We journeyed into town, the heart of The Dread. As we walked side by side for what felt like miles, the path stretched out before us, winding through the dense, mist-laden landscape. I was clad in my worn leather gear and gloves, the sturdy material creaking slightly with each step, providing a layer of protection against the chill. Lennon, had draped a soft scarf around my neck, its warmth a comforting shield against the damp, biting air. The scenery around us was a lush tapestry of towering pine trees, their scent mingling with the briny tang of ocean mist that clung to the air. The sky was a heavy, overcast gray, casting a muted light over the landscape that made everything seem hushed and introspective. The ground beneath our feet was a mix of uneven terrain and fallen needles, each step releasing faint whispers of the forest floor. Despite the gloom, the crisp, clean smell of pine and the gentle spray of the ocean provided a strangely invigorating backdrop, their combined aroma grounding me in the moment as I walked beside Lennon, his steady presence a reassuring constant in the grayness of the day. As we stepped into the bustling town, the sheer volume of Sidhe and the maze of vendors and small shacks overwhelmed me. A flutter of nerves twisted in my stomach, like a thousand restless butterflies beating their wings in frantic unison. The streets were packed to the brim, each stall bursting with goods, while the crowd moved like a living, pulsating sea. The Sidhe were a sight to behold, their slender forms seeming to shimmer and glow with an otherworldly light. They towered above humans, their height and stature imposing, with bodies that were stronger and more muscular, honed from centuries of living in harmony with the land and wielding the ancient magic that flowed through it. Their eyes were pools of deep, shimmering colors, like the night sky studded with stars, and their features were chiseled and delicate, as if carved from the finest marble. They moved with a fluid, ethereal grace and yet, despite their unearthly beauty, there was something fierce and wild about them, a sense of untamed power that seemed to simmer just beneath the surface. Their very presence seemed to command attention, to draw the eye and hold it, and I felt a shiver run down my spine as I gazed upon them. Tattoos covered nearly everyone, intricate designs peeking out from beneath their clothing. Most tried to hide their ink, only their eyes visible, while some, unashamed and almost defiantly shirtless, flaunted their tattoos as if they were badges of honor. The sight of those bare, inked bodies made me feel a pang of discomfort; their presence was both intimidating and oddly mesmerizing. As we continued through the crowd, I felt Lennon lean in, his breath warm and tinged with the faint scent of pine. He bent down just enough so his words would reach me, his voice a low, urgent whisper against my ear.
"Stay away from the shirtless ones," he said, his tone carrying a gravity that made my skin prickle. "They’re the worst Sidhe here." The seriousness in his voice made my pulse quicken, and I nodded, the warning settling heavily in my mind as we moved cautiously through the crowd.
I felt like a newborn deer, vulnerable and out of place in a pack of wolves, struggling to find my footing in this foreign environment. The vibrant energy of the town was both thrilling and unsettling, each turn revealing something new and unexpected. But as I navigated the chaotic streets, Lennon’s steady presence beside me was a constant, grounding force. His calm demeanor and reassuring presence were the only things that kept me from being swept away by the tide of unfamiliarity and the sea of watchful eyes around us. His hand tightened around mine as he guided me into a small, dimly lit store. The moment we stepped through the door, I was enveloped by the rich, earthy aroma of palo santo and incense. The air inside was thick with the smoke of smoldering wood and fragrant herbs, creating an atmosphere of tranquility amid the bustling chaos outside. The store was a haven of soft, flickering candlelight and shelves lined with various trinkets and bottles, their muted colors reflecting the warm glow. As he gently pulled me deeper into the space, the outside world seemed to fade away, leaving us cocooned in the soothing embrace of the store’s aromatic sanctuary. Being in this store made it easier to understand why he’d chosen to live in The Dread.
“First things first, we need to get you a wallet.”
We stood before a wall of shelves, each one lined with an array of crystal stones in various shapes and sizes. The majority were flat and structured, meticulously cut into square shapes just the right size to slip into a pocket. Their surfaces glistened with an almost magnetic allure, each stone radiating its own unique, subtle glow. Beside each larger crystal, there was a matching sister stone, delicate and no bigger than my pinky nail, resting in tandem. The pairing of these stones seemed purposeful, their proximity hinting at a deeper connection or purpose. The entire display was like a mosaic of secrets, each crystal holding its own quiet mystery.
“How do they work?” I asked, scanning the shelves in amazement.
“Pick the one that calls to you, and I’ll show you how it works.”
