Elphyne » Lair » Aurae

Aurae

(#58566334)

| storyteller |

Iamaghost

Foresight Phantasm

Energy: 0/50

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

4.67 m

Wingspan

5.5 m

Weight

611.82 kg

Genetics

Mulberry
Starmap

Blackberry
Bee

Blackberry
Filigree

Hatchday

Jan 18, 2020
(4 years)

Breed

Adult
Nocturne

Eye Type

Light
Uncommon

Level 25 Nocturne

Max Level

STR

129

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

Offspring

Biography

xxxxx

━━━━━━☽ • ☾━━━━━

The Fate of the Faerie Knight

Queen Ostara’s knights marched through the winding tunnels of her domain to the exit. Ailwyn, second-in-command to General Ophelie’s troupe of knights, gathered up the stragglers.
“Stand to attention! Casper, just because General Ophelia is not here with us is no excuse to slack off. Oona, put your sword away.” While most of the Fair Folk recognized the modicum of power that Ailwyn had, some of the knights would scoff at her. After all, she wasn’t an official general, and until she earned the title, she would always be second-in-command.
Since the beginning of her journey to knighthood, Ailwyn had dreamed of the luxury and comforts being a general would provide her. For one, she would be guaranteed a spot on Her Majesty’s council. Even the Queen herself would be powerless to remove her if she so wished. There were thousands of knights within Her Majesty’s ranks, and nearly all of them had entertained such fantasies at one point. But most were willing to let these dreams stay as dreams. Being knights already afforded them most of the luxuries they would ever need.
“You’re not a general, nor will you ever be,” Casper sneered, pulling out his sword. “Why, even I could beat you at a duel. You know what? Let’s duel. Right now, right here.” In the faerie world, most knights had little to worry about in terms of land, food and power. They were revered in faerie society, and loved by the nobility of the High Court. Most came from the nobility as well. A few were commoners, but once one became a knight, they were essentially a member of the High Court.
“We are going out on patrol, yet your concern is increasing your status. And they say we knights are supposed to be selfless and brave, not cowards and scheming fools.” Casper sheathed his sword. She greeted the knight at the entrance and they stroked the moss hanging over the entrance of the tunnel. It lit up from within, giving off a greenish glow before writhing like snakes and retreating to the ceiling. The door beneath was carved with a depiction of an ancient faerie deity, dressed in shimmering silks and holding a scepter. The jagged rocks surrounding the door disappeared into the floor with a grating sound. A few of the knights behind her yelped as the door swung open and the scent of fresh flowers wafted inside.
Ailwyn was the first to cross through, and she found herself in a wild garden overrun by ivy and vines. Large trees towered over their party on all sides, disappearing into the dense fog that hung over the area like a cloud. A few insects chittered away and birds swooped through the trees.
The entrance to the faerie world would often shift around, and the entrance might lead to a desert one day, and the middle of a bustling mortal settlement on another. It was unpredictable, much like the Fair Folk were, which is why many of the knights didn’t seem to take much issue with it, unlike Ailwyn. Once the entrance to the network of underground tunnels shifted, it would be virtually impossible to find again, even though the scale of the tunnels themselves were enormous.
“You know the drill,” she said. “Patrol at the perimeter for a mile in each direction, then regroup here to go back.” She tied back her dark hair. “Do not be late.”
They split up into smaller parties of five: Stellan; Lilou, a dryad with an affinity for flowers; Emrys, a close friend; Aurian, a half-goblin, half-dryad; and a young faerie with pale green hair. While the other four were well acquainted with each other, it was their first time meeting the new faerie.
“What is your name?” Aurian asked, yawning. The girl said nothing.
“We do like to know who we’ll be patrolling with,” Emrys added.
“I’m Evian,” the newcomer whispered.
