Play of the Puppeteer [open]

[Linden]

How long had it been? He heard the thought echo through his mind and his eyes opened only slightly to take in the image of the eclipse that blotted the sun overhead. The eclipse was a sure sign that this was real and that he had returned. Once more the thought crossed his mind: how long had he been asleep? He tried to stand but his legs were not yet strong enough, that was a bad sign, he thought, as he dug his fingers into the ground and slowly let his breathing regulate. He found his strength always returned if he took a moment to breathe and got his blood flowing. Yet for some reason his strength wasn’t returning to him as easily as it usually did. For a third time he wondered how long it had been.

His eyes were finally open and he looked around, blinking as he adjusted to the strange light the eclipse cast on the land. Alas it was the only natural illumination he knew not and it was the only light he would ever see. Yet one thing he didn’t see was the familiar face of his brethren, the sidhe who had always greeted him with a cheerful “Good morning, Linden,” every time he was called back from the grave. He coughed and brushed the dirt from his hair. Upon stirring a foul scent found his nose and he quickly realized the smell was coming from him, his clothing was dry rotting and ridden with mold. He stripped the long trench coat from his person and then the cotton shirt that clung to his sidhe flesh, leaving his pants on for modesty’s sake but then moving to discard his boots that also reeked. This had never happened before, in between rest he would switch his clothing so that it wouldn’t rot and decay…When was the last time he had changed his wardrobe? It must have been a long time…He answered the question but only half way.

He stood up, his height impressive and his body just as muscular as it had been the last time he walked in this plane of existence. He looked around wildly for his puppeteer, the faerie who had resurrected him but no such creature found his eyes. The last time he had existed in Alanor his wife had forsaken him, proclaiming that she could no longer live her life according to the cycles of the moon and the sun. It had been the last time had he been resurrected because he had requested he be left in peace. His life was nothing without his love…Even the Goblin Blades he held meant nothing to him.

That’s when it dawned on him, his home and his Goblin Blades, what had become of them?

He jogged up the hill and under the old Cherry Tree he had asked for the magical land to plant. He stood still as he stared at the side of another hill that had been hollowed out for his home. To his bewilderment the entrance to his home was no longer there and he felt his stomach churn uneasily. He stepped back, whirling around with his hazel eyes scanning the Seelie Court that had once been his home. The land had changed. It was not his world now. Yet he was there, alive and awake, so who had called to him?

He was fearful but fear in this land would get you killed, so he turned and made his way into the area he had once known as the main place the faerie socialized. It was the place he had been crowned the Fae of Chosen Retribution by the Fates and it was the same place where his body had been laid for all to see after news of his passing had spread. My passing… he thought How undignified.

[Haley]

Haley was perched in a nearby tree when she saw Linden. It was pretty dark, so for a few moments she simply squinted at him in an attempt to make out who he was. It didn’t take long for her to realize that she didn’t know him – shocker, right? Tilting her head, Haley issued a silent command with her hand towards Akuji who, until a few moments ago, had been semi-napping below her, but was now wide awake and bristling silently. His keen nose had picked up on Linden’s stench long before he passed by their hiding spot and continued onwards.

The little Nimbus gnawed on her bottom lip as she eased a small throwing blade from the cloth holster wrapped around her right thigh. A sliver of her tongue appeared out the corner of her mouth as she narrowed her eyes in concentration and zoomed in on her target. Her right hand raised, aimed, and shot forward to release the object with unwavering precision. The silver, hiltless blade was nearly impossible to see in what little light the eclipse allowed to be cast upon Alanor, and unperceivable fast, but Haley’s keen eyes tracked it as it traveled towards its target. She had intentionally aimed a bit high in order to account for gravity and based on the items current trajectory she estimated it that if Linden didn’t manage to dodge it, the item would imbed itself directly at the base of his skull.

Her throw was immediately followed by a resounding yell that ripped from her throat and pierced the silent night air, ”DUCK!” The monotonous tone of her voice was akin to someone yelling ‘FOUR’ on a golf course – there was no real urgency in it. Still, there was laughter in her eyes.

[Linden]

Linden heard the whistling over the blade in the wind before he heard the words of the nimbus. Though the words did one thing: it saved him the trouble (and probably a nasty gash) of having to search for the source of the whistling. He had one too many throwing knives chucked at him in his lifetime to not notice the sound but his long slumber had apparently been long enough for him to fail in recognizing the sound. As he dropped to the ground he heard the rustling of the knife as it passed through the leaves of a bush and disappeared from sight. His neck snapped in the direction the voice came and he slowly stood, he wasn’t hesitant to approach the creature as he knew she wasn’t a threat. If she had meant to attack him she wouldn’t have yelled to warn him.

