They Mostly Come Out At Night

by Benedict Patrick

"Adahy? You are Adahy, aren't you? You’re here to help me?"

  The Magpie King was silent for a moment, staring at Lonan with his blank mask.

  "Do not leave any remains."

  And with that, he was gone.

  "Wait, Adahy, wait-"

  Pain shot up Lonan’s arm again as he lost another digit. This time, the creature brought its pointed teeth close to Lonan's face as it chomped joyfully on his flesh, allowing his own blood to fall into his mouth as he screamed mindlessly.

  He was going to die.

  A rage-filled female voice pierced the pain. "Get off him."

  A thick amber liquid sprayed over the creature and Lonan, blinding the young man's attacker.

  "Lonan, roll."

  Released by the attacking shape as it brought its hands to its face, Lonan squirmed out from under the creature and rolled off to the side, clutching his injured hand as he did so. This gave Mother Ogma all the space that she needed to throw her lantern at the oil-covered monster. Flames enveloped it, and black feathers, now alight, rose to the sky as it shrieked.

  "Quick," she gasped, pulling Lonan across the green as the creature burned out to a dead husk, "Back to the cellar. Harlow is flailing around like a madman - I don't know what to do with him."

  Lonan was going to be very little help, however. As he lost consciousness, his enduring question was: why, Adahy, why?

  Adahy eventually found Maedoc on the Eyrie's roof. As Magpie Kings were wont to do, he was perched on the roof edge, still in full ceremonial garb, peering out to the forest.

  "There you are, my friend. Your task was performed well, and it bore tasteful fruit."

  Maedoc did not turn to look at his king, but answered in a gravelly voice. "I take it you liked what you saw then?"

  "Yes, I did. She is terrified, poor girl, and very alone. But she has a good wit about her, and a keen mind."

  "Quite the looker too, I imagine."

  Adahy could not help but give an embarrassed grin. "Well, it was hard to say with all that gear on her, but I did fancy the look of those lips."

  "Her father is very proud of her, you know. Says he has had suitors from all five peoples chasing after her to be their new queen. None of them have a Magpie King though. None that can do this." With that, Maedoc threw himself up into the air, feathered cloak whistling softly in the wind. Anyone with lesser eyes would have lost sight of him as he disappeared into the night, but Adahy could spy him in the air high above, eventually descending to the roof slightly behind him.

  "Now there are two of us, my friend. Think of what this could mean for the future of our people. Two with the power of the Magpie Spirit, now that you have become accustomed to your condition. We shall talk about this later. Now I should return to the gathering, in your place."

  Maedoc cocked his head at this. "And what for me? Should I return in your place, and serve the princess some more wine?"

  Adahy looked uncomfortable. "I think rest would be the best option for you, my friend. You have taken quite a large step today."

  "No, I suppose that would be a bad idea. Pretty princesses do not want to look at faces such as mine, do they? In fact, would I have been able to get into your party without this mask? It would turn people's stomachs just to look at me."

  "Not so," Adahy reprimanded. "Many of the Corvae serving tonight carry marks of conflict, and bare them with pride. We have won a great victory against an old enemy, but it has not been without a price."

  "So, it is to be a servant again then."

  "I am sorry, my friend?"

  "A servant. I am still a servant to you."

  Adahy looked lost. "You… Maedoc, we have always been close friends, you and I. My closest, and that is no secret. My friends shall be rewarded."

  "But still a servant. Despite powers such as these," and with that he tore a slate off the roof and threw it into the distance. "I remain a servant to the king and his nobles."

  "Maedoc, this is how it has always been. Mine is a line traced deep into history. We are the true Corvae, the nobles of our people. We were of the forest long before the villagers came, escaping the disintegration of the world outside. This is not something you can earn, despite your new gifts."

  Maedoc was silent for a while, and then spoke again. "What do you know of my parents?"

  Adahy paused. "Little. Nothing, if I am honest. You have never spoken of them."

