Faerie's Champion

by M. H. Johnson

Angelica shrugged and sighed. "I am sorry, Jess. Whenever I awake, I find ever more mirrors in my lair. I know not where they come from, or why." She looked thoughtful for a moment, slithering through her pile, gently placing before Jess several mirrors of surpassing craftsmanship. Jess felt an odd chill upon finding one handle etched with the image of a wolf, the other a badger. “Perhaps these will do? I only came across them recently. As much as I loathe them, it is like all the mirrors are somehow linked to me. I know where each of them is, what they look like, and when they became part of my, well I guess you could call it horde.”

  Jess shivered and paused in the middle of reaching for the two mirrors, momentarily frozen with a thoughtful look upon her face as she gazed carefully at Angelica, her mind racing. “It really is you, and I sense you bear no malice toward me, whatsoever. If I were to put a word on it, what you are feeling is a mixture of dread and desperate hope.”

  The creature blinked, looking even more uncomfortable than before. "Well, yes. I would think that would be obvious. My life is pretty much in your hands. Oh gods, now I remember why I find you so annoying!" She flashed a hideous smile then. "I'm just kidding. Please don't be cross with me, Jess," the monster hissed worriedly.

  Jess shook her head as she accepted the two mirrors. “No, Angelica, I'm not cross. I was just hit with a sudden thought.”

  Twilight grinned. “Did it knock any sense into you?”

  "Ha ha, Twilight. Seriously. Let's think on it. This Soren fellow has shown himself to be rotten to the core. Even when he thought to have you completely wrapped around his finger, he still had a bitter end planned for your tale. He had wanted you to give the mirror to him of your own volition, but you were smart enough to think to spy upon him before doing so, witnessing his intention to twist his promise such that achieving the very attraction you desired would have cost you your very life, thereby giving you your wish in the worst possible way, killing you in a very pretty fashion. And to punish you for seeing through his ploy, he made you as hideous as he possibly could, without killing you." Jess turned to her familiar. "Do you understand where I'm going with this, Twilight?"

  Her familiar nodded slowly. “There is an arcane connection between the Mirror of Truth, Angelica, and this Soren character. He won’t have perfect control over it as he was not ceded full rights to it. And though Angelica did technically steal it and must bear the weight and obligation of that wrongdoing, apparently within the laws of Faerie, that curse or obligation won’t pass on to the individual to whom a gift, perhaps any gift, is freely given to, no matter how it was originally obtained. Clever. And sneaky.”

  Jess nodded. "And note how he taunts her at times through the mirror. Definitely a connection there. Perhaps if she dies without freely giving it to anyone, mystic rights pass back to the Queen. Or something like that."

  Twilight shrugged. “Perhaps. We are at a significant disadvantage, since we are not in our element with these faerie magics of obligation, and can’t sense how these charms are constructed in the first place.”

  Jess sighed. "That is a problem. But notice how Soren used Angelica's wrongdoing as a pretext to cast that rather nasty spell upon her. I wonder if fae magic works on acceptance, obligation, and retribution. An art that lets you trick your opponent into making a wrong move, but you can't necessarily compel them into surrendering or gifting something to you by cursing or charming them directly. Perhaps free will is needed for a gift to count as such, and magics of acceptance and obligation don't work if someone was forcefully compelled. And perhaps as well, when a promise is made it must be kept, such as the promise to transform Angelica so that she would be desired by all men. The fact that being transformed into gold would effectively kill her didn't matter, as long as the promise would have been kept. Soren had to adhere to the letter of his promise, even if he had cruelly twisted the intent."

  “An interesting hypothesis we have developed here as to the workings of faerie magic,” Twilight purred. “Then perhaps this Soren seeks to wear her down, and will eventually promise her a quick death if she surrenders all rights to the mirror to him of her own free will.”

  Jess grinned happily. "Brilliant deduction, Twilight. I think we figured it out. You would hardly think that without Eloquin's intervention, I would have been kicked out of Highrock that very first semester." A beaming Jess turned to face Angelica once again.

  “Angelica? If you are comfortable doing so, if you can trust that I value my word and do want to help you, I believe I know something that might help us. But it requires an act of trust at your end. An act of faith. You have to believe in my good will towards you, or it won’t work at all.”