”Do you often fling those things around so carelessly?” He said a semi-annoyed tone.

He surveyed her and her mantel. She was much smaller than him but her mantel had was very similar to the creature he had called a companion when he had been a member of the Seelie Court. He thought fondly of the dog that had followed him around and for a brief second felt something similar to sadness pass over him. But never the type to dwell on weaker emotions he turned his attention back to the woman before him. She was a nimbus just as his wife had been when he met her. But unlike his beloved Haley did not possess the extraordinary beauty that placed her above other nimbus. His wife had come to power later in life; it was no wonder though, as she had always seemed to have been half way there.

”I am Linden. Fae of Chosen Retribution.” He offered her an introduction, wondering if his name still carried any weight.

[Eithne]

There was a sound of metal crashing, at the mention of his name.

It wasn't the metal of blade striking blade, however. It was the cacophony of a tray full of soiled dishes unceremoniously clattering to the ground in a disorderly heap, traces of contents sprinkling the new grass and Eithne's bare feet, which she did not notice in the least. She was very busy gaping at the hulking mass of man standing some twenty paces away as he chastised a tree for throwing something at him. It was odd behavior, but the Pixie couldn't really blame him; from what she'd heard he'd been dead for quite a while. Which was the real reason she was frozen there, mouth hanging open, eyes like shocked saucers on her face.

“Y....You...You're...” she began, horror beginning to creep over her features. "But aren't you...dead?"

[/color] she finished at last, shivering like a leaf in the wind. She was a simple creature, yes, and rather naive for a fae, but she wasn't so completely stupid or unversed in Alanor's history to have lived her whole life without hearing of this man. The Fae of Chosen Retribution was very famous! What was he famous for, again? Eithne thought, her mouth slowly drawing closed. Oh, that's right. Killing people.

She blanched.

“Oh! I'm terribly sorry, Lord! How unspeakably rude! You must be...well, I'd imagine if I had been dead for as long as you have, I would be simply parched.”[/color] She hastily set down a pack she'd been carrying, and rummaged through it for a waterskin and a clean cup -- or at least, a passable one. These she procured rapidly, and as she poured the former into the latter, she scampered up to the towering Sidhe without spilling a drop. A nimbus had appeared, somehow in the interim (perhaps Linden hadn't been chiding the shrubbery, after all) and Eithne nodded to her bashfully as she walked, feeling decidedly self-conscious. Tiny, trembling hands held the cup aloft to him. “Famished, as well, but I'm afraid I haven't anything to eat with me...If you'll just give me a moment though, I am sure I could run to the kitchens and fetch you someth---MY LORD,”[/color] she exclaimed, wrinkling her nose. She slowly shook her head, sympathy awash across her pretty, plaintive face. “May I fetch you some...pants, my Lord?”[/color] She nodded, a small smile appearing briefly on her face as she clearly hoped he would approve of her helpfulness. Linden, Fae of Chosen Retri...something! He was very famous!

And dead. But she could forgive him that.[/color][/blockquote]

[Haley]

”Do you always walk around so carelessly? By the way, you stink.” Haley retorted, a broad smile on her face. She dropped down from her perch and casually brushed some residual bark from her clothing before she looked up to him. Man this guy was huge. ”I was playing ninja and your head got in the way.” She explained casually, brushing her fingers against Akuji’s head as he came to her side. Indeed, not only had Haley been playing the part, she looked the part. Dressed in a full-body black leotard with black flat-footed leather “socks” as shoes, and a large variety of weapons strapped to her body (namely dozens of throwing knives, senbon, some necessary wire, her spiked metal knuckles, a crossbow strapped to her back…you get the picture), she was a walking, talking, killing machine.

The little Nimbus was reaching up to adjust the tight ponytail her hair was constrained to when the male introduced himself. Haley’s head shifted upwards, tilting slightly, her maw opening to speak when she was – rather rudely – interrupted by the sound of crashing metal. What the fu--- Oh. It was a verbally retarded pixie. Haley rolled her eyes as the little female began to gush uncontrollably. She briefly entertained the thought of silencing the woman with a knife to the throat, or a crossbow bolt to the heart, or even…but a quick nip from Akuji silenced the idea. Haley’s lips downturned in a slight pout as she crossed her arms and leaned back against the tree; she had been having a relatively good night until the Pixie had come along.