  "That is because I’ve nothing to tell. I never knew them, you see. I’ve always lived here at the Eyrie, at the whim of your father."

  "Yes..." Adahy was not sure where any of this was going, and was beginning to regret encouraging Maedoc to leave his cell. Clearly the young man’s mind still had some paths to walk on the journey to recovery.

  "But I heard of them. Not from your father, however. Not from a noble. It was a kitchen maid. I had spent the evening trying to seduce her, and her final excuse was she didn't want a traitor's son putting a babe in her belly."

  "I don't understand."

  "My parents, you see, they were traitors. Involved in a village uprising not long after we would have been born. I don't know what exactly was involved, but I do know my family's lives were the price. My parents lost theirs, and I was to give mine to the Eyrie."

  "I had no idea, Maedoc. I am sorry."

  "So you see, I’m not really a servant. I haven’t really been your friend all of these years. I’m a slave. Brought into this noble house to be beaten when the young prince was bad."

  "Think about what you are saying, Maedoc. To claim that we are not friends is madness."

  "When I saw you tonight, with that princess, it made me realise I’ll never have a woman like that. Despite how close we have been in our lives. Despite the power we both share. My place in life and my face mean I shall be taking the scrapings of the barrel from the palace servants, if I am lucky."

  "I'm sorry, what? This is about the princess now?" Adahy was losing track of the flow of conversation.

  "Did she like the look of your face?"

  "I - I have no idea. How would I even-"

  "Did she know it was you?"

  "No. I mean, I don't think-"

  "What about her father? Does he approve of your looks? Your face?"

  "Maedoc. By the Great Spirit. What I look like has nothing to do with this."

  "Does he approve?"

  "He has not seen me, Maedoc, you know that. Tradition. Now-"

  "Nobody?"

  "What are you talking about?"

  "None of the Owls have seen your face? To approve what their princess is looking forward to?"

  "No, I-"

  "Excellent." With a flick of his wrist, Maedoc buried one of his sickles into Adahy's right eye, splitting the skin across his face.

  The young king, motionless, remaining eye open wide in shock as the functions of his brain died, was drawn close to his attacker with a fist tightly gripping the servant's tunic he still wore.

  "Long live the King," the Magpie King whispered, and then threw Adahy's thoughtless body off the roof, down the cliff face to be wrecked on the forest floor far below.

  An extract from the teachings of the High Corvae.

  Under the rule of the Magpie King, the forest flourished. The darkness of the spider and the Wolves was kept at bay. Allies were made with the Lions and Owls. Others were kept under control, either through fear or military force. All remained good under the powerful gaze of the Magpie King, good and unchanging, until the outsiders arrived.

  They came in small groups at first. Sometimes a couple, sometimes an individual, once or twice an entire family. They would be found hunting game or gathering fruit, often doing their best to piece together some kind of dwelling in the depths of the woods. Each time the sight of the Magpie King would send the outsiders fleeing to the forest borders, but each time the king grew more disturbed at the sight of these new people. They were unlike the Corvae in so many ways. Most importantly, they clearly had no comprehension of how to live in the forest. Th
e largest groups in particular used their resources wastefully, felling dozens of trees for lumber that could have been provided by just a handful, or by allowing some fruits to rot on the vine instead of taking the time to gather them when they had ripened.

  The Leone and Muridae experienced these incursions too, but paid them less heed than the Magpie King did. The Muridae worried them away from their lands, deceiving them or frightening them until they were pushed from the grassland borders. The Lions were more direct in the expulsion of the strangers from the mountains.

  "They fear us now, and are right to do so," Reoric had boasted to the Magpie King when last they met. "You should do the same, my friend. They are a desperate people. Some disaster befell them, an empire crumbled, and their people no longer have the strength they once possessed. There is nobody now to protect them from the world, and they seek to hide from those who would take advantage of their plight. Best to send them a message, set them running, before you invite their troubles to your doorstep.”

