The Fall

The Fall

The alternating blasts of frigid and heated air were the only warning received before the fae royals swept into the throne room followed closely by their entourage. Ulin, king of Athar, rose from his seat to acknowledge them.

“And to what do I owe the honor—”

The king’s greeting died on his lips as he noticed the grim expressions worn by the monarchs. It was also noted their entourage this time was not made up of its usual members but that of armored knights. This was no social call. The King’s Own, four of which stood at posts surrounding the throne tensed, while their captain, whom the king had just been speaking to, took up a casual position to the king’s right side and let his hand drop to the hilt of his blade.

The raven-haired queen, Theita, of the Winter Court gave the captain and his men a dismissive glance before addressing the king.

“The treaty has been violated, King Ulin.”

Beside her the fair-haired, Iliana, of the Summer Court remained silent but nodded her agreement.

“By whom?” Ulin asked with a frown.

“Your son,” Theita’s lips twitched in a barely concealed sneer. “Tyar.”

Her anger was a palpable thing as the temperature dropped significantly. King Ulin suppressed a shiver while his breath frosted the air in front of him.

“And the violation is to such a degree that you come before me with a contingent of your own army at your heels?”

“We wish only to discuss the matter at present, Your Majesty,” Iliana said spreading her hands in a placating gesture while she shot her counterpart a sharp look. “The knights accompanied us by the insistence of the Winter queen. I am confident we can reach an agreement regarding the issue and the use of force will not be required.” She gave Theita another pointed look. “By either side.”

“What are the prince’s transgressions?” asked the captain.

“They are many,” Iliana said quietly. “But the most grievous of them specifically, not even a fortnight past, he along with the heads of each of the Noble Houses of Athar attempted a coup with the intent to destroy us using the very gifts we blessed you with. They launched simultaneous assaults on both of our courts.”

“They failed.” Theita said.

The fair-haired queen gave Theita a sidelong glance before continuing. “We need not remind you of the terms of our agreement. We bestowed magic to your people with strict guidelines to govern its use—”

“And now you dare to turn against us,” Theita said, her tone cold. She smiled ever so slightly, gaze fixed on the king. “The abuse of power has been ignored for far too long and you have turned a blind eye to your son’s actions. We will no longer sit idle.”

“You dare threaten the king?” The captain spat.

The Winter Queen’s eyes took on a faint blue glow as her gaze shifted from the king and the temperature dipped lower still.

“I suggest you guard your tongue, Captain, I do not make threats, only promises.” Theita said with warning and smirked when the captain took a deliberate step in her direction. Ulin placed a restraining hand on Joren’s shoulder. He shrugged it off but remained standing where he was, his jaw clenching. He shot the winter queen a look of contempt.

“We had hoped, Your Majesty, that an agreement could be made without further incident,” Iliana spoke up again and shot Theita a meaningful look obviously trying to maintain some semblance of order.

“What sort of agreement?”

“A relinquishment of power.”

The king gaped at the queens. “You can’t be serious.”

“You have left us with no other choice. It has become painfully clear that your people cannot be trusted with such abilities.” Iliana said.

“You would strip us of what has defined us as a kingdom? You have no right!” Ulin sputtered.

We have every right!” Theita snapped. The brightness of her eyes flared and frost began to spread along the stone floor from where the winter queen stood. “You have brought this down upon yourselves.”

You planned this!” Sir Joren snarled drawing his weapon free. The King’s Own drew their blades as well.

Theita gave the captain and his men a bitter smile. “Place blame where you wish. The fact remains that the accords have been broken by one of your own and there will be repercussions.”

“You have one last chance,” Iliana interjected, stepping forward and holding out her hands, casting Theita a pleading glance. “This need not escalate any further. I give you my word that if you surrender your son and his supporters to us now then we will withdraw peacefully and seal our borders to your kingdom.”

The king’s gaze narrowed. “No.”

A thin layer of ice began to glaze the steps to the throne and climb the walls. “Don’t be a fool Ulin!” Theita hissed.

Iliana placed a restraining hand upon Theita’s arm and shook her head slightly. Theita shot her a scathing glance but reigned in her temper slightly. The king addressed the Summer queen.

“I am not rejecting your proposal as of yet. I simply wish to be allowed to confirm the validity of the charges being leveled against Tyar before—”

“We cannot allow that,” Theita countered in a tightly controlled voice.

“On what grounds?” Sir Joren asked.

“It has been whispered, Your Majesty,” Iliana replied carefully. “That you have known and in fact supported your son’s actions all along.”

Theita gave the king a predatory smile. “My, my, that would make you just as guilty…”

Rage colored the king’s cheeks and in one fluid motion he had drawn his own blade. “Get.Out.

“King Ulin, you must understand, we cannot take such risks and are only acting with everyone’s best interests in mind.” Iliana said. “We are doing what we must to ensure the safety of all our kingdoms.”