As I lifted my hand toward the wall of crystals, a strange sensation tingled through my fingertips. To my astonishment, one of the stones began to glow, its light emanating in a soft, pulsing rhythm. Unlike the others, which shimmered with a spectrum of colors, this particular stone was devoid of hue—pure, stark transparency. It was as if it had been untouched by the world, a blank canvas waiting to be imprinted. The sight was oddly poignant, a mirror to my own state—an emptiness, a canvas without memory or color, reflecting the profound void within me.
Lennon removed the nearly transparent stone from the shelf “It’s fitting for you, let’s see if it likes you back, give me your hand.”
He placed the larger rectangular stone gently into my hand, and the moment my fingers closed around it, a cascade of magical tingles spread through my entire body. The sensation was electrifying, like a thousand tiny sparks dancing across my skin. As if in response, the tiny sister stone began to glow and float before my face, its soft light pulsing rhythmically. It hovered there with an almost sentient quality, its glow intensifying as if it were analyzing me, examining every nuance of my being. The air around us seemed to hum with anticipation, the small floating stone a silent, enigmatic observer of my very being.
I blinked “What’s it doing?…”
The tiny stone floated gracefully toward my ear, its glow flickering with a soft, otherworldly light. With a sudden, surprising pinch, it attached itself to my earlobe, seamlessly morphing into what looked like an earring. I instinctively reached up, my fingers trembling as I tried to pull it away, but it was as if the stone had become an integral part of me, stubbornly fixed in place. As I touched it, my vision shifted, and a holographic tally system appeared in the upper right corner of my sight. The numbers and symbols flickered softly, creating a surreal overlay that pulsed in rhythm with the stone's own glow.
Lennon could see when I made the connection and he explained “For each rune you’ve ever had disappear, a tally will show up in the upper quadrant. That represents how much spending power you have in Visu. The more tallies you have in that quadrant, the richer you are.”
“I only have two.” I huffed.
He laughed and continued “The middle quadrant is all of the runes you’re currently inked with. When you speak an honest truth and a rune disappears, you’ll notice a tally move from the middle quadrant to the upper quadrant, informing you that you just created more spending power. And the lower quadrant is all the runes you’ve ever had.”
“So you have to lie first before you can gain any spending power?” I asked
“Not necessarily. If one entered Visu and never told a lie, their honest truths would still show up as tally’s in their wallet. That’s super uncommon in The Dread, but in other territories of Visu where Sidhe are educated since younglings on how to be honest, that’s where it’s more common. In the wealthier Visu territories is where you’ll meet those who’ve never told a lie. Especially in the temples where they worship truth as their God.”
“I’d love to visit the temples, that sounds fascinating.”
He smiled “I love watching your face as you learn about our world. It lights up with this wonder and endearment. We don’t see that a lot in The Dread.”
I blushed and one of his runes disappeared. “One tally richer?” I asked.
Lennon grinned as he turned to the shop keeper and tapped on his ear. “The wallet is yours now. There is a small temple here in The Dread. It doesn’t get much foot traffic but I commend them for trying. Want to check it out?”
“I’d love that. But what do I do with the bigger stone?”
“I suggest hiding it. If the wrong Sidhe get their hands on it, they’ll know how much truth power you’ve gained. There’s been heists where gangs of liars and bandits have cornered wealthy truth tellers and manipulated them into buying some overpriced worthless item.”
“So even if all you do is lie, you can still gain spending power in The Dread if you’re selling something?”
“Yeah those groups you saw that flaunt their runes and still appear to be wealthy, they’re typically in gangs. Theres also truth farmers...”
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As we stepped out of the store, the chaotic symphony of the bustling town hit me with renewed intensity. The crisp, aromatic air was now a blend of the incense from the shop and the myriad of scents from the street—spices, fresh bread, and the tang of sea salt. The sun, though veiled by a layer of heavy clouds, cast a muted, silver light over the throng of Sidhe moving through the streets. The vibrant market scene, once overwhelming, now felt like a dizzying whirl of colors and sounds. Vendors shouted their wares, their voices melding into a cacophony of urgency and enticement. The crowd surged around us, a living tide of movement and noise. Each step we took was a journey through the maze of bustling stalls and shifting faces, the warmth of the store’s tranquility quickly replaced by the vivid chaos of the town’s heart. And right as I was starting to feel the slightest sense of belonging, Veronika intercepted us.
Lennon rolled his eyes before she could even speak.
“Well hello to you too” she sneered at him, handing me a small cup of what smelled like wine. “A peace offering,” she said with a wicked grin.
Lennon snatched the wine out of her hand and downed it. “Don’t ever drink the wine here,” he warned, cupping my waist and scooting me closer to him. “If you want to offer us an actual peace offering, show me where I can get Ace some clothes.”
