The Girl Who Loved Fairies, Part 3

It was never quite established how the ruinous force that was known to most as the Gash Ken'Nigh Legions began. The most popular story was that two kingdoms had heirs of an unfortunate mental bent come to power and originally were going to make war on each other. Somehow, the two had discovered that the other was delightfully mad as the other, and had decided to merge forces and go after the world instead. There were other stories, but considering they consisted of such tales as 'a demon bled into a river and every drop became a Gash Kne'Nigh soldier' and 'a witch stole all the hairs from every bear in a forest and due to the curse of the bears, the bare bears (heh), they all became soldiers and decided to go cause trouble', most gave credit to the two kingdoms theory.

In truth, the Gash Ken'Nigh has begun through the efforts of three brothers, Naaran, Batar, and Setseg, uniting their horse-based warrior tribes and overthrowing the kingdom of Colao, later known as Sylphlaw (perhaps the grounds were cursed). The king of Colao had dabbled in the arcane, but the three brothers, in looking the kingdom, discovered they were far better hands at it, using the spells to twist men's wills to theirs and turn their already fearsome army into a semi-assimilating mass. Despite this boon, it would not keep Naaran and Setseg from falling prey to assassination attempts, leaving just Batar, and shortly thereafter, his son Gerel, as the sole leaders of their legions. From his loss, Batar learned the importance of appearing unimportant, and he and his son changed their commanding strategies to blend in among their troops, issuing them orders on the sly. If they hadn't had dark magic at their side, such a tactic may not have worked...but they did. And it did.

The end result was by the time the Gash Kne'Nigh came to the empire of Ilachi, no one knew who directed him, and that only added to the terror they brought, an overwhelming crushing mass of men and weapons and death that turned loyal soldiers into slaves and who had been said to best sieges by pulling down castles brick by brick with the bare hands of their men. By that time, Batar had died of illness, and only Gerel led, one face among many, his lone goal conquest and destruction until he no longer had the taste for it. What was truth and what was myth was sometimes hard to tell, but it was clear that whatever stood against the legions, the empire of Ilachi would not be what broke them. It had armies too...half the size of the Gash Kne'Nigh.

If King Eliseo had any regrets, it was that he'd had to execute a few of his closest advisers over what he had chosen to do. He hadn't wanted to, but he could brook no opposition to what he had chosen to do, and they had made it clear they wouldn't come around to his viewpoint. Such a choice he had made required a united front, and there could be no dissent. None. Not with what was bearing down on them. Not what was firing rocks and giant flaming spears at his kingdom, as he, a few guards, and who he had come to to save his people stood on top of the highest tower in his kingdom.

"Tell me again what you want." The woman said.

Eliseo had expected many things when he had finally found this woman. Her stories were even more distorted, and twisted, than the stories of the Gash Kne'Nigh, and he had expected a certain presentation, a certain visage. For the most part, she had not 'disappointed'. Her skin, her eyes, her way of dress, all of it spoke of what she was...

Save the wings. The wings had been what had thrown him (not that he had shown it). Well, that, and she had accepted his offer. Haruspex were supposed to be butchers in the shadows; this one was...more open, to say the least. Eliseo had wanted to bring her in as a assassin, but she had insisted on seeing the whole battlefield, as thousand upon thousands of men fought and died.

"...Stop them!" Eliseo said.

"What price will you pay?"

"...anything you want. Just...stop them!" Eliseo said. The advisers he had executed had told him that trusting a woman, a creature like this, was a fool's errand. They just did not grasp what Eliseo had been forced to. There was no way his people could oppose the Gash Kne'Nigh. They would cut down his troops (if they didn't convert them), and then sack his empire, kill every last man woman and child, and leave nothing behind but ruin and violation. The advisers had wanted to stand; there WAS no standing. There was only horrible death, and worse...and then there were deals like this.

Eliseo hoped history would understand. It would not, as his name would not be marked upon its pages.

"...why do you want me to stop them?"

"...to protect my family. And my people." Eliseo said. It was the truth, as far as he was concerned.

"...So be it then."

The woman raised her hand...and his city SCREAMED.

