Giant

Bones sleeping

Timeless magic creeping

Binds the soul

Immortal

IN A WHIRL, ALLORY met the pink Fae the scouts had seen, one Fakori Fae, a male Purewish Faerie from the Yarendrix Steppes, a poet and scholar with an otherworldly manner; four Scintillants, called Vartin, Kartan, Saritan and Izzini, three brofae and a sisfae from a single pupae-family who had also been captured by Marakusian Slavers. Passed on to the Faroon, they had been badly beaten and starved; several of the Chameleon warriors were already sharing nectar with them and treating their wounds. Allory promised to help just as soon as her extra glow would not give the whole game away. Last of the rescued group was Xiximay, a black Phoenix Fae with a wealth of body tattoos which glowed the same deep, ruddy orange as her hair. Allory imagined that she ate hot coals for breakfast. She certainly acted tough enough. Her unfamiliar, dark-Faesilk clothing smoked but never threatened to burn up.

“Sorry to break up the party,” Varzune called over, “but my brofae says we need to get ourselves organised and under cover.”

“Right he is,” Sabline purred. “I’ve stowed the two Elves. Allory Fae, can you check them when you have a chance?”

“Aye. Any other injuries?”

“Nothing serious that I know of, apart from our Scintillant friends,” Varzune said. “We took casualties, however.”

The atmosphere beneath the mildewed tarpaulin grew grim as he explained briefly that an Ormic Fae weapon of choice was magical disintegration bombs, which had slain three of their Chameleon companions. From Harzune’s forbidding expression, Allory knew he blamed himself. So did she. She had always known this mission might be costly, but when it came down to lives … no words sufficed. Gain some, lose others. Was this the cost of standing against evil?

Tears pricked her eyes. Someone should … say something?

How could she dance over creatures when nothing remained in her spirit for her to give? Allory struggled against her feelings, aghast that this time, it did not feel right to attempt a resurrection.

Surely this deficiency must be her fault.

Grievous.

A voice said, “Friends and Fae, we plan to pass through the Gates of Saradoom and make our way to the Elven realms in search of lore and aid.” Suddenly, Allory realised who had dared to speak – her! “Eep. Sorry. I … so sorry. Oh, suggids, I can’t …”

She began to wring her hands, to apologise as the pressure of so many watching eyes told upon her confidence and the old phobias all stirred her heart into rancid nectar soup, but a powerful hand took her elbow and a heroic touch raised her into the air.

Addressing the group, Harzune said, “Friends, a great evil besets our beloved Spheris, seeking to destroy all that we hold dear. I am Harzune Fae, leader of the finest band of Chameleon Fae warriors under Middlesun. Together, we have pledged our lives to this cause and, as now indicated, we have also given of our lives. Did you all see or sense Middlesun flicker yesterday in the late afternoon?” Sober nods from most. “That was an attack; an attempt to snuff out Middlesun or steal her power, we know not which – but what we do know, is that should this evil overmaster it, Spheris as we know it and all our lives should thus end.”

Touching his heart, he continued, “We are not many, but our cause is just – and more importantly, I believe this cause is a must, an imperative we cannot ignore. This is Allory, whom the Dryad of Durhelm Castle named Allory Life-Weaver. Never was a name more aptly given. She is the soul of our cause. Her entire colony of Scintillant Fae was abducted but weeks ago in order to abet this vile attack on our Middlesun, we believe by means of the theft of Scintillant magic and secret lore. Over the years, other colonies have been taken, as our four new Scintillant friends will attest. I fully believe that the vampiari, the parasitic spirits of old, are active again and they are unimaginably more powerful than we ever feared.

“My friends, as Allory said, we few companions plan to travel through the Gates of Saradoom and on to the Elven realms. We seek to succour all Faerie whose families and lives have been torn apart by this evil, and to destroy it before the worst should befall. I invite you to join us. We are not many. Our need far outweighs our hope, but I truly believe that destiny favours the righteous – I mean, that to unite in such a noble cause is the greatest endeavour we could ever undertake in all our days. Will you join us?”

