Death Card

by A C Wilds

  “Yes, of course. Please Azra, have a seat. This is my wife Ariel and my sons Cassiel and Daniel. We didn’t get a chance to be introduced last night. I am Michael, the leader of the Seelie Court or Court of Light. We are known as Fae, or sometimes can be referred to as angels. I am Michael, the Archangel,” he states, so matter of factly.

  I can’t help but to lose it then. A long hard belly laugh, that brings tears to my eyes, escapes my mouth and is directed right in his face. I must look like a deranged lunatic because they are all just staring at me. It’s all getting to me now. Instead of crying, the laughter is making all the emotions come out. I feel relieved there is some release. As I catch my breath, he speaks.

  “What is so funny?” Michael fumes.

  “So, you are telling me that you...this, is The Seelie Court? The Light? Angels? What is this, some fucked up version of Dungeons and Dragons? Next, your gonna tell me you have unicorns in the stables and brownies working in the kitchen,” I say, like the snarky bitch that I am.

  “What did I say to you last night? This attitude of yours is going to get you into considerable trouble. A sidhe of your power should not be ridiculing her own people,” he spits out forcefully. It seems he is losing his patience with me. I don’t know if that is a good thing.

  “Excuse me? You just said, my people? I am not what you think I am. I am a human female, and I’m pretty sure I am not, what did you call it, shee?

  “Yes, that is what I said, sidhe. It is the supreme race of the Fae — the ruling class. The only Fae who are deemed important in our world,” he says, with his nose in the air and his head held high. Can this guy get any more pretentious?

  “Well, thank you for the explanation, but I have no idea what this fantasy world of yours has to do with me,” I say sarcastically. I am beginning to think this is all a bad dream. How could this be real? It’s everything I don’t believe in, although deep down, I’m not sure what to believe anymore.

  An exasperated sigh leaves Michael’s lips. The youngest son, Daniel looks very amused by everything that was just said. I can tell this is the most excitement he has had in a long time, and he is reveling in it. Cassiel seems indifferent, and Ariel is fuming. A bright red shade has crept up her neck, and there is a fire in her eyes. I guess no one has ever spoken to the Seelie King like that, and she must be taking it personal.

  “Let us eat, and then we can discuss more about what is real and what isn’t,” exclaims Michael. I take a seat because there really is no other option here, and if I am truthful, I’m still starving.

  At his prompt, the waiters start filling the plates with large amounts of food. I look down at my dish and see bacon, eggs, potatoes, toast, and fresh fruit. A bowl of Lucky Charms is placed on the side of my dish. I quickly trade plates with the bowl and begin eating the cereal with abandon. The cold soup and crusty bread this morning were not enough. I’m so focused on eating that I don’t realize someone is talking to me until I hear my name being called.

  “What? Did someone say something?” I ask, not looking at any one person.

  “Yes, I was asking how you slept last night,” said the eldest son Cassiel, not the fuckboy.

  “As well as can be expected for a prisoner,” I reply, looking at him with a very annoyed expression, even if he is the hottest thing I have ever seen.

  “You are not a prisoner, Azra. You are our guest,” states Michael, with almost a smirk on his face. He knows that I’m aware that I am not a fucking guest. He also thinks it’s quite amusing.

  “If I were a guest, I would have the option to leave. You have given me no such option. You have made it very clear that my freedom rests in your hands,” I spit at him. This guy is starting to get on my last nerve — what a douchebag.

  “Even though it may seem that way to you, it is the furthest from the truth. We brought you here for your safety. How old are you?”

  “I’ll be 25 in a week,” I tell him, with a what-does-this-have-anything-to-do-with-it look.

  “Well, your powers are going to begin to manifest. It’s fortuitous that we found you in time.”

  “As much as this makes sense to you, it makes none to me. Either you start at the beginning, or you leave me out of this crazy nonsense you have been spewing for the last twenty minutes.”

  “Your sass is going to get you into more trouble than you can handle. If I were you, I’d watch how you speak to your King!” yells Ariel. She throws her fists down on the table making all the glasses shake. She is angry. Pure hatred swirls out of her every pore. She is like a volcano ready to erupt, and it is all aimed at me.

  “Azra, maybe it’s best if we take a walk? I’ll show you around the palace and get you acquainted with your new home,” Cassiel interjects, sensing something terrible may happen if I stay here. By the looks of things, I am stirring the pot at this moment, and I could care less. These two rulers have no idea what they jumped into when they captured Azra Sumner.

  “Yeah, I think I’m done here anyway,” I say, while rising to my feet. I push my chair with the back of my legs, as I stand up, making a loud scraping sound that echoes off of the colorless dining room walls. Cassiel’s chair makes no noise, as he rises to meet me.

