not all who wander

[Alecto]

The Darkness Drops Again, and now I know that twenty centuries of stony sleep were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle. And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, slouches toward Bethlehem to be born?

Alanor was the heart of the world, and Skylla, her gravity. The darkling fae, Alecto, a great devotee of law, did not attempt an escape from the heart-beat's drum, which marched her time and again back into these thickets and caves. After all, it was to this universe she belonged, and without the call of Alanor she would drift off into oblivion, into obscurity, into nothing.

Alecto welcomed that whispered cadence, now. Her steps found themselves weaving through snow-dusted paths, which in turn skirted mountains too sleek and jagged to belong to any place but Alanor. She knew that the Unseelie court was not far, nestled beneath these crests like an embryo, but it did not feel like the right moment to reappear there, yet. The peaks demanded tribute, she felt -- the wind ordered an indirect course.

"I am your servant," she murmured to the gale, and felt the words ripped from her mouth.

[Skylla]

Her words were drowned out by a forceful gust, one that sent her hair billowing up and around her face. Though the wind urged her down the path and a wolf's howl echoed in the distance, a low rumble also could be heard miles away. Braving the mountains was always a risky ordeal, but in late winter, when the snow was melting and avalanches were prone to occuring, it was downright foolish. The path Alecto walked could very easily find itself buried beneath six feet of snow, should something disturb the mountains.

The wind blew once more, but this time it did not smell of cold, crisp nature, but instead of smoke.

[Alecto]

What is risk, what is foolhardiness, to one who knows no threat of death or lasting injury? Perhaps for a human this impulse to follow the breath of the world would be foolish, but to Alecto, who had known the horrors of the floodplain, the scorch of Arabian sandstorms, the misery of plague -- who had lived a thousand years and more, and would live that long again -- what was a few weeks trapped beneath ice and snow, if it should come to that? A thought, a breath. A moment. The former Fury could consider a chess move, as long.

As the threat of avalanche did not deter her, neither did the wind and cold. Barefoot she continued on, heading the wolf's cry with an answering yip of greeting; they were kindred, the beast and she. She breathed the air intently for that whiff of smoke, and listened closely for the growl of the mountain, and tasted the frost already collecting on her lips. Light and swift, she raced down the path a quarter mile before pausing again, to grasp a shard of rock with forefinger and thumb. A curious shape -- the chip of some boulder that had fallen, perhaps, and struck the cliff with every glancing blow.

"Do you threaten me, mountain? I mean only to marvel at you," she whispered, as sincerely as if she spoke to another fae. The scent of smoke grew stronger, even without the aid of magicked senses.

[Skylla]

The smoke would find the fae's nose easily enough, and a clear path would be easily discerned. However, as Alecto follows the scent it becomes apparent that following the path will never yield the desired results. To find the source of the smell she must venture into the woods and the wind beckons her to do so with a forceful gale that all but physically moves her.

Through the dense wood another sound, this one faint but still audible in its echoing. At first it sounds like the wail of some animal, but upon closer listening it is a horn. The wind pushes at Alecto even more forcefully, urging her on.

[Alecto]

Perhaps the cliffs did intend her warning or harm, with their arrow-head stones and their muted snarls -- Alecto would never know. As the wind shifted and blew in hard from the woods, she discerned the acrid bite of smoke, sharp, as if coming from a very recent fire. It was only a moment, long enough to pique her interest before the air returned to its former course, pressing against her back with renewed urgency. Her reverence of the mountain would have to wait, it seemed. With unhurried steps, she turned downhill, toward the forest.

It was an easier road, but long. Alecto took the path in fits and starts, running distances at the wind's behest and walking some stretches, to scrutinize the view. These woods were unfamiliar to her, she realized as they grew in the distance. The outermost trees were gnarled and twisted by the wind, which even now continued to force her onward. As she approached, these forest titans reached up to the sky, their splayed fingers silhouetted against the lengthening rays of afternoon sun. A sound blurted somewhere in the distance, echoing faintly until it reached Alecto's ears, and the woman stopped in her tracks to consider it, every muscle coiling in reflex. A horn, it seemed. Her eyes narrowed. Was it a welcome, or a challenge?

