by C. J. Abedi
I spent most of my time around them in silence. Hoping that a lack of words on my part would leave them guessing. I had always been taught to fear those who were the quietest. And I was hoping that my kin had learned the same lessons. I had no way to know. There was no one here that I could rely on.
No one I could trust.
I knew that my people needed direction. They needed guidance; otherwise, through the vice of temptation they would likely stray. So I had decided that morning to bring them to order. To face the eyes that would inevitably question my every move.
I called a King’s audience in the great room that I now reigned over and demanded their attention. The dark cloak resting on my shoulders billowed behind me as it had my father. I began to speak, barely recognizing my own voice.
“According to the ancient laws of this universe, created long before the Fae existed, I am your true King. The Fates willed this day thousands of years ago in the vast belly of eternity. They ordained that this crown would be mine. All of you will swear your individual loyalty to me, and I will look into your eyes and know if you lie. I will see your truth, feel your allegiance, and recognize if your heart stays the course of what has been Fated to be.”
My voice was strong. “I will know if there is any betrayal, even if it is a silent one.”
My place could not be questioned. Even though I stood alone, I would know everything.
“It is time to prove your loyalty.”
I sat down on the great crystal throne and watched as each of my subjects prepared to move forward and face me. Each of them would take part in this ancient ritual, kneeling before me with their palms up so that I could move my black light over theirs and feel the truth.
Katya was the first, and from the smile on her face, I knew she was hoping to gain my trust and undying love.
“You are my one true King,” she said solemnly as she put her palms up, allowing me a glimpse. I leaned over and moved my energy over hers. I could feel the longing she had for me, the desire. It was all there for me to take, if I wanted, but I backed away from it quickly.
“Did you see it all, my King?” She was breathless.
“I did.”
“Then you now know what is in my heart and what I want above all else in this world.”
She wanted me.
She wanted to be my mate, my wife, and rule beside me faithfully. But I had other plans.
My throne had only one seat.
In time, she would learn her rightful place, but now was not the moment for hard truths.
“Thank you, Katya,” I replied politely, careful not to give her false hope.
Her head dropped for a moment, and then she looked up and met my gaze. She did not move, even though there were thousands of others that had yet to kneel.
“Is there a possibility, Devilyn,” she said softly, using my name for the first time, “that maybe in time this feeling I have for you might at least be returned?”
I was shocked that she would ask me such a question. That she would be so bold. And it made me pity her even more. But because I had yet to learn how to navigate my way through this den of wolves, I could not insult her. I pulled my hands back and forced a small smile.
“We have nothing but time.”
She beamed with pleasure and stood up quickly. She was practically gloating as she walked away. I clenched my jaw as I thought of the lies that I would have to continue to tell.
“Poor, pitiful Katya,” a voice whispered.
My eyes narrowed as I looked over at the one Fae in my court that unnerved me the most.
They called him Puck.
His gifts were said to be vast. Cunning. Duplicitous. Never to be trusted. And according to legend, a Fae to be feared. His features were even unique for a Dark Fae: more angelic then mysterious, sweeter looking instead of angular. In his interactions with humans, these features were proven to be a deadly combination.
I had heard that this member of the Dark Fae had been especially loyal to my father. I was suddenly anxious to get a glimpse of his soul.
“Pitiful?” I asked. “Why?
Puck slowly moved toward me in a confident stride, and I noted that even his gait was different from the other Fae. Every physical move he made was like a dance step, akin to the battle of wits he loved to play.
He leaned in, careful to not allow his voice to carry, and continued, “There she is, pathetically pining away. Lusting after our Dark King. Wanting you, desiring you even though we know she fools herself into believing that you will ever be hers.” He moved away from me. “It is a disease, is it not, my King?”
I waited for him to tell me as I watched. He stepped even further back, speaking louder now so those in the room could hear his every word.
“Love.”
I felt a chill as I watched Puck begin his dance. He knew how to grab the attention of the room, so skilled was he in the art of war. He smiled widely at me before he began:
My love is as a fever, longing still
For that which longer nurseth the disease,
Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill
Th’uncertain sickly appetite to please.
Every eye was on him as he recited the poem he had no doubt inspired Shakespeare to write. I looked around and noted how enamored they all were of him and his ways. They took him in and craved even more. They loved Puck, and much more than that, he knew it.
My reason, the physician to my love,
Angry that his prescriptions are not kept,
Hath left me, and I desp’rate now approve
Desire is death, which physic did except.
Past cure I am, now reason is past care,
And frantic mad with evermore unrest
He spoke dramatically, enunciating every word, looking around at the smiling Fae before making eye contact with me at relevant points that he knew I alone would understand.
My thoughts and my discourse as madmen’s are,
At random from the truth vainly expressed;
For I have sworn thee fair and thought thee bright
He smiled widely at me, his mocking grin making me furious with anger, wanting with every fiber of my being to attack him.