  We walk toward the enormous double doors, I glance over and notice a bit more about the Prince. He is tall, maybe 6’2”. Thin, but with muscles, almost like a ballet dancer. He has a healthy head of combed blond hair speckled with golden highlights. Not a single strand is out of place. He walks with the cockiness of a real prince. Someone who knows their worth and makes sure the whole world does too. I don’t get a good look at his face because it is so stuck up in the air. I have a feeling this isn’t going to go well. He is going to be a problem.

  As we exit the dining room, I turn toward him and ask, “So Cass, what is all this talk of fairies, the Light, and angels? Am I in some cult where people are brainwashed zombies? Is this a dream, or does someone want to take five minutes to let me know what the fuck is going on?” I give him my full attention, staring into the side of his face. It’s a gorgeous face.

  Cassiel stops mid-stride and turns to face me. I finally get a good view, and damn it, he is stunning — chiseled jaw and stormy grey eyes. His nose is straight, and he has a cleft in his chin. He has a dusting of a beard, and his eyebrows are perfectly manicured. He is pretty and handsome in a clean, crisp way. My insides are doing that hot burning thing again, and I’m starting to feel a little flustered.

  “Azra,” he says, with a sigh on his lips. “Please, there is no need to be rude. This is not a cult or commune. You are in the Seelie Court, the Court of Light. We are Fae, not fairies. We no longer have wings, nor are we visions of fictional writers. We are real and powerful beings who rule this realm and every Light Fae in it. Angel is a term adopted by an ancient civilization. They called us that because they believed we were messengers of the gods: not gods ourselves, but a direct link. It was a time when the true gods ruled, and the Fae were merely walking alongside them. When the gods of old fell, we took their place. We created monotheism as a means to control humans better. It gave them one focal point instead of many. Humans need to be given direction, Azra. They cannot be left to think for themselves.”

  I am stunned. Floored really. I have never met someone with such ice in their voice. It is so disappointing that this gorgeous guy is such a dick. A fucking dick with a capital D.

  “Well Cass, I guess you better start talking while we walk, because so far, I have seen no proof of anything you are talking about. There has been nothing out of the ordinary here except everyone being a complete jerk to me. Oh, and the fact that I was stolen and am currently being held prisoner by some guy who thinks he’s an archangel!” I can’t take much more of this. I’m not getting through to these people. They are convinced that they are right, and you can’t argue with ignorant and delusional people.

  With that last breath, the air begins to get thick, almost pliable. It is now humid and moist, but it was as dry as the desert before.
Right in front of my face, a rain cloud starts to appear. It begins to accumulate and grow bigger. Soon thunder can be heard and streaks of lighting form in the middle.

  “Are you…are you doing this?” I gasp.

  “Yes,” says Cass. “And this is just a small sample of what I am capable of. So, if I were you, I’d stop complaining and observe. Let me show you the world you were born for. There is so much you don’t know, and so much that you need to be taught. Please Azra, stop fighting it all and accept the truth in front of you” He says the last part like a prayer. He wants me to believe.

  I am speechless, and I am never at a loss for words. The cloud is still in between us, but I can make out the outline of his beautiful face. It starts to disappear as I stand frozen, thinking about what he said. Could this be all true? I never believed in the supernatural. I mean I live with Noli, and she believes in all of this. We did our tarot readings, and it was fun, but is there more to it than just entertainment? I make fun of her all the time for believing in the unbelievable. She would practice these rituals and put herbs all around the house, but I thought it was just Noli being Noli. What if she is part of this? Could she have been lying to me this whole time? They seem to know everything about me, so her being a spy sort of makes sense, but the thought of my best friend being an imposter is something I don’t want to consider.

  I’ve always been someone who was so sure that what we see in our world is what we get. I’ve never subscribed to the magic or mystical beliefs, but now everything I thought I knew seems shaky at best. After Cass’s little demonstration, I’ve got to start opening myself up to new possibilities...could I be a part of this world? It would explain my ability to stop time and my blowback powers that I recently developed. I was able to do these things. I have powers that I need to learn how to control before I hurt someone innocent. Looking up into Cassiel’s eyes, I can see that he wants to help. His motivations aren’t clear, but he genuinely looks like he is interested in how I come out of this.

  “Ok, you have my attention. Where do we start?” I say, giving as much sincerity as I can muster. I want him to know I am serious, and from now on will cooperate as best I can so I can figure this whole situation out.

  “We start in the barn, of course,” he says calmly, as if everyone starts there.

  “Wait, what?! You have a barn? Full of horses?” I say to him, jumping up and down in place. I feel like a five-year-old again. This is the best news I have heard since I got here.