Eliseo had neither the training nor the mindset to grasp what Canaught had done, what she had pulled from who-knew how many people below as she broke it down for fuel. The sheer horror of it, despite this lack of understanding, washed over him and drove him to his knees, even as a thousand dark glimmers began swirling around the tall tower...

Canaught turned. She made a fist, and the darkness spawned above the clashing armies, clouds as black as pitch...clouds that surged out, forming taloned hands that also formed a fist...

Gerel never knew what hit him. He was one of the many, many first dead as the mountain-sized fist smashed down into the ranks of the clashing arms, smashing and tearing and rending them apart like they were insects caught in a hurricane, a tide of force and bodies and much worse erupting outwards from the impact, men dying in droves at a speed beyond comprehension. Gerel had his own magicians, but none of them even had a chance to raise a counter-spell before Canaught's doom came down upon them.

Them and Eliseo's own men. She had smashed her mighty hand directly into the middle of the battlefield, and he screamed at this realization, even as the darkness swirled around the tower...

He'd been wrong. There was no good choice here. Only a choice of horrors...but one Eliseo had been ready for. You do not put your fate in someone else's hands and not prepare other hands to snatch it away. As strong as this freakish, monstrous Haruspex was, her spells all came from a certain bent. Eliseo had his own resources, and he'd had his two guards prepared by them. Covered with protective runes, they would stave off her power long enough for them to cut her down, for behind all that terrible strength was just a normal woman...

...But he was wrong there too. Canaught turned around, and for the first time, there was something in her eyes. Even as they glowed crimson.

Image/Avatars courtesy of Vertigo Comics.

The soldiers turned to ash even before they finished falling. Eliseo could only watch in helpless, mortal fear as his ace in the hole crapped out.

Then all he could watch was the Haruspex.

Ditto.

The darkness she commanded lifted him up. Brought him close.

"They felt nothing, those I just slew. But those you just turned on me? They felt that. And so will every other soul I cut down today. As per your command. Your family. Your people. The latter is far more numerous, and hence they can afford to die. As per your command."

"...But..."

"It's true I could not touch them with what I learned. But I am more than that. More than a Word. That, they had no defense against."

"...Monster."

"I did as you said. It is your folly that you had to turn to me to do it." Canaught said. "Had you given me more specific commands, I would have obeyed. But you did not. Now you will reap the consequences."

King Eliseo was released, all strength leaving him.

"I am coming to a conclusion..." Canught said. "When the world was made, my material was set aside first. And the world was made with what was left."

"...hateful...SHADE."

"Call me what you will. I am what I am. You will never forget this day."

Canught turned and flew off the tower, the consuming darkness engulfing her, turning her into another gigantic clawing hand. When it was all said and done, there were few survivors on either side, as the cloud of darkness and death she had become swept across the battlefield until there was no more war.

The darkness never left Colao. In time, it crumbled to dust.

Canught walked on when it was done. To her...a brief respite had been achieved.

She suspected there would not be much left in this world to wring the ennui that had gripped her ever since she had been pulled from the river.

On that day, maybe...she'd have something worthwhile to do.

The Girl Who Loved Fairies, Part 2

"This has no point, Rera."

"The great discoveries, Erikodi, are granted to those who look beyond the obvious at the right time." Rera said. She was in one of her 'bad light' days: to intimidate, she smeared her black skin with white makeup around her eyes and mouth. In the correct lighting, it looked terrifying, like a skull. In the wrong light, it made her look like a raccoon that had gotten into the wrong compost pile. Today was one of the latter days.

"She still breathes, but there's nothing in her eyes. She was in the water too long. You may as well try and re-animate a corpse. Her only real worth is parts."

"You have spent too long in the reaping, Erikodi. All of you do. Indulging in death like it's a new plant to smoke instead of a sacred art." Rera said, walking around the alter where the fallen body of Royse lay, wrapped in dark red and green clothes, her head shorn of hair. If it wasn't for how pale she was, she'd seem just like another girl sleeping. "We craft the Therians to shake off wounds. The same matter can be applied here!"

"The beasts are crafted by us more or less from birth. You cannot pluck a corpse-"

"It is not a corpse!"

"...A near corpse from the river and do the same thing."

"So you say. Had you come to me two hundred years ago, I would have told you there was no way I would be alive now." Rera said, as she began lighting foul smelling candles.