Falling to a cautious crouch, she started in the direction of the instrument's call at a cautious trot, her eyes casting to-and-fro to alert her to danger. Curiosity could kill a cat, she knew. It would not kill her, but she wasn't looking for trouble.

[Skylla]

As Alecto progressed forward the horn sounded once more, this time the call of the instrument was much clearer, loud as the reasonating sound was high pitched, a sure sign of a hunting instrument. The horn continued to blow, as if calling to someone or something.

The wind continued to whip amongst the trees, but within the cover of the forest the elements were much less punishing. Alecto walked for what seemed like a long time, the woods never giving way to a clearing but the horn still calling to her. Suddenly the horn stopped, and a deafening silence settled in over the forest, not even the wind finding her ears. Then without warning, a high pitched shriek ripped through the air and something shot through the branches over head, moving too quickly to be seen. Not a moment passed before a second object passed through the trees at the same high speeds, both moving in the direction Alecto was headed.

[Alecto]

Drawn ever-onward by the sounding horn and the question of its purpose, Alecto travelled deeper into the forest. The burning curiosity she was experiencing was not typical to her -- she could recall only a few times before when she had felt so compelled by inquisitive passion that she had shirked other duties to sate it. It was a strange sensation, akin to the heightened awareness experienced in a war zone, or when pursuing one's object of lust. Not that she had partaken much of the latter...she was Sidhe, and a darkling Fae, and these had a habit of taking what they wanted.

When the horn-call stopped, and the silence followed, the simple change in atmosphere was deafening, in itself -- Alecto's ears rang, her heart-beat pounded in her head like a jackhammer. She crouched low, muscles clenched for attack, head whipping to one side in an attempt to follow the unfollowable shape hurtling through the branches; the presumed maker of that miserable cry. One noisemaker, then another, both astonishingly fast, both surely connected (of this she felt certain) to the hunting-horn's blast. The Fury took off after them at a predator's sprint, her body hugging the ground, limbs moving swift and silent over the forest loam.

Was she predator now, or prey?

[Skylla]

The darkling blood within her felt a strange familiarity with the sound of the horn, and even after its sound had faded the memory of the sound still tugged at her. Her faerie form carried her faster than any human body would’ve allowed, but still she fell far behind the blazingly fast objects that ripped through the trees likes blurs. At the speed she was going, it didn’t take her long at all to reach the clearing where the two objects had obviously beaten her to. As she approached, however, there was a third figure and they all stood gathered around a blue flamed fire.

At first glance, all three of the beings appeared to be garlangers, but closer inspection yielded different results. There was a man in the middle; he was tall and darkly handsome. From his back sprouted a pair of leathery bat wings. His skin was a pale gold, and his body was rippled with muscle. Where his abs should have been there was a coil of tightly packed purple tentacles, all coiled to give the illusion of abdominal muscles, but a knowing eye would know what was truly there. Regardless of the man’s blood he was extremely handsome, the paradigm of a sidhe male had it not been for the wings and the tentacles.

The women, however, were not faerie. They both stood, flanking him as if they were his guards, their massive bat-like wings still unfolded for flight. Their skin was dark and leathery, and large rat-like tails grew from the base of their spines. Their eyes were completely black, through and through. The only part of them that was remotely faerie was their hairs, which were completely normal shades of brown.

[Alecto]

She had lost sight of the lightning-fast pair, but had not lost their scent. In the same way, she had not lost the memory of the hunting horn's note, though that was a sense that seemed to resonate in her soul, rather than her organs. Had she heard it before, somewhere? Alecto had lived so long, there were many things that she had forgotten by necessity -- her parents and childhood, her first kill, the taste of spring in the Aegean -- but she could remember each of her stays in Alanor quite vividly, beginning with her first steps into this world, and it disturbed her that she could not place how this sound was familiar.