“When was your trial?” Ailwyn asked. To become a knight, they had to fight the ten lower generals in an arena before being considered for the role. The entire High Court would often show up to gleefully point at the trainees’ misfortune.
“I-I didn’t have one,” Evian murmured.
“How are you a knight, then?” Stellan asked.
“Ostara said I could.”
There were a few gasps around them and Lilou drew up to her full height. Her purple eyes began to glow. “How dare you call Her Majesty by her name.”
“She speaks like a mortal,” Aurian remarked.
Ailwyn closed her eyes. They were supposed to be patrolling, and they were interrogating instead. “Enough. Follow me to where we’ll be going today. If you have any questions—” She looked at Evian. “—then ask the others. Make sure you do not fall behind and make sure you follow my orders.”
She directed the others to head in opposite directions and then they went west.
The humid air weighed down on them and made a normal stroll in the forest nearly unbearable.
“How did she become a knight without a trial? I mean, even you had a trial.” Emrys said, keeping stride with her.
“It’s not for us to worry about,” Ailwyn replied, speeding ahead. She really did not want to be reminded of her trial. The High Court had been against her instatement as a knight, and ordered that she not only fight the ten lower generals, but General Ophelie as well. Ophelie had defeated her with hardly any effort, which the High Court took as the sure sign that she wouldn’t be a knight. The wise general must have seen the dedication inside Ailwyn, because she deemed that it was her fate to become a knight. Every faerie was fated to be something after all.
They eventually stumbled upon a stream. Aurian jumped in without a second thought, ignoring her yells to come back to land.
He resurfaced and yelled, “I’ll just patrol from the water. Stop yelling, Ailwyn.”
“This is against proper decorum,” she argued, but he waved her words away.
“While you’re on land burning up in your uniforms, I’ll be in the cool, refreshing water, and actually enjoy myself.” He grinned. A few of the others looked like they wanted to jump in, but she glared at them and they backed away. She would definitely have a talk with him when they got back.
Ailwyn and the others split up to find a bridge across the stream, while Aurian paddled through the water, laughing and splashing around.
Stellan found the bridge first. It was rotting and overgrown with moss. Critters crawled up the underside, and she spotted a bird’s nest in a hollow of the wood. When she put a foot on it, it groaned and creaked, but miraculously held up. She crossed the bridge in light strides and the others followed.
When they reached the edge, Emrys tilted her head. “Do you hear that?”
Stellan nodded. Try as she might, Ailwyn couldn’t hear anything, other than the footfalls of her group and the rustle of leaves.
“It sounds like a child crying,” Lilou said. “A mortal child.”
They gave Ailwyn discreet looks before turning away to murmur amongst themselves.
“We’ll take in the child, obviously,” Emrys said, saving her from saying anything. She gave her a small smile and the other faerie nodded. Lilou and Stellan split from the party and returned a while later, holding a squirming bundle of blankets.
Ailwyn checked her hourglass; the sand was nearly all gone. “We have to return back to the entrance, now.” They hadn’t even checked the entire border. If she kept this up, she would never become a general.
Aurian grumbled as he got out of the water and they headed back.
Lilou hid the child in a bush not far from the entrance after rocking it to sleep. They wouldn't be allowed to just stroll in with a lost child, and especially not with a human one. Aurian volunteered to bribe the guards—after all, who didn’t like a few shiny coins?—and Emrys said she would go with Ailwyn in the dead of night to retrieve the child.
Ailwyn made the newcomer, Evian, swear to secrecy. She gave her word, and a faerie’s word was worth more than coin or land.
As the other groups returned, they pretended to be deep in conversation.
“When we return, make sure to write your reports and give them to me. General Ophelie herself will be looking these over.”

