How long had it been since she was last at the Autumn Court, fifty years? No, maybe it was closer to one hundred. No matter, Vel was excited to properly visit the court. When times were uneventful and days blended together it was too easy to lose track of the years. It would be nice to break the monotony - enjoy the fine foods, see new faces, and observe how things have changed over the years. Being inside the court was also likely to trigger visions, which would be helpful considering she had nothing of substance to tell Beron, the High Lord of Autumn.
Beron had summoned her. It was not unusual for a High Lord to invite her to court. She was a Seer and one of the oldest beings to walk Prythian. Her political advice was highly valued. But Beron had never called for her. The few times she’d been to Autumn since his coronation were shrouded in secrecy. He had sent his sons away to the borders on various missions and dismissed all his servants and advisors. They’d only met furtively to discuss her visions in his private study and the moment that was done she was ushered away like a thief in the night.
She could barely remember Beron from before he was High Lord. That must have been some five hundred years ago. Or was it six hundred? Maybe her old age was finally catching up to her. She did remember him as a quiet and calculated youth, the exact opposite of his sly and vicious older brother or the rowdy and arrogant younger one. Beron had been shrewd. He let his brothers underestimate him. He gathered allies secretly, making promises to other heirs who were looking for support in their own claims to their courts. All while his brothers fought over their father’s favor. The same favor which earned them the honor of being at the head of Autumn’s army during the War, the left and right hand of the High Lord of Autumn. And when that army was caught between Spring and Hybern, Beron and his allies were just a few hours too late to save them — a tragic turn of events that led to the coronation of a new High Lord of Autumn.
Yet, that same scheming that had won him the throne had turned Beron paranoid and unpleasant over the years. It was to be expected considering he had sired seven sons who had all allegedly inherited his aptitude for politics and subterfuge.
Vel would be prepared for anything. But for now, she could just spread her wings, and enjoy the breeze ruffling her feathers, the clear skies all around, the endless forests, the crisp air. She could have winnowed there, but there was nothing like flying in her animal form, letting her senses roam free.
Slowly, the Forest House came into view - a sprawling complex of buildings constructed in and around trees, rocks, and streams. The gray stone of the buildings blended into the mountain below, the different wings separated by rapidly flowing waters, which gave way to steep waterfalls. Only the uppermost levels were visible above the ground, while most of the complex remained hidden under the stone.
The northern side of the house was protected by two layers of stone walls. The outer one marked the end of the wards protecting the Forest House. She was supposed to meet her escort there, but first, she would make sure no traps were waiting for her. She circled a few times and took inventory - a carriage, six guards and their horses grazing nearby. She landed on the top of the carriage, the five guards bearing Beron’s sigil paid her no mind as they chatted by the horses. The fifth High Fae, leaning against the side of the carriage, was undoubtedly one of Beron’s sons. His red hair was slicked back away from his face, making his sharp cheekbones stand out. He wore a neutral expression on his face, though the curve of his mouth betrayed that he was more prone to scowling rather than smiling. He seemed lost in thought, polishing a fancy jeweled dagger with a small whetstone.
As Vel watched, she gently pushed into his mind. This was Eris, the eldest of the High Lord’s sons. She wandered the hallways of his mind. He’d had some training against Daemati, she noted, his mind palace was a maze. Though lavishly decorated, with large braziers burning on each side, the space felt cold and unwelcoming. She watched his thoughts flit by. He was calculating, considering what a Seer could do for his cause, if she could be swayed from Beron’s side. She spied a heavy mahogany door to the side, an invitation to pry further that she couldn’t resist. But as she approached she felt something shift, the braziers flickered almost imperceptibly. Vel flinched and pulled back, just as the fire swallowed everything and the walls of Eris’s mind came up.
She came back to herself. Amber eyes stared back at her from below. “What a rare sight, an owl in the middle of the day,” Eris sneered. From the corner of her eyes, she saw the glint of metal in the sunlight, and then the jeweled dagger flew past her face. A near miss only made possible by the slightest spring breeze she sent out at the last moment. She flapped her wings and hooted indignantly. A flurry of feathers and she was back up in the air. Luckily for her, no arrows followed.
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It was definitely not the first impression she had aimed for, she thought as she transformed back into her High Fae form in the safety of the forest. Without the feathers and down, the cold immediately started seeping into her bones. She wished she’d worn more layers or at least brought some gloves.
