by Cilla Raven
Suspected lieutenant for the rebellion
Very tall and muscular
Tanned skin tone, long dark hair, green eyes
Doesn’t speak Tavatikan very well, but understands the language
Charged with: theft, assault of multiple guards, flower drug possession, evading arrest, and crimes against Arorial.
Quinn Frost of Wrogmar
Male with red wings (Artisan/Smith)
Suspected captain for the rebellion
Tall and muscular
Lighter skin tone, long blonde hair, blue eyes, tidy blonde beard
Charged with: murder, theft, assault of a noble, trespassing, evading arrest, and crimes against Arorial.
Priya Ravenskull of Tavatika
Female with dark blue wings (Scribe/Historian)
Suspected lieutenant for the rebellion
Of average height with a muscular build
Darker skin tone, long braided black hair, light brown eyes
Charged with: treason, murder, theft, assault of many, trespassing, evading arrest, and crimes against Arorial.
They are four of the highest-ranking members of the rebellion I’ve ever had the pleasure of hunting, and though I’d never admit it to anyone, I’m every bit as scared of the task in front of me as I am excited to see it through.
As I study their faces, I commit their features and crimes to my mind.
‘Crimes against Arorial’ could be any number of transgressions, but one they all stand accused of is explicitly orchestrating and blocking our trade routes with other nations. Which is just ludicrous, if you ask me. Why would anyone want to stop the trade routes? How does that get them closer to their goal of helping the smaller nations?
The Tava control all the trade between the six nations, ensuring even distribution to all. It’s something we’ve prided ourselves on: our ability to feed Arorial.
The rebels have said they’re standing up to Tavatika for the other, less powerful nations who can’t adequately defend themselves, but by disrupting our trade with them, they’ve only been harming those nations, not helping them.
Disguise fully in place, I hesitantly open the door and peer both ways down the long hallway. As usual, there is no one there to see me, but I expect as much. My part of the castle doesn’t interest anyone most of the time, even when my father is home.
No, I’m much more worried about the distance I will have to traipse across the castle’s grounds where spirits are high, and the festivities have already begun to take shape.
Curious eyes are everywhere, and blabbing tongues know no filter.
As I make my way out the front door of the castle with barely a turned head in my direction, my nerves begin to grow, and my heart rate begins to quicken, but I steady my breathing like I was taught to do and keep my cool, holding my head high as if I have every right to be where I am, doing what I’m doing.
Everything in our society is segmented, categorized, and given a rank - everything and everyone. From the fact that all wingless humans are servants to the dismal idea that a fae’s wing color should determine their profession, much of our society is flawed.
These rankings don’t just stop at what a person was born with, either. Even a fae’s clothing is determined by the rank they are within their profession, and dressing like a higher rank than you are is punishable by some pretty harsh penalties.
The uniform for a guard with a castle detail, like the one I stole and am now wearing as I step into the night, is much more sophisticated than that of a ground guard, and a ground guard’s uniform is substantially more refined than a city guard’s.
Luckily for me, though, a shift change just took place, so as I make my way out into the streets of Tavatika Proper, I’m still blending in even though I’m wearing a castle guard’s uniform.
I’m heading to my favorite spot to get information: Whirlwind, the largest bar in Tavatika. There, fae of all walks of life, drink and dine together before heading back to wherever they call home, and as the night progresses, people are more willing to talk about things openly in front of eavesdropping onlookers like me.
After ordering a drink from the bar, I find a seat in the corner of the room where I can see everything that’s going on. It’s reasonably busy tonight, but that doesn’t distract me. If anything, it gives me more possible means to gain information.
The four fae I’m looking for were seen in this general area within the last week, so even if they don’t just walk through the door making my life a whole lot easier, someone here has probably seen or heard of them. Either way, I’m feeling pretty hopeful about my prospects when out of the corner of my eye, I see a flash of light through the window on my left. However, when I look out into the dark, I don’t see anything that could explain what I thought I saw.
Music striking up from the back wall of the bar distracts me from staring out the window, and my eyes drift over to the stage where light purple winged fae are just gearing up for a night of live music. The band is pretty good, no doubt well on their way to ‘making it big’ like Umbra, the singer that will be performing on Faedom Day that Mika is so excited to see, but I can’t let their music sidetrack me right now.
I glance down at the drink in front of me when a group of traders sits down at the table beside me, and just by looking at them, I know they’re the kind of fae that I need to be listening in on.
Traders all have teal wings and are the most knowledgeable about Arorial, in my opinion, because they’ve actually been everywhere in the country and worked closely with all the different nations’ people. If anyone knows of a ragtag group of random rebellion members running amok in the city, it would probably be these fae.
“Fuck that. I’m not going,” one of the traders says, and I know I’m coming into the middle of a conversation they were already having. “The king couldn’t pay me enough to get me to go back there.”
Another trader slaps him on the back good-naturedly and says, “Ah, get off your high horse, Nate, it wasn’t that bad.”