At midnight, Ailwyn and Emrys made their way to the entrance. There was no guard as promised and the door was open a crack. They pushed it open and Emrys rushed outside to retrieve the child while Ailwyn made sure no one saw.
Ailwyn eyed the bundle of blankets warily. If she could convince Ophelie to adopt the child, then all would be well. It could be given magic, ensuring its survival in the faerie world. It would always be cared for.
Faeries were explicitly forbidden from visiting mortal settlements, so returning the child to its parents was out of the question.
“Well, what shall we do with the mortal?” Emrys said, stepping inside. The child wrinkled its nose at Ailwyn and began to make noises.
“Hide it in our quarters for now,” Ailwyn replied, closing the entrance. The moss writhed back into place.

It turned out that taking care of a child was a lot more work that it seemed. For one, it was awake at all hours of the day. Unlike faerie children who could sleep for a day straight, human children couldn't sleep for more than a few hours before wailing. Lilou and Stellan would always be out getting food for the child, while Aurian and Emrys took care of the child.
“This is not sustainable, Ailwyn,” Aurian said one day, a few weeks after they’d retrieved the child. “When are you planning to tell Ophelie about this? Next year?”
She sighed and rubbed her temples, leaning back in her chair. Ailwyn, Lilou, Emrys, Aurian, and Stellan shared a room. Two sets of bunk beds and one cot took up most of the space with a table tucked away into an alcove.
“Fine,” she said, “I’ll talk to Ophelie tomorrow.”
There was a sharp rap on the door and Emrys hid the child in the alcove she was sitting at. It began to move around again at the sight of her and Ailwyn stepped away. It never cried when Emrys or Aurian played with it. But if she even so much as breathed near the child, it would begin to wail uncontrollably.
Aurian opened the door and two of the Queen’s personal guards stepped inside. They were dressed in white silks and each sported a blood-red silk sash, unlike regular knight’s dark blue uniform and silvery epaulettes.
“Ailwyn, Lord Aurian, Emrys, Lady Lilou and Stellan have been summoned to Her Majesty’s court tonight. Failure to show up will result in an immediate demotion of rank,” the faerie on the left said, holding out a scroll.
“May we ask why?” Emrys grabbed the scroll out of the guard’s hand and handed it back to Ailwyn. It was exactly what the guard had said, word-from-word.
“You will find out tonight,” the other guard replied, before they left.
Aurian and Emrys exchanged looks.
“I suppose all we can do is dress our finest,” Aurian said, locking the door.