There was a clearing ahead -- the trees thinned slightly, and evening light slanted horizontally through the forest opening, bathing the surrounding woods in radically slanted shadows and gold. Alecto slowed down to a prowl as she reached the edge of it, still in her wolfish crouch, and skirted the edge of the meadow cautiously. One, two, three -- though the third was not of the kind she had glimpsed hurtling through the canopy. As she circumnavigated them, noting their strange (obviously magicked) fire and their startling physical resemblance to Nightflyers (but not those Garlanger, she was sure), she strained every sense to pick up any clues about this unusual trio. The man -- the hunter, she presumed -- seemed like Fae, to be sure. His appearance suggested strong Sidhe influence, as if the dilution of his blood had been with just the right beastly dash to malform him, while preserving his beauty. The Fury's first thought, upon seeing the two beside him, was hound, though perhaps these two functioned more as guardians than mere tools of the hunt. Were these the creatures that had tainted faerie blood into Nightflyers, in the beginning?

[Skylla]

The trio stood around the fire, but they did not huddle around it for warmth like one would normally. Instead, the male in the middle knelt down and began to inspect the odd flames that seemed to burn without any fuel. The male inched closer to the fire, holding his hand far too close to bare flames to be unharmed, but miraculously, he was able to pass his hand through the fire without so much as a hair on his hand being singed. His brow furrowed and he looked back to the creatures that flanked him. ”It only recently passed through here. It mustn’t be far.”

The man’s gaze then suddenly shifted sideways as if to examine the entire area more thoroughly, that’s when he spotted the faerie. He turned fully, facing the creature with an unwavering gaze. From his torso dangled a horn attached to a leather thong. His gaze alerted the two women on both sides of him and they immediately whipped their heads around, their monstrous eyes meeting Alecto’s gaze. ”Faerie.” The man uttered and without another sound the two creatures lunged at the wolf, their speed in flight carrying them towards her faster than she could blink.

[Alecto]

Alecto witnessed the exchange between the Not-Garlanger and his companions in rigid silence, feeling the weight of her spying suddenly settle on her. She had never heard of creatures such as these in Alanor -- by her knowledge, no faerie had heard of them. It dawned on her that it was urgent that she convey her findings to the Unseelie court, or at least seek an audience with its regent and determine if there was some wisdom to be gained. But before she could turn back, the trio spotted her, and the faerie was attacked.

Alecto was a creature of reflex, and so four things happened nearly at once, as soon as the swift beasts descended upon her. First, she lowered herself to the ground with one hand bracing her forward. With her free hand, she quickly reached for a fist-sized rock, and threw it hard at one of her pursuers -- with Havoc, she launched another stone in the general direction of the second, though at this speed she knew a direct hit would be unlikely. Mid-motion, she leapt forward and rolled, the direction she hoped the two females would be least likely to expect, and then raced toward the left and the woods. Fighting the desire to shout insults at her unprovoked attacker, she instead directed flight-interrupted words to another ear:

"I entreat you, Skylla, for protection!"

She could only hope the diety was at leisure, and listening.

[Skylla]

The first pursuer batted the rock away with relative ease. The strength of the creature visible in the way she easily swatted at the forth coming stone, as if it were a gnat. The second pursuer, however, was caught off guard by the sidhe's magic and the was caught in the side of the face with rock. The creature hissed and fell to the ground, momentarily stunned by the blow.

The first being continued after Alecto, hot on the sidhe's heels. The creature's wings beat like a bat's and she cackled loudly, as if a witch out of a movie. For a few moments the creature flew feet behind Alecto, allowing the sidhe to expend more energy. But at the sound of Alecto's prayer the being leapt onto the sidhe, both of them tumbling to the ground as the woman tried to subdue her.

The second pursuer arrived on the scene, a large gash bleeding freely from the side of her face and bruising already apparent. She too jumped into the fray, both fighting to hold Alecto down while they waited for their leader.

[Alecto]

It appeared the Faerie Goddess was not, in fact, listening.

Alecto could feel the fiend in hot pursuit behind her, could sense that it held back for no purpose but to wear her down. Therefore she was half grateful when she felt its beastly limbs close around her middle, the weight of it as they both tumbled forward -- the roll made less graceful by the encumbrance of this unwanted partner. Having strayed from her direct course to the Court, Alecto had not yet acquired weapons befitting an Unseelie princess, but she did have a dagger hidden on her thigh, and this she unsheathed as soon as she had ceased her forward momentum, slashing viciously at her attacker in the same motion. The second was upon her momentarily, and the sidhe found her blade quickly knocked away, her arms and legs pinned without gentleness to the grass. Alecto's jaw clenched, a low growl more befitting the wolf than its mistress rumbling in her chest, her pure-blooded glow pulsing with her rage.

