Chapter 24
ENDING THE DECLINE
Devon’s determination to destroy Triana drove him hard. The need for vengeance had been growing inside of him since Shalim had returned his memories. He barely slept, and June had to nag him to eat properly. There were so many other things to do, but nothing else seemed as important when his eyes were so intently focused on the fairy queen. He wouldn’t be alone when he arrived in her throne room, not this time. This time the victims of her oppression would be there by his side, empowered by magic and trained to fight back.
Mitsey had sworn herself to become his student that same day, while Glimmer had officially pledged her people’s loyalty and commitment to his cause. He’d left Mitsey asleep in the library after prescribing her a three-hour crash course of literature. He couldn’t plan much without Mitsey, so he decided to work it out later when she woke back up.
Beth and Beks had agreed to take Glimmer and her gang of Tinkers under their wings, and the group buried themselves in the wonders of magic, technology, munitions, artillery, and biosciences. Tonight, they were going to sleep in the library. The gnomes were anxious to please, and they seemed desperate to cram their heads with as much as they could.
Izzy had taken Mersia into her care, which just left Sintra. There was a little time now for Devon to take the elf on a tour of the settlement, and then he’d asked Beth to demonstrate the war-room, during which they could talk about tactics.
The dryads were still scooting around, seemingly unaffected by their sister’s demise. They were raising moon-willow behemoths and planting other magical plants and flowers. More of them had arrived overnight, and they had brought more bags full of many natural wonders. Magical mosses, fruit bushes, fungi, and herbs were all rapidly taking root as the druidesses’ natural magic, infused them.
“They certainly seem happy here, my lo… I mean, Devon,” Sintra said, smiling sheepishly.
Devon intended to use this quiet time with Sintra to get to know her better. She was a talented leader, and he needed her services when Defiance was no longer necessary. First, there was something that he had been aching to say. “Sintra, I am sorry that you had to endure such hardship over there. It wounds me deeply to think of your suffering while I was unable to help you and your people.”
Sintra looked shocked. Warmth flooded her features. “Sadly, it is we who must be sorry. You were cursed while fighting for our cause. Our race has felt the guilt of that ever since. You will soon realise that every last elf follows you with devotion. It was the most triumphant moment for us when Isabelle told us of your resurgence.”
He didn’t have an answer for that. It had all gone so badly wrong back then. All because he chose to do everything alone and had assumed that a fellow deity would fight by the rules. It was a lesson hard to learn, but he wouldn’t make that mistake twice. They both chose to walk in silence up the winding staircase that led high into one of the central moon-willow trees.
When Devon and Sintra emerged onto one of the aerial walkways that crossed from tree to tree, they looked out at the new forest. It had been dark for a while, and they could see the tiny, coloured lights of the pixies as they flitted in and out of the trees, hunting insects and playing wild games. The whole area was gently lit by the faint blue glow of magical energy that the trees exuded to protect themselves. It gave the forest a haunting feel which Devon loved. An enchanted forest at night was one of the most beautiful things to experience.
The new homes they found in the boughs were much bigger than they’d expected but still managed to be warm and cosy. Sintra was amazed when she saw a sizeable washbasin and a toilet in a small room. There were numerous cupboards and wardrobes which were part of the living tree, and the dryads had even formed shelving and benches along the walls.
Further investigation revealed a lovely bedroom with a sturdy wooden bed frame and mattress. There were two windows in the living area that looked out onto the walkway, which had glass windowpanes and brightly coloured curtains. The apartment’s door even had a latch and lock mechanism. The new homes had basic furnishings, but all were well-made and practical. The villagers and his mana-forges had evidently been hard at work. Fortunately, people from the village had crafting talents, and their contributions had already been invaluable. They were working tirelessly for the cause. It was inspiring to see the new look of purpose that all the refugees had.
He then showed Sintra the new pods. They had initially been a source of utter bewilderment to the elf. The pods were considerably bigger on the inside, and Sintra stepped in and out several times in amazement.
He could tell that the elf was about to launch into another speech about how grateful the elves were, so he quickly changed the subject. That sort of talk made him squirm with embarrassment. He helped people because it was the right thing to do and didn’t seek praise. He felt responsible for their plight and was convinced they deserved his best attentions. “Are you a fighter, Sintra?”
“Not anymore, lord. There is no point in fighting the fairy queen’s soldiers in close combat. They always win. There are so few of us left that we cannot trade lives.”