An orchestra played a merry tune while the group of dancers completed their routine on stage. The nobility clapped and clinked glasses of wine.
Three large tables were set up, stretching from one end of the room to the other, laden with delicacies of all kinds, from meats and vegetables to frosted desserts. Aurian didn’t hesitate to grab a few pastries and stuff them in his mouth. He was dressed in a gold and black suit and had donned a circlet for the occasion.
“I suppose someone is going to ignore the fact that we were summoned here. By the Queen,” Lilou said, reaching over to take a piece of meat. She too was wearing a circlet, though hers was much more adorned, with sapphires and emeralds glittering in place. She wore a flowing dress of rose pink that looked like it was fashioned out of petals.
Emrys and Stellan were less dressed up, but both looked equally stunning in their dark-green outfits. Ailwyn was the only one in a simple navy coat.
The music faded away when Queen Ostara arrived. A drumroll began and the Folk dipped their heads to bow as she took her place on the dais. Her blue hair was tied up on her head in an intricate pattern, with filigree running through them. Her dress was a shimmering turquoise color that shifted as she walked. Butterflies fluttered around her and landed on her shoulders.
“We are here to discuss the sentence of five of your knights,” one of the queen’s advisors said in a booming voice. General Ophelie stood in front of the dais, arms crossed. She tossed her brown hair to one side and scanned the crowd. Her gaze fastened on Ailwyn’s.
“Ailwyn, your second-in-command, along with Lord Aurian, Emrys, Lady Lilou and Stellan have conspired with humans and brought one of their kind into our dwellings.”
Ophelie huffed and Ailwyn hurried forward to get a better look. Aurian munched on a piece of bread behind her.
“What evidence do you have?” Ophelie said, raising an eyebrow.
“Come forward,” called the advisor, and a set of side doors opened to reveal Evian. She didn’t spare them a second glance as she climbed the dais.
“I can confirm that Ailwyn herself travelled to a mortal settlement while we patrolled under the guise of ‘taking a walk’.”
“Those are lies!” Lilou shrieked, stepping forward. The nobility turned towards her.
“Can a faerie lie?” the advisor asked idly.
Lilou shook her head, trembling.
“That liar. We let her join our party and she goes and betrays us,” Emrys whispered to me. Stellan nodded furiously.
If the Queen wanted to hold up the farce that Evian couldn’t lie, there was nothing they could do about it.
“But we know some of us can lie,” the advisor continued, looking straight at Ailwyn. She refused to look away.
“Her parentage is no reason to not let her defend herself,” Ophelie said, but the Queen cut her off with a flourish of her hands.
“Ailwyn’s words are worth nothing,” Queen Ostara said, her words dripping contempt. “How can you expect us to believe a lying soul such as her?”
Ophelie said nothing.
“Come now,” the Queen said, beckoning Ailwyn forward. “Answer a few questions for me. Did you travel to a mortal settlement to conspire with their leaders?”
“No!” The High Court snickered and a few pointed at her. “I-I mean, I did not and would not travel to a mortal settlement to conspire with their leaders.”
“Her word is still worth something,” Ophelie said, but the Queen paid no attention.
“Ailwyn is clearly lying. Evian is incapable of lies and she saw everything. Your second-in-command,” the Queen said eyes flashing, “even tried to bribe Evian into silence.”
Ophelie whirled around to stare at Ailwyn, and it took all she had not to look away under the weight of her stare.
“For conspiring with mortals, lying to the High Court and bringing a mortal spy into our territory, Ailwyn will be sentenced to two hundred years outside our walls. She will take that mortal spy with her. And for Evian’s bravery and honesty, she will be made a general.”
Lilou and Aurian cried out but it all seemed like a haze to Ailwyn. Two hundred…years? Two hundred years was a long time, enough for the entire monarchy to fall apart and a new one to take its place. The Queen intended for Ailwyn to be forgotten outside the walls of the faerie world.
“Please reconsider—” Ophelie pleaded, but the Queen was already motioning for the musicians to start another ballad. The nobility disbanded to dance and the five of them were left alone.
“Ailwyn,” Emrys began, but she pushed her away. In one evening, everything had been taken away from her. If it had been any other faerie, they would have done a proper investigation, taken their time with the sentence. But just because she had a bit of mortal blood running through her veins, they paid her no heed.
She had been foolish to think she would ever be able to become a general.
She had been foolish to think she was destined for anything greater than a knight.
And she had been so, so foolish to help that mortal child.
Two of the Queen’s guards approached her and pulled her away. Emrys grabbed at her hands and the others crowded around, but the guards pushed past them, dragging Ailwyn along. As the seconds passed, the Queen’s ruling weighed down on her. It really was happening.
“No—wait—” Aurian cried out as Lilou glared at the guards.
They swept Ailwyn away and took her back to her quarters, where she found the mortal child, the so-called ‘spy’ and gathered her belongings into a sack. They brought her to the entrance and shoved her outside, closing the door with a thud.
Two hundred years.
They were in a field of flowers, a clear blue sky stretching overhead, with jagged peaks rising up in the distance. Smoke swirled behind a cluster of trees, and when she looked closer she saw cottages dotting the hillside.
Two hundred years.
All faeries had a fate; it was one of the earliest things they learned. They had a purpose in life, either to serve the Queen or live life outside the faerie realm. Ailwyn had been so sure that she had her purpose all figured out.
She slung her sack over her shoulder and picked up the child. It would be a few hours until she reached the mortal settlement.

━━━▣━━━

The Promise of a Fey

Under a canopy of moss dotted through with purple flowers and shimmering baubles sat a throne carved from stone. Atop the throne sat a fey with dark green hair and pointed ears. A golden circlet shone through her dark locks, catching the light of the baubles.
“I promise,” said the mortal girl at the foot of the dais. She was small, with mousy hair and dressed in a patched cloak and scuffed leather boots.
“Do you know what you’re getting yourself into?” I asked, striding forward, ignoring the glare Lady Cetai levelled at me. Interfering in her business was a definite overstep of my power, but at this moment it didn’t seem to matter. Whatever punishment I faced later would be worth it, as long as this girl understood the intensity that her words held here, in the Court of Resonance.
The girl glanced at me and something flickered in her eyes before a calmness seemed to settle upon her. “I’m sure.”
Cetai sat straighter on the throne, and I took that as my cue to step aside. I’d done all I needed to do. All I could have done. The rest was the girl’s fate.
“Then promise me this, You will take the herbs back to your little village, but you must return in a fortnight to begin your payment. If you fail to do so, we will find you and bring your entire village under our banner.”
“I promise,” the girl said. A table with a scroll appeared before her and she signed it.
“One more thing,” Cetai said, a saccharine smile twisting her lips. “I will require your full name.”
“It’s Eloisa,” she said.
“On paper. Write it down on paper, girl,” Cetai snapped, leaning back on her throne.
“Please,” I murmured to Cetai. “She doesn’t understand not to give her name.”
“‘Please’ is a trivial word,” she responded, clicking her tongue. “You would be wise to remember how I took you in when you had nothing.”
I bit my tongue. Sometimes I had a habit of letting my old words come through. The fey did not hold much stock in the words ‘please’ and ‘thank you.’ For them, it was almost an insult.
The girl recited her name and Cetai handed me a packet of herbs. “Do not forget your promise, girl,” she added, before disappearing.