  But this added knowledge of the outsiders' woes weighed heavily on the Magpie King's mind. Although the strangers continued to flee at the sight of him, this was no longer his purpose. He merely wished to observe, as he came to a decision.

  Then it came to be that the outsiders grouped themselves together and forced their way into the forest as one. They numbered the size of a great army, although there were just as many children and elderly among them as there were fit women and men. Few warriors walked with them, and although most of the adults were armed, many of those weapons took the form of crude clubs or sharpened farming equipment. However, the sheer weight of their numbers was enough to allow them to push further into the heart of the forest than they had before. They burned fires to protect themselves and thought little of the danger this could pose in the dry woodland. The Magpie King watched their progress with great interest, intervening to protect the forest from their flames or to protect the outsiders from any threats that were naturally drawn towards the din they created.

  Their march ended upon reaching the shrine of the Great Magpie. The host of outsiders stood in awe of that great structure so deep in the forest, and looked with fear upon the Magpie Guard sentries that remained silent and unmoving at their posts outside of the temple. It was when the bravest of the outsiders stepped forth to challenge the guards that the Magpie King took it upon himself to intervene, dropping to the forest floor to stand between his people and the invaders.

  The one who had stepped forward was a tall woman, who hefted a large iron blade before her. "Stay back, monster. We shall harm you if you approach any further."

  "I am no monster," the Magpie King replied. "I mean you no harm."

  Another stepped from the crowd, this time a handsome man with no weapons of note, simply a backpack slung over his shoulder. He wore a sly grin, and his quick mind was working hard to turn this situation in his own favour. "There are many of us, and we have nowhere left to turn. Leave this land now, for we claim it as our own."

  "That I cannot do," came the Magpie King's response. "This land, this forest, was gifted to us by the Great Magpie. I watch over it and protect it for our people."

  "Us?" came the question from the clever stranger's lips. As if on cue, the branches rustled above the heads of the assembled outsiders, betraying the host of Magpie Guard that lay perched above them, armed and ready to pounce.

  Overcome with exhaustion, the woman threw herself at the feet of the Magpie King, much to the disgust of her companion. "Spare us, please," she pleaded. "We have nowhere left to go. We cannot stay in the lands of our fathers - they are overrun with bandits and raiders which we have no power to protect ourselves from. Everywhere we turn, we are forced out or killed by all manner of beasts - snakes, owls, wolves, lions, even mice. We simply wish for, simply need somewhere to call our own again. Somewhere to live in safety."

  The Magpie King put a sympathetic hand on the woman's shoulder, feeling her shudder in fear at his gentle touch. "I am afraid the forest has not been your best choice for sanctuary. This is a dangerous place, as dangerous a place as there must be on this world. It will not allow you to stay here in peace. Dark things will seek to feed on you and force you from its borders. You will find no rest here."

  The woman looked up at the Magpie King and met his dark eyes with hers, so filled with desperation and hope. "Then protect us, please. Let us join with you, become your people. Rule over us and keep us safe. Let us live again."

  The handsome man, some steps behind, scowled at her words, but like all others gathered there he held his tongue, awaiting the king's response.

  The Magpie King did not speak for some time. He stood, hand on the woman's shoulder, thinking. "I could accept you," he finally announced, "but my charge was made very clear to me by the Great Magpie. I have these gifts to protect my people, the Corvae, from life in the forest. It is not my acceptance you seek, but that of the Great Magpie."

  The handsome man laughed at the announcement, but the woman remained serious.

  "How may I do that?" she queried forcefully. "Show me this Magpie so I may entreat him as well."

  The Magpie King gestured behind him, to the silent temple with its half-open door.

  The woman stood and made to walk towards the building, but found herself stopped by her companion.

  "It is a trap," the clever man warned her. "A giant magpie? There is no such thing. We do not have to dance to this tune. We must outnumber them greatly."

