by A C Wilds
“Everyone talks about all these consequences, but I don’t see anyone taking action. Do they torture you if you don’t behave? Take away your food? What is it that everyone is so afraid of?” I yell at him.
Greyson looks into my eyes and says, “Yes.” It’s one simple word, but the impact is heavy. The Court of Light does all the things that I imagine and likely more. They hurt people for their own gain. These people are stuck here because of them. They have to endure atrocities because of these self-righteous Fae.
“Fine, you can walk me, but don’t try to talk to me. I don’t want to socialize with you. You're the reason I am stuck in this nightmare.” I tell him, because I don’t want to talk about the consequences anymore.
“Listen, Azra; I had no choice. I know you are new to all of this, but you’ll quickly realize that us humans have no rights and no say in anything we do.”
“Yeah, I got a taste of that just now, but that doesn’t give you a free pass to kidnap people. You had a million chances to run away. You were alone in a town where no one knew you.”
“It’s not that simple. Certain things are keeping me here.”
“Whatever. If all of the Fae are as fantastic as Barty, I am not going to get too many invites to the secret Fae parties.”
“Barty?” Greyson laughs a great big belly laugh. He hugs his sides and doubles over. I don’t see how this is so funny, but it was refreshing to look at his beautiful face and see a smile there. A genuine smile that I imagine he used all the time before he came to the Light. Besides, everyone gets a nickname. I don’t do full names — too formal, too restricting, and not enough fun. I hated my full name Azrael. I got it legally changed to Azra when I was 18. It always made me feel like I could never live up to it. Especially when my piece of shit mom would say it to me like a curse. Like it was a dirty word. Yeah, everyone gets nicknames.
“Yeah, Barty. He’s an asshole, and I am not taking the time to say his full name every time I have to talk to the wanker.”
“He isn’t going to like that one bit you know. He is very traditional, and like you say, a total wanker.” He seems different after that laugh. There is a sparkle in his eye that wasn’t there before. It makes me want to ask him a million questions, but then I remember who he is and I snap out of it.
“Well, that’s not my problem.” I shrug my shoulders. “Just ‘cause I’m stuck here doesn’t mean I have to change the way I act.”
“Yeah, I can see that’s not going to happen, so I will leave you to it,” he says, as he nods his head and turns to leave. We are at the door to the palace, and by the time I look his way to ask where we are, he is gone.
Death and Tarot
Azra
I open the door and step into the kitchen. It’s warm and smells fantastic in here. There are people all around going about their daily tasks. It’s like a bustling city down here. I look for someone to tell me how to get back to my room, and a woman runs into me. She is no older than I am and seems to be in a rush.
“Hi,” I say, with a small smile. “Can you tell me how to get to the suites? I’m staying in the Pearl Room and have no idea how to get back.”
“You’re Azrael the Changer?” she says, with a raised eyebrow. “I can see it, although you aren’t what I expected.” How does this woman know who I am? Apparently, I am the talk of the palace. I wonder how many other people know about me?
“I don’t know what that means, and the name’s Azra. I changed it a long time ago.” Hearing that name again so many times in the short time I have been here is bringing up so many bad memories. I shiver at the mention of it.
She smiles at me and says, “I’ll walk you back to your rooms under one condition,”
“What would that be?” I give her the hip-pop because I need her to know I’m not a pushover captive. I won’t be doing any favors for the Fae, and I’m betting she is one of them. Her face is too perfect not to be. She has rosebud lips and long blond hair. Her eyes are a deep grey, and her energy screams at mine. Something about her seems different than Michael and Cass though, even if I don’t know what it is yet.
“Let me read you,” she whispers, and then looks around to see if others are nearby. The coast is clear. Everyone must have moved on from their tasks here.
“You mean a tarot reading?” I ask her.
“Yes. I am a seer, and I would like to know what the future has in store for you and all of us here.”
“You mean the King wants to know,” I tell her.