  Curious, Angelica nodded for Jess to continue.

  Jess took a deep breath. “I would like for you to consider granting rights to that mirror you took, that Mirror of Truth Soren values so highly, to me. Freely and of your own volition. For no other reason than that you think me an honorable girl who will do her best to stop an evil man from following through with his schemes.”

  Angelica blinked. “Are you serious?” She laughed. “On the one hand, it would be just brilliant if this were some convoluted trap of Soren's, you just an illusion, perhaps him in some disguise, or his vile harlot of a partner, wanting to trick me. I’m at least clever enough to consider that, my dear Soren, or Jess, or whoever you are.”

  Her smile then became such a bitter, sorrowful thing that Jess turned away, unable to bear seeing such raw pain as was painted upon Angelica's features.

  "But do you know what?" Angelica said softly, "if you are here to trick me and fool me one last time, or are indeed Jess, as if come from the Heavens to save me from this horrible fate for which I have only myself to blame, and after I was so mean to you, well, either way, the mirror is yours. Because if you are Jess, then may the angels above bless you, I will have never have had a truer friend. And if you are that monster Soren, please just kill me and end these horrible games!"

  As hideous a beast as she had become, Angelica’s sobs were those of a devastated child, no monster at all. Yet when next she spoke, her voice resonated with a sonorous intensity that caused the very ground to shake once more with the weight of her words.

  “Jessica de Calenbry, I grant you, of my own volition, all rights and privileges to that mirror I had claimed, The Mirror of Truth. I give it to you in good faith, and hope only that if there is evil associated with its use, you will put an end to it.”

  Jess took a deep breath and nodded solemnly at Angelica. “I will do you proud, Angelica, you will see.”

  For all its grotesqueness, there was a lightness to Angelica's gaze that touched Jess’s heart, so sincere was the monstrous girl’s hope.

  “I could tell it was you, you know,” Angelica said softly.

  Jess gazed at her curiously. “How could you be sure?”

  “Because when you saw the pain in my eyes, you couldn’t bear it. And somehow, you found the courage to touch, even to hug my hideous form. An act that these Lords of Faerie, so concerned as they seem to be with their own beauty, would have been loath to do.” She smiled then, and hideous as it was, Jess was struck by something pure, something transcending mere physical looks. “Your heart is true, Jessica de Calenbry. Yours is a noble spirit, and I thank the angels above that you would seek to help me in my most desperate hour.”

  Jess grinned. “I still hate dresses, you know.”

  Angelica laughed, hideous and beautiful all at once. “I swear to you, Jess, I will never make fun of your attire, ever again. For you wear it far more nobly than any man who would think to rescue me, only to run in terror or strike me with his blade, convinced that the ugliness without is a reflection of my soul within.”

  Jess sobbed and hugged the monstrous creature before her, at a sudden loss for words.

  45

  “What was that comment regarding dresses about?” Twilight asked curiously sometime after they had left the cave.

  Jess shrugged and sighed. “I don’t kno
w, Twilight. She was giving me so much credit. Here was this girl, who had utterly loathed me for so long, now looking at me as if I was a saint come down to give her my blessing. It made me feel… uncomfortable. Totally unworthy. I am just doing the honorable thing. No girl should have to suffer the way she is, and after that monster took her virtue and broke her heart! Oh, how I hate that Soren.”

  Twilight nodded. “At least you gave her a good chuckle.”

  Jess smiled, remembering the tears of mirth and slime dripping from that poor creature’s eyes after they had held each other, Angelica declaring Jess more noble, beautiful, wonderful, and absurd than any knight or jester could ever hope to be.

  “I’m not sure if being called beautifully absurd is a compliment, but I’ll go with it.”

  Twilight grinned. “I think it is quite apropos, myself.”

  Jess stuck her tongue out at her cat.

  “Exactly my point. So having, we hope, gained some mystical connection or authority over this Mirror of Truth, are you having any intuitive flashes as to its whereabouts?”

  Jess shrugged. “Not particularly, but anything that throws a loose horseshoe into the gears of that bastard Soren's plans works for me, I say.”