“I will not stand here and be falsely accused,” The king snapped. “If you will not allow me the time I need to address my son and to make a decision regarding what will affect my entire kingdom then there is nothing else that needs to be addressed here.”

“You are refusing to cooperate then?” Iliana asked.

Ulin’s gaze narrowed, hands clenching at his sides as small arches of lightning formed around his fists.

“I am.”

“Then we will take what is ours by force.” Theita replied with a dark smile.

The blue glow of the Winter Queen’s eyes brightened and spread to surround her as a spear of ice formed in her grasp. Beside her Iliana spoke a soft word and a silvery long sword appeared in her hand, power rippling from it like a heat wave. A chorus of crystal sang behind them as the fae knights drew their own weapons.

Without a word Theita leveled the spear in the king’s direction unleashing a barrage of dagger-like shards of ice and the fae knights rushed forward.

*****

“What you are proposing, Prince Tyar, is suicide.” The elderly man who spoke rose from his chair and stabbed a finger in his host’s direction. “Your coup has failed; your men were forced to retreat. They very nearly died in the attempt!”

“Don’t you mean our men, Lord Kulthain?” Tyar replied with a cold smile. “Or have you already forgotten that your men stood alongside my own as well as the rest who are seated here at this table?”

Kulthain grimaced, did not reply, and instead sank back into his seat. An uncomfortable silence stretched for several minutes while the eight men around the table shared measured looks.

“Contrary to what you all may be thinking this new venture has several advantages over the old.”

The prince stood up to gesture to the plans that lay spread across the table. “Besides these revised tactical arrangements we also have a new weapon. One those pointy-eared bastards will not be expecting, that can actually hurt them. The time has come to prove who the true gods of this realm are.”

“Pray tell how exactly do you plan to do that, princeling?”

The men around the table startled at the sound of the new voice and looked in the direction from which it had come to see a man step out of the shadows who had not been there just moments before. The torchlight played across the midnight blue velvet tunic he wore and set the silver crescent moon brooch that secured his cloak in place to glittering. Black pants and boots matched the thin black bladed sword he held loosely at his side. Elegant pointed ears proclaimed his heritage. He gave the men a chilling smile and held up a hand as they scrambled to get to their feet and draw weapons at the same time. Every single one of them effectively froze in place at his gesture. The fae’s smile widened.

“Please don’t get up on my account.”

*****

Kieran sighed in irritation when the flames of the hearth behind him froze solid. He snapped the spell book he had been reading shut and looked up from his desk to the man who stood across the room just in front of the large oval mirror that adorned the wall. He intended to berate the intruder for interrupting his work but instead choked on the scathing rebuke, eyes widening at the sight of the fae covered in blood and the thin black-bladed long sword he held. Kieran slowly stood up from his chair while his gaze remained fixed on the man. The fae gave Kieran a patronizingly cold smile.

“I know what you’re thinking, what could I possibly be doing here?” His smile widened marginally, his ice blue eyes glimmered with barely contained glee and something a bit more sinister.

“I know it isn’t for simple pleasantries,” Kieran replied and tilted his head giving the blood spattered clothing and bloodied sword a long look. “What happened?”

The fae glanced down at himself, seemingly unconcerned at the state of his person, and then shrugged giving Kieran another smug smile. “The result of your brother’s failure,” he said as if that explained things.

Kieran froze for but a moment at the declaration and then glanced toward the door before meeting the fae’s gaze steadily. He casually let his left hand drop to the rune inscribed rod that hung from his belt, a move, he knew, the fae did not miss.

“He’s dead then?”

“I had been commanded to clean up the mess that your brother so kindly left in the wake of his pitiful coup, yes,” The fae acknowledged with a nod.

“And you’re here to kill me now, is that it?”

The fae grinned. “While that thought is entertaining, no, that is not the reason I sought you out.”

“What do you want Cirs?”

Cirs wiped the blood from his blade before returning it to its sheath.

“I need you to find someone for me.”

“Who?”

“The Star-born.”

“The Star-born is nothing more than a fairytale told to children.” Kieran replied.

Cirs’s smile widened a fraction. “What if I told you she wasn’t?”

“Then I would ask what you wanted with her and why you would possibly need my help in finding her.”

“What I want with her is of no concern of yours. I am asking for your help because as of now you are the last remaining mage in the realm.”

The color drained from Kieran’s face. “What do you mean, I’m the last?”

“The queens have come to strip everyone of the gifts they bestowed thanks to your brother’s foolishness and the breaking of the accords between our kingdoms. Even as we speak they are negotiating the terms of the relinquishment with your father.”

“And what’s to stop them from taking my power?”

“Me.”

“And why should I trust you?”