A fortnight came and went, yet the girl was nowhere to be seen.
I passed Cetai a goblet of wine as a troupe of musicians played a merry tune in the grove nearby. Small sprites and pixies darted in and out of the bushes lining the clearing, and a group of lanterns bobbed in midair. She preferred to eat outdoors under a star-filled sky and the sound of nighttime birds.
“Has the girl arrived yet?”
“I haven’t had time to check, my lady.”
“Lies.” Cetai stood up and the music came to a skittering stop before it started up again, hesitant and uneven. She threw her jewels down on the table and began to leave.
“My lady,” I called out. “I will search for her and convince her to come.”
By the time I reached the edge of the clearing, she was gone.

I arrived in the mortal settlement at dawn, bleary-eyed and ready to collapse from exhaustion. Fey preferred to dwell in the night, and mortals stayed awake during the day. It made any sort of communication between the two difficult.
I passed shops selling all sorts of baked goods, exquisite gowns and a small bookstore. The words “Lena’s Nook” were written in sprawling letters across the blue-and-purple striped awning. Eloisa was at the entrance of the bookstore.
“What do you want to do today?” she called into the store. I heard a muffled reply and her laughter.
I cleared my throat. Her eyes widened when she saw me.
“You,” I began. “You must return at once.”
“You can’t drag me back based on some half-baked promise; I’m in the middle of a city square.” She scowled and crossed her arms.
“Do you remember how I asked you if you knew what you were getting into? You should have known the power your promise held. This isn’t like some trivial mortal promise, where you can break it anytime you wish without repercussions—”
“All you fey are the same,” she interrupted. “You think mortals are lying creatures, even though we keep our promises just like you. I will fulfill my promise, just not now.”
“You said you would return in a fortnight. You have to hold up your side of the bargain.”
“Leave before I have the city guards drag you out of here, fey. It’s illegal for you to even be here,” she said with contempt before turning on her heel.
I pressed my lips together.
It took me the entire day to retrace my steps and trudge back towards the entrance of the Court. The guards let me in and I went to the throne room immediately.
“The girl says she will fulfill her promise at a later time,” I said with a heavy voice.
Cetai looked up from the scroll of parchment she was reading. “The deal was for a fortnight.” She stood up. “I knew something like this would happen. It’s a good thing I got her name.” A cold smile twisted her lips as she approached me. “Don’t you agree?” she whispered, before leaving.
If a mortal knew the full name of a fey, they had the upper hand. Same went for fey who learned of a mortal’s full name by the mortal themself, and was given willingly. It was a small loophole in the ancient laws, and fey loved to exploit it.
I hurried after her, struggling to keep up with her long strides. “May I speak to her once more,” I implored.
Cetai ignored me and called for guards. She would visit the mortal settlement herself the next day to reap her promise.

