Fae I

From beneath the broad brimmed hat, green eyes scanned the cloudless salmon colored sky and while hands clinched. It could be done, a simple step forward and no looking back. It always haunted his mind; it would be much easier this way. Silent and bitter he did not cry, no that part was over, now it was just warring within that kept him from making the step. His ears pricked at the sounds of footsteps coming up from the trail behind him, the dense carpet of leaves disturbed by an unsteady gait.

“Your kin are looking for you; I thought that I might find you here.” The voice was short and huffing as the climb was a tedious one. The speaker was a small thin man who wore a simple brown hooded robe. He paused and stood silent waiting for Fae’s response.

Fae turned and looked at the thin man and grimaced while rubbing his stubble that peppered his chin. “So they sent you, the sickest, weakest and craziest old bastard they could fish up. I really appreciate their concern, but for the most part they can go to hell.”

“Fae!” the old man grasped the corners of the youth’s black leather coat, “Don’t speak of your kin in such a way. It will bring evil! They are your brothers!”

A sarcastic smirk came across his lips as Fae brushed away the elders hands, “I will go because you have came Daugh, they must have know that much. But the whole lot is worthless to me now. So let us make our trip down to Marrow so that I can be sport for them.”

The trip down the forested Marrow Mountain was a hazardous one and the old man took Fae’s elbow and was led down the crooked trail to the swampy basin where the Keep of Marrow was settled. They walked passed the crumbling outer walls of the forgotten construction, night had fallen and a slow rain had begun to wet the cobblestone of the courtyard. They come to the meeting house, built on the foundation of the old keep that had long fallen. Fae removed his hat and slumped down into an old wooden chair and glanced out at the gathering.

It was Fae’s kin, the brothers and their wives, children and a meager band of trusted servants. They where drinking, eating and making merry all which disgusted Fae. Old Daugh walked to announce Fae’s arrival to his brothers.

Balran was the oldest and keeper of the land, inherited when Fae’s father had passed. He was an impressive man with white hair and wore deep blue dress of a fine noble. He approached Fae and sat down beside him, placing a firm hand on his younger’s knee.

He looked to his young brother with mild amusement that hid well any concerns. It was a brilliant mask, one that most of them had learned to develop as it was custom. “Well ‘heavy’ I see that you have been out on a stroll. We looked for you at your quarters and wondered where you had departed to.”

Fae had the knife look as he responded with a mutter, “So what is it that I am needed for? You surely didn’t want me because I was simply missed.” Balran just shook his head slightly, “What makes you think we are unconcerned for your welfare? You always think so negatively. But I do need you to do something for our clan and you are the only one that could possibly accomplish it.”

Green eyes winced as they glanced at the white haired brother, “What is it? You know that I am incapable of anything useful. You have all seen my endeavors turn to shit. So what is so important that I must perform? Why can’t you have the others to do it? It is such a vile thing that you leave it to your pet failure? Your token lunatic?”

The older brother laughed slightly, “You know you’re the only one who sees that. The reason you were chose were because of your talents. Your brothers are men of war and you are a man of peace. They know how to wield axe, sword and lead others, but you have the gift of diplomacy and can read and write. That is what I need now, for the greater good of this clan.”

Fae was interested but very suspicious of what was being said. What could be so urgent that they had to use something as trivial as writing? “What is needed then? Let me know so that I can go out and get devoured or murdered…”

Bilran smiled, and placed his hand on his brother’s shoulders,” I knew that you could be counted. You are to travel east and deliver the family records and request to the minister of Chaill. From him you will gain further instruction. You are also to take the circlet and present it to him.” Fae watched as his brother handed him a thin mahogany box that was inscribed with runes and inlaid with an assortment of strange locks.

“So what is in the box that is worth my life?” Fae spoke with a hiss. His brother opened to reveal a small circlet of white jade. “So how long have we had this? The keep is sinking into the rot and we have treasure? What makes you think I won’t just take this trinket and vanish?” Fae crossed his arms as he looked on the intricate carvings of the strange bangle.

Bilran closed the box and handed it to his younger, “I know you…” Bilran said nothing more knowing that Fae would leave at first light. He knew his younger’s circumstances and could recognize the bitterness. He could only hope that it would pass.