Devon felt sad that the fight had gone from her. She was content to lead the resistance, not fight for it. She had a point, he supposed. If you cannot win, then walk away. That was one of the first lessons he’d taught his Shadow Elite.
“How many of you are there?”
“Defiance has less than two hundred members now. Recently Astley’s treachery has cost us dearly. They remain in Triana for now, protecting the refugees as they head out of the city to the gate. Your incursion the other night has resulted in the remaining guards staying around the palace. Now, they don’t venture past the inner circle just outside the palace walls.
As for the faie races, the situation is not good. All the different species have suffered steady declines in their population over the centuries. The lifestyle we must endure, and the lack of magical sustenance, have bitten into our numbers hard. Of the wood elves, I know we have about two thousand, but less than two hundred of the survivors are male, which does not bode well. The dark elves have half our number, perhaps. Dwarves are rarely seen above ground these days, so I couldn’t guess how many of them remain. Not nearly as many as the elves, I would wager. Goblins are notoriously fecund, but their males quickly die once they are bound in the fairies’ chains, so they have suffered badly. Maybe a thousand of them remain. I believe Glimmer already discussed the gnomes’ troubles with you. The fairies prefer male slaves of every race and take them wherever they can.”
Devon nodded along sadly. Though a terrible story to hear, it was not dissimilar to the Earth realm’s. Populations were predominantly female these days because the males didn’t get a chance to remain free for long. It meant that his new city would, undoubtedly, become a matriarchy. Devon would not tolerate inequality in anything within his sphere of influence, and he would stomp on any that appeared.
“We cannot travel without authorisation from the fairies. Gathering information is dangerous, and so everything I know of the other races is hearsay,” Sintra continued.
Sintra became lost in thought for a few moments. “You are the lord of justice, and therefore I feel it is right to tell you that not all fairies are evil. The season in which they are born determines a fairy’s disposition. Summer fairies are warm and kind, while those born in winter tend to be cold and loveless. As you well know, the queen is winter born. She kills fairies born during the transitive seasons because they will inevitably become mystical creatures, powerful in magic. Those born of the summer lead a thoroughly miserable life of servitude and persecution. The queen is a jealous creature who has been persecuting her kind ever since she had them in her clutches. The fairies are dying out, too, although the queen is too arrogant to see it.
I would suggest you talk to the queen’s daughter, April. She was born in the spring, much to the queen’s shame. The queen chose not to murder her daughter but instead sought to enslave her. April’s persecution is known to have been much worse than ours. I believe what Astley said about her impending execution. I hate to think that she might perish this close to the end of the queen’s rule. Fairies are highly susceptible to arcane influences, and their forms are not as stable as other faie. We should not let them die out because of a vendetta.”
Devon was disgusted and angry. This wasn’t just an issue of persecution. Every one of the core species of ancient Earth was rapidly approaching extinction. Sintra’s last words offered some hope, though. “It does my heart good to hear you consider the plight of the fairies as well. Maybe there is still hope for the faie to live peacefully and for populations to build again.”
“It seems that even a god has dreams.” She smirked. “Do you have plans to rescue the princess?”
“You need not worry about princess April. She is alive after her ordeals in the Terracotta tower. She and her lady in waiting are both recovering in our hospital as we speak.”
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Sintra looked at him in wonder. “How? You haven’t left this place since Astley told you about the princess.” Sintra sounded amazed but a little confused.
“You know about our little – ahem – training exercise,” Devon had the decency to look embarrassed. Their rescue of the fairies had been by chance, and it was sheer luck that the fairies they’d just happened across turned out to be so important. “During our time in the city, we encountered a group of ogres escorting a wheeled cage into the western quarter, towards the arena. We killed the ogres and found two fairies inside the wagon.”
“I am starting to think that Fate is a close friend of yours, Lord Wayfarer. Finding the princess and her lady was fortunate indeed,” Sintra replied, shaking her head.
“The good lady Fate is my mentor and a close ally currently. She and three other deities are committed to our cause and want the fairy queen dead almost as much as I do,” Devon said. He wondered if Fate was intervening on his behalf. Good fortune had indeed smiled on him several times recently.
“Do you know anything of the other races?” he asked. “We ran into some silthrine during our trek to the city. What of them?”
“Many other races are hiding away outside of the city; the silthrine included, they don’t survive well in the urban environment of Triana, so they are sent into the wilds to mine gems and harvest rare herbs. There may be as many as a few thousand of them remaining if you could find them.”