Cirs smirked. “Because I know you, Kieran. You value your power above all else and you will do anything to keep it.”

“And if I refuse?”

“Then I will make the terms of our little agreement to such so as that you won’t.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

Instead of answering Kieran drew the slender rune carved wooden rod from his belt and pointed it at the fae spitting a word in an ancient tongue. Orange colored fire pooled at its tip and then shot across the open space in a roaring fireball. The ball of flame erupted against the wall and dissipated leaving Cirs standing calmly in the exact same spot as before as steam rose from his clothing and hair. He gave Kieran a look one might give an unruly child.

“Was that really necessary? Come now, I would have thought that fool of a mentor would have taught you better manners than that.”

Kieran threw another fireball as he maneuvered around his desk and launched himself at the other man. As soon as the flames left the rod he began another incantation. Arcs of blue lightning danced along the runes this time before travelling up his arm then spread to surround him in a blue-white halo of energy. He snarled the last word that would release the spell and hurled the lightning at the waiting fae. Cirs did not remain still this time. With an almost bored expression he held up a hand, palm out, and halted the flames in mid air, then deftly countered the lightning bolt without so much as batting an eyelash. Before Kieran could attempt another spell Cirs snapped out a command of his own in a melodic sounding language and flicked his wrist. A thousand shards of ice assaulted Kieran and threw him back against his desk. There was an audible crack as the wooden surface splintered under the force and he crumpled to the ground with a groan. The rod clattered to the floor and rolled away out of reach. Kieran had barely managed to get to his hands and knees before Cirs was on him.

The fae grabbed Kieran by his hair and jerked his head back to a painful degree to stare into the fallen man’s eyes. What Kieran saw in the ice of Cirs’ gaze as they began to glow a brighter silver chilled him to the core.

“You should know better than to think you can match power with me,” Cirs hissed.

Kieran had no breath left to form words and wheezed painfully, reaching up to grasp the fae’s wrist. There was a flash of gold light as Kieran released power from a small woven band of gold he wore upon his hand. The air filled with a sizzling sound and the smell of burning flesh. Cirs recoiled with a curse and released his hold. The mage had no time to recover however as the fae smashed his fist into the side of his face. Kieran collapsed back to the ground.

Insolent mortal!”

Kieran managed a sneering smile through the haze of pain that was beginning to cloud his vision. “As long as I draw breath you’ll never have her.”

Cirs drew a dagger from his belt.

The blade emitted a soft blue glow as it came free of its sheath, radiating a cold that even Kieran could feel from where he lay. He closed his eyes and mustered the last of his strength to release a final spell.

You monster!

Before Cirs could deliver his blow he was suddenly knocked over as a slip of a girl barreled into him full force taking him by surprise. The dagger flew from his grasp and skittered across the floor as he and the girl tumbled to the ground in a heap. Cirs recovered first and before Kieran could gain his feet the prince stood with a blade to the young girl’s throat. He offered Kieran a humorless smile.

“I will have your answer now.”

“Let Thyra go.”

The blade pressed closer. A single bead of crimson appeared on Thyra’s neck. She whimpered.

“Your answer, what will it be?”

Kieran closed his eyes. “…yes.”

“I knew you weren’t a fool,” Cirs said. His grin darkened. “Now a little incentive to ensure you don’t break your word.”

The room grew colder as the prince’s power swelled, and the silver glow of his eyes brightened to a painful intensity.

There was an explosion of ice. Thyra suddenly screamed. It was over in a matter of seconds and Kieran was left trying to blink the spots from his vision. When they finally cleared he stared in disbelief. Cirs stood alone, his aura dimmed, and his eyes returned to their normal ice blue, holding a single long stemmed white rose in his hand. His sister had disappeared.

Where is she?” Kieran rasped and lurched to his feet stumbling in his haste to reach the prince.

He grabbed Cirs by his tunic. “Where is Thyra?”

Cirs clucked his tongue and gave Kieran a patronizing smile, holding up the rose. “Careful now. We wouldn’t want to damage any of her petals…”

Kieran looked at the rose and paled letting go of the prince’s soiled clothing before taking a step backwards. “Dear gods what have you done?”

Cirs smiled and released the rose. It floated a few inches in front of him emitting a soft silvery glow. “Given you a deadline.”

“Change her back,” Kieran demanded.

Cirs tsked and shook his head, moving back toward the mirror that adorned the wall. “That is not how the rules of this game work. She will be returned to her human form, provided you bring me what I have asked for. But for each cycle of the moon that passes without the delivery of the Star-born the rose will begin to wither. Take too long and she will die. It is your choice how long she suffers.”

Kieran weakened though he was, snarled and threw himself toward the fae. “Damn you!”

Laughing Cirs stepped into the mirror and vanished just as Kieran’s fist shattered the glass.

Next Chapter: Aftermath (partial)