“Not that bad?” Nate asks as he turns his wide eyes on his friend. “That fiend wouldn’t take no for an answer! I told him I didn’t have any of what he was asking for on hand, and I got knocked the fuck out! Who knocks out a trader for not having something, huh?”
The other traders around the table reacted with a couple of head nods and a few murmurs of outrage, but none really answered the fae man, so he continued, “I mean, come on. It’s bad enough that our profession is being targeted and our supplies are being stolen, we don’t need any asshole red winged smiths jerking us around too.”
So, it was a smith that hit the trader? I wonder what kind. We’ve got everything from blacksmiths to leather smiths and everything in between here in Tavatika.
“You can say that again,” another trader says before he turns his drink up and swallows all of its contents in one long gulp before he slams his glass down and raises his hand to the servant behind the bar, motioning for another to be brought to him. “What’d that guy want anyway?” he asks once the servant acknowledges him.
Scoffing, Nate lowers his voice some as he says, “Get this. He wanted to know if I had any long-eared turtle oil. Like I would risk my neck or wings for something like that.”
That’s my cue.
Long-eared sea turtle oil is a highly illegal form of contraband. It possesses an almost magical component, and as such, is extremely versatile and highly coveted. It can be used to do everything from greasing mechanisms that have become rusty to giving a long and powerful high if it's injected. It takes up to something like seven long-eared sea turtles to create just one or two ounces of the prized oil. Unfortunately, despite it being declared illegal to even touch one of the majestic animals, they’ve still been hunted and harvested to near extinction.
Thinking quickly, I get up and walk over to the bar, taking the freshly made drink from the servant’s hands as I say, “I’ll take it to him, don’t worry about it,” before I turn around and walk back
to the traders’ table. Setting the drink down in front of the fae man, I ask, “What’s this about a smith interfering with traders?”
The hierarchy of our society mandates that he answers my question to the best of his ability, given the fact that I’m dressed as a guard; no one is allowed to refuse in such a situation.
Stammering some, the fae pales before he says, “Just some blacksmith we crossed paths with along my route. I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by what he did.” The look on his face tells me he’s probably more scared of me right now than he ever was of that smith that hit him, and something inside me screams about the fact that people can’t just have a normal conversation without fear around here.
“Be that as it may, I’m going to need you to tell me more about him. Did you catch his name? Where did you cross paths with him?” My hands land on my hips as I ask the questions, and the stance seems to only increase the fear I feel radiating from everyone at the table in front of me.
The trader glances at his friends before he looks back at me and says, “He’s new around here, just started working out of that abandoned building on Trinkle Street from what I understand. But really, guard, there’s no need for you to do anything about this. I’m sure it won’t happen again.”
His fear of repercussions is so thick I can feel it on the back of my neck. I hate that the lower ranks in our society have so much and so many to fear simply because they were born with different colored wings.
“Sir,” I say, giving him a respectable title no one else probably ever has before, making his eyes go wide as he looks at me, “I don’t stand well with abuse of the lower classes, so what this smith has done is definitely something I need to worry about.”
“But,” he tries to cut in, but I don’t let him.
“Just enjoy your drink and let me handle it,” I say just as I see another flash of light through the window I was sitting by before. “You guys have a good evening.”
Quickly, but nonchalantly, I make my way out of Whirlwind, and as soon as I’m shrouded by the cover of darkness, I run over to where I thought I saw the light emanating from.
Over in a crop of trees bordering the castle wall, something flashes again, and I instinctively know I’m not going to like what I’m about to discover, but I head in that direction anyway as silently as I possibly can.
Ducking beside a building so I can remain in its shadow, I peek around the corner, hoping to have a more unobstructed view of whoever or whatever is hiding amongst the trees, but of course, I’m not that lucky. There’s no way to see what’s going on unless I get much closer.
However, the guard’s uniform I’m wearing rattles a little when I move, and I don’t want to risk being heard. Underneath the uniform, I’m wearing what I could reasonably hide while in my disguise, which just happens to be my usual, casual clothing: tight-fitting black leather pants and a loosely fitting white tank top that does wonders for my chest. Quickly and quietly, I take off the uniform and stash it next to the building, hoping it doesn’t draw any attention before I can come back to claim it as I make a run for the tree line.
Once I’m there, I put my back up against one of the trees and listen to make sure no one saw me, and after a few moments, I know I’m in the clear.
Glancing around the tree next to me, I look toward the castle and see the shadows of a few fae bouncing off the wall behind them as they seem to be trying to get a fire going.
What the fae?
Why would anyone be attempting to make a fire right outside the castle? No one is allowed in these woods in the first place, don’t they know they’ll be captured as soon as it lights?
Inching closer, I watch and listen as whoever is attempting to light the fire says, “Any time now… I can feel it.” His bright red wings look iridescent with each spark that doesn’t successfully ignite the damp wood in front of him, but from the flashes of light it does create, I’m sure he’s one of the fae I’m looking for.
Quinn is his name, Quinn Frost of Wrogmar.
I tense immediately at the realization, but then my training kicks into high gear.
