. He doubled over

And then straightened. Laughing.

This world does entertain!

Durene blinked. But shed hit him harder than shed everthe fae shook his head at her.

You tried well, little one. With creativity. But did you think you could overturn stories so easily? Ahmy turn. Gentleness, for the mortal mingling as rare as yours.

He reached out and drew a cut along her chest, diagonally, down through her breasts to her navel. Cutting armor and her grey skin apart.

Durene screamed. Laken strode forwards and only his subjects held him back from Melidore. The fae laughed once, turned away as the half-Troll girl dropped her club, fell backwards, writhing in agony.

Ryoka closed her eyes as the scream went on and on and Durenes howl

Stopped. The girls fall backwards halted. Melidore turned. Durene had not fallen to the ground like Ylawes.

Someone was holding her up.

Steady. Steady, girl.

Hedag. Pryde. Wiskeria. Prost, Gamel, half a dozen others heaved and Durene stumbled back onto her feet, panting. Melidore stared at the place where he had cut

The armor fell apart. But underneath, Durenes skin was fresh. The scar remained. But it had closed in an instant.

Hedag lowered the potion in her huge hand. The [Witch] tipped her brown hat at Melidore.

Cheating!

One of the fae shouted furiously. Durene, panting, wiped sweat from her brow. Gamel and Beniar lifted the club back into her hand. She turned to the shouter.

No oneno one said I couldnt ask for help. Or use potions.

What? Ye art cheating! Youyou half-Troll cheater! Ugly! Ugly and

The fae made a sound as Laken looked at her. Melidore was glowering too. But Durene just bared her teeth at them.

Its only common sense. Youdid I hear it was a story? You should have brought a half-Troll to those stories. Now. My turn again.

Melidore stared. Uncomprehending, simply disbelieving.

That is not how the story goes. You cannot simplywai

The club hammered him into the ground. This timeRyoka thought it actually hit him.

The Green Knights fable broke. So too did the hold on her. The Wind Runner stumbled past the ranks of the fae, who were laughing their winged butts off at Melidore. A few looked like they wanted to stop Ryoka, or Durene.

Shes cheating. What is it with mortals and cheating stories in this world?

That makes it funnier. Shh! I want to see him suffer!

Melidore was getting up, wrath in his eyes. But Durene was banging on her door-shield.

You said it yourself! You cant kill me, or do anything that interferes! Go on! Strike me, little man.

Behind her, the Wind Runner ran. And she was laughing and running and leaping. The wind was dead! But please?

Please?

The party was in chaos. Seven duels! A challenge of strength! Durene cried out again and was healed. The fae were all about Ryoka. Some were watching, others trying to drag at Ryoka, keep her from entering. Others fought those that did, cheering Ryoka on.

Go! Fulfill prophecy, ye cheating cunt!

Do not! You disobey the rules! You will die! We will hunt you!

Go! Go! Fly! Show us you can!

Ryoka vaulted a table as someone bit her arm and took a chunk out. The buzzing was in her ears. She leapt

And fell. The wind. The wind.

Please? Come on. Just one time, cant things be easy?

She hit the ground. The fae laughed. The window above was closing. The fae holding it open was growing bored, her hands shifting as she watched Melidore raging, caught by the very story he had invoked.

Miss Ryoka Griffin! Do you need help?

A voice roared in her ears. Ryoka looked up

And saw a [Lord] sitting on a carpet. Lady Ieka Imarris and the first son of House Zolde hovered overhead.

On a flying carpet.

It seems you have a date with destiny, Ryoka. Come and

The fae shrieked and leapt at the carpet. Those with wings assailed the [Lord]. Ieka yelped and raised a glowing barrier. Ryoka looked up.

She was not alone. She had done all this with help! She ran, shoving fae aside. She jumped as if tricking and the Satyr laughed

She caught the outstretched hand. The [Lord] grinned as he hauled her upwards. Ryoka, Ieka, the carpet

Flew upwards towards the door in the sky. The hot, summers air, the sweat, the cold fear running down Ryokas back fell away. She felt Ieka hauling her onto the carpet.

Below, the fae pursued, but even they were too slow to match the dizzying rate of ascent. The party dropped away below them.

House Zolde owes you a debt! My brother and I will take you to this wondrous place!

The [Lord] pointed. Past Ryoka, she saw a second carpet blocking the fae. She looked at the [Lord]. Memory stirred. But it wasnt him. It was the other

You helped me twice. Thank you.

It is our honor. To the skies!

He roared. Ryoka looked at Ieka and the [Mage Lady] laughed. Up! Higher and higher, towards that glowing door. Beyond it, Ryoka could see distant skies. Were thoseflowers on the other side? Beautiful blooms? She reached out, and Ieka and the [Lord] did likewise.

They were so close. Ryoka poised to leap and Ieka did likewise. Ryoka saw the night sky, stars beginning to shine amid the fading blood red light.

