by Ren Curylo
“Stay away from the Fae, Chéile,” Ársa warned. “Next time you have a run-in with them, you may not be so lucky. If you come near them when Moriko is present she will kill you and she’ll be well within her rights to do so.”
“She’s a cunt,” Chéile snarled. “Someday, I’ll kill her, too.” She reached up and unfastened the quick-release snaps at the shoulders of her gown. The soft fabric slithered down her long, slender legs. She stood, completely naked before Ársa, glaring at him, her eyes locked with his. “If that’s all you came to say, then we’re finished. I am going to shower. I have to go to the infirmary in the morning for a checkup with Grannus. Good night, Ársa,” she said dismissively.
Ársa wanted to rip her head off as she sauntered into her bathroom and shut the door.
3 weeks later Nalin 13, 763
Woodmist, Mirus Corath, Lerien
Ársa Ársa found that he enjoyed walking the world he had created. Like Moriko, it gave him peace and solace. He fully understood why she was constantly roaming Lerien. While she spent her time in the solitude of the forests with the animals and plants for companionship, he enjoyed being among the mortals. They gave him a sense of purpose that felt lacking in his day to day, century after century. After his last meeting with Moriko, he hadn’t sought her out anymore. He knew, deep down, that she was right. It accomplished nothing but frustration for them to see one another all the time. Seeing her made him want her, but she had made it plain that, while she loved him, she wasn’t about to lie with him— certainly not while he had a wife.
He thought of Adamen, for the first time in a long time. They had, by some mutual and unspoken agreement, stopped seeing one another. Adamen felt more and more guilty about it as she and Moriko had become closer friends. He was also worried about Adamen’s safety because he hadn’t yet figured out how Chéile knew so much about his life on Lerien. The less he saw of people who mattered to him, the safer he thought they would be.
Ársa stepped out of the forest and stood at the river’s edge, quietly waiting. After a few minutes, the water, flowing sedately at his feet began to move faster, almost roiling until a white froth appeared on the surface. Soon, his sister’s dark greenish-black hair was visible beneath the surface, floating out around her like writhing tendrils of eelgrass. Moments later, she crested the water and smiled up at her brother.
“Sorry I’m late, Ársa, but I had a meeting that ran longer than I expected.” Anoba rose from the water and walked naked to the bank where she climbed up to stand beside her brother. The water on her dark, murky green skin glistened in the sun as it did on the surface of the river behind her. She snapped her fingers and she was instantly fully clothed in a tight-fitting, body-molding uniform much like the one Ársa wore. Once clothed, she hugged her brother and kissed his cheek in greeting.
Ársa hugged her before smiling into his sister’s face. “That’s all right. Were you meeting with Moriko?” He noted the hopeful tone of his own voice and was only mildly disappointed in himself.
“No,” Anoba said, shaking her head. “I was meeting with Oseyan, but I can tell you that Moriko is doing fine if you’re curious.”
Ársa shrugged, hoping it appeared nonchalant. “Did you have an opportunity to complete the task I asked of you, Anoba?” he asked, getting straight to the subject of their meeting.
“I did,” she said with a grim nod. “But the results won’t make you happy.”
“I figured as much.”
“Unless you can find some grounds to imprison Chéile, Ársa, you won’t be getting a divorce anytime soon.”
“That’s what I was afraid of,” he said. He moved to sit on a flat rock jutting from the ground near the riverbank. “Unfortunately, she’s managed to stack the Sanction Panel with at least one supporter, so nothing will be done about her destruction of the Lilitu Grove.”
Anoba took a seat next to him. “There are a few people opposed to granting the divorce, as well,” she said.’
“Hermolaos and Éadomhain,” he said.
“Yes, those two, but they intimated that they could be persuaded with the right incentive. There was also opposition from Woe and Despair,” she said, calling Ochón and Éadóchas by their nicknames.
“That isn’t surprising either.”
“And another voice in opposition was Kealoha.”