My breathing slows, my eyes narrow, my ears pick up sounds I wasn’t hearing earlier because I wasn’t paying as close attention to my surroundings as I am now. Every little twitch of movement around me is registering in my mind, and I know all four of them are present and accounted for, standing around Quinn Frost, where he kneels on the ground, rubbing sticks together furiously, creating the occasional burst of light I’m able to see by.
“Oh, you can feel it, can you?” the one named Lazlo says mockingly in his Igamoxan accent before he squats down and leans his head to one side. Looking right into Quinn’s face with a weird smile that shows off rows of perfect teeth, he asks, “Do you feel when she be wet too?”
Everything is dark for a second while it sounds like Quinn slapped Lazlo, and the sound is immediately followed by a maniacal laugh that sends a chill down my spine. A few seconds later, Quinn is back to trying to light the fire, and Lazlo is still laughing where he stands next to Quinn.
“I know the wood’s wet, Laz, just give me a minute,” Quinn says defensively, but he’s smiling.
A few silent beats pass before a soft glow begins to take shape in front of Quinn, and Lazlo makes a quiet whooping sound in celebration.
“Meh doe cah beh sho to fla weh. Twa teh fa guint talin tweh?” Roan Grissom asks in a deep voice with an accent I struggle to place while he gestures sporadically with his hands. I don’t know the words he said, but something about the way he speaks sounds familiar. However, I don’t have time to analyze it.
“He doesn’t think we should be doing this. He wants to know what will happen if a guard comes, I think,” Priya says as she looks pointedly over at Roan. “Is that right?”
Roan nods at her and points up at the castle in indication.
“Yeah, there are guards, but why the fuck would they ever look straight down into the trees? I bet no one ever comes here,” Quinn says, and immediately, I know he’s right.
The guards that are on the lookout at the top of the castle always have their sights set on the walls, looking for any fae attempting to fly over them, or out into the city for any signs of fire or other disruptions. They really don’t have a reason to look down.
However, the ground guards that work outside the castle do patrol the tree line of these woods, and if these fae aren’t careful, the next set of guards to do a perimeter check are sure to find them.
“Let’s just cook this rabbit and eat already. I’m fucking starving,” Priya says, and I look at her questioningly.
What the fae? Why are they trying to cook a rabbit in the woods? Don’t they know people inside the city that could help them out with a place to stay and food to eat?
“Meh foo weh,” Roan says.
It takes me a little bit to realize it, but Lazlo is steadily walking around the group, eyes to the outside world as he picks at his fingernails with a sharp-looking blade. Every now and then, he’ll squat down and look through the trees at a different angle, head cocked to the side as if he’s listening intently while Quinn cooks a fat rabbit and Roan and Priya lounge on the ground beside him.
When Lazlo makes his way around and faces my direction, butterflies and adrenaline flood my system. It looks as if he’s staring right at me, but I know logically he can’t see me, it’s just my fear getting the better of me.
I keep my breathing steady, but when he cocks his head to the side again and takes a couple of steps further, inching ever closer to me, I start to second guess myself.
Did I make a noise? I haven’t moved at all, and I’m barely breathing through my nose, I reason with myself, but it seems as if he’s looking me right in my eyes.
The look he’s sending my way is one step below crazy as a big smile spreads across his face, and he bends his knees a little, dropping his hands to his sides, the one with the dagger capturing most of my attention. He spins the blade around his wrist, catching it by the
handle perfectly as if he’s practiced the trick a million times.
He takes one more step toward me before Quinn calls out to him, “Laz, come eat.”
Lazlo stands up straight instantly but keeps his focus on the trees where I’m standing as he slowly backs up to the rest of the group.
When he gets there, he turns around and plops down to sit cross-legged in front of the fire as I release the breath I hadn’t known I’d been holding.
I know if Uncle were here, he’d tell me to back away quietly. I’ve seen them, I know where they are, and it would go a lot smoother if I had a better plan than just ambushing them because there are four of them and only one of me. There’s no doubt in my mind that these fae are extremely dangerous, and probably very skilled in combat, but it’s not like I haven’t taken on those kinds of odds before. I once took on six criminals at once and had all of them restrained and ready for transport within twenty minutes.
Now, those fae were nowhere near as well trained as these fae must be, but still. If I could figure out a way to tip the odds in my favor, I think I could take them. It is more a matter of strategy than anything else, I reason.
If I could snuff out their tiny fire somehow, I could attack them one by one as they scramble around, wondering what’s going on. They won’t even know they’re being attacked in the first place if I play my cards right. They’ll just think the fire went out because the wood was too wet to sustain it.
Once the plan is fully formed in my mind, I walk silently in a wide arc around the group, never once letting my eyes leave them. I figure Quinn is the most dangerous target, and I need to handle him first, so I start to sneak up behind him slowly.
I crouch down until I’m on my hands and knees right behind him, never once making a sound alerting my presence to them. Grabbing a handful of dirt, I use Quinn’s large form for cover as I throw the soil onto the fire with almost expert precision if I do say so myself.