After the other was done spewing all the little thoughts in her head, Haley piped up calmly, ”Cool. A Zombie. Nice to meet you and all that jazz. I’m Haley.” Her tone was decidedly flippant. Of course Haley knew who Linden was. She had spent countless hours studying the portraits, names and histories of the ones depicted on the walls in the Hall of Goblin Blades. However, she didn’t particularly feel like letting Linden know she knew. It would be much more fun to play the role of an ignorant little faerie.

[Linden]

Linden raised an eyebrow at her statement. Last time Linden had been at the Seelie Court “walking around carelessly” was impossibility. The forest court was filled with fae who explored without a second thought. Hell, in his day the Shining faerie didn’t even have to worry about the threat of the Darkling Throng. He had served in the War of the Courts and he had seen the Seelie dominate the Unseelie. So perhaps Linden comfort in strolling through the Seelie was misplaced like this nimbus said, but truthfully he questioned how many constituents of this court tossed throwing knives and jabbed carelessly at the air with spears. Thus he did not justify her idiocy with a response and turned to find someone, anyone who could be of more use to him.

That was when the garlanger showed up. She reminded him of the typical garlanger pixies he had encountered during his day. The pixies of the Seelie Court had always feared him, it was a phenomenon Linden had never discovered the source of but a part of him assumed that it was due in part to the smallest strain of Goblin that flowed through his veins. He was a large creature and because of his early aggression when arriving at the Seelie had been quickly associated with his distant Goblin ancestors. At first he hadn’t minded the fear others looked upon him with but it had quickly gotten old when he found himself short of company when not amongst the high court.

Inside, he was delighted that the pixie showed no fear when approaching him. He took the cup from her and drank the water, lapping it up quickly before he extended the cup to her, expecting more. Linden had become used to such service in his time as Siobhan. However, she seemed overwhelmed and upon realizing this lowered the cup and raised his empty hand, ”Pants…Would be nice. But for now, tell me your name.”

He heard the dimwitted knife thrower speak and shot her a glance that was accompanied with, ”Why don’t you go play with your knives, Haley?” He didn’t appreciate her ignorance. The zombie comment making him question whether the faerie in this new Seelie knew anything of old rituals. Linden had seen zombies; he was not one of them.

[Eithne]

The little smile grew as Linden drank, broadening into a crescent-moon of sparkling white teeth that caused Eithne’s entire face to radiate joy. She made a move to accept the empty cup he briefly extended to her, and looked almost disappointed when he lowered it, but it was a passing regret. “I am called Eithne, Lord,” she answered with a curtsie, her blue-glass wings fluttering gently on her back. “Conri of the Seelie, if you can believe it! I can’t. Queen Annette is just so lovely and kind! To faerie at least, but I don’t think the shades deserved very much kindness.”

[/color] Her rapt look grew transparent as she rambled, obviously revisiting some recent memory, then made a sudden return to cogency. His smell was positively appalling, but other than that he seemed very nice for a famous undead warrior…that is, until he spoke again to the Nimbus. Eithne’s smile emptied of its brightness, the shape lingering there but without the content to make it really glow, and she glanced rapidly between the two of them. Haley’s sarcasm, as usual, completely escaped the pixie – she could identify ill-humor in another faerie about as well as she could swing a battle-axe – and instead of joining in on the attack, she wanted only to repair the situation as quickly as possible.

“Oh, but you couldn’t possibly be a Zombie, Prince! I am sure Lady Ha…Haley is only joking!”[/color] she attempted, giving the Nimbus a pleading look. The other girl was odd, to be sure, but she was Seelie and therefore guaranteed to be sweet and nice! Surely she didn’t mean to offend! Eithne bit her lower lip anxiously, and reached out toward the empty cup. “Please let me refill that for you, Lord. Are you here long? Shall I announce you to the Queen? Or p-perhaps Lady Haley would like to?”[/color] She trembled lightly from the strain of the situation, obviously unequipped for such a tense exchange. “I am so sorry to ask so many questions, Lord…”[/color] her voice softened to a whisper. “I have not been a Conri very long…”[/color]
[/color][/blockquote]

[Haley]

Haley was getting really fucking tired of all the humorless bastards that occupied Alanor. Aside from Marat – why the fuck am I thinking about him ri---oh screw it! – there was literally no one worth talking to. Either Haley had to tip-toe around them with her words in order to avoid offending them (heaven forbid!) or she received blank stares as a result of what she considered to be some sort of mental retardation running rampant through Alanor. It was entirely too frustrating. For once she wanted someone to joke back with her or at least attempt to understand her humor. She had been calling Linden a zombie in jest and he responded in a fashion she should have expected. Any possible amount of respect she could have harbored for him flew right out the window the moment her told her to go play with her knives.