“You're smarter than you look.” she grins at me. “But, no, I do not want to know for the King. I have dreamt of the Great Change for years, and I would like to know if you’re the one that is going to make it happen. Follow me.” She turns from me and starts walking down the hall. I quicken my pace to keep up with her. She is a lot taller and has longer legs. Just before we get to the junction where I know we have to turn, she slips into a small room.
I follow in after her and take in my surroundings. It’s like a mystic shopping mall in here. There are glass jars and vials all along the walls, dried herbs hanging from the ceiling, and a huge bookshelf filled with tomes that look older than Cass. It smells like rosemary and lavender and something else a little smokey. My eyes are drawn to a table with a purple silk cloth draped over it. On top is a crystal the size of my palm that looks a lot like a diamond.
“Yes, it’s real. It was a gift from the King. Diamonds are conduits for being more aligned with the Spirit. It helps to open up energies and lets me read people better,” she says with a shrug, like it’s no big deal to have a diamond that size just lying around on a table.
“How many carats is it?” I ask. My curiosity is getting the best of me right now. I need to know everything about it.
“It’s about 1,000 carats. It’s not polished, but it was cut from its other half. Before you ask, I have no idea how much the King bought it for, or how he obtained it. I know its sister is in the Dark Court.”
“Well, that’s amazing. I didn’t even know diamonds could be this big,” I tell her, with a bit of awe in my voice. I go over to it and pick it up. She doesn’t stop me as I gaze into the rock. I put it down reluctantly. It’s beyond beautiful.
“There are a lot of things you don’t know. Now sit, we don’t have much time before someone comes looking for you, and I’d rather not spell a human today.”
I look at her quizzically but sit in the chair she gestures to. In front of me are a deck of tarot cards and the massive diamond. They look very different from Noli’s deck. These have a type of symbol on the back, and the pictures are so lifelike. The drawings are so detailed and colorful that it requires my admiration.
She fans out the card in an arch movement, except she doesn’t do it with her hands. She waves her fingers over the cards, and they move without her ever touching them. “Pick three,” she tells me.
I’m too stunned to object. I select three and place them in front of me in order. I know this spread. It’s the one Noli does all the time. It tells your past, present, and future.
She flips over the first card. It’s Death, my old friend. Her eye widens a bit, and she looks up at me. “You don’t seem surprised,” she says.
“I’m not. My best friend reads tarot, and this card has come up every time she reads me.”
“What are the other cards?” she asks me.
“There are no others. This is the card that comes up all three times. Over and over, no matter how many times she does a spread. I don’t know what it means, and she says she’s not using a trick deck, but I have my doubts. How could the same card appear three times when there is only one type of that card per deck?” I ask her, shaking my head. It sounds just as stupid saying it out loud as it does in my mind.
“The same card? All three times? No others?”
“None. I’m sure this spread will be different. She was probably fucking with me.”
“Is your friend a witch?” she questions with an earnest face.
“A w
hat?…no she isn’t a witch. There is no such thing as real witches. I know there is the Wiccan religion, but she isn’t that either.”
“How can you say that when you are in the Court of Light? Magic is around you, it’s in you, and you still have yet to admit that to yourself. If you are the Changer like I believe these two other cards will show, then you need to get over this human way of thinking quickly.”
I stare at her because I know it’s true, but at the same time, I want to cling to what is safe. “You’re right, I do have to start believing in this world. It’s just I haven’t had a chance to let everything sink in. I have been thrown from one impossible situation to the next. It doesn’t feel like my life,” I confide in her. I have no idea why, but she reminds me of Noli’s kind spirit, so I don’t hold back.
