There!
Several pillars of smoke rising above the tree line, up into the heavens. Not too far away from the source of the smoke, she could see the top of a windmill. A grin split her face.
She slid back down the tree, letting go completely of the trunk and branches a few meters above the ground to speed her descent. Following the direction, she knew the smoke had come from, she raced through the woods, applying the use of her tendrils to make traversing through the trees as streamlined and graceful as possible.
She knew she was getting close, it was so close.
A whip of golden light shot out, wrapping around her legs, pulling them out from underneath her.
Her face met the unforgiving earth. Hard.
Pulling herself up as best she could – as her legs had been tied together by the whip – she looked around. A dagger of ice already in hand.
From out the woods, two figures dressed in armour of yellows and reds. One was female if the curvature of the armour was anything to go by; she wore a thick helm, just as thick as her armour with a longsword by her side. She was also the one holding the whip.
The other had taken off his helm, revealing the thin and relatively handsome features of the Fae. His armour was light and sleek with hues of yellows and greens. Obviously, he was the tracker, and his companion was the muscle. What was worse, was that their outfits and overall presence denoted them as Summer Fae.
The male Fae stepped forwards imperiously, “You were quite difficult to find, little half-breed.”
Maeve did not answer, only choosing to glare down the two. Feigning innocence or even pleading for her life was useless. The former because they would see right through the lie and the latter because the two Courts, the Summer and Winter, loathed each other.
“Silent, eh?” he smirked and stepped forwards, “Why not make it permane-”
“What is going on here!” a powerful, booming voice reverberated around the forest. All three Fae turned to face the intruder. A man, tall and lanky dressed in the garb of a common farmer, a disappointing visage when compared to the voice that spoke, but the simple presence of the man told a different story. His pale eyes were as hard as ice, seemingly glowing through the mop of long and black bedraggled hair barely held in place by a brown ribbon ponytail, as he looked between the Seelie and Unseelie. “What is your business here, Fae.” It was less a question, more a demand as he glared down the two Summer Fae.
The Summer Fae with the pike answered, “We’re just hunting down the little half-breed, my good si-.” the fairy’s voice stalled. His eyes narrowed, glaring down the unperturbed man before breaking out into maddening laughter, “It seems like someone’s been consorting with the Winter Fae.”
The unknown man tightened his grip on his sword, his body sinking into a defensive position.
“So unfriendly,” the Fae continued, still smiling gleefully, “It must be Winter’s touch. You could redeem yourself you know, help us kill the half-breed and we’ll purify your soul lickety-spl-”
In a second, the man shot out his hand; the air around the limb distorted and fog seeped from his fingers. A second later, and a spear of ice shot from his hand. Surprised, the Fae only had a few seconds to quickly move out the way before he was impaled. With a pirouette, the Fae swung his pike and shattered the icicle mid-air.
The Fae with the whip flicked her weapon, releasing Maeve as he joined the fray against the mortal man who was holding up surprisingly well against the Summer Fae. Capitalising on the moment, Maeve shot to her feet and used wings to lung forwards at the second Fae as he charged down the interloping mage.
She summoned a dagger of ice in her hands and charged the unsuspecting fairy. Her aim was true as her weapon found itself embedded into the back of the Fae’s knee.
A hand came swinging, and slammed into the side of her head, flinging her away from the injured fairy.
Looking up with dazed eyes, she saw the fairy fall to the floor as he tried to rip the weapon from the back of his leg. It was all for nought as the human’s blade came swinging and cut deeply into the Fae.
The first Fae tried to flee, six tendrils of sunlight burst from his back, unravelling into large leaf shaped sheets of solid light. He tried to take off, but before he could a small knife flew through the air, slicing into one of the great wings.
He screamed, and Maeve used her own tendrils to down the man, latching onto his leg and pulling.
The Fae slammed into the ground with a resounding thud. He tried to get up, but the mage had other plans. With a muttered incantation and intricate gestures with his hands, clumps of ice shot from the ground and latched onto the fairy’s wrists.
The Fae shouted incoherently, cursing both the mage and the half-breed to oblivion until he was finally silenced by a sword to the neck.
For a few moments, the half-breed and the magi just stood there, recovering from the fight. Then the man spoke, “What’s your name, kid.” Casually cleaned off the blood from his blade, using the clothes from the dead Fae as a makeshift cloth.
Maeve stayed quiet, knowing the dangers of willingly giving up her name.
“Oh yeah, almost forgot,” the man said, seemingly reading her mind, “Your people and your names. How about a trade; a name for a name?”
Maeve thought it over, the mage had saved her life and, if the Summer Fae were to be believed, was an ally of the Unseelie. She nodded her head, “Okay.”
“Alphonse.”
Maeve froze, looking up at the human, her eyes wide, “Father?” she asked, her hand subconsciously gripping tightly to the package behind her.
He recoiled, looking quite shocked at the child’s exclamation. He looked to the girl, as if seeing her in a new light, “You’re Avette’s?”
She nodded, “I’m Maeve Ada, daughter of Avette.” She slid the package from her back, ready to present it to the man who sired her, but hesitated. No. she thought, hugging the leather-bound package. I won’t put him in danger by letting him know.
Through all this, Alphonse had been looking at the girl. He did not press about the package, though not for a lack of trying. After all, his mind was still spinning at the idea of meeting his first, and only, born child. “…So, you’re my daughter? Uh… my da’s going to kill me.”
“If he touches you I will rip him limb from limb,” Maeve growled. She had already lost one of her parents, she was not going to lose another.
“I was exaggerating,” He replied dryly, his hands raised in mock defence. He paused, then raked his eyes across the surrounding woods, “So, where’s Avette?”
“Mother… she’s dead. She told me to come find you. She wanted you to deliver this to the Unseelie.” She grabbed the leather wrapped artefact, but paused upon seeing her father’s face.
He stood still as he gazed down at her, his eyes dulled and laced with melancholy. He bent down to the young Unselieen half-breed, their eyes levelled and Maeve could see the void in his eyes become awash kindness, “You look so much like her.”
The next second, his arms wrapped around her tightly.
She tensed as if expecting an attack, but when it sank in, she returned the act ten times over.
“Come on… let's go home.”
Comments (0)
See all