"I will assist as you asked, but do not expect me to linger once this has the expected results and you beat yourself on a stone wall in denial."

"Yes yes...use the mixture, close the circle around me."

She didn't want to admit it, but Erikodi, once known as Aldreda before her mother had succumbed to madness and the town she (and Erikodi) had been in had thrown her out (after said madness had claimed her mother's life as well) in their fear it was in the blood, before she'd been taken in, and trained, and given a new name, was somewhat impressed by the work Rera had done. Her kind did not work together, or even meet much, save to welcome each other into the fold and direct them to the sheep, and hence Erikodi would likely sooner walk on hot coals then admit it. But Rera did have some interesting ideas, even if Erikodi thought they were futile.

At least, that was how Erikodi thought when the ritual began.

By the time the air caught on fire, she had re-assessed it to madness. Rera was decaying, like some Haruspex did, and she had dragged Erikodi into it.

When the holes in the air had opened, Erokodi, refusing to leave her circle lest worse happen, had crossed to terror.

When it was all over, and the girl opened her eyes...it had become something else entirely.

Awe.

The flatness of the girl's gaze, a lack of confusion or fear, the calmness in her voice, should have been warning signs, but none of them registered to Erikodi. This hadn't been dragging a corpse back from the brink. This had been something MORE...she could feel it in her bones...

---
Ten years later.

Said feelings never changed.

Erikodi would watch as the girl, brought back through strange things that flowed through her, was invited into the order of blood and death. She watched as she took her name: Canaught. She watched as the sacrifice was brought out.

It only wavered when the woman began to weep, and Canaught did not bring the knife down. Instead, she stood and listened. Listened even as the whispers began to spread. As the sacrifice sobbed and begged and pleaded. Until the sacrifice had no more words.

She did not bring the knife down until twenty seconds after the sacrifice had no more words. Her sisters would later laud it as exquisite, drawing it out, feigning mercy. But Erikodi knew better.

Many years later, her writings would be read by other beings of power. But despite her efforts, that understanding had been lost.

---

She could feel it. Inside her. Burning away. Wasting away. It had cut through all her defenses like a knife through curds.

What struck Rera as she collapsed, looking at her student, the girl she had pulled back, the girl she had NAMED (Canaught, as the girl never cared for a name, even when she was supposed to pick one, she had never cared about anything, she learned and she listened but she never cared), was that there was no indication it had been coming. Rera had been ready for possible hidden ambition, or hatred, but the idea that her student would reach out and kill her so passively and so...pointlessly had never occurred to her. Done this way, it accomplished nothing.

It was the only reason she spoke.

"...Why?"

Canaught's lone answer was her ever-steady, ever flat, ever empty gaze. The last thought Rera had before she burned up from within was the artistry of the power. Like nothing any Haruspex had ever shown before. The gift she had accidentally given the girl who once loved fairies.

Canught took nothing as she left. She didn't destroy anything either. A younger Haruspex named Harit would later discover what Rera and Canught had left behind and work her own great evils with it, but that is another tale.

The first thing Canaught did as a free woman was walk to the nearest field and sit there for three days.

When she was done, she left the same way she'd come.

The Girl Who Loved Fairies, Part 1

They told Royse that yellowmane stems were full of milk, but to Royse, they were full of yuckiness.

Adults didn't understand anything, especially not mother. How strange to call her mother; Royse was certain she would never use the word again after her mother died. But father had met Eda, and despite Royse not liking Eda and Hrodohaidis (who Royse would always call 'Hodie' because her actual name was impossible to say, what WAS mother thinking?), father believed Royse needed a new mother and so they had wed. Royse had resisted mightily, as much as a seven year old could, but Eda was nice and eventually Royse had realized she did like having a new mother. She didn't really like Hodie, but maybe that would change too.

At least Hodie believed in fairies. Mother and father kept telling her they weren't real, that they were just in her storybooks, but Royse knew she was wrong. Fairies just didn't show themselves to those who didn't believe, so mother and father couldn't see them even if they were flapping in front of their noses. But Royse believed, and one day, she'd find one. She would open her hands, and the fairy would dance on them, and they would fly into the sky, to dance among the stars.