She adjusted her robe - a thick, black swath of velvet that swallowed her body. Delicate gold chains with ornate designs adorned the edges of her silhouette, from the shoulders to the hems. A heavy hood hung down over her face, a built-in cloth panel covering her eyes and most of her nose. The robe, a gift from a very old friend, made her look more Other than Fae. The Oracle, the Voice of the Cauldron. A being to be feared, worshiped, and, most importantly, listened to. She found the whole outfit a tad excessive, and all the material made it difficult to move freely. Still, preserving her anonymity and giving credulity to her words was unfortunately more important than her ability to dance or ride horses. She smoothed her robes one last time and pulled on her hood to assure herself that nothing was out of place, before winnowing to the northern gate.
Her escorts stood where she’d left them as if nothing had happened – the guards by the horses talking among each other, Eris by the carriage once again sharpening his dagger. Upon seeing her they all bowed low. Eris gave her a courtier’s smile, but she could read the suspicion in his eyes. She blushed under the intensity of his gaze, which gave her a newfound appreciation for the cloth panel covering her face. Her warm cheeks were rather due to shame from how hard she fumbled her little incursion earlier. How had he even known that she was there? She was not some untested pupil on her first incursion into someone’s head. There would be no answers today. His walls were up, solid gray stone.
“Welcome to the Autumn Court, Oracle.” Eris’ face was pleasant, his amber eyes once again unreadable - a male used to wearing many masks, she noted. “My name is Eris Vanserra, eldest son of the High Lord and General of Autumn’s armies. It will be my honor to escort you to the Forest House.” He gestured to her with a flourish, his hand outstretched.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, please call me Vel.” Not her given name, but that one was a few thousand years out of fashion, and while she could handle wearing her little costume and playing her part, she loathed being referred to by her title. It was a constant reminder that she was, in fact, Other and not Fae, that she did not belong with them.
“The pleasure is mine, lady Vel.”
She took his outstretched hand, his fingers incredibly warm despite the frigid wind blowing around them and she let out a sigh at the pleasant heat. Autumn Court males had fire in their veins, she remembered. Eris cocked an eyebrow. She had been away from court for too long, her manners needed some polishing.
“I am glad to be here, the travel has been most tiring.” Eris didn’t seem to buy it but he didn’t push further and instead led her to the carriage. A stone-faced guard held the door open as she climbed in, mindful of the robe that attempted to trip her with every step up. Once nestled inside, Eris followed her in, closing the door.
She had counted the horses from above earlier, so she knew he had come to the northern gate by horse. It seemed he would try to extract as much information as possible while they had some privacy before they both entered the den of foxes. She was almost giddy with excitement. No matter that her courtier skills were rusty, political intrigue was always fun to unravel.
The road to the Forest House was short, so she spared Eris the effort of finding a good conversation starter. “I am delighted to be back in the Autumn Court, but it’s especially intriguing to be able to meet Beron’s sons.”
“Indeed, it was most upsetting to come back to the House and to hear from my contacts that we had just missed each other. For some reason, this time, my father sent none of us away. Do you have an idea why that could be?” Eris leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, a sly smile gracing his lips. He’d given a small piece of information and was expecting one back in return.
“I’m sorry to disappoint you but I’m unaware of his intentions. All I can tell you is that this is the first time he has sent for me. A strange thing to do as I do not have much of import to tell.” She folded her hands in her lap, in an attempt to warm her fingers again.
Eris leaned back dissatisfied and ran a hand through his hair, smoothing a few stray strands away from his face. “Can you not see his intentions?”
“There are many caveats to my gift of foresight. Amongst them is that I cannot see my own future, or those intertwined with mine.” It kept life interesting enough but it also prevented her from getting too close to others, lest she wouldn’t be able to protect them anymore—a gift and a curse, like everything in her life.
She let Eris ruminate over his thoughts and turned away to watch the forest outside. Her comment from earlier had not been a lie – it was indeed delightful to be in the Autumn Court. It was unbefitting of her to pick favorites, but the Autumn, with its vivid colors and raw beauty, held a special place in her heart.
The carriage came to a halt, Eris hopped out and extended his arm for her once more. His mind seemed far away as he led her inside the Forest House without a word.