Hunting down a Fae was not on Taylor’s Christmas Shopping list. All she wanted to do after closing up her little bakery was to snag some gifts for her family before December rolled into its full, glamorous swing. Instead she was now stalking down the glittering aisles of the local grocers, eyeing every single red-and-green decoration with her hand firmly wrapped around her army knife, hidden under her flour-stained apron. The frantic call from her older sister was not one she wanted to receive, that her nephew had been supposedly nabbed by one of the Seelie from the Otherside of the Rift—-but it seemed ill luck with the Fae ran in Taylor’s family. 

The issue Taylor was facing now was tracking down the Fae, which she supposed was likely a Gilded Fae---beautiful, deadly, and could pass as a human. The real rule of thumb with them was if they weren’t working a job (Like running a Greenhouse for arcane plants as one did downtown) She really doubted a Rot Fae could go around without making a scene. And speaking of scenes, Taylor told herself she really needed to do this without making one.

She rushed down the silverware aisle in a flurry of pink, looking left and right. Her gut tightened in an awful feeling of complete dread, a heavy weight sinking on her shoulders as a steady hum began burning at the back of her skull. 

Somewhere a little scream sounded, echoing down the aisles and piercing through a jubilant Christmas tune, turning the sparkling, over-decorated store into a soon-to-be sight of tragedy if Taylor wasn’t fast enough. She crashed around a corner, nearly tripping over her feet as she followed the sound, boots thudding on the ground. 

“Fae! Fae here!” An employee was pacing down the hall--one she would recognize as Lucas--was blanched and frantically weaving his way out of the bakery section. “Where the heck are the cops?? There’s a Fae here!” 

 The very clearly frustrated employee nearly collided into Taylor, “You really should get out of here!”

 “I know,” She passively answered, ignoring his continued protests as he left. Coward. She continued onward, guessing that the employee just saw the blasted Fae somewhere in the baked good isles. She stuttered to a stop. 

There amongst all the over-sugary sweets a grocery store could offer, stood a strange man with a mask pulled over the lower half of his face. His palor was blinding as his tall figure was daunting. There was an air of boredom about him that vanished when he saw her, hunched form going rigid. The hum in her skull grew to an uncomfortable level, ringing in her deaf ear and her breath quickened as she locked eyes with his---perfect wells of never ending black. 

Fae. 

Taylor’s hand tightened around the grip of her blade. She slipped the knife out of her apron, pushing herself forward and thrusting the knife to his ribs. But the tricky otherworlder saw her coming. He turned in a heavy lurch, dragging something out from behind him that made Taylor stumble. 

An axe.

He swung it in an arc, and Taylor twisted away and crashed into the stand of muffins next to her, the tight quarters doing her little favors as the blade tip dragged on her arm. It left a scarlet mark, stinging jolting up her veins of her arms. A carving glinted on the flat of the axe, and Taylor’s eyes widened in horror. 

Rune of Ignition.

With a panicked yelp Taylor shoved herself out of the way of another swing of the axe, the Fae carelessly dragging it through the muffins and obliterating them. She threw herself back into the cookie display next to her, shoving her arm into the stale goods to stifle the flames threatening to burst along her arm. 

The axe came crashing down inches from her head, the hum in her head was near dizzying as she jerked her hand to the left, sticking her knife into the Fae’s arm. He howled out in a yell, stumbling back and letting go of his ridiculous weapon. 

Not hesitating she burst forward, now bloodied blade in hand. The Fae stepped to the side, pulling a knife from his belt. Taylor had him backed in a corner, he had nowhere to go. She raised her arm, dashing forward to jab the knife into his neck, his own weaponry dragging on her side as she did. 

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He moved, her knife missing just barely, snagging on his coat as he harshly shoved her aside, practically throwing her into the floor. The towering Fae yanked his axe out of the cookie stand. Taylor quickly scrambled to her feet, pain roaring in her ribs. 

They locked eyes, the hum in her head burning like a fire, every spring in her body tightened like a spring. 

“HELP! Let me go! Let me go!” A child’s shrill voice cut through the air. Both Taylor and the ‘Fae’ snapped their gazes to their left to see a gaunt figure clad in bright violet robes with two, thread like antennae flowing behind him as he dragged Taylor’s nephew down the ingredients aisle.