And thena color more vivid than midnight. Onyx and byzantium. A scale, larger than Ryoka was tall.

A vast, rearing body. A serpentine head. As large as

Sikeri the Wyrm reared up. Highhigher. Ryoka, Ieka, the [Lord] and the carpet were tiny before her. She hissed. And her smile was terrible.

No.

You should not have spurned me.

The great maw opened. The carpet swervedRyoka felt a lurch. Saw the head striking down

Sikeri tore the carpet in two. The three fell to earth.

Ryoka Griffin fell. She heard Ieka screaming a desperate spell

And the wind caught them. A foot from earth, she stopped in the air and then dropped the last foot. She heard the fae, shouting insults at Sikeri, laughing.

The Wyrm was gone. The representative of Sikeri smugly tossed the torn carpet down. Ryoka looked up at her as the wind went dead.

You will replace that, Sikerival.

Melidores eyes flashed. The Wyrm quailed, but her sidelong look was triumphant. It was the fae who had caught the three plummeting mortals with the wind.

My carpet?

The [Lord] stared at his broken artifact. Sikeri was glowering even as she seemed to hunt around in her pockets. Ieka just sat up, looked at all the way theyd fallen, and vomited onto the ground.

Ryoka stared at the spewing lady. At the smug Wyrm. She looked up.

The door was closing. Tears sprang into her eyes. She couldnt help it.

Youyouyou suck.

There werent words in any language for how much she hated Sikeri at that moment. The Wyrm was triumphant. Ryoka looked around. All of that! All of it for what?

Theyd all fought so hard. But Dawil was lying on the ground, groaning. Thomast had dropped his sundered blade. Two of the warriors turned towards her, and Durene was at her limit.

Done. Done. So many people! So many moments! For this? Did it not matter? Why hadnt he helped? Silver Pine just watched Ryoka.

When I needed you most, why didnt you help? I cant beat that alone! Thatthat snake bitch!

Ryoka pointed at Sikeri. The serpentine lady hissed back at her. It wasnt fair! It was never fair! It was wrong to think the fae gave chances.

The Wind Runner stared up at the mile-high door to the land of the fae. Tears running down her cheeks. She looked at the closing doorway, the fae holding it open. At Silver Pines who had not helped.

Her tearsslowed. Sikeris triumphant grin wavered. Melidore turned.

Ryoka Griffins legs began to move. She began to run. The two warriors burst into a run of their own. But the barefoot runner ran. Sprinted forwards. She passed Sikeri, who reached out

And Silver Pine caught her. Ryoka ran. Shoving fae aside. Punching one as she jumped. Hearing the laughter of the Satyr. Cheers.

Towards the fae holding the gateway. Just two hands pressed together in a rectangle, moving apart as the last rays of sun faded. The fae grinned.

Ryokas head turned. She looked at Melidore, straight in the eyes. Then around at the wondrous fae, the immortals.

You all really suck.

The Wind Runner leapt for the true doorway. The warriors grabbed for her, and Melidores howl split the world for a second.

But too late. The faerie yanked her hands apart. The guests of the party, Laken Godart, Tyrion Veltras, panting, Durene, Silver Pine, the fae, Ieka, Bethaleveryone turned.

Ryoka Griffin was gone.

-

It was done. The cheering that erupted afterwards was matched only by the roar of fury from Melidore and Sikeri. But it was done!

She had entered another world! The exuberance of the guests was blown away by the faes response. They went practically mad, screaming and dancing and shouting.

She did it! After so long! A mortal has done it!

The fae cartwheeled and leapt, overturning tables, laughing, crying out. They celebrated Ryokas triumph!

The sun set. Tyrion Veltras, panting, realized his opponent had lowered his blade. He stared at the cuts on the Shield of House Veltras. Felt his arm burning.

But Ryoka was gone. He had helped her, at last, truly. He only hoped there was a way back. He had no idea what lay beyond. What perils she might endure.

Yet this longest day ended in triumph. In hope! Tyrion straightened as his sons ran towards him, shouting in awe, pointing at where Ryoka had been.

Father! Father! Did you see? It was just the fingers! Like this!

Sammial was trying to copy the gesture, as if to open a doorway of his own. Tyrion was smiling. It was a victory! He knelt, hesitating, thinking to embrace them.

It was a good party. A good day.

Thisday.

This day.

The laughing faces slowly drained of excitement. The applause, the cheeringwere sucked away. The merriment, even the fury, turned to nothingness.

The fae and mortals turned about. Laken Godart opened his eyes in horror and his head turned. Even he saw them.

Four people stepped forwards, towards the boundary of the faes party. Four, not six.

To see them was never to forget them. Each one was different.

One was young, in the prime of life, bounding, restless, a huntress, a champion of causes. In her was the spirit to fight for all things. Youth and glory.