She flips over the next two cards in quick succession, and they are both Death cards. These don’t look the same though. Noli’s has a skeleton on a horse with a banner of some sort. People are laying on the ground, and one is a king. These cards are different. Each card has the warhorse, but sitting on top is not a skeleton, but a woman with jet black hair falling in soft waves to her waist. She has armor on, but it’s more form fitting to her body. She is turned away from the viewer, but her body type looks a lot like mine. The horse is blood red, and the flag has a Celtic triskele on it. There is both a King and Queen on the ground under her horse’s hooves. The king is in light grey robes and the queen in a stunning black dress which drapes over her bloody body. Both monarchs are dead, and the king has a hole in his chest. The details on these cards are so amazing. There are other people on the ground as well, but they seem to be standing beside her and not under hoofs like the king and queen. There are four men in the distance also on horses. They are dressed in armor, and each is dressed in a different color; red, white, green, and blue. They all look ready to kill for her.
These images are stirring something up inside me. It seems like a calling of some sort, but I can’t decipher why. How do these cards apply to me? “How can this be?” I ask the witch.
“You are the Changer. The cards know it, and now it is time for you to believe it. Let the cards guide you, Azra; they don’t lie,” she tells me, looking at me through thick lashes. She indeed is a beautiful woman. She has on a long grey flowy dress, and her blond hair is hung over one shoulder.
“What is your name?” I ask her, because I haven’t up ‘till now.
“Evanora. You can call me Nora if you wish. It’s a bit more modern than my full name.”
“Nora, how do I fix this whole mess? What does it mean to be the Changer, and why are you saying it like it’s some special thing? I was thrust into this world, not by choice, and no one has taken the time to explain anything to me,” I confess to her. I am starting to spiral at this point with my frustrations.
“The reason why no one has explained anything to you is that we were told not to. The King has very…specific rules here, and if he is not obeyed, both people and Fae will get hurt.”
“This is a dictatorship and not a free loving fairyland like I envisioned the Fae to be,” I say, with no question in my voice.
“It is worse,” she says, and stares into my eyes. I can feel a pull to this woman. Not in a sexual way, but a kindred spirit. I don’t think she is here by her own accord either.
“I think you should go back to your room now. If you make two lefts when you get out of the door, you will find yourself in the suite’s hall. Don’t mention our meeting to anyone. If I have a chance to get away and find you, I will. There is much to discuss now that you are here.”
“You're confusing me even more, Nora. When will I get some answers?” I plead with her.
“He will come for you soon enough. Try not to worry so much. You have supporters here that are willing to guide you through. You just have to have a little faith,” she says, as she rises from her chair. I get up as well and start to walk toward the door. There is so much that has gone on in these last couple of days that I am overwhelmed and scared. Who am I kidding? I am terrified.
Just as I open the door, I turn around to her and say, “Thank you, Nora, for the reading. Even though I’m more confused than when I walked in here, I am glad we met.”
“Me too Azra. Until next time.”
Making the first left leads me right into Daniel. I slam into him and almost tumble to the ground, but he grabs my arms to steady me. “Whoa, you alright?” he asks me in light hearted voice. He is definitely the carefree one.
“Yes, I am fine. Just didn’t see you there is all,” I say, looking up into his face. I pull away and straighten my top. You can see the resemblance between him and Cass. They both have blond hair and gray eyes, but Daniel’s eyes, well they are a bit colder. His gray reminds me of cold steel, the kind they make knives out of.
“Why are you coming this way? I thought you were in the stables with my brother?” he questions me. His gaze is penetrating. He is looking for something to hang over me; I can feel his intent swinging through the air.
“I, um, yes, that is where I was coming from. Why are you asking?” I stammer back. I don’t want him to know about my meeting with Nora.
“You are coming from the wrong direction, if you were at the stables. Did you take a side tour? Maybe to see someone else?” he asks me, while picking up a lock of my hair off my shoulder. We are standing incredibly close. I can smell spring mist and waterfalls coming off of him. His eyes have a hooded glare, and I know the more I stay here, the more chance I have of being in trouble.
“I saw no one,” I say, while squaring my shoulders and taking a step back.
“Azra, you just gave yourself away. Hasn’t anyone ever taught you how to bluff?”
“What do you want from me, Danny?”
“Danny?” he asks with a laugh. “We have nicknames for one another now?”
“I don’t use real names, it’s too uptight and personal.”