  “Ah. It is just that you are walking with such purpose.”

  "Yes. I have to return these mirrors to farmer Roundacre and Mayor Goodwin, after all. And as this is Faerie, where choice seems to be as important as direction, perhaps returning these mirrors to their rightful owners will start us down the correct path to returning Angelica to her rightful form.”

  Twilight shrugged. "Fair enough, my Jess, and if my eyes do not deceive, I do believe that is Mister Wolf up ahead. Or at least, one of his brothers."

  Mister Wolf, or farmer Roundacre as he called himself, appeared nothing short of ecstatic upon receiving his much-coveted mirror from a solemn Jess. "Thank you, brave knight. Thank you ever so much!"

  The bundle of fur that soon resolved itself into a group of happy looking bipedal sheep, straw hats only somewhat askew and smelling of apple brandy much like the wolfish clan of Roundacres did, all nodded in emphatic agreement. "Yes, thank you ever so much, noble knight! Our dear cousins' mirror has been recovered, a quest completed, misunderstandings resolved, and now we can finally take the time to build our homes out of brick!"

  “Indeed,” nodded a fellow sheep solemnly. “Now that we Applegroves no longer have to worry about our homes getting blown down, 'tis high time we took the time to make them proper.”

  The Roundacres nodded solemnly. “Of a certain, cousins, with our mirror returned and misunderstandings soothed with your fine apple brandy, you need not worry about our discontent. Still, why you would want your home made completely out of brick is beyond me. Straw is far more comfortable to sleep on!”

  The sheep sighed. "'Tis true, cousin Roundacre. Who wants to sleep on a bed of stone? And no insulation for the winter months? Perish the thought. Dependable straw it shall be, once again." All the sheep baaed in agreement.

  Jess blinked, fighting mightily hard to resist the urge to discuss the merits of differing architectural approaches, or indeed the simple premise that not everything in a residence had to be constructed of but one material.

  Twilight just shook his head solemnly. “Believe me, Jess. That’s asking for a nettle of complications we don’t really need right now.”

  Jess grimaced and nodded. "Indeed, it pleases me and my noble familiar greatly to know that we were able to be of aid to you all, Applegroves and Roundacres alike. Now that the source of your mutual distress has been alleviated, perhaps we could trouble you with a question or two of our own?"

  "By all means, Dame Calenbry! Ask away!" The leader of the coven of wolves insisted, his sheep cousins also nodding in agreement.

  “Well, I don’t suppose any of you have heard tell of an artifact called the Mirror of Truth?”

  And as if a curtain had suddenly been dropped at the end of a rousing play, the group of strange upright beasts grew utterly silent, turning their heads in slow, eerie unison as one to lock gazes with Jess, eyes aglow with the light of a full moon.

  Jess blinked, feeling a shiver of apprehension, slowly stepping away as her hand subtly shifted to her sword hilt.

  “The Mirror of Truth.” Eerily the words resonated from the mouths of the wolves, all speaking in unison.

  “The breaker of deception.” The sheep baaed in counterpoint.

  “The Queen’s heart.”

  “That which reveals darkness most hidden.”

  “Burning all blight in sacrifice's light.”

  And just as quickly the strange moment passed, the upright wolves and sheep acting much as they had been before.

  “And what would you be wanting with an artifact such as that?” asked the wolfish speaker casually, his sheep counterpart nodding.

  "'Tis said to be a reflection of the queen's own heart, that which keeps our kingdom in balance," the closest sheep added. "With it, she can see any who would stray from the path set before them."

  The wolves shivered as one. “'Tis a terrible thing, to think one would willingly stray from the path.”

  The sheep all nodded solemnly. “To stray from the path is to stray from the truth of one’s very soul.”

  Jess blinked. “You mean if one were to just… walk off the path upon which we stride even now, we would somehow warp ourselves?”

  The wolf leader blinked, tilting his head as he gazed upon Jess, his eyes far more discerning than they had been but minutes before when celebrating the recovery of their mirror. “Not precisely, noble one. It is to stray from the path of one’s soul. 'Tis a horrible thing that wrecks and distorts the very nature of one’s being.” All the animals shivered in unspoken sympathy.