Another was old and young and all things in between. She walked and the world died and was born around her. She commanded such things, and she was terrible and lovely.

The third danced and belonged here, in merriment and love and all things of passion. He was friendship and companions and love and trust.

The last stood proudest of them all. In his gaze was the will to command legions, to use lives. To look at him was to give him the authority over all things, to lead you to

Dead silence. The four stopped, at some invisible boundary. Behind them? Night had fallen. But even night had been swallowed by a blackness darker still.

Shadows moved around the boundary of the party. Riverfarm was gone, as if it never was. Only this circle of space. This party.

Silence. The fae were frozen. And feartrue fearcrossed their faces. Silence, until the bearded figure spoke.

Greetings on this shortest night. Is there no room for we four around your fire? Will you not ask us to join you, on this day?

His voice was real and not real. Tyrion ached to tear his ears off rather than hear it. Yet he was enticed nonetheless. He was frozen as the old woman came forwards.

Yes. We should be six. But two of us have business of our own. Friends. Dear friends. Will you not speak our names?

She addressed the fae. They stared at the four. Things moved in the shadows, at the edges of the circle of light and life. Tyrion heard a murmur. And thena hiss.

Begone.

One of the fae spoke that. Which one? No one could tell. Then another spoke.

Begone, nothing. Nothing is here. Do you see anything, kin?

Nothing. Nothing. Begone, nothing.

They all took up the chant. It was a susurration, low voices. Growing louder, louder. All of themSilver Pines, Melidore, Sikeri, the Satyrthey whispered it.

Begone. Begone. Be-gone. Be-gone. Be-gone, be-gone, be-gone, be-gone, be-gone, be-gone, be-gone, be-gone, be-gone, be-gone, be-gone, be-gone, be-gone, be-gone, be-gone, be-gone, be-gone

The four sighed. They began to move forwards, pressing against something, ignoring the whispers. Reaching out to the mortal folk, as if asking them to

Remember. Tyrion shuddered. He almost heard the voice. Remember. Say it.

Say what? He did not know. But on the four came. The fae began to chant louder.

Begone. Yet the darkness closed in. Longing forlonging to be

Remembered.

-

She leapt for the open gap between the fingers. Into that little bit of space.

And the world shifted around her. Ryoka did not hit the fae womans chest. She flew, into that tiny gap, into a point in the world so tiny you could never measure it.

Into an infinity beyond. Ryokas cry was one long, endless thing. And short as a breath.

She saw, in that fragment of reality, countless visions. Her mind recoiled from understanding. She was screaming, falling, flying

And then she landed. Forgetting the aeon she had spent in between almost as she touched the ground.

Part of her never would forget. Never could. And yetRyokas breath left her. She hit the ground with a thud.

It didnt hurt. She felt strange. Strange in her body. Strange in her skin.

Strange in the air. The world around her was changed. Ryoka felt it in the breaths she took. She scrambled upwards.

And there she was. In the world of the fae. She stood on a vast hilltop. And behind her were standing stones. An ancient construction of stone amid grass.

Forming a gate. It shone behind her. Ryoka looked around and saw more hilltops.

Hundreds.

Thousands.

Beyond millions.

And on this hill, flowers of every shape and size. A profusion without end. Ryoka inhaled their fragrance. Her eyes hurt so much to see them all at once she closed them.

Tears ran down her face, and she did not know why. The skythe land! She looked around.

The land of the fae. The sun shone brightly here, high overhead. Ryoka looked around. She breathed. Or thought she breathed. She touched at the grass, wondrously. Then she called out.

It had been so long. Her voice trembled in the air.

Ivolethe?

She strained her ears to hear. But there was nothing and no one on this hill. Just the grass, the stones, and the blooms. Ryokas tears ran down her cheeks, from exhaustion, from relief, uncertainty and sorrow and reasons she did not yet know.

Then the wind blew from far away. It came countless leagues. Tugging at her sleeves, gently touching her cheeks. Blowing her tears away. And Ryoka heard it at last.

Her friends voice.

Ryoka.

Authors Note: The last chapter will be the end of Volume 7 if all goes according to plan. But I dont know if it will be on Tuesday, next update. If it appears, all well and good.

If not? Ill be working on it. Making sure it has everything. There is so muchand yet it will be done! Just be warned.

One more chapter. Or two. I dunno, things can go wrong. But you can feel it too.

And entire years worth of writing has gone into Volume 7. I am tired. I will be taking two weeks break at least after the end of Volume 7. I need two weeks, at least. My only desire is to make this as good as it needs to be! But we will see next chapter.

For today, Ill leave you with that and some art. Thank you for reading.

One more chapter. Or two.

Todays artist has the most fitting art. Dr.Replig8r, andwell, scary stuff. Even Gazi. Much love to them for the art!

Meetings and Fire and Foes by Dr.Replig8