“Wait you’re not the Fae?” Taylor choked in horror, looking at the man she had just assaulted. She then spinned in her heel, not waiting for an answer as she ran after her James, boots thudding on the tile.

“I thought you were,” The ‘Fae’ chimed, voice rolling smoothly and plainly as if he hadn’t just been stabbed, gaze darting to the awful scene before he split away from the bruised baker, disappearing down an aisle. Coward! 

James spotted Taylor, blue eyes widening. “Taylor! Taylor this FREAK IS GONNA—-“ 

“Quiet, child,” His captor hissed. His eyes glinted like dark jewels as his grip tightened on James, two thread like glowing antannae flowing out of his long black hair as he darted around a corner towards the back-exit of the store. 

Taylor grabbed the end of the shelf for balance, swinging around and crashing into the Fae. Bad idea. Pain shot down her arm as the Fae dug his own weapon into her shoulder. She kicked him harshly, grabbing his gaunt face and jamming her knife into his side, ripping through the fabric of his clothing and drawing blood near instantly. 

The Fae snarled out in pain, magic jolting like ice through Taylor as she was thrown through the air by an arcane force into the ingredients shelf behind her. Pain ricocheted through her body, bags of enchanted sugar and flour poured, magic spices and essences clattered to the ground, some smashing, the contents fizzing and coming half alive at the magic effuse smoking off Taylor.

“Taylor Taylor no! No!” James screamed as the Fae held fast. The creature turned in an elegant twirl as Taylor struggled to stand. He waved a lithe hand, and his wounds closed and the violet cloak Taylor ripped mended, hiding the smallest glimpse of wings. He glanced at her, that cold, indifferent gaze something so uncomfortably familiar to Taylor. 

“No!” Taylor hissed out, trying again as the Fae ignored her, dragging the wailing child with him towards the exit in hypocrtical, glorious flourish. 

No. No. No---she could not let this happen again! But there was no strength left in her, she was becoming aware that her dress was quickly turning red with her own blood and something was definitely broken. She tried once more to stand, and failed, helpless to save her nephew from the horrific grasps of something she wished she never knew of. 

A great wall of black stepped in the way, his blade glinting dangerously. 

“A child as a Christmas present is super uncreative,” The masked man spoke, his rolling accent cut through the magic and dread hanging in the air. “And really unpractical.”

“...You!” The Fae froze, glowing antenna going rigid and disappearing in his curtain of hair, recognition flashing over his features. 

“Me? Oh,” The axe-wielder seemed unbothered, and Taylor could not begin to fathom why the man seemed so determined to act like this was another Tuesday. Maybe it was shock. Taylor was feeling some shock right now.

“Yeah, yeah me. I was hoping you were someone else. Now let the child go.”

“Like you have any authority,” The Fae rolled his black, jewel-like eyes, lifting his free hand. Magic soaked into the air once more, vapor rising up from his fingertips. 

Taylor knew time was up, she would not let this monster take her nephew. She reached and grabbed a bottle---Arithia Essence. Used to give food a rich and earthy, flavor, and some mild healing properties. It was made from grinding a very fast growing magical plant into powder---and then deactivated. It would be a terrible shame if something magical like a rune activated it. 

She hurled the bottle and it smashed against the back of the Fae, glass and bright green powder flying everywhere. The Fae hissed, arching his back in pain, loosening his grip on James. 

“James, run!” Taylor barked, and the kid took his chance and darted. 

“What in the name of the Winter Queen do you think--” the Fae whirled, annoyance on his features. The axe-wielder swung his axe, lodging it into the shoulder of the obstinate Fae. 

Flames sparked, the powder activated, and the masked man’s eyes widened as massive, thorny vines sprouted, catching fire and curling around the Fae before he could even register what was happening, caging him in a thorny, blazing prison he was helpless to stop.

The man ripped his axe out of the burning thorn bush and hastily stepped back. Two police officers rounded the corner, their confusion cut short when the Fae perished, causing the arcane bonfire to explode, sending fairy dust everywhere.