Quiet words of assent or nods came from all.

The hero bowed aerially. “We are honoured. Allory, a word from you?”

What can I add to that? He speaks so eloquently.

Nervously, she ventured, “As Harzune said, the peril to Spheris is all too real. I am called Allory Fae and this is my cherished sisfae, Izrimy, whom I thought lost to me forever. I, or those more able than I, can speak more to your questions when we have a chance. I should love to hear your stories, but now we must travel on quickly before our ruse is discovered. The Chameleons will disguise us as we pass through the Gates. If anyone is wounded or suffering I can … I can try to help. Right now, please do not touch this Fae anywhere on her exposed skin or hair.” She indicated the bottle. “Her magic may be imbalanced. I fear that a single touch might kill you.”

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

The white Faerie girl nodded soberly.

“I pick the living icicle first!” Harzune called. “She’s on my team!”

“Why?” Varzune wanted to know.

“Unstoppable warrior. Just throw her at the enemy and tag along behind, stomping on the frozen bits,” he quipped, adding his Signature Heroic Grin for extra effect.

The dark eyes widened perceptibly. Allory checked if that pink mist inside her bottle turned instantly into steam. Maybe so. Harzune could probably make the average rock sit up and take notice.

His wooing will unthaw the frostiest heart.

A presentiment made her antennae buzz with knowing. Aye. A lovely sense that here was the moment, the prisoner who had been prophesied for Harzune, she whom destiny would have for his true love. Allory knew she was a jealous Faeling for feeling any differently.

Hard to quash these heart-sap pangs, however. A small part of her wanted to howl, But he was mine, first! Mine!

As the usually jocular Chameleons chuckled uncertainly at the interaction, the cart jounced several times before changing direction. She heard Yaarah issue a command to the pair of lizards, hitched muzzle to tail. They jerked again as the cart picked up speed.

Allory glanced shyly about the circle of watching eyes. Wetting her lips, she added, “I am so glad we found you – each one of you.” Her eyes touched Sabline and tarried until the Felidragon dropped her gaze. “Most especially, I am honoured to serve you. Harzune, please direct us.”

As the Chameleon made his arrangements, dispatching Sabline to join Yaarah in their roles as Marakusian carters, she moved again to the white Fae and steeled herself.

“May I try to remove this gag?”

The girlfae nodded. Fear and uncertainty crowded her eyes, emotions Allory recognised all too well. Tentative touch. Suggids! Snatch the hand back, try again.

The intense cold caused her fingers to spark repeatedly as she worked the buckles behind the girlfae’s head. The beastly contraption came in three layers, first a tough cover clamped to her chin and lower jaw, a second layer which sealed over her lips, and third, a wadding that entirely filled her mouth, rendering speech impossible. How did she even eat? Or survive? Whilst working at the packed, deeply frozen mouth stuffing with her aching fingertips, Allory examined the second bottle and the manacles. Someone had gone to great lengths to capture this Fae. Someone who had studied her powers and come up with a novel, devious method of capturing her, perhaps for examination or experimentation.

Disturbing.

What did this bode for her family?

“Can I help?” Ashueli asked.

“Don’t touch her –”

“I heard.” Crouching beside them, the Elf said, “I’m Ashueli. Let’s try this, Allory – pass me the tip of the cloth. I’ll cover the bottle with my vambrace again to protect my grip. Girlfae, you make some noise if I pull too hard, alright?”

The white chin bobbed.

As Ashueli judiciously exerted pressure, the tight wad of cloth crackled loudly. Despite the extreme cold, it did not crumble. Special materials? Yet another variant on Faesilk? With a dint of gentle wriggling and several changes of hands to rescue cold-numbed fingers, the Elf worked the material free and cast it aside. The girlfae sighed and drew a shuddering breath into her lungs.