“Ah, yes, the record keeper for Na Réaltaí. I should have known he would oppose it. He never wants to undo any record he’s ever created. Vedran also is on her side.”
“Things have seemed pretty calm on Na Réaltaí lately, though, Ársa. Are they deceptive?”
Ársa shook his head. “No,” he said. “Things have been calm because Chéile is keeping a low profile after the Lilitu Grove. And Grannus said she’s having some morning sickness issues, but that will stop in a couple of months. It is a peace I do not expect to last, however.”
“Is she still on a tear over Moriko?” Anoba asked.
“She hasn’t mentioned her much in a long while. She is convinced I am having an affair with Erish.”
“She’s dangerous,” she said.
“Last month, she accused me of sleeping with Moriko and she made a comment about our dancing.”
“Dancing?”
“Yes, but I honestly do not know how she found out about it.”
“What?” Anoba asked. “Were you dancing with Moriko?”
Ársa nodded. “At her swamp house. Chéile described the scene perfectly, so she learned about it somehow. There was no one there but the two of us, so no one told her about it. It’s as if she had seen it firsthand.”
“How is it possible? I mean, we do have surveillance set up to monitor Lerien, Ársa, but Chéile does not have clearance to access any of it. And besides, only a select few of us know about Moriko’s swamp.”
“I know, but Chéile knew too many details.”
“Like what?”
“Like me picking Moriko up and her wrapping her legs around my waist and us kissing.”
“I see,” Anoba said. “She has some method of spying, you can be sure, but it isn’t through our system.”
“I need to investigate to find out how she’s doing it.”
“She’s sneaky, Ársa, so it won’t be easy.”
“She is careful not to let anyone in her rooms, except in the sitting room, although I busted in on her the other night.”
“She guards her inner bedchamber like a dragon with its treasure, in those old world stories.”
Ársa laughed. “Truth be told, Anoba, I have never been unfaithful to her. I’ve never done anything with Moriko except kiss her. And even that was more flirtatious than serious.”
“And you don’t consider that cheating?” Anoba asked.
“No,” Ársa said.
“Really?” Anoba asked. Her tone conveyed her disbelief as if this were among the most incredulous things she had ever heard.
“What’s wrong with it?” Ársa asked a bit defensively. “I have never had sex with Moriko. And my physical relationship with Adamen had fallen apart before her son was born. We never had sex again after she got pregnant.”
“Her son? I believe it takes two, Ársa, so what do you mean ‘her son’?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Anoba,” Ársa said. “We both know that I don’t view him as my child. Why, I’ve never laid eyes on him. I mean, I know he’s mine but he isn’t. He’s not part of my life. He never will be. He only exists because of that damned prophecy.”
“And what of the child Chéile carries?” Anoba asked. “Do you feel the same way about it? I know you never wanted children, but it’s not their fault and they don’t deserve to be punished by you for existing.”
“I have come to understand that there are serious penalties for existing, Anoba. And I don’t know how I feel, yet, about Chéile’s child. She will rear it on Na Réaltaí and will be part of my day-today life. I will likely see him every day and have an active hand in raising him.”
“I can’t be
lieve you feel that way. Girin is your flesh and blood, Ársa,” she said.
Ársa grunted in a slightly derisive tone. “Wait until you have your first child solely to fulfill The Prophecy, Anoba, and then tell me if you have familial feelings toward it.”
“Well, at least Chéile doesn’t know about him, so hopefully your life will be peaceful while she’s occupied with her pregnancy. Maybe the baby will help her not be so crazy.”
“Don’t think I didn’t note you changing the subject, there, sis,” he said, looking at her with a knowing smile. “But I will let it pass for now. And I, too, am hopeful that she has moved beyond her jealousy. She seems to have nurtured it so far, though.”
“Is she living completely in her own rooms, now?”
“Yes, and I’m all right with that. I hope she stays there. I didn’t like sharing my space. I need to be able to come and go as I please.”
“And how is she when you see her? I’m assuming you see her once in a while.”