She wanted to, really. In fact, he died at least a dozen times by her “knives” in her head before the pixie was even done speaking. As she glowered at Linden’s back, her good mood substantially diminished, Haley couldn’t help but notice that Eithne had actually attempted to defend her. Her expression perked up just a tad as she looked upon the Conri with renewed interest. Perhaps this woman wasn’t as useless as Haley had immediately assumed. Clumsy, in words and in body, but not as stupid as originally thought. Still, it didn’t matter much. Haley was done with this little bout of interaction. Had Linden been anyone other than what he was, Haley would have attacked the bastard right then and there. However, she had a feeling Queen Annette would not approve, and thus refrained. Haley intended to stay on the Queen’s good side (or, at least, her not-bad-side) for the time being.

”You know what? I think I will.” Haley’s tone was thoughtful, as if she considered his suggestion worthwhile. In reality, Haley didn’t intend to let the male know that the fury that had ignited in her breast was dangerously close to breaking loose. Any further time spent in Linden’s presence would undoubtedly end in disaster, thus in order to maintain the little amount of peace she had managed to procure during the past few days, Haley decided it was best for her to move on. She shot a look towards Eithne, a small, sincere smile flickering onto her lips, ”Besides, Eithne here would be a much better tour guide than I could ever be.” With that said, she shifted from her leaning stance and turned towards the woods, ”Come, Akuji.”

The African Wild Dog, whom had been silently seething beside his mistress, shot Linden one more death glare –which the man most likely would miss- before he turned to slink after Haley. Together they quickly vanished into the woods, no doubt to unleash their pent up anger on some poor, unsuspecting tree or animal (faerie not excluded).

[Linden]

Linden couldn’t have cared less as the smile escaped Eithne’s face and Haley made her exit. Had he been rude to the nimbus? Who cared, for Linden certainly did not. Linden was a legend, a Goblin Blade who had saved Alanor from a plague that was unlike any the population had ever seen before. He had privilege where others did. So when speaking to a nimbus who didn’t even offer him the courtesy of stating her rank what he said would be spoken at his discretion and his discretion alone, especially when the only person in earshot was a garlanger.

Out of the corner of is eye he watched Haley leave. A part of the behemoth itched for a fight, and because of that he almost wished Haley had stuck around, but the more refined part of him (the Siobhan in him) was relieved he would not longer have to deal with the ill-mannered woman. Linden briefly wondered what ruler allowed their constituents to speak to cavalierly, especially to someone of such high status. Narichter, Linden’s king, had been known to be a lax ruler but even he did not tolerate informality in the helpings the Haley-woman dished it out in.

He looked back at Eithne, still clearly annoyed and more preoccupied with his own thoughts than anything she had to say. Until now he hadn’t responded to anything she had said and even now he merely grunted, ”A conri, eh?” He pulled the cup closer to his chest and lifted a hand in protest, ”No. No refills. That isn’t your job.” Linden’s brown eyes cast a narrowed gaze over the landscape; it looked so much more lush than he last remembered.

He spoke to himself but loud enough that the pixie could hear, ”What the hell am I doing here?” His neck snapped towards Eithne, ”Do you know a woman who goes by Trinity?” Referring to his wife, the only person he could think of who would want him back in Alanor. Yet the last time he and Trinity spoke it had been her begging for him to let her move on…

[Eithne]

Eithne was not built for this kind of tension. Her heart beat fast as a hummingbird’s as she tried not to gape at each of these faerie’s faces, caught completely off-guard by their apparent distaste for one another. The pixie would have laughed at the zombie joke, honestly, if it hadn’t so clearly offended the Sidhe – Eithne laughed at most anything, after all, and had made a number of socially inappropriate quips in her time, though in innocence – but as it stood she could only stare after Haley’s retreating form, grateful that the girl had the tact to exit a potentially explosive situation. Haley’s little compliment had not fallen on deaf ears, either; the conri responded with a look of deep gratitude and sympathy, just before she turned to leave.