Fae passed the others without words or looks, he disliked his clan strongly and to be isolated from them was a blessing and a curse. He did not have to deal with their ways, but he was very lonely and this made him see things with dark pessimism. Yes he would give into duty, but he wouldn’t have to be pleasant about it. Daugh caught up with him and escorted him to the remnants of a tower that was built into the decaying walls of Marrow keep. This small worn space was where Fae had chosen to dwell; it was basic without luxury and undecorated.

Daugh watched as Fae rambled and began to pack needed things into a traveling bag; a volumous thing with a strap to wield across the shoulder and back. “You will look after the place while I am gone wont you old man?” Fae mumbled as he placed the objects to be given to the minister into the bag. “I doubt that I will return, so I will simply leave it all to you. You have been somewhat of a friend and a pretty good teacher scribe. But the messenger’s travels always end in death, if not eaten or poisoned by animals, murdered by robbers, struck dead by fever or cursed by weather, the noble usually kills him for upsetting him with bad news. I always hope for the best…like getting sickness from a painted woman.”

Daugh chuckled at Fae’s enthusiasm “well just watch yourself and maybe you’ll be alright and do be wise enough to stay away from painted women. If you know the fruit is rotten why bite into it?”

Fae perked a brow, “Well old man that means a lot from someone who can’t bite fruit due to a lack of teeth and it is hard to persuade someone who is starving not to eat. But don’t worry about that too much. I don’t have a taste for anything that turns my lip inside out.”

The darkness was deep as Daugh left Fae to his preparations. With a grudge Fae fell back onto straw and hide pile that he called a bed. He glanced up into space with darker things racing to and fro, wishing he would have just taken one step.

How painful it was to him laying in silence and hearing nothing but the beating of the whispering heart. The head heavy on the pillow and the eyes closed all that is there is the scraping of the dead and evil being dragged to the forefront of ones thoughts. He turned angrily trying to snuff it all out but he could not fight them, the demons that taunted moments of twilight.

When the passage into slumber came, he was unaware of it, perception would say that he had not moved, that he remained where he lie.
But they came, both of them and Fae despised both spirits with equal zeal. They whispered his name, showed his failures and anxieties making commentary and giving council. The one in the green mist was feminine and the other a red vapor was most hateful and male. Their form was truly unknown as they swirled about him at times seeming to war against each other. At any route, Fae wished they would leave him in peace. It was so obvious to the sleeper that they were bidding for his sanity as well as his soul.

They began their course once again, the taunting and justification. The red vapor moved like a heat wave around him mocking, “You fucking idiot, why do you continue with this? We have discussed the remedy. We both know you’re a coward, but Fae is it so that you can not muster the courage to stop the game? It is so simple, it doesn’t have to be painful and you know this. Just a small deed and all deeds of the past will fade away. What does it matter? Do you think they will mourn for you? They hardly have time to speak to you unless it is something that concerns them…you are merely a footnote, a single noun in a page…nothing more, you are a word and words are replaced by others.”

The green mist whirled and churned as it spoke softly, “Ease is never guaranteed, do you think that you’re the only one who feels pain Fae? Can you comprehend that things have seasons? You will never know spring without winter…your heart, your life, these things aren’t just random…open your eyes. Patience Fae, love and happiness will return if you have the strength to bear the weights…believe and before you know it, someone will come and help you lift the burden.

The red vapor shimmered and growled like a mad animal, “Fae…do you take stock in this sewage that is being said? Love? What the fuck! You know what love is? It is a polite description of fornication. When have you seen love? Perhaps your mother showed you love…but she is dead and so for you love is dead. Evaluate every companion you have ever had. You see a common link? They lie with pleasant words to manipulate you and when the words are not so pleasant they use it like venom to poison your soul…You can not trust a single one. Love is like a tasty cake, lovely to look at and sweet in the mouth but after a while it becomes hard, stale and needs to be tossed out.”

Fae twisted in his blanket felt like he was being bound and struggled. These dream entities where holding him down and he grunted,” Go the fuck away, both of you…no ones words mean shit to me, least of all yours.” With that he awoke on the dirt floor of the tower soaked in sweat. He looked up to the sky, watercolor violet home of the gods and gritted his teeth. He stood brushing himself reaching for traveling bag and an old iron spear. He could barely fight the emotion of the battle, slinging bag over shoulder he took a deep breath and let out a tearless stifled sob. It would have been a better thing to die in ones sleep. Before the stirring of the villages or the biddings of farewell, Fae was on the eastern path.