“Oh, I like your style,” he says in a seductive tone, while moving back into my space.
“I don’t have a style, but I do want to go to my room. Can you please point me in the right direction?”
“Avoidance, it’s a very acceptable tactic. I have mastered the art of avoidance for centuries. I will let this slip this time, Azra, but understand that I have a tendency to get bored pretty quickly. You may want to keep entertaining me in order to stay on my good side,” he says the last with so much heat, that my eyebrows almost melt off.
I swallow down my initial retort and reply, “I’ll keep that in mind,” as I blast past him and practically run the rest of the way to my room. Fuck that was close!
Meeting Logan
Azra
I open the door to my room and standing in the middle of the room are both maids. They look annoyed. One, more so than the other. The maid who came to bring my clothes stands to the left. She is a pretty blond with curls framing her face. She has pale blue eyes, and she reminds me of Charlotte La Bouff from Disney’s The Princess and the Frog. Those baby blues are just a tad too big for her round head. She is petite but stocky. She looks like she could lift a car with ease. The other maid is tall and lanky. She has mousy brown hair and chocolate brown eyes. Her expression is kinder and holds more compassion than her companion. It seems like she knows what I am going through. She speaks first.
“We would like to introduce ourselves formally. I am Dorothy, and this is Megan,” she says, while pointing to the shorter of the two. “We will be your ladies for the duration of your stay. If you need anything, please feel free to ask, and we will try to accommodate you. Also, know that we are bound by duty to serve the King. We will not betray him in any way, so please don’t ask. Now, is there anything else you need? Something that would make you feel more at home? A dressmaker will be here tomorrow to measure you for some clothes, and a courier will be by sometime to give you a schedule and go over your days here at the palace.”
“This has got to be a nightmare,” I mumble to myself, as I go and s
it down at the edge of the bed. I take in the two women standing in front of me and wonder if they are slaves or free. Were they subjected to this King by choice? For some reason, I don’t think Megan was. I believe there is a whole lot of hate bubbling up inside that little body of hers. It might be something I could use to my advantage.
“I would like some lunch if that’s possible. I didn’t have such a great breakfast. Also, is there a library here? I noticed there is no TV, so I figured books would be the next best thing to entertain myself with while I am here,” I say to Dorothy because clearly, she is in charge.
“We can accommodate those requests for you,” says Megan. She has so much venom in her voice. She hates me already, but why?
“Thanks,” I say.
With that, both women turn on their heels and leave the room. I am finally alone. I have no friends or allies here, and I can’t leave. Walking the grounds today was an eye-opener. There are people everywhere, including other guards. The severity of it all hits me. I have no more family, friends, Manny’s, or my cozy little shack. Everything was ripped from me all because for the first time in two years, I went out to a bar with my friend. I flop on the bed and stare at the ceiling. My mind can’t help but wander back to the nightmare that has been my existence for the past couple of years.
Two years ago, I was blissfully happy in life and in love. I could envision my future with Sean. Then he burned it all to the ground and made me run. All this anguish I have been carrying around is finally crashing down on me, and I know I need to come to terms with everything I’ve locked inside. My life in Virginia was just an echo of those happier New York days. I have been so isolated and closed off that I haven’t truly lived. I haven’t even attempted to do the one thing that I am good at — show jumping. I was starting to become a recognized name before I left. Sponsors were noticing me, and I had an excellent job. Florida’s competition was a mess, but I could have come back the next year and compete again. Who knows, maybe one day I could have made it to the Olympics, but instead I gave up. I let his betrayal strip me bare until all that remained was loneliness and mistrust. Because of that, I am here being held against my will — a prisoner of my own making because I didn’t want to deal with any of the tough emotions. I resolve myself right this instant to never let anyone dictate my life, and I won’t ever let fear rule me again. Like a gaping hole in a dam, I’m able to let it out and cry for a good hour. It’s therapeutic in a way, to finally get all this out. Before I can think on it too long, a knock sounds on the door. That must be my lunch.