"You have disarmed me, stinking wretch, must I be humiliated as well?" she hissed, no longer struggling against her captors. It was apparent that she was completely outmatched, and would be better at this point to save her strength. Through the small windows between fur and hair and wing, she could see the lower body of the man that was not a nightflyer, striding purposefully toward her.

[Skylla]

The attacker reeled back as the blade slashed across her arm; she was hesitant to rejoin the scuffle and only did so once the blade was no longer in the hands of the sidhe. However, both women having been wounded now grabbed at Alecto with more ferocity than an unemotional hunt ordered by their leader should carry. Their strength was not over powering, but combined they were much stronger than she, and she could only writhe within their grasp. ”On her feet.” The voice of the male said with words that carried a ruler’s weight. The two women immediately pulled Alecto to her feet, until neither of them had said a word but one whispered with a hiss, ”Whore.” The insult seemed trivial but the words caused the woman to tighten her grip around Alecto’s arm, she would have bruised had she not been faerie.

For the first time the man was fully visible and though from a distance he appeared as beautiful as any sidhe, at this distance he was breathtakingly beautiful. His hair was cropped closely to his head and his tricolored eyes sparkled with a hue of auburn, gold, and hazel. His flesh was gold dusted, and save for the markings of the nightflyers, he was unmarred. He walked towards Alecto, studying her with a solemn expression. ”Sidhe.” He breathed and it was unclear who he spoke the words to. He drew his sword, examining the bastard sword with a regretful leer. He rotated the blade in his hand and lifted it to her. Without warning he swung the sword violently at her head, striking her with the flat part of the blade.

Alecto’s vision went gray and the world seemed to swim. A light ringing in her ears was all she could hear, coupled with the distant. ”No, she must be without trance.” The man pushed the two females away and stood over Alecto, ”I’m sorry.” Lifting his leg he brought his boot down into her face and all she knew was darkness.

When Alecto awoke; she lay at the entrance of the Unseelie caverns, her clothing wet from having been laid in the snow. It was night time, several hours after she had venture into the mountains. Her body ached at every inch but there was no visible sign of injuries. Dried blood clung to her mouth and nose, but the wounds the man had inflicted had healed. Curiously though, in her hands was a necklace, a chain attached to a small vial that contained what looked to be blood. A note was wrapped around the vial, it read. “For the heir.”

[Alecto]

Alecto felt herself roughly dragged to her feet at the man's instruction, and did her best to stand rigidly upright; the dignified stance of a soldier. The insult, while not falling on deaf ears per se, likely did not garner the desired result -- the corner of her mouth merely turned in a smirk, and she cast a sidelong glance at her bitter captor with a look that clearly said "Know that I will remember you, and the outcome will not be so favorable at our next meeting." Her irises gleamed hot fire, even as her skin seemed to radiate cold in the fading light.

For her revolting attacker, however, she had only a moment's attention to give. The pair's leader now stood before her, and it was prudent, she knew, to scrutinize him as much as possible before he cast her into Trance (for that, surely, was his intention). If he thought he would get away with manhandling an Unseelie Sidhe, he was sorely mistaken. Yet as Alecto studied him, she could not help but find herself moved by his grace and beauty, bewildered by his arcane heritage and unprovoked violence. She wanted to ask him why, but instead met his eyes with her unwavering, unblinking stare -- the same that had driven countless mortals to madness, but which now could convey only her questioning, her lack of fear. When he raised the sword, she did not avert her gaze, but braced herself for what would surely be a painful, though temporary, death.

The blow would have been surprising, if it had not so swiftly numbed her from crown to toe. Alecto's vision swam as she sank to the ground, feeling momentarily outraged that she was to be dispatched in the dirt. That outrage was quickly replaced by foggy confusion, however, as her beautiful assailant stood above her. The last red-gold light of day framed his gilded body like a halo, like a sidhe's glow; he would have resembled Apollo, had it not been for the demonic wings disrupting his silhouette. She coughed.

"I'm sorry," an angel's voice.

Then he blotted out the sun.

Will continue at Unseelie.