Daniel stalked through a long, winding corridor. Grand, if not for the neglect. Wide, if not for the discarded crates and chests that climbed to the ceiling. Stately, if not for the grime.

This was the Castle Keep, the original home of the first Fae King. It had been left to the servants for hundreds of years as the Citadel grew larger and larger and the Seelie Fae grew more and more powerful. Important Fae had no need of an old, winding, confusing mess of chambers, wings, halls, and random underground tunnels.

Daniel paused and leaned over the decaying clutter to see a piece of the exposed wall. Long ago, all of the Ruling Seelie Fae would stay at the Castle Keep. These old corridors still bore reliefs and carvings and old faded murals of the eons past. His touch on the old wall revealed a carving of two children holding hands. If this clutter was not in the way, he could have wiped the wall to see the mural progress. Whatever it was depicting, at one point kings from distant lands had gazed upon it for inspiration.

Now it was blocked from view by crates of junk in a dim passage, undisturbed and forgotten. so worn by time and overwritten by neglect that all the details had faded into obscurity.

Would his time as the Heirling of the Red Sword be similarly forgotten? Would his allies move on? Would his enemies no longer even plot against him? Would the villages he had protected find a new hero? One more cunning, perhaps? Or would they merely be wiped away before another champion emerged?

Something moved in the darkness, and something unseen darted between two large towering stacks of clutter. The feeling of many eyes fell on him, and he knew instinctively that something unaffiliated and wild had spied him.

Daniel withdrew his hand from the relief, and started walking again, as he realized belatedly that he may be considered prey to those staring eyes in the darkness.

In the beginning of the Citadel, those long generations ago, there were only three structures. The King’s Castle Keep, the Stable, and the Armory. The real problem with these old legacy buildings. The wild nature of the Fae magic, left to rot and stagnate in a confined place, sometimes created unpleasant things. At least this wasn’t the Stable. Servants rarely disappeared from the Castle Keep. Unlike the Stables.

Elswith would have faced no limitations regarding mere trifflings.

But his name of Daniel was too new, too fresh, and to underpowered to assume anything yet. He was not yet an official servant. Until then, he would be vulnerable.

He moved on, not too fast. He had been in too many battles to run. But he also felt so heavy, and thick, and his senses were so…different than before, to trust himself in unarmed combat against what lurked in the belly of the Castle Keep.

He felt the eyes fade as he left the darkened passageway and entered a slightly more functional corridor. The feeling of life was nearer here, the past foot traffic more apparent. The Law of Fae was alive here, though not quite alive and swirling as he was used to.

He had been in this corridor before, over a decade ago. Some of the majesty still remained here. It was clearly a public space, a corridor connecting several key wings together before getting to the old throne room of the first king. His steward had taken him here, for education. But the experience then was completely different than the current.

Daniel kept walking, but never encountered another soul. The eyes that he felt had retreated, but he was afraid that without others present, it may become emboldened.

He considered the possibility that he had not encountered anyone. While he knew he had been stored away in a suite of rooms far from others, as he entered the main corridor, he still heard no one else beside his own steps. Undoubtedly the others who would frequent this corridor had decided to take another passage. Perhaps it was some kind of truce between the servants that no one had access to him before the rest. Perhaps it was an order that came from higher up, to prevent Daniel from forming an alliance with the servants of one faction before the servants of another faction had an opportunity to extend the same kind of twisty covert offer. Or it could be true maliciousness from his Lordly Father, the High Fae and Red Lord that Daniel had dared defy.

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He needed to get a servant name. Unless he wished the entire Citadel to have hold over him, he needed a new Harbor name. Himself of a season ago would never had believed that he would one day both dread and yet need to get a servant name. How the mighty had fallen.

One season ago, he could have this hall cleared and beautified if he gave a whisper of his intention to visit the First Fae’s Keep.

The Castle keep of the first king became housing for the multitude of servants that flowed like the lifeblood of the Citadel And the Fae had many servants. Many, many servants. Despite magic, each estate required the services of hundreds of willing hands. While estates had their own servants, they did not always wish to house them in the Estate itself. And not every estate could afford to have all the extra hands all the time. It also allowed a body of workers to be rented for specific events.

Of course, it opened the risk of a servant turning spy, if they weren’t one to begin with, but that was part of the game, after all. All servants had the potential to be spies. But one can learn from a spy, so many high lords allowed the Keeps Spies free access to certain regions. A servant can easily become a representative from one lordling to another. Which is why servants may not live long. One cannot kill a high lord, but removing a peculiar favorite of one lord was an effective taunt or tease.

The servants who survived these ordeals were all adept at playing the game. Or they were new enough not to be killed yet.

Daniel walked down the corridor, his stomach growling. He didn’t like that sensation. He hadn’t really needed to eat before, when he had his magic. Not the same way. He’d eat, of course, but he hadn’t needed to. He also couldn’t overeat before, because his magic would break down the meal and start to convert the excess to magic. How else do the fae courts lords attend nightly banquets with nine course meals, cakes and desserts and pudding, and meat juicy and fat, and still fit into those skin tight form fitting clothes?

He tried not to grin. He knew he could still do that, convert food into magic. But it was slow, ineffective, and he also no longer attended such banquets. He wasn’t even fit to be the attendant. Food wasn’t readily available. But there was another reason he did not try to employ this method. They thought he could no longer use such methods, because many lordlings used external spells to accomplish this. This could be of use to him. But if he suddenly gathered power now, they could tell. And they would want to know how he could. No. He would wait.

He touched the old stones in this corridor. At least they were cleaner, but little care had been taken in the cleaning it seemed. Everything seemed worn after centuries of scrubbing and cleaning. This had been the main section of the keep before, and once been the highlight.

The first task of today was to be mocked.

The servants were mostly benign, but opportunity often gives way to cruelty. Others were spies from the other Lordlings, to mock him. Others would wish him no harm, but must not offer friendship or kindness least they make themselves a target.

Most would watch, many would jeer, select few would bear messages from their lords. Kindness could be trusted least of all, as kindness was so very often a trap.

He paused outside the door. On his right the relief mural of the first king stood, sword sweeping upwards to the sky representing strength and domination over the world, the other hand bearing a book representing knowledge and wisdom. An owl was carved perching on the old king’s shoulder, and a falcon on the other, representing that regardless of day or night, the king saw all.

Daniel had been here before, when he was a child. His educator took him to all the historical places in the keep, so he would know his history. The air had been fresh then, with bright lights dangling from the curved ceiling and fresh flowers in vases at even intervals, no doubt they had prepared this old corridor for his arrival. But no efforts had been made this time. The vases were completely gone, and the lighting canes long unused and unpowered.

If only he was a nobody. Instead, he was a former Heirling of a major faction. Reappearing for the first time. The servants hall would be absolutely full. No doubt he would be given impossible contrary tasks to ensure failure. That didn’t matter. This would show him who pulled whose strings, and who was actually in charge. He may even disregard all the commands he was issued, if he could find who could be ignored. This was his moment to set the tone.

The Lordling name Elswith was dead and hollow, a weight around his neck. The True Name of Daniel a secret he had never even once whispered aloud, afraid that wisps and shadows would steal it to have domination over him.

Once he entered that room, he would need to gather his third name, a harbor name that would hide him, a servant’s name. With that name, he would be able to contend with the mightiest of Lordlings, the Senate, the Courts, and even his Lordly Father.

He just wished he did not know that many servants had a terrible habit of dying when they acted against their betters.