Who art as black as hell, as dark as night.
He would not win. I would never let him. I leaned back in my throne and clapped my hands. The noise echoed through the hall, deliberate on my part, as others began clapping as well. I wanted him to know that I understood his game. I understood it better than anyone else.
“Bravo.” I smiled coldly.
“Shakespeare did have a way with his words, did he not?” Puck said as he again moved toward me.
“His words?” I questioned, raising a brow.
“Well, I did play a hand in some of his more memorable masterpieces. Especially the ones about pain and loss,” Puck admitted as he dropped to his knees. “And death.”
I looked down at him sharply as he held out his palms.
“The one thing I found in the years I spent among the mortals,” Puck continued slowly, “is that to be human is to live with one constant, never-ending thought.”
“And that is?”
“Death. Is. Coming.” He smiled wickedly.
My wrath enveloped my inner core, rising within like a dark plague. I felt my energy shift within seconds as hate fed my soul, the underlying implication of Caroline’s mortality so obvious on his serpent tongue.
“Remember that violent delights tend to have violent ends,” I sneered.
“I find violence unbecoming, my King.” He smirked.
The way he enunciated my title made me loathe him even more. I leaned forward forcefully and placed my hands above his, but all I could feel was my own rage. Puck watched me with a raised brow, waiting for me to confirm his true intentions.
I wanted to see a sign, but all I could feel was my own hate.
A minute passed.
“Have you completed your inquiry, master?” Puck asked as he raised his
voice so his fans could hear. ”Have I, too, passed the test? I have to say, there is nothing quite like allowing someone to see inside your soul, now, is there?”
I stood angrily as Puck gave me a feigned look of surprise.
“Would you like to look again, my King?” He held out his hands, and all I wanted was to blast him with my energy.
He was playing me.
And with such ease.
I had so easily succumbed to rage and still, even now, it shook me to the core. I needed to get a grip. I could not attack him now, especially because of the almost rock star persona he held at court.
I would have to wait.
But not for long.
“I have seen your skills,” I said to him with a cold smile, “and I cannot wait to use them to my own advantage.” I took a moment. “As my father before me.”
I watched the grin leave Puck’s face as he bowed his head in a show of obedience.
“I am at your disposal.”
And with that, Puck turned and left the great hall.
I slowly scanned the room and saw the remaining Fae watch me with trepidation and fear. It was there, palpable, even though many of them tried to hide it; they would never question my strength, not with all that had happened. And in time, they wouldn’t question my loyalties, a sentiment that would never be reciprocated. They had every right to be afraid, because I certainly was. Anyone who strayed, who dared defy my new order, would suffer consequences so severe that they would scream for a Fae death, because they would not be able to survive the torturous sentence I would bestow upon them. I was the Dark King, after all.
Alderon may have been powerful, but it was ultimately my strength that defeated him. And they would never forget this. Just as I could not escape the monster I now was. I sought darkness and darkness prevailed.
Within a second I felt a heaviness descend upon me. I needed to leave the hall. I had to get out of their presence. The dark was strangling the light out of me, killing it slowly, leaving behind a shell of my former self. And if the Fae were to sense that I was caving under the pressure, I would be eaten alive. No one could know the details of the thoughts that walked hand in hand with me like my shadow for the past several months.
I needed to run.
But I had nowhere to go. The man who had raised me, who had called me his son, was no doubt gravely disappointed in the path that I was now on. I could feel his pain even from such a distance. I had always promised him that I would do right by him. By her. But those were just words, easily spoken and easily broken.
I couldn’t remain in their company any longer. I quickly left with my guards, who followed loyally behind. The only sound echoing throughout the vast palace hallway came from the march of my escorts.
When we finally reached the large wooden doors to my room, they were slowly opened by two grotesque gargoyles, there to safeguard the King’s chamber. They had resided outside the large entrance for centuries. Their sentence had begun when Alderon had captured the fearsome creatures many centuries past.
When they arrived they were feral and untamed. He knew they had great potential, so he spent hours at a time using his magik and cunning to train them solely for the purpose of guarding his chambers, and now mine. They knew no other home, knew no other way. Their sole purpose was to stand down any intruders wanting to enter the gates of my newfound hell.
Before I entered the room, I raised my hand in a gesture that clearly let them know I wanted to walk in alone. They immediately stopped and shifted in unison, aligning the outside of the doors. They were trained to protect me in this kingdom for life, as long as I wore the Dark crown.
I kept my back to them and held my breath, waiting anxiously for the large doors to close. When they shut with a loud thud, I finally felt free.
I could breathe again.
All the events of the past few months had felt so rushed. It was never supposed to be this way. I thought the transition would be easier. One that I could easily accept.
But it wasn’t.