She stepped between us, forcing his hand to slip away from my waist, and casually linked her arm through his. “Gladly,” she said.
I faltered, falling back a step as my gaze fixed on them walking ahead of me. Their arms casually linked, moving in sync as if they had done it a thousand times before. The connection between them was palpable, a shared history I wasn’t part of. A sharp pang twisted in my chest, jealousy surging through me like a bitter wave. I hated how natural they looked together, how effortlessly Veronika fit by his side. The distance between us grew, not just in steps but in the invisible divide that seemed to widen with each heartbeat. It was a feeling I couldn’t shake, that gnawing sense of being an outsider, of wanting something—someone—that might never be mine. Just as I sunk deeper into my own thoughts, a strong hand gripped my arm, the force of it sending a jolt of terror through me. Before I could react, I was yanked into a shadowed alleyway, the noise of the bustling crowd swallowed by the darkness that suddenly surrounded me. My breath caught in my throat as I found myself cornered by four shirtless males, their bodies covered in ink, the intricate runes mixed with designs swirling across their skin like living shadows. The stench of sour wine and cigars clung to the males like a toxic cloud, making my stomach churn. Their eyes were dark, almost black, and glittered with something vile—something that sent a chill crawling down my spine. They leered at me, their expressions twisted with malice and hunger, and I could practically feel the filth radiating off them in waves. These were no ordinary Sidhe; they were disgusting, the worst kind of predators. Fear clamped around my heart, tightening with every heartbeat. I glanced around desperately, searching for an escape, but the alley was narrow, their bodies forming an impenetrable barrier. Panic surged, and I lunged forward, trying to break through them, but one of them was quicker. He shoved me back, the rough stone wall slamming into my spine with a force that knocked the wind out of me. Pain radiated through my body, sharp and unrelenting, as I crumpled against the wall, gasping for air. For a moment, I struggled against the inevitable, fighting to find a way out, but the reality of my situation sank in. There was no escape. Defeated, I stood there, pressing myself against the cold, unforgiving stone, my eyes wide as I stared at them. They circled me like predators, their eyes cold and appraising as they began to pick apart my appearance with cruel words, each insult like a dagger to my already raw nerves.
“Have you ever noticed those dark circles under your eyes?” One of them asked.
Another pinched at my hip “Do they not have food over there on the human lands? You’re very skinny in my opinion.” he laughed.
Another tore out a few strands of my hair, “It looks like straw, in my opinion,” he hissed.
My pulse thundered in my ears, and my body trembled with fear and anger, but I forced myself to remain still, to not give them the satisfaction of seeing how deeply their words cut. But they knew as each statement cleared a rune from their bare bodies. Truth farmers. Beneath the surface, I was breaking, fear and pain twisting into something darker, something that threatened to consume me whole.
One of them snarled at me, nostrils flaring “Are you aware that human smell is disgusting to us?”
Another flicked at my eyebrow, “There are wrinkles around your eyes, you look tired in my opinion”
“All alone on Sidhe land, you look lonely in my opinion.” The most vile-looking one said, making a crude gesture near his pants.
“You really think that reject Princeling Lennon will want to fuck a human? One that looks and smells like you?”
Something inside me snapped, a wild, uncontrollable fury igniting in the pit of my stomach. Without thinking, I lashed out, my fist connecting with the face of the male who dared insult my friend. Lennon was good-hearted and kind, he had helped me, a stranger to his species. He had helped me, knowing I had nothing to offer. I felt more protective of him than I did of myself. The satisfying crunch of bone under my knuckles echoed in the alleyway as he staggered back, his hands flying to his nose as blood gushed between his fingers. Another one lunged at me, his hand outstretched to grab me. Instinct took over, my body moving before my mind could catch up. I blocked his arm with my forearm and drove my fist into his stomach with all the force I could muster. He doubled over, a wheezing gasp escaping his lips as the air was knocked out of him. My eyes were wide, adrenaline coursing through my veins, sharpening my senses, making every movement feel like a blur of instinct and rage. For a brief moment, I was startled by my own reflexes, the sheer speed and strength of my reactions. But that moment of surprise cost me. The other two males, seizing the opportunity, rushed forward and grabbed me, pinning me against the wall. My back slammed into the unforgiving stone, the rough surface scraping through my leathers as one of them wrapped his hand around my throat. He squeezed, cutting off my air, and I clawed at his arm, but his grip was like iron. Their strength was otherwordly. My vision started to blur, the world narrowing to the feeling of cold fingers digging into my skin, the pressure on my windpipe, and the icy realization that I was trapped. Just as the world around me began to darken, a voice pierced through the fog of my fading consciousness—
Lennon’s voice. “Ace!” he roared, the sound carrying a mix of fury and command that made the males freeze for a heartbeat before scattering like shadows chased by the dawn.
