fae things


The Cat, the Fox, and the Raven is my WIP novel about the boy, who was claimed by a fae prince during a battle and thus is destined to be owned by him.

They both, bound when the boy was still very young, go to fulfill an ancient prophecy, and stop the awakening fae god.

He didn’t remember much of the great war between people and the kilyans of the fae. As if the fog had covered his senses, and he collapsed into and under the ground, cold, hard, but at the same time so sensual and inviting. At least he imagined it like that, he wanted it. He wanted to disappear when the fae were killing his friends, his brothers. He tried to use the sword, but he was too young to be able to use it properly. Another boy used as cannon fodder, another insignificant young life, the thread cut too early. The kilyan mages didn’t even have to enter the battlefield to sweep enemies from the face of the earth with spells that people could not even dream of. Tiyo could only try to not be brutally killed.

The battle in which he took part then was particularly brutal. The King of kilyans threw Krithars at the humans. The beasts tore apart their victims with bony claws and bloodstained double jaws, with teeth that resembled steel, were consuming parts of the bodies, after the cruel dismemberment. Fae possibly thought about their unnatural hunger, creating them. It caused more fear and kilyans loved when humans feared them.

Tiyo was twelve at the time, but his face was covered with blood and tears flowed from his eyes. Fear or regret, anger or despair, did it matter? Where were the saru of the fae who protected them from their demonic brothers? Where are the good beings who promised them peace and keeping the Dark Folk on a leash?

Crying or rather sobbing from fear, he threw the useless sword on the ground, smearing his tears with his hands. Fae didn’t attack him, he pondered why. Actually, he didn’t ponder, he just felt that they pass by, aiming at adult men, whose screams pierced the thick air and who opposed with brutality characterizing only lost cause.

Tiyo saw as the fae warrior, tall, without any armour but covered with fog, looks at him but passes him by again, his face expressing amused scorn.

That made him angry for some reason. Why they don’t attack him, like he was so easy to remove that removal was not necessary. The birds of prey already circled the air and their eyes were following not only the dead men on the battlefield but also the boy.

“FIGHT, COWARD!!” he heard a yell at his right and he saw human soldier, whole in blue blood of the fae. His sword was dripping of the fluid that once was running through fae’ veins. Somehow that made him sad. Even if the war was not his fault, he felt guilty that so many fae and his own people die this night.

He tried to pick up the sword to somehow listen to an unknown man and fight, do something to not be a complete failure, but his hands went numb suddenly, the air thickened even more as it came from the oven.

Tiyo felt a spell in his side. There was no blood, just a feeling of hollowing and pain. He looked slowly, helplessly, ahead and saw the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. Faint, almost transparent eyes were looking at him coldly, long white hair was moving in the wind, and his long face, characteristic to kilyans, didn’t express the rage that usually accompanied the battle between sworn enemies. It was an idle face, indifferent, with no resentment to it, but showing so much contempt that Tiyo shivered. The penetrating spell continued to roll into his body, a moan escaped his throat, silent, insipid, despite the pain he felt was unbearable. Fae approached him slowly, and a spear appeared in his hand with slender fingers. Tiyo thought senselessly that it was more beautiful than the shee who held it.

Kilyan, silent, beautiful and indifferent, standing in the middle of the battlefield, as if everything around him didn’t concern him at all, as if he could not be hit by the enemy, slowly lifted the aisle. Tiyo, tired, hurt by the pain caused by the spell, a human child who didn’t even have the strength to scream, fell to the blood-soaked earth. It smelled of iron, but also the strange scent of grass that the fae’s blood was given. There was not even grass here, he thought suddenly, feeling that he was going to pass out soon, the pain made him numb; the krithar’s crumbled grass, the soil stained by the blood of the fighting armies, there was no life here.

He waited for the blow. Kilyan elicited some sounds in his delicate tongue that sounded like liquid sleep. Tiyo didn’t want to fight anymore. He had enough, enough of his father, who told him to fight, even though he was still a child; of the fae that they existed at all, of King Robhar, who thought he could fight magic. Kill me, kill me, take this pain away. The boy curled up in a fetal position, wishing everything that was going on around him would end.

Then he felt a terrifying cold. Death. Kilyan hit me, and I’m so bemused that I didn’t even notice. But after a few seconds, Tiyo realized that the cold doesn’t touch him, it flows around him. The white-haired magician fae began to speak to someone, quickly, with a fuss. In response, he obtained a murmur that might well belong to a man or a raging storm. There was a primordial power in it that scared the boy more than the fight, more than the blood around him.

‘Us’slu man’ki sarra’l’ this time soft, voice rang over his shaky body. Tiyo was afraid to look at who said it, fearing to see the owner of the voice. He felt that there was cold evil in him, petrified cruelty.

Tiyo did not understand what the shee said, but suddenly his body became warm, replacing the paralyzing cold. The boy dared to lift his eyes slightly, but he saw only two hazy spots: bright, certainly belonging to the white-haired kilyan, dressed in white robes. The second one was completely black. The picture in front of his eyes began to jump, Tiyo seemed to see two black holes instead of eyes, gaping in emptiness, reminiscent of the infinite night and depth of the ocean that his father traversed on a freighter, a metal colossus that housed thousands of people. Fae didn’t use metal, only light and night. Even the white-haired’s spear was created from the pure ray of the sun.

Black eyes drilled into his soul. He did not see them exactly, but he knew they were there. The black kilyan seemed to grow in his mind, reaching the height of the colossus similar to the ship his father worked at; the monument. Panic seized him, but he couldn’t get up, he was too weak, although the spell didn’t cause the pain anymore, he didn’t notice when the mage shee stopped attacking him.

He closed his eyes, feeling the black fae leans over him. He smelled the scent of flowers and the rain-washed world after the storm.

‘Do not … do not kill me …’ Tiyo managed to say only these few words. But fae laughed, it sounded like someone was playing on the bells.

‘Human child’ he said in the language of Sorgon, his language. ‘You have been sent in too early’ the tone of his voice lowered, passed into a whisper when the cold breath of the shee touched his neck. ‘But children are precious prey. You should not be here, but I will never let the promise possibility pass before my eyes…’

Tiyo, dazed with the scent of flowers and kilyan’s soft voice, could not restrain his sleep. They will kill him, they will kill him now…

The boy fainted, his last word was ‘please’.

‘You’re pleading?’ the tone of the voice was amused. “I am here to fulfill your plea.’

But Tiyo didn’t hear him anymore. The battle lasted, the fae eliminated people in a bone-chilling rate, but he laid as if surrounded by a protective bubble as if the entire war between kilyans and humans didn’t concern him. He slept like a child he was.

He slept without dreams, while the empire of the people was overcome by the shee forces.

Above the battlefield, now deserted, snow fell, thick and freezing. Snow, which has always prevailed in the lands taken over by kilyans. The fae kingdom took over the human’s, even the weather testified. Someone carried Tiyo, someone with eyes black as coal and black hair, like raven’s feathers.