And now, I needed time. Time to make sense of the man I had become and manage this rage I now had that was constantly on the verge of eruption. I removed my cloak and let it drop to the ground as I walked to the massive window that overlooked the forest of the Fae and stared out on the land that I now ruled over. The feeling of despair that washed over me was suffocating. I took each breath in as if it were my last, and I forced myself to think of something that would give me peace.
The only escape I had now from the life I had chosen was in my dreams. And the only person I would ever let occupy them was Caroline.
Always her.
I felt the madness that had followed me into my room begin to subside.
No one could ever take away my dreams.
And suddenly I felt like myself again.
I relished the feeling, even if it was fleeting, and wondered what she was doing.
C
Was this some kind of nightmare?
I seriously couldn’t believe my class schedule. I was sure I was being punked. I glanced down at my iPhone for the thousandth time.
Did third period really say “drama”? I silently cursed. There was no way this was right, not even if I had some sort of momentary lapse in sanity. I couldn’t possibly have signed up for this class.
I was positive that I was being set up for failure, and there was no way to remedy my situation, because I had spent the better part of the morning in the admissions office begging Mrs. Landers, our office administrator, to look into the mix-up and help me make a change. A drama elective wasn’t going to help me get into any colleges because I would be sure to fail.
“Miss Ellis, you know that all of the classes are now full,” she replied between bites of a glazed donut. “There’s really nothing we can do. The computer says you selected this course, and the computer doesn’t lie.” Her sticky finger pointed to the monitor.
“If you had brought this problem to our attention over the summer, we might have been able to do something about it. But it’s too late for that now.”
“I just received it two days ago,” I pleaded. “And I called the school, but you weren’t here, and the woman who answered said that you were the only one who could move my classes around.”
She continued eating, ignoring every word I said. I was so frustrated I could actually picture myself grabbing the donut from her hands and throwing it in the garbage can just so she’d look at me.
“I didn’t pick drama.” I knew I sounded hysterical. “I would never pick drama. Ever.”
She swallowed another bite.
“I don’t know what else to say about it. Unless we have someone drop out of one of the classes you do want, you, my dear, are stuck in drama,” she said with an insincere smile. “Besides, it’s only for a semester. You’re a smart girl. You’ll be just fine.”
“What does being smart have to do with it?”
“It means you can handle this, Miss Ellis. Now I do have work to do, so run along.” She dismissed me with a wave.
I wanted to cry.
If it hadn’t been for Teddy and his amazing ability to talk me off of any ledge, I would have spent the rest of my junior year hiding behind the bleachers of the football field with a paper bag in one hand and a trash can in the other. One to breathe in and the other to throw up the remnants of my lunch.
But Teddy was more convincing.
“You love the classics,” he had said. “This is a good thing. You’ll get to read all of them.” Ha! Yeah, but he failed to mention that I would actually have to act out the scenes in those classics as well!
When that line of reasoning didn’t work, he managed to once again prove why he was my best friend.
“Listen, calm down. Seriously, hives are not attractive. I’ll see if I can drop my theology elective and I’ll take drama with you.”
“You would do that for me?”
“Of course. And then you’ll owe me big time.”
And now
as I took a seat in the last row, I sunk down miserably and prayed that Teddy was having more luck in the admissions office than I had had. I didn’t know what I would do if I was stuck in there all semester by myself.
Maybe if I hide the teacher won’t see me.
“Caroline Ellis?” Mr. Copeland called out in a fierce British accent.
No such luck. I’m doomed.
“Here,” I squeaked.
“Ah, good. Welcome,” he replied with a huge smile. “Please join us here on stage. Front and center. I have some exciting characters with lots of depth for all of you to take a crack at.”
The only one I’d be any good at would be the role of mortified high school student. I slowly made my way down the stairs toward the front of the class. Just when I thought I was about to have the worst day ever, Teddy, my Rock of Gibraltar, quietly snuck into the class, squeezing my shoulders as he passed me. I released a secret sigh of relief and stepped onto the stage.
“You, my dear, are going to try your hands at Shakespeare’s Juliet.”
Juliet?
God.
Help.
Me.
I was in deep trouble.
Ten minutes later, after I had made an absolute mockery of Shakespeare’s beloved romantic, Mr. Copeland rescued me from my continued humiliation.
“Well, Ms. Ellis. That was very interesting,” he said. “Very interesting, indeed.”
Interesting was not good.
“It’s definitely missing … something.”
I couldn’t agree more. I looked out at what seemed like a sea of faces smiling gleefully at my discomfort.
“Well, um, what do you think it needs?”
I heard a loud guffaw and knew it was Teddy trying to control his laughter.
I was pretty sure that if Mr. Copeland could say, It needs someone who can act, he would.
“It needs Juliet. It needs passion. Put some energy into it! I want to hear her angst,” he replied as he stood up and began waving his arms about. “You are dealing with a woman who has battled everyone in her life for the beauty of love. They are more than star-crossed lovers, Ms. Ellis. Juliet would die for her Romeo. Literally lay down and die.”