  “I see,” Jess said softly. “And how would one go about finding this mirror, should one seek it?”

  The sheep and wolves gazed at each other in bemusement before bursting out in laughter. “Why, lady knight, surely you jest! How could any soul as brave and noble as your own not know the answer to that?”

  The head of the Applegrove clan shook his head fondly. “Dear knight, the answer to that question is as obvious as breathing! Yes? The mirror resides in the queen’s own palace, of course. How could it be otherwise?”

  “Indeed,” concurred the head of the Roundacre clan, flashing Jess a wolfish smile. “One has but to pursue the path of truth to feel the mirror’s call.”

  "Precisely," concurred the sheep spokesman. "'Tis said any knight truly worthy of serving the queen shall embark upon quests of courage and virtue. Should said knight arise victorious, they will feel the calling deep in their hearts. And before they know it, their feet shall compel them upon the path that leads to the queen's own doorstep!"

  “True. Very true that, dear Applegrove,” the head wolf concurred.

  With much heartfelt thanks and offers to return one day for a feast in their honor, Jess and Twilight found themselves waving farewell to the farmers, heading back toward the town of Flowersbend to return the second lost mirror. Perhaps, Jess hoped, the town residents might be able to shed further insights as to the whereabouts of the Mirror of Truth.

  "Hmm. Their advice to follow the calling of our hearts does us little good if it pertains only to faerie knights performing acts of virtue and goodness, bound by arcane laws only they can sense," Jess noted while contemplatively stroking her familiar's lush fur.

  "True," A purring Twilight concurred. "And if making the virtuous choices so as to always stay upon the correct path really just means to follow the main road towards the palace, the advice does us little good, as Angelica stole the mirror, removing it from the palace entirely. Unless for some strange reason Soren returned the mirror to the palace, we would have nothing to go on."

  "It makes all the more sense why that faerie had seduced and tricked Angelica to do his bidding," Jess said. "Perhaps only a mortal human is sufficiently severed from the constraints of compulsion and fate that bind these c
reatures to their assigned roles. Or perhaps the discord of straying from their path, so to speak, is so painful that they cannot bear it for long. And as we have surmised, it seems that should one trick another party without magical compulsion, enticing them to break one of these arcane constraints, then that puppet alone is punished for the deed, the puppeteer apparently unscathed. Yet all faeries must keep their word once given even if, as Angelica showed us, a promise can be twisted to dark ends."

  Twilight chuckled softly. “To be tied to all oaths given, yet free to give one's fellows all the rope they need to hang themselves with their own words. Now who does that remind you of, my queen?”

  Jess grimaced and shook her head. “The Fallen, of course. Yet this place is nothing like our forays into the darker pits of Shadow. Absolutely nothing stinks of the infernal, and those vile magics I can sense glowing brilliantly upon the ether, unlike the enchantments of this land.”

  Twilight gave a thoughtful nod, the pair ruminating as they made their way back to the heart of the town of Flowersbend, the occasional furry countenances of villagers to be seen surreptitiously peeking out from their grass and wildflower covered mounds they called their village. Jess and Twilight were greeted by an increasing number of hopeful looking faces before they found themselves surrounded by a rather large crowd of furry, upright villagers as they made their way to what apparently passed for the town square, all gently hushed by Mayor Goodwin, who then turned about to face Jess as the villager's representative, his beady eyes gazing upon that which Jess held with fervent hope.

  The badger then bowed low before a bemused Jess, holding up what looked to be an exquisitely filigreed chest of lead, so tiny as to fit in the palm of his hand, before ceremoniously placing it in a fine bag of finest silk the color of snow. "Warmest greetings to she whose secrets I have kept safe and tight in my box of solemn vows! Do my eyes deceive me with the strength of my hope, or have you indeed found our lost mirror?"

  Jess couldn’t help grinning with pleasure at having brought such happiness and delight to the crowd as she flourished the exquisitely crafted hand mirror now depicting so many of the present villagers carved upon its handle with a bow. “I believe this mirror belongs to you, Mayor Goodwin. May it give you and your townsfolk many hours of pleasure, and perhaps inspire you ever further in the pursuit of your own dreams, enjoying the daily pursuit of perfection as much as perfection itself.”