That left the two of them.

“I don’t mind…” she started to protest when he refused her offer, but quickly decided against arguing with him. The Fae of chosen retribution had not earned his Goblin Blade by quibbling with servants. Her wide black eyes studied him as he thought to himself, casting a scrutinizing glare over their surroundings. Oh, but it had been a very long time since Linden died, Eithne thought with pity. This compassion quickly rose to her cheeks in a flush, sadness glossing her already luminous gaze, softness taking over her features that had already been gentle and warm. She was the picture of sympathy. "Trin…ity?"

[/color] she repeated slowly, searching her memory. A fresh wave of sorrow surged in her chest, on his behalf. "Oh, is that my Lord’s Lady? I am so very sorry, sir, but I have lived here my whole life and have never heard that name…"[/color]

The pixie could have burst into tears, right there. She had never really considered what it would mean to come back from the dead, hundreds of years after your passing – your loved ones gone, the home you’d known transformed into something unrecognizable, the stink of your favorite clothes clinging to you like a plague…Her lip quivered, but she squashed the desire to weep by taking it between her teeth and fluttering her wings sharply. It would not do, to cry before this man. He did not want a pixie’s pity, she was sure. She forced a smile, her sweet voice growing firm.

“But I am very glad you are here, my Lord, and I am sure the Queen will be, as well! It is such a troubling time for the Seelie, what with the attack on Imbolc and the Host flapping all over the skies at night. Perhaps it is the Fate who sent you to us, knowing our need for a light in this darkness…”[/color] She curtsied to him again, as if renewing her deference, and turned toward the palace. “First, though, we should find you some clothes and something to eat.”[/color] Her dancer’s steps brought her to the fallen tray, which she quickly reassembled and lifted – it appeared far too heavy for a girl her size, but Eithne was much stronger than she seemed, or knew. “I picked this up out of habit, and should return it to the kitchen as we pass,”[/color] she explained, flashing him a timid smile. It was embarrassing how often she fell back into a servant’s manner, but surely Linden would understand.
[/color][/blockquote]

[Alysia]

Alysia really didn't know why she was so far away from the deeper parts of the forests, hardly ever venturing into less thick areas. Not to mention sparsely covered hills. It hadn't been long ago when she caught a foul smell upon the wind, curiosity churning in her gut. Her nose lead her here.

Looking from her crouched position in a nearby tree, her mantel beside her watching both her and the two fae nearby. One looked like he dug himself from some sewer and the other looked to be part pixie. She caught snatches of the conversation here and there, nothing substantial. Deciding she had nothing better to do, Alysia dropped down from the tree with a soft plop as she hit the ground gracefully. The gold from her eyes glinted in the coppery light as she approached the two.

As her form walked into the light, her clothing came more apparent. Simply wearing dark skin-tight jeans, white blouse, dark brown knee length boots, and a light brown cloak. Her dark gold hair was braided and whipped in the wind behind her. Her large throwing blades strapped to her thighs, the green and gold threading on the handles glinting in the light.

Smiling warmly at the two fae, she nodded her head in respect."I'm sorry for intruding, but something caused my curiosity to carry me here. I'm Alysia...a newly made conri of the seelie court." Alysia's face looked almost pained at her introduction. She was not use to having conri as her new title. Hell she hadn't even had a title in so long it was almost foreign.

[Linden]

Trinity was gone. That wasn’t a shock to the sidhe. The last time they had spoken she had told him she couldn’t live her life according to the eclipse and then without even a final goodbye ran off into the night. A friend had told him of her disloyalty to him after that, that she had become involved with a Darkling faerie and had been voicing her inner-conflict somewhat publically. It had been a punch to the gut when he had heard such things, but for some reason he had pushed it to the back of his mind, not rehashing the scenario until the very moment he learned of her disappearance from Alanor. Whether she had gone off with a new lover or faded into nothingness was not his main concern, and though memories of her betrayal cut him like a knife he questioned who had summoned him from the grave.

Linden was clearly confused. Even as Eithne spoke he continued to frown, shaking his head as he uietly contemplated what could have called him from beyond. Chosen Retribution could not decide if he was angry, bitter or frightened, but all three provoked a similar reaction from the man. He wasn’t an emotional creature and preferred to deal with problems of pathos by stabbing something. Obviously he did not comprehend anything Eithne said and only looked up when a new face appeared. He studied the sidhe briefly before retorting, ”You’re not interrupting anything.