Which is why she was out, even though it threatened rain. Hodie might be cross, but Royse could tell she wanted to be inside with her nose stuck in a dumb book that didn't have stories about fairies and other special things Royse wanted to find one day. She could outrun Hodie anyway, and Hodie always got so weird when she tried to scold, not like Eda. So Royse, in her battered dress and shoes, dirty black hair tied loosely behind her, crept through the tall grass. Sometimes she found bugs, what humans called dragonflies, but she knew they were not fairies. But sometimes she heard things, things she knew were just not the wind...and one day she'd find them, dancing and laughing, and they'd fly together...

The blast of thunder startled Royse so much that she fell down, mud squelching beneath her hands and her rear. Her mother would complain again...but she'd complain more if Royse came back soaked to the skin. She'd fall ill, like Hodie had years ago, mother had mentioned it more than once, how close it seemed that Hodie had come to dying. She could ignore when Hodie was mad, but not mother. She had to get home.

The grass parted around her as she ran, heading for their house. She was some distance away from the bridge over the river, but that was okay. The river was shallow, even Royse could easily pass it, the bridge was for ease in getting the wagon over...

But the rainfall had fallen in great amounts in the distance, and its legacy had even touched the river. Royse had not noticed it when she'd gone into the fields over the bridge, but coming back in a more direct way, she could see how swollen it had gotten, how much fiercer it flowed. Rocks she easily jumped across were barely visible...

The rain was starting to fall. If she went for the bridge, she'd be soaked to the skin by the time she got home...to a young child, the choice was obvious.

The river raged around her as she began to hop across the rocks. Slick with water, she did not feel as balanced as she normally would, but she'd always been good at climbing things (the closest thing to flying), she had a strong sense of how to stay on her feet. She just had to focus on the rocks and make a few more hops. One, two. One. One, two, one...

The tree standing by the bridge had been there since her father was her age, or so he said. One can hardly blame Royse for its time of death, as lightning struck it in mid leap, a blast of fire and brilliance that seemed to slap the girl, cost her her vision, her surity of foot.

Royse was pretty sure she heard someone calling for her, but that fact was swiftly consumed by the cold water. All sense of the world was rapidly torn away. She couldn't breath. She didn't know which way was up. She couldn't find the surface, the water running into her mouth, and it wasn't like drinking, it hurt...

The hands seized her, Royse spitting water and gasping for air as she was finally freed from the river's cruel grip, her gulps mixed with sobs as she was pulled away from the rushing, crushing rapids. She was vaguely aware of solid land under her feet, and she turned around to see her rescuer.

"Hodie..." She whimpered. "I'm sorry...the tree exploded..."

In a better mood, Royse would have said Hrodohaidis would have belonged in the water, as she more looked like a fish. But now she was too scared, and glad...

But that wasn't enough for even her child brain to pick it up, in its depths. Hodie's silence. That look in her eyes.

Royse would have spoken of it, but she never got the chance, as Hrodohaidis shoved her back under the water.

It would be many, many years before the Star Festival came to Ardea. The knowledge of the many ways a mind could be hurt, curdled, made bad, was countless generations away. Eda had always had a small feeling, deep below, that something was not quite right with her daughter, but no one in a thousand leagues had the understanding of what drove Hrodohaidis and how the severe illness had broken something inside her. Perhaps if Royse had just taken the bridge, nothing would have ever happened. Maybe not. But the chance had come, and no sooner had Hrodohaidis had the realization then she'd acted.

Poor impulse control. Another sign Ardea was not ready to understand. And it didn't help Royse as she struggled under the water, the water flowing back in, it hurt, what was she doing, I'm sorry I made you mad, I won't do it again...I just wanted...fairies...

The darkness was cool and quiet, in a way the water wasn't. A darkness mirrored in Hrodohaidis' mind, and heart.

Mother belongs to me.

When she let go, the water picked up Royse again, slowly carrying her away. Hrodohaidis watched, water dabbling on her face, at the cold eyes watching her drowned stepsister being taken away, out of her life, no longer a bother.

Then she turned, fell into the water, dragged herself through the mud, and screamed.

By the time anyone else joined her, Royse's body had long vanished away from the home she'd been cast out of.