  "Even if that were true, what cost would come with those actions?" she retorted. "I am tired, we all are, and peace could finally be in our grasp."

  Ignoring her companion's unceasing scowls, she pulled from his grasp and entered the dark portal of the temple.

  Both parties restlessly awaited her return. The outsiders stood in agitation, sharpening their blades and moving their weak and young away from any overhead rustling. The Magpie King and his guard stood in silence. After an hour of night had passed, a white figure glided to the king's side, causing a new commotion to rise from the ranks of the strangers.

  "I do not trust them," spoke the Magpie King's wife. "There is anger and deceit here. We do not want this in our forest."

  The King stood with his bride and surveyed the outsiders. "Yes, they bring much ill with them, but strength and selflessness as well. Look at the large families huddled together. Most of those children do not share the same parents, but yet they are cared for. How could I be the one to send them back out into the world?"

  His wife did not reply, but her eyes saw not only the goodness of the people. She also spied the pickpockets, the liars, the adulterers. She felt fear.

  Finally, the tall woman exited the temple, exhausted and gasping for breath.

  "What took you so long?" the handsome outsider barked at her. "What happened in there?"

  She did not answer him, but instead turned to speak with the king. "It spoke to me," she began, in a voice saturated with awe. "It will have us, despite our flaws, if we pass three tests. One of strength, one of trust, and one of love."

  The Magpie King nodded. "Will you attempt these tests for your people?"

  The woman met his eyes with a look of pure fear, but then hardened herself and nodded her acceptance.

  The following day was the day of strength. As the sun peered over the horizon, it illuminated a tall cliff that stood behind the temple. From their make-shift tents the most eagle-eyed outsiders could just make out a castle at the top of the cliff.

  "The test of strength," the Magpie King directed the outsider woman. "You must climb this cliff, and arrive at my home before nightfall. Otherwise, you all must depart this forest."

  "It is a trick," the sly stranger warned her. "Look at the size of that rock - this is an impossible task. Come away now. There are other ways to win this forest."

  But the tall woman ignored her companion and steeled herself for the climb ahead. When the sunlight finally made its way to the forest floor, she threw herself at the r
ock face and began to climb. At first, it seemed as if the man had spoken truthfully - this climb did indeed appear to be impossible. However, fingers and feet found previously untouched crevices, and by mid day, she had climbed higher than the majority of the outsiders could see.

  A small party of the Corvae and outsiders made their way to the top of a winding path that was the main route to the Magpie King’s castle. There they waited, but the woman did not arrive. Afternoon came and went, and evening began to fall, the yellow orb of the sun sheltering beneath the treetops. The outsiders began to despair, and the Magpie King took it upon himself to scale down the cliff to locate the stranger.

  He found her, eventually, sheltered beneath an overhang that blocked her path. She was rigid with fear, and exhausted from her exertion. "I have failed," she moaned, softly. "I have failed them."

  "You have not failed, sister," the Magpie King assured her, brushing a lock of hair out of her eyes and guiding the mouth of his water skin to her lips. "Your companions are not far above us now, but evening threatens to fall. Retreat a few paces, and then begin your ascent in a new direction. You will be in their arms again soon."

  She gave a nod of thanks, and followed his instructions. As the last light of the day fell, her hand came over the edge of the cliff to grasp that of the Magpie King. The trial of strength had been passed.

  The next day was the day of trust. The Magpie King brought the woman to a wild part of the forest, where thick bushes with needles the size of knives grew in great thickets.

  "The razor-trees are as sharp as any sword," the Magpie King explained, "and any brush up against them will mark you for life." To demonstrate, he gently rubbed a green apple along one of the nearby protrusions. The fruit fell apart in his hands.

  "However," he warned, "this is not the greatest threat. The thorns also carry a deadly poison that will give you a swift, if not agonising, death." All outsiders recoiled from the plants at this information.

  "Your challenge," the Magpie King continued, "is to travel from one end of this thicket to the other. Blindfolded."