“What of the cat-people? Yet another species to which I owe a debt,” Devon said.
“There are cat-people living far out in the forest, but they hide themselves away. The fairies hunt them for sport, and if they catch one, they put it in the arena to fight. The Lionine, I am sad to say, were hunted to extinction, but the Leopardine species still exist in small numbers. There are still a few Pumine and maybe even some other subspecies, but they are rarely sighted these days. Once Isabelle had departed for Earth realm, I sent messengers into the wilds and toward the mines, warning them all of what was to come. We received a few delegates last week, and they have returned to their lands to bring as many of their species as they can to the gate. Some had already arrived and came through today. I hope more will follow soon once they have seen that it is not a trap. Will you be able to house so many?”
“In this realm, there will be five thousand moon-willows planted within the week. There are many more already grown in my realm, plus a large underground domain I created before the curse. It was going to be your new home, all those years ago, Sintra. Instead, I have linked my realm to this location and combined both sites.’
Sintra nodded but stayed silent, preferring to listen.
“Each moon-willow tree can provide housing for at least five families. Space will not be a problem in the short term,” he said, forcing his inner musings onto an elf with so much already on her mind. “I also need to feed, clothe, and provide for all the people, at least initially. Once things settle, there will be even more to do establishing trades, guilds, administration, and facilities. I am not the one to organise such things as I have other work to do. This realm is filthy with persecution, and the gods have tasked me to begin the clean-up. All nexus-points are working now, so magical energy now saturates this world. It is time for a resurgence of the faie in the realm that was once their home.”
Sintra turned sharply and faced Devon. “My lord Wayfarer, can I be of service? I feel you have been leading me to the question.” Sintra smiled then laughed for the first time since she had arrived.
“I was starting to think you weren’t going to offer,” Devon answered in relief.
“The resurgence of the faie in our original homeland is indeed an exciting thought and a worthy cause,” Sintra said. She hesitated and appeared to consider her next words carefully. “I will swear my services when the queen breathes her final breath. Fair?”
“I accept, and I am grateful for your offer. Now, madam elf, I’m recruiting for my new taskforce. I would like volunteers from a wide variety of species to set a good example. I’d like you to find some suitable candidates. How many refugees came through today?”
“Just over seven-hundred. There are some very suitable specimens that I could ask. Shall we meet at your box on wheels in three hours? I want to find myself a home among these gorgeous trees. I always dreamt I would get to live in one, one day. Thank you, lord Wayfarer, you have made an old elf very happy.”
“Send those potential recruits to me sooner. I’ll be in my box on wheels,” Devon laughed.
****-****
Gwen finally tracked the two priestesses down in Haven’s Hub. This was the first opportunity she had to go looking for Izzy since they’d parted company at Triana’s wall.
“Izzy, you and I need to talk,” Gwen said. She took yet another deep breath to try and calm herself. This conversation had already played out a hundred times in her mind and not once had it gone well. Mostly it ended with her losing her temper. Gwen did her best to stifle the hostility that bubbled in her.
Izzy whispered something to Mersia, who nodded and made her way to the Hub’s exit swiftly, leaving her and Gwen alone in the vast, circular room. “I assume that this is about Devon?”
Gwen moved over to a designer bench and sat down. She motioned for Izzy to join her on the opposite seat. She arranged her face to convey a slight smile that she hoped looked less forced than it felt.
Izzy took the seat she’d been offered and tried to keep her body language open rather than just curling up into a ball, which is what she wanted to do. Devon’s soldiers scared her, but Gwen was the one that terrified her most. Izzy could see the inner darkness that, while not evil, was cold and remorseless. Sometimes she even caught suggestions of Sulkiss’ thoughts, and they were even blacker. The witch was an enigma to her. They had been allies and friends since they’d united against Beth at the village but had never become close.
“I know that you’re roaming around in my head as we sit here, and I sort of want you to see what’s in there. It will save me so many poorly chosen words.”
“You are hard to read, Gwen. There are areas in your mind that are tightly closed and barricaded. I would guess that you have suffered so much that you have locked the memories away. I want to be your friend, not your enemy. Talk to me. It might help.”
Gwen’s face lost all discipline and fell straight to looking wretched. She bowed her head and sighed. “This conversation stays here. Nothing I tell you can ever reach Devon’s ears, is that crystal clear?”
