Rauskegajour

Prince Brenagh was bored, and when an unseelie with the word ‘caprice’ in his title was bored, everyone stayed far, far away.

Trusty sword sheathed by his side, he found himself wandering along the edge of a great lake, its surface murky with algae and duckweed. A few selkies frolicked by the shallows, while loch drakan rose and vanished in the deeper waters. Sitting on some rocks near the shore was a youth about Brenagh’s age, with reed-tangled white hair that highly contrasted his dark green skin. Thin, curling fingers grasped a rich mahogany violin, skipping the bow across the strings like a pixie through the woods.

“Hello,” Brenagh said, sitting down on a nearby rock.

The stranger startled, but managed not to break his recital. “Hello,” he replied.

“What are you practicing?”

“My heart song.”

“Heart song?”

“Every nix has one. It’s unique to him; no one else can imitate it.”

“Interesting. And that’s what you use to lure your prey?”

“Humans, yes. But I’ve been out here all day, and I just can’t help but think it’s not good enough…”

“I like it. It sounds like something you’d hear in the court.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“That’s nice of you to say.”

A few selkies walked past, each carrying a satchel that held their sealskins. Brenagh winked at them. They giggled and curtsied, then scuttled away, whispering amongst themselves.

“I’ve never gotten that reaction out of them.”

“Not very likely, I’d imagine.”

“Member of the court?”

“Its future king, actually."

“Your Highness,” the nix exclaimed, falling to his knees.

Brenagh signalled for him to rise. “I appreciate the gesture, but I’m here to get away from exactly that nonsense. Just ‘Brenagh’ is fine.”

“You do me too much honour, err…Brenagh.”

“And what might your name be?”

“Rauskegajour. But Raus is much less of a mouthful.”