“I avoid her as much as possible. Grannus keeps me informed about the pregnancy. We haven’t slept together since the night the fetus was conceived.”
“You don’t find that odd?”
“I am relieved by it, frankly,” Ársa said. “I don’t know, Anoba.” He shook his head distractedly as if trying to sort his thoughts. “Before, it was like I was drawn to her, almost against my will. It was as if she was some kind of virus running in my veins. I don’t understand it. I don’t know the reason for the change, but I feel I’ve been cured of her. I feel at peace with my feelings for her, or lack of feelings for her, for the first time since shortly after we met.”
“You’re spending a lot more time down here, I noticed. You’re joining our Lerien Rover’s Club,” Anoba said with a laugh.
“I never heard of that club,” he said, “but yes, I am spending a lot of time here.”
“It’s an old joke among those of us who spend most of our time here. I think it was actually Moriko’s idea. She was joking of course, but there’s a ring of truth in the title.”
“That sounds like her. I understand her better now. I understand you, Oseyan, all of you who spend the majority of your time here. I find a lot of comfort in walking around Lerien.”
“Believe me, I understand, Ársa.”
“I feel alive here. I can think or not think, as it pleases me. I can shut Na Réaltaí out of my mind if I choose and for as long as I choose when I’m here. The only time it intrudes is when my gansreang drags me back to reality.”
“Too bad you can’t ignore it as much as Moriko does.”
He laughed. “I know. She’s quite the queen of pretending she doesn’t have a gansreang, isn’t she?”
“You know she has different tones set up so she knows instantly who’s trying to contact her. She only ignores certain people.”
“And, of course, I’m one of them.”
“Of course you are,” Anoba said with a laugh. “She’ll forgive you completely some day.”
“I hope she will. Her attitude has improved already. She let me dance with her and she let me kiss her. I’d say that’s a bit of progress.”
“I guess so,” Anoba said, “but it’s debatable how healthy that kind of progress is.”
Ársa grunted but didn’t comment.
“So, where are you headed?” Anoba asked.
“I’m going into the village of Woodmist,” he said. “It’s a short distance north of the Lilitu Grove, so it’s about ten miles from here.”
“I see,” she said. “Are you going to the Lilitu Grove, too?”
He shook his head. “I hadn’t planned to.”
“Having the Lilitu living so near the humans has created quite an uproar in this part of the world. It’s that way in every place where the Fae live near humans. Of course, the rebuilding of the grove will take some time, and that, in itself causes an uproar.”
“The humans are a superstitious lot,” Ársa said, “and everything about the Fae way of life feeds into that, which makes the relationship full of superstition, rumor, and myth.”
“Well, as long as those things don’t work out to the detriment of the Fae,” Anoba said.
“I’m sure the Fae are being well looked after,” he said.
“Moriko loves them. She takes her job guarding them seriously,” Anoba said.
Ársa looked at her with his blue eyes glittering.
“But you know that. So is that why you’re here? Because you think it’s an area where you’re more likely to run into Moriko because of the reconstruction?”
“No, and don’t be so suspicious, sister,” Ársa said brusquely.
Anoba laughed. “Well, it was nice seeing you, Ársa, but I have to run. I have a meeting with Gealach before nightfall. I’ll see you again soon.”
Ársa nodded and kissed her cheek.
Anoba snapped her fingers, making her clothing disappear before she dove, naked, back into the river. He continued to stand, alone and only slightly lonely on the bank, staring at the water until the rippling receded. He turned and picked his way down the path toward Woodmist. He wanted to be out of the woods before it started getting dark but he also wanted the solitude of the walk over the speed of Travel.
The myths abounding here were in part responsible for the village’s name, Woodmist. The forest in this area filled with mist in the evening and generally stayed that way throughout the night, at least as far as humans’ vision was concerned. Ársa knew the facts, and he didn’t blame the Fae at all for playing up the fear. It was in their best interest to keep the humans at a safe distance.