Izzy’s mood became solemn, and her face echoed that. “I swear to that. Your secrets are my secrets,” Izzy replied.
“I don’t have anyone else that I can talk to. I never have,” Gwen explained. “I’ve always managed on my own, never needing anyone else. Hextaine corporation sent an assassin squad to kill my parents when they tried to flee from their jobs.” Darkness crossed her features as that particular mental wound opened back up. She clasped her hands together and squeezed hard. “I was taken and raised in a corporate nursery and taught to be a fighter from an early age. They used torture, pain endurance and starvation as ways to motivate us and then, when they deemed us ready, sent us out to capture or murder anyone who the corporation considered a target.”
“That’s appalling—you poor thing. I lost my parents when I was very young too. Luckily for me, Sintra rescued me and raised me to become-” Izzy’s thoughts crashed. While she had never endured torture or any cruel treatment from Sintra, her situation was almost identical to Gwen’s in every other way. She had been taken at an early age and raised as a killer. Izzy had found her salvation in the priesthood and academia. It seemed that Gwen had not been so lucky. She reached across the gap and took Gwen’s hand in her own. “Our situations are very similar. I was lucky, Gwen. I found religion and became a priestess of Devon’s. From there, I learnt many languages and lost myself in literature. I have always adored history.”
Gwen tried to force a conciliatory smile for Izzy. The elf meant well, but what Gwen had revealed so far was a small fraction of what she had actually gone through. It was doubtful they had anything in common at all other than their worship of Devon. However, Gwen needed a friend. She had pushed everyone away, all through her miserable existence, and maybe it was time to let someone through her barriers. Izzy felt like a light that had stumbled into her dark world yet was unafraid to be there.
“For me, it was comic books and fantasy stories,” Gwen explained. “Tales of magic and sword fights. Superpowers and strange mystical creatures. Now all the fantasy is happening around me, and I feel like it’s me who isn’t real anymore. Devon has made me into some sort of hero way beyond my imagination, and I am proud to be the person I have become. For the first time ever, I am proud to be me, something I never dreamed might happen. I always despised myself.”
Izzy squeezed Gwen’s hand sympathetically, her face radiating concern for the dark witch’s insecurities. “We have all become mighty through our bonds with him. He is the son of the progenitor, and we share his power, Gwen. Think about it,” Izzy enthused, doing her best to raise Gwen’s mood.
Gwen looked up and focused intently on Izzy. Her eyes took on a manic gleam, and she grabbed Izzy by the shoulders, gripping her tightly. “He is the light that has entered my world, and I will do anything I can to keep him there. Anything! Even kill, Izzy.”
“Woah! Hang on, Gwen. Relax. I am not trying to take him from you,” Izzy gulped and took several deep breaths. Gwen’s grip was starting to become painful.
“You love him. Every look you give him makes that clear enough. We can’t both have him, so it boils down to you or me. Aria is dead now, so she isn’t a contender anymore. Rumour has it she wanted to marry him.”
Izzy squeaked. “Gwen, you’re hurting me. This isn’t an argument. Please. Calm down and listen to a suggestion I have. You have my oath that you will not lose him because of me.”
Gwen looked at her hands in shock as if realising she owned them for the first time. She relaxed her grip and clasped them in front of herself instead.
Izzy breathed a sigh of relief. She stretched her shoulder a little and rotated her arms to allow the blood to flow freely once again. She reached over and took both Gwen’s hands and held them gently. Izzy did her best to mimic the technique Madi had used on Devon back in the village. She looked intently into her eyes while softening her expression.
“He is a god, Gwen. Thousands already love and worship him. We are not the first to love him or want to offer him our affections either. If we want to keep him close, we have to share. Will you share him with me, Gwen?”
Gwen pondered Izzy’s words. She didn’t want to share him, but there was sense to what Izzy said. If she tried to eliminate the elf because she was competition, all she would succeed in doing is incurring Devon’s wrath. At least by sharing, they both strengthened their hold on him. “We can share, but I am staying right by his side for as much time as I am able.”
“Then we have an agreement. I aim to become a teacher and historian and stay right here. I will not fight you for your place by his side. I just want him, just as much as you do. We can care for him better as a team and each gain a friend as a bonus.”
Gwen smiled her first genuinely happy smile in days. Relief washed through her. “Thank you. I think we can both benefit from this, and I need a friend at the moment.”
Izzy smiled at her ally and friend. “So do I, Gwen. I really do.”