**ASH**
Once we passed through the River Gate and into Faery, our search for the missing Myrh girl began. Unfortunately, the trail of frostbitten ground could only take us so far. About a mile from the portal, at the head of the Forgotten Wood, we learned why.
“Damn it.” My eyes caught upon the last of the frosted footprints settled beneath one of the barren purple oaks. Reaching toward a low branch, I finger the ice bitten talon marks and curse. “Fucking snowbird!”
Klyesque saunters up to me, and with a shake of her braids, loses her glamor. In place of the scruffy old palace guard, now stands a luminescent teal seductress of a selkie. Her gloriously long cerulean hair is braided in a crown about her head and her willowy limbs are dressed in silver skin armor. She is ready for battle as always, her Daybreaker sword drawn at the ready.
I have done the same, and I must admit, it feels glorious to shed the paint. Instead of the unmarked skin I wear in the Mortal Realm, the realm of the mediocre human species, I am now covered in whimsical black ink. Featuring a trail of recorded history from my waistline to the base of my skull. Included are stories of my own making and of my ancestors before me. My face is clean, brandishing no scripture nor change save my eyes. The silver irises now swirl with a whisper of smoke. And when I am angry, a fluorescence of red heat.
I am angry now.
Throwing a worrisome glance upward, Klyesque groans. “We won’t catch them now. But at least we know for certain where the girl was taken and by whom.”
I peer above the wasteland of leafless trees and note the collective storm clouds that brew beneath the moon filled sky. The royal purple of the Great Fae River, reflected in its depths. The three moons on this side cast a film of yellow light upon the ever-darkened landscape.
Grimacing, I close my eyes and picture Daphne as I left her. Asleep and oblivious. I imagine her face when she learns of her family’s demise. The devastation she will feel in learning all that she sacrificed was for naught.
Can I still go through with my original plans of vengeance now that I have had her? She is the ideal candidate, but...I don’t want it to be her.
Klyesque was right.
The girl has something magical. She has bewitched me. Even now I cannot shake her from my thoughts. Nor...my skin. The memory of her soft velvet flesh is like having her branded into my mind. I can still *feel* her on my...everything.
And then, there is the other matter as well.
The book.
I must find out who left it for her and why they did.
If I choose to sacrifice her as I intended, then I will have to ensure she is impregnated by the king. Or...by the prince. And, I will have to do so soon. The window is closing.
If I decide not to and I decide to spare her - what reason do I give my people?
How will I refuse the Winter Queen what was promised to her eighteen years ago, without a tribute as payment? There must be another way. I refuse to bind myself to that millennia old hag. I am the same age as her spoiled bastard son and if I marry her...if we become bonded...my visits to the Mortal Realm will significantly decline. I might never see Daphne again.
That possibility in itself causes a sharp stabbing pain to enter my chest and climb up my throat.
If I kill her, *no one* will see her again. Not me, not anyone.
But...I’ll be free.
Yet...I won’t want to be. I'll want to be...
I take a dry swallow of displeasure at the end of that sentence,
“Ash!” Klyesque hisses.
“Sorry! What?”
“Your horses.” She gestures, glaring at me skeptically. “They’ve arrived.
After riding into the Forgotten Wood upon Delago, my Shadow Steed, with Klyesque astride his twin, Trielle the Red, we finally reach the back of my home located in the center of the forest, deep beneath the Trail of Fallen Rock.
It is not a cavern per se. Well, not completely. This particular tunnel is just a back entrance into Castle Fury, as my palace is built into the Cliffs behind the Forgotten Wood. Kingdom Fury Rekyr itself spans the entirety of Rekyr Mountain. All of it. The top, the bottom, the inside and out. A city of tunnels and underground systems, as well as homes built into the caverns of syenite rock. Volcanic in structure, the cliffs are a circular peephole into the open sky above. Granting my people a cycle of five moons during the long night and a few hours of radiant sun by day. The Great Fae River branches off here as well, blessing our interior walls with three grand waterfalls, countless natural fountains, and pools of fresh water.
In the center of the city, just below the hollow opening of the cliffs, is our crown jewel and circular hearth. Constant heat glows from this sculpture, lit with embers that feed from beneath the mountain.
There is not a place in all of Faery that is not alive with nature. Unlike humans, we do not destroy our land. Rather, we coexist alongside it. We nurture it and in turn, it does the same for us. From the Northern Ice Palaces of the Winter Fae to the Crystal Caves of the Southern Temples - the Sky Cities of the Eastern Realms to the Underground Lands of Cinder - the vast Lunar Ocean and everything in between - we are all connected to our homes.
The moment my feet touch down on the glowing marble and syenite stones that pave the castle floors, I am rejuvenated. The energy spent from maintaining myself in the Mortal Realm is being replenished with my every step I take toward my throne room.
Once inside, I am greeted by Gehna, my ‘sometimes’ bedmate. Upon seeing her my eyes narrow, she has no business here when I am not present.
“Gehna,” I say, my eyes falling over her bountiful curves with little interest. “What in forever fuck are you doing in my private space?”
The Chesire smile that she welcomes me with falters as she scowls. “I-I’ve missed you. Why else would I be here?”
“How did you know I was coming?”
“Ambassador Furel told me.” She sighs heavily, her long black gossamer dress, sparkling with crystals in the light.
With a roll of my eyes, I stomp toward my throne. A seat built from veined black yoopelite stone. A jewel intricately carved from its matching scaffold, to create the appearance of a single flame within its glow. Throwing myself onto the silvered velveteen pillows which serve as its comfort, I gesture to Klyseque.
She leans toward me, and I whisper, “I need to speak with Ambassador Furel. Fetch him while I rid myself of this bothersome slut.”
Klyesque nods, then with a sharp look at Gehna she laughs. “I wouldn’t waste my time pining for him if I were you.”
“Well, you’re not me, are you? You’re a damn selkie that needs to mind her fucking business.” Gehna snaps.
"You're right," Klyesque snickers. "I *should* mind my own business. But-" she shrugs "-I happen to like pissing you off. So allow me to be the one to tell you-" Klyesque smiles, flashing a full set of razor sharp teeth "-our prince has found himself a girl and she'll be doing all his welcoming from now on!""