He hadn’t been to the Lilitu Grove in a year, not since he rescued Adamen from her mother. Before that, it was when Queen Erish had summoned him to request that he honor his promise to her and assign them a representative. He had given them Moriko, and the Lilitu were pleased, as were the other races of Fae he had encountered across Lerien.
Ársa didn’t plan to visit the Lilitu Grove this trip, though he knew he should since Chéile had destroyed their grove. He didn’t want to see Adamen. It would likely be awkward between them. What if Moriko were with her? Shirking his duty made him feel somewhat guilty so he decided he would give it some thought, as he walked into the village of Woodmist. It was evening, about time for dinner and he was hungry. He quickly located the tavern and made his way in. Hopefully, the Harpy’s Head Tavern served a meal of some sort. Most of them did. It was generally only the basest of establishments that neglected at least a simple meal. This place looks better than those, he thought, as he entered through the heavy wooden doorway.
It was loud inside as the farmers and other local folk came together for a drink to relax after a hard day’s work. Ársa slipped in quietly, though more than a few heads turned in his direction. Mostly, they were satisfied that he was nothing more than another traveler and they turned back to their conversations and their mugs of ale.
Ársa took a table in the corner near the bar and kitchen area. It was quieter, with less chance that someone would draw him into a conversation. He usually wasn’t opposed to socializing with the mortals, but today, he felt more reflective than sociable and he wanted nothing more than a meal and mug of ale.
The barmaid was a buxom young woman with raven hair that curled and waved its way down to the small of her back. She had a nice smile, a pretty face, and a friendly demeanor. She walked up to Ársa’s table and smiled. Leaning over so that her blouse gapped away from her breasts, she said, “What will you have, tonight, Mister?”
Ársa’s eyes flickered over the ample view she offered him before he looked up into her brown eyes. “Do you have a meal?”
“Yes, we have a nice hearty lamb stew tonight,” she said without moving or standing up.
“I’ll have that and your best ale,” he said.
She smiled at him again. “I’ll get it right away,” she said. “And perhaps later I could interest you in a little something— special.”
“Perhaps you can at that,�
� he said.
Her grin broadened. “I get off work in two hours,” she said. “I have a room upstairs.”
Ársa nodded. He watched her walk away to get his food and drink, admiring the sway of her hips as she went.
Nalin 13, 763 Na Réaltaí
Chéile Chéile stopped feeling queasy for the first time in a week so she decided to venture out of her chambers for some food and companionship. She quickly learned that it was a dull night for company since it was the start of a new workweek for most of the crew. The food turned out to be a bad idea, too, for the smell made her stomach rebel.
She returned to her chamber after attempting dinner in the Droichead and soon grew bored. She dragged out her scrying bowl and poured the special liquid into it. She hadn’t felt up to using it much for the last month. The last time, she reflected, was when she caught her husband ‘dancing’ with Moriko in some crappy looking shack that Chéile herself wouldn’t be caught dead in. She turned her thoughts to her other rival, one she hoped to have more success getting rid of since Moriko proved to be a real stubborn obstacle for her.
She focused on Erish and waited. Nothing came up. The woman was hiding from her. She wasn’t sure exactly how to go about finding her since her link to the woman was tenuous. After a few frustrating minutes of failure, Chéile gave up.
She shifted her focus to Moriko. She almost never had any issues locating her. She found her readily. The woman was in the forest, as usual. Doing nothing but being boring and alone. She hadn’t seen her with Ársa, much to Chéile’s relief, since the day she had seen them dancing together. If you could call it dancing. Who dances holding the woman off the floor? And she has her legs wrapped around his waist. Who the Ifreann do they think they’re fooling?
Moriko didn’t hold Chéile’s interest for long since she was alone. She shifted her attention to Ársa. Nothing happened. She shook her head, confused. She had been having a lot of trouble tracking Ársa for the last month. She admitted that she had given it no more than a half-hearted effort. Tonight was the first night she had seriously tried to find any of them in several weeks. She had made a few pathetic attempts, nothing more than cursory, and she hadn’t cared one way or the other what the results were.