I left a little earlier than Cetai. It wasn’t like she’d explicitly told me not to. Eloisa was at the same spot I’d seen her yesterday.
“She’s coming to get you,” I said, grabbing her arm.
She snarled, slapping it away. “I don’t care. She can’t do anything to me here.”
“You don’t understand. You promised. Once you utter those words in front of a fey, they bind you. You are forced to carry out your promise.”
“Says who?”
“Did she make you sign a document with your promise explicitly written out on paper?” I probed, digging through my pocket to find my quill.
“Yes, I think so. Why? Why does any of it matter? They’re just words.”
“And you wrote down your full name? Willingly?”
“Yes. So what?”
“But you promised,” I burst out. After centuries of seeing deals made and promises signed, one began to give importance to one’s words. Especially in a place like the Court of Resonance. “You still aren’t listening to me. Words matter. What you say will stay with you for the rest of your life.”
“You’re just like those fey from the tales, who just want to trick me. I suppose I could find some iron to ward you off.”
“You can use all the iron you want,” I snapped back.
“You’re bluffing. What do you want?” She scuffed her feet on the ground.
“Two centuries ago, there was a girl named Lin in the same position as you—”
“And tell me why I should care,” she drawled, rolling her eyes.
I continued as if I hadn’t heard her. “Her brother was dying, and she needed a cure. She approached Lady Cetai for the cure and promised to serve her for a decade. But they were just words, weren’t they?” I shook my head sadly. “She thought she could ignore her promise. But it didn’t matter in the end, because she had to go back. Her punishment for evading her end of the deal was to serve Lady Cetai for a millennium.” I grasped her hands. “I don’t want that to happen to you. It’s a miserable existence with the fey. The sun will never shine and you will never see your family.”
Eloisa scrunched her eyebrows and backed away from me. “But a fortnight has passed. What do I do now?” she cried.
“Turn yourself in and hope for a lighter sentence,” I suggested.
“No,” she said, pushing open the door of the bookstore. “I’d rather run away then beg for forgiveness.”
“I—that’s even worse. Just turn yourself in. The girl I was telling you about—”
The door slammed in my face. I sighed.
In an hour, Lady Cetai would be here, and if Eloisa tried to run it wouldn't be hard to find her. There were only so many places she could hide in the settlement, and if she left for the forest surrounding the city, it would be far too easy to spot her.
At this point, she’d signed her own fate. There was nothing left for me to do.

“You should be thrilled,” Cetai informed me as she adorned herself in jewels before the mirror. “I only require one mortal to serve me.”
I handed her the golden circlet she usually liked to wear, but she pushed it aside in favor of the laurel of gold.
We left at midmorning upon two steeds. They were made of bone and enchanted so that their eyes glowed a sickly green, lighting the way for fey who couldn't see as well in the dark. Cetai mounted in one graceful flourish.
When we got to the settlement, she was nowhere to be found.
“Where is the girl,” she snarled.
“I don’t know,” I muttered.
“Liar. If she thinks she can run away, she can serve me for a millennia. Do you want her to suffer that fate?”
“It’s not in my hands, my lady.”
Cetai brought out the scroll of parchment she’d been reading earlier. She stroked the edge of the parchment, and it burst into light. I closed my eyes and clapped my hands over my face. There were screams and when I looked up again, Eloisa was on the ground, clutching a sack of food.
“For daring to break your promise,” she began, “and then choosing to run away, you will serve me for a millennium. In exchange,” she glanced at me and smiled, “you will be released from your sentence.”
Fey couldn’t lie, and nothing she’d said gave me any indication this was a trap. This was really happening. I would finally be released from my service in exchange for Eloisa.
I slid off my steed and hit the ground with a thud.
“Wait!” Eloisa cried out. I turned away without meeting her eyes. I’d done everything I needed to do.
While she didn’t understand the gravity of her words now, she would in the coming decades. Once she made a promise and struck a deal with the fey, it was law. Her words were more than squiggles on a paper. They had the potential to be used as a weapon, and the fey knew this all too well. They could ensnare and trap, or free and embolden. It all depended on who was wielding these words.
Eloisa hadn’t thought much when she’d hastily made the deal. For her it was just words after all. For me, it was a lifetime of mistakes.
As I departed, I gave one last look to Lady Cetai of the Court of Resonance.
She looked back and smiled. “Goodbye, Lin. May the rest of your life serve you well.”

━━━━━━☽ • ☾━━━━━

Header Graphic by Mkalyss

xxxxx

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