Their footsteps pounded the cobblestones as they fled, leaving me gasping for breath, my throat raw and burning. My knees gave way, and I slid down the wall, my body trembling as I clutched at my throat, coughing and trying to force air back into my lungs. Lennon was there in an instant, his arms wrapping around me, grounding me. I looked up at him, his face a blur through the tears that had sprung to my eyes. The fear that had gripped me moments before was still there, but now it was mixed with something else—relief. He’d come for me.
“It’s okay, you’re okay.” His voice was low, tinged with a rough edge that betrayed the guilt simmering beneath the surface. "I should’ve never let you out of my sight," he murmured, the words heavy with regret.
It was as if each syllable was a burden he was forcing himself to carry, the weight of his own perceived failure. I could hear the remorse lacing every word, his usually steady tone faltering just enough for me to catch the pain he was trying to hide. I tried to speak, to reassure him that I was okay, but the moment I opened my mouth, it felt like I was swallowing sandpaper. My throat was raw, the words trapped behind a painful rasp. Frustration clawed at me, and I forced myself to swallow, wincing at the burning sensation that followed. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a flash of movement at the entrance of the alleyway. Veronika stood there, her expression one of cold indifference, but as our eyes met, she scoffed, the sound sharp and dismissive. Without a word, she turned on her heel and walked away, her back straight, unbothered. A sickening realization twisted in my gut as I watched her retreating figure. She had sent those males after me. It was all a game to her, one she had orchestrated with chilling precision. The air around me felt heavier, suffocating as the truth settled in—Veronika wasn’t just cruel; she was dangerous. Lennon’s gaze followed Veronika as she sauntered away, and I saw the moment his expression shifted, fury darkening his features. His jaw clenched so tightly that I could see the muscle twitching beneath his skin, and his eyes, usually warm and steady, burned with an intensity that made my heart skip a beat. It wasn’t just anger—it was something deeper, more primal. The air around him seemed to thrum with barely contained rage, and I swore I could almost feel it, like a storm gathering on the horizon. His fury was terrifying, a force that seemed to crackle and seethe beneath the surface, and for a moment, I wondered if even Veronika realized how close she was to provoking something truly dangerous. He clenched his fists, knuckles white, and I felt a shiver race down my spine. Blood dripped from his hands as he attempted to hide the black claws that pierced through his fingers. Lennon’s wrath was a living thing, a beast coiled and ready to strike, and it scared me more than I wanted to admit. His nostrils flared as he scented the fear rolling off me—the fear of him. His eyes widened, and he quickly retracted his claws, the sharp talons vanishing as if they’d never been there, the blood on his hands disappearing with the tangy scent of magic. He held out his now-normal hands, palms up, showing me they were just as human-looking as before.
“Sorry,” he murmured, his voice gentle yet firm. “It’s okay, you’re okay. They’re not going to get away with what they just did. None of them. I’ll make sure of it.”
Slowly, he lifted a hand toward my throat, the movement careful, almost hesitant. His fingers barely brushed the tender skin, and warmth spread from his touch as his magic flowed through me, soothing the rawness until the pain was just a memory.
Tears still clouded my vision, but finally able to speak I said “I’m okay, thank you for coming.”
His shoulders slackened with relief at the sound of my voice, the tension in his body easing as if he’d been holding his breath. His eyes softened as he took in my recovered state, but then an eyebrow arched in surprise, a flicker of admiration lighting his gaze.
“You downed two of those guys,” he said, his tone a mix of disbelief and impressed curiosity.
“Reflex,” I groaned, lifting myself up.
“Some reflexes, a human downing two Sidhe males is unheard of.”
Hearing him call me "human" yanked me back to reality, snapping the fragile thread that had momentarily tethered me to a sense of belonging. All the vile things those males had spat at me came rushing back, their cruel words slicing through the lingering haze of fear. The image of Lennon locking arms with Veronika flashed in my mind, a painful reminder of the divide between us—between me and this world. I was different. An outsider. I felt ugly, like a stain on some beautiful intricate garment, a garment I would never truly be part of. He noticed the blank stare on my face, the way I was spiraling inward, and his expression softened with concern.
"Come on," he said gently, his voice cutting through the numbness that had settled over me. "Let's get you home. I'll send someone to bring the clothes later." He reached out, his hand hovering near mine as if waiting for permission to guide me out of this nightmare.