[/b] He began to walk without any destination, taking two steps in one direction then turning around before taking a step in the completely opposite way. His confusion was evident, ”I just need to find my weapons. Take me to the Hall of the Goblin Blades, the Altar, please.” His words were almost pleading and the closest thing to hysterics any one would ever see in him. [/color]
[/blockquote]

[Eithne]

Linden’s confusion frightened the pixie – not because she could not understand or sympathize, but because she felt ill-equipped to care for him. If he wouldn’t accept rest and food, how could she ensure he wouldn’t fade right back into death? But her years in servitude had taught her one thing; it never bode well to argue with a Sidhe, particularly one of rank. She swiveled on her heel, balancing the tray on her fingertips, and frowned at him sadly. She would have been at an utter loss if it were not for the sudden arrival of Alysia. “Princess,” she greeted with a curtsie, casting an apologetic look in her direction. “I am Eithne, Conri of the Seelie, and this is Linden, Fae of Chosen Retribution. He was very recently summoned from the grave,”

[/color] she explained, her voice as full of compassion as her face, “and is in need of his weapons.”[/color] Alysia had probably heard that part, but Eithne felt that it deserved repeating. She took a few steps toward the woman, deference in her pace and carriage. When she spoke again, her voice was very soft, as if she were trying her best not to upset the Goblin Blade any further. “I would take him, m’Lady, but to be honest I have never left the court, save for Festival time…I do not know the way. Do you?”[/color] Her wide black eyes were full of hope and expectation, childish in the depth of their trust. Surely this lovely Conri would help her! A ghost of a smile, plaintive and sweet, curled the corner of her mouth.
[/color][/blockquote]

[Alysia]

Alysia blinked at the tenseness she felt coming from Lindin. She was betting it was not an easy thing for the goblin blade, to awaken so many years from the time of your death. The only clue she had of this ordeal was what she recalled from the snippets of conversation she had overheard. She decided to not pry too much. She really didn't want a goblin blade going berserk on her.

Looking at the part pixie, she smiled brightly and it was a friendly one. How could one not be friendly to the smaller fae (even though Eithne was much bigger than most pixie or part pixies would be)? Alysia had actually always adored them, a respect in her for their kind. "Thank you Eithne...and yes I believe I can guide him there. I may not have been there myself, but I know where the altar is." Quickly taking off her overly large light brown cloak, she offered it to Lindin."It may not be much, but it can help keep you covered if you so wish."

Alysia may have been a scary forest guardian once, but she was actually a very nice woman now...well mostly. It was like becoming a tamed wolf. The wolf may lick the hand that feeds now, but the wolf never forgets that she has fangs and can kill. Basically if you didn't anger her, she was rather nice. A little socially awkward, but she tries.

Looking over at the part pixie and she quickly noted that she had already left. Pity, she would have liked to converse with her more. Shaking her head, she looked to Lindin and nodded towards the east. "I'll take you to the Altar." Alysia smiled at him and adjusted the now visible dagger sheaves strapped to her lower back.

[Linden]

He held his hand up and shook his head, refusing the coat, ”Just take me.”

As she obliged him Linden could not help but take in the sights that filled the court. Though bathed in that familiar light of the eclipse Linden could notice the vast differences between the courts he once knew and the court he now stood in. He spoke without looking at Alysia, still staring at the buildings made from clusters of trees and other natural edifices. ”During my time the Seelie ruled over the Unseelie Court. I fought in the war between the two.” Though the memory of war was not often a fond one, for Linden it was a time where he had achieved so much growth as a warrior that it was impossible not to reflect positively on.

The war between the courts had been brutal and it had ended in his court emerging victorious, thus Linden never felt anything but happiness over the fact that the war had taken place. He had gone into the battle as the Siobhan of the Seelie, any thought that he would one day ascend to a position amongst the Goblin Blades would have been laughable but the war had taken him from a sidhe who was capable of advancing in courtly politics to a being that would later be heralded as a legend.

Thinking of all this Linden could not help but feel some pride swell in him, a contrasting feeling to what he had been feeling before: sorrow for his lost love.

He looked at Alysia, a sidhe woman, one who likely would have never touched him before he came into power and achieved a Goblin Blade. ”What is the state of Alanor?” He asked curiously as he now was rationally thinking.