There was a human in the Citadel. And Marrin was terrified.

She was short, but almost everyone was short compared to him. She had her hair in a simple braid, rich chestnut hair gleamy darkly, and her face had a small dusting of freckles on her nose. Her presence was very sweet, like an innocent deer.

He tried to back up, least he trigger its ravages. They attacked at sudden movement, right? He had seen some humans, and seen how terrible their power was. They were weak, of course, but in that paradoxical way that humans existed, they were also strong. He had seen the aftermath of a human mother who had defended her homestead against dread hordes, leaving mounds of bodies and almost bodies on the the wayside of her doorstep to keep her children safe. The human mother had been paralyzed. She could not walk, and yet she had attacked so ferociously that the horde had fled as if she was in hot pursuit.

Beyond the paradox of both strong and weak, Marrin knew that there was something more diabolical regarding the man-things.

Humans could lie.

In fact, Marrin thought it more rare to find a human who could tell the truth.

Fae could lie as well, but should they lie the Law of Fae would mark them. Each mistruth was a cut against a Fae's very power. Against their very soul.

But Humans were different.

They could take Favor, Authority, and Influence from an unwary Fae. The man-things could be granted a great boon, then cry when it came time to rebalance the situation. They were thieves. Stealers. The stories were endless about the Safe Dealings with Humans: do not.

Story after story of a human charming a helpless little Lowling, using that Lowling's small power. Then killing the Fae when the Lowling had been driven to ruin.

The human before him was watching him very carefully. Her crafty eyes were watching him.

Not all humans were liars. Stories were just warnings, after all.

The Rural Places needed to trade with humans, after all. As long as one was careful, the human could be used.

Marrin swallowed dryly.

"Esra, did you not tell him you were taking him to a human?"

The lanky Mage sighed, and chewed on his lip for several moments before he shrugged. "I guess it slipped my mind."

The woman sighed, and bowed, very regally. She must have some training in Fae etiquette, because it clearly resembled the Lren Style. Or perhaps it was really the Lren Style, and Marrin himself wasn't educated enough to differentiate a higher form from a counterfeit.

"Please, be at peace, stranger. Be a welcomed and well behaved guest, and I shall be a welcoming and accommodating host, within reason."

That was definitely the Lren Style.

Who had taught a human the Lren Style?

----------------------------------------

The Game raged. Since it was not yet 11 o'clock, there was no audience to its fury than the Law of Fae.

MAKE THEM LEAVE!'

Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

There must be balance. The Law of Fae countered sedately, purples and blues flowing.

THIS COULD UNRAVEL ME! THIS COULD BREAK EVERYTHING!

You were the one who allowed betrayal, of a former lover against former lover. Now that that conflict has led to this place, you balk?

GIVING ELSWITH AN ALLY WITH ALDEN'S LOVER WAS ALREADY THE REDRESS, WHICH I STILL PROTEST! NOW THIS!

As I said before. No. Take. Backs.

----------------------------------------

Marrin found himself shirtless, sitting on a chair, while the pain in his shoulder was dampened by a strange salve.

A human was standing behind him, making small, easy conversations. "I don't understand your anatomy perfectly...in fact, most Fae seem to have different anatomy from each other, like there is no standard. But the basic practices seem to mostly work." she said. "A wingbud. I've never seen that before." He had no hope of the wingbud healing, but if he could recover...being wounded made one a target. And now that he was so close to a dangerous situation, he would be well served to be as able as possible.

"He got cut by a Shadow Warbler. So...probably needs to be cleaned." Said Esra. "That thing looked really nasty. Why were you fighting with your right hand anyway? You were so much stronger with the other hand."

Marrin wished he could fly away and leave.

"I think I'll need to stitch this." she declared at last, and stepped away toward her small box of medical supplies.

It was strange, because while some of the greatest surgeons had been Fae, most healers just used their power to aid in the wound closing. Or rewrite that one had ever been injured to behind with.

Only the least used such blunt and terrible instruments. And yet, Marrin felt confidence in the human. He watched her look of concentration as she prepared her supplies, the small stars of freckles across her nose...

And he suddenly knew that Humans were dangerous.

Even knowing everything that he did, it was so hard to keep his guard up.

"So...are you a swordsman?" Asked the human, her language slightly careless. Then again, she was speaking Faespeech. Marrin didn't know any human language at all.

"I use a sword." He said, wishing he was better with words himself.

"Nice blade." she said, as she pulled out a wicked looking needle.

No one ever noticed his sword. Most saw it's silvery dullish shine and commented that it was a shine there was no ornamentation.

"Does the healer know bladecraft?"

"My father taught me." She said, her words catching on the word father. "Your sword looks familiar to me, but I don't know why. Perhaps it is because most fairy swords are very...fancy. And expensive looking. Mage, I need silk thread. You must bring me more supplies."

"Do they sell that somewhere?" Asked Esra. "I brought you something better than that, though. It's much more interesting, trust me."

"Better than saving your friend's life? Who banaged it anyway? Ameuter." she scoffed.

"Spikes did."

The healer dropped what she was holding. "You saw him? Is he here? Is he okay?"

"He's fine." Said the Mage. "Well, he keeps trying to get me to leave him alone. And he keeps giving himself new names, like Branch, and Elswith..."

"Elswith was his name for at least the last 15 years!" Cried Marrin, now thoroughly annoyed...

Until he noticed the human crying, large watery tears springing to her eyes. "I...I...I'll be a minute."

And the human woman left the room.

"Now you made her cry." Complained the Mage, completely misreading the situation.

"Who is that." Asked Marrin, a sinking understanding coming to him.

"A great doctor and medic. Also, very good at sparring. She doesn't miss a lick."

"WHO DID YOU BRING ME TO?"

"Oh. Spike's new girlfriend."

Marrin didn't know much about the Game. He knew that the Heirling of the Red Sword had cast away his rights and heritage in a desperate bid. The details were never widely announced, and in the month it had been since the Game had been scheduled, Marrin had heard various rumors. That the Lordling Elswith had grown tired of waiting for his Lordly Father to retire, and challenged him for the right to become the next Lord of the Red Sword. That Lordling Elswith, working with both his Lordling Father and the Red Faction, had defied the Senate and was aiming to break apart their control. That the Lordling Elswith had desired to make his own Court, and usurp the declining Rural Places as the bedrock of his power.

And one, small whispered rumor, that no one liked.

That somehow, someway, the Senate had been stealing the human children.

And their Princess alone had been able to break into the realm of Fae, chasing them all the way into the Citadel itself. To demand the return of the children.

And that Lordling and Heirling Elswith had defied everyone to help her.

You wanted to know what the Game was about...Whispered the colors of the Law of Fae to Marrin. Here you are...