“Sip of nectar?” Harzune offered.

She blinked several times as if to clear her tearing eyes, shook her head and tried to speak, but her voice came out as a harsh croak. Even this humiliation did not change the pallor of her cheeks. However, after a minute or two of shallow breathing with puffs of white condensation forming each time she exhaled, she managed to form intelligible words at last. Perhaps her vocal cords had warmed up a touch? Glacial to merely frigid?

“I … thanks. I’m –” she coughed harshly, blasting icicles into Allory’s face “– sorry! So bad.”

“As refreshing as a miniature hailstorm,” Allory smiled, flicking the particles aside uncaringly. “What’s your name?”

She rasped, “People usually call me ‘winter’s blight’ or ‘that cursed icicle.’ Or worse.”

Harzune exhaled heavily.

“My family called me ‘runt,’ ‘mosquito’ or ‘twig’ for the most part,” Allory replied coolly. “Shall we swap cruel nicknames? Bet my collection is every bit as exciting as yours.”

The white girlfae blinked in open surprise.

Izrimy sighed and laid her hand upon her smaller sisfae’s shoulder. “Guilty as Middlesun is high. I am so, so sorry, Allory. It just … seemed to be what everyone did and I should have known how hurtful it was. This apology comes years too late, but I want you to know how ashamed I am of everything I said and did. I never stood up for you. Not once. I’m truly sorry.”

“Thank you, Izrimy.”

She hugged her sisfae briefly, wishing that forgiveness might come easier than bitterness.

Turning to the captive, Allory quirked an eyebrow.

“I see who rules the cocoon around here,” the other chuckled wryly. “I’m – alright, did you know you sparkle when you’re angry? That’s cute.”

“How’s about I cute your antennae into an insanely pretty bow and sprinkle pink pollen on top?”

Awkward silence.

Heavy, sparkly sigh … trying somehow to master these overwhelming feelings. Being uncaged in spirit had changed her more than she realised.

“We call her Sparkles for a reason,” Ash snickered meantime.

“This is Ash, whom we call Sweetblades,” said Allory, indicating the Elf. “She’s as lethal as you, trust me. Harzune over there is Herotoes and we call Varzune Jokerbro for obvious reasons. Now, will we have a name out of you? Or shall I invent one?”

The spiky white eyebrows did a little dance of their own.

Challenging much?

“Alright, Frostbite it is. Welcome to the team, Frostbite.” The girlfae hissed in clear aggravation. Everyone flinched at the ultra-chilly airstream. “For what it’s worth, I am not usually this annoying but I have recently been struggling with anger issues when provoked – which you haven’t done, actually – oh, never mind. It’s me whose antennae are in a knot, anyways. Not you.”

How awkward on the honesty front?

The white lips quirked upward hesitantly, as if they had not even begun to consider smiling for far too long. “Shine my facets, Sparkles, you might be tiny but you’re tougher than diamond,” she chuckled huskily. Was that her more normal voice, with a touch of Yaarah-like rasp in it? Unusual, if so. “You win. I’m Zzuriel of the Diamond Fae. In our language, I’m named after the zzuriace, the ice halo rainbows that form at high altitude. Please don’t unbottle me just yet. It wouldn’t end well.”

Varzune chirped, “Bottled girlfae? What a wonderful notion! Someone could get rich trading for – ouch!”

“Forgive my brofae. The speed of his tongue regularly outstrips his brain,” Harzune noted, with an apologetic nod to Zzuriel. “Now be quiet, everyone. Lights out. That’s you, Allory Fae.”

“But she’s so delightful,” his irrepressible sibling chuckled.

He dodged another swing from Harzune.

“Have I told you recently what a sparkling wit I am? Come on over, Sparkles,” the joker beckoned, holding up an empty sack with a fake sneer and a malicious guffaw. “I’ve been meaning to give you the sack for ages now.”

Despite her better intentions, Allory wheezed, “Eep!”