  “Yes, full of horses who have high-caliber breeding. Most of the horses are show jumpers. There are one or two dressage horses, but most types of Fae breeds don’t have the patience for that. They want to run, jump, and cause trouble. Some of the bloodlines can be traced back thousands of years. It’s all fascinating if you like that sort of thing. I’m also a jumper, so I figured this would be the best place for us to find common ground and work on our relationship,” he says, as he leans closer into me as we walk. I take two steps away from him. I don’t want to give him the wrong impression.

  “I hope you mean working relationship because I don’t date…ever,” I tell him. I need to make it loud and clear that I can’t be involved.

  “Of course, that's what I meant,” he says, but I notice he turns away from me before he says it.

  Barn of Light

  Azra

  Walking across the palace grounds is eye-opening. This is an extensive piece of property. There are manicured gardens with vegetables and giant flower beds. In the distance, I spot a weeping willow on the far edge of the property that must be massive if I can make it out from here. It is hands down the most beautiful place that I’ve even been.

  Around the back of the property stands a building that looks like a castle made of all of stone and wood. This stable is breathtaking. It seems medieval, but you can see the modern touches like electric sconces and doors on mechanical wheels. There is a courtyard in the center and branches leading to hallways. It looks like one big wheel.

  I walk through the grand archway, eyes wide and awe-struck. This place is every equestrian’s dream. There are handlers, riders, and trainers everywhere. It is like it’s own little working city. The flow of it puts me into a trance. For the first time since I was taken, I feel more in my element. This is my language. This was how I have coped with all the crap life threw at me since I was a little girl. Cass was right to bring me here first. He is smarter than he looks.

  “What do you think?” Cass asks in a quiet tone, like he might spook me if he talks too loud.

  “It’s uh…kind of amazing. I truly have never seen anything like it,” I say breathlessly.

  “I’m glad you like it. I want to give you a full tour, but first, let me introduce you to the stable manager. His name is Bartholomew. He’s been in service of my family for over 100 years.” he says.

  “Excuse me? 100 years? How is that even possible?” I question.

  “Fae are immortal unless killed. We do not sicken or age in appearance at anywhere near the rate that humans do. We are perfect forever.” And there it is. The arrogant male is back. I am intrigued though.

  “Well, that is unexpected and awesome. Is it ok if I ask how old you are?”

  “I’m 583 years old, give or take a year. After a while, you stop counting.”

  “Holy cannoli! You're like an ancient being! You were alive during Leonardo Da Vinci’s life, the birth of America, and the Wild West! That must mean your parents are even older than that!”

  “Yes, my father is ageless. He was created with the first Fae. My mother came later, but I don’t even think they remember how long they’ve been alive.

  “That’s sad. Who doesn’t love a good birthday party? With presents and cake.”

  “That’s a human custom, something the Fae don’t practice,” he says, with the arrogance he can’t let go of for more than five minutes. He is indeed making it hard to like him.

  I don’t get a chance to respond. A tall skinny stick of a man comes stalking out of one of the main arteries dressed in breeches, a polo, and some costly riding boots. He is spotless. Not a smudge of dirt or speck of horse hair. I can’t believe this could be the stable manager. He’s too clean, too perfect. But then he opens his mouth, and it tells me all I need to know.

  “Your Highness, always a pleasure. Sorry about the mess. The plebeians have been slacking off again.” he drawls out, with a sneer on his lips. He gives me the creeps. His hair is oily, and it looks like he must not wash it.

  “It’s alright, Bartholomew. I know you’ll get them into shape in no time. You’ve been through this before — training new plebeians to conform to our rules and procedures,” says Cass. He is agreeing with the stable manager, but the prince also has a look of disgust in his eyes.

  I have two thoughts at this moment looking between the two of these males. One, Bartholomew is a fucking moron, and two, what the hell is a plebeian? “What is a plebeian?” I ask Cass, because I’d die of curiosity if I don’t.

  “A plebeian is a servant — a human with no Fae heritage. They work for the palace and my father. They are assigned different tasks depending upon their skills or education. Think of them as background noise. Nothing you need to worry about,” Cass says to me.

  “So, basically you have slaves?” I ask in disbelief. I’m in utter shock. This is just proving how much I don’t belong here.

  “Well, I wouldn’t say that,” Cass says a little less sure of himself.

  “Do they get paid? Have medical benefits? Are they able to leave the palace grounds when they choose?” I can’t believe I am having this conversation right now. To think that there are beings, who find themselves better than us, that would have the audacity to keep slaves, and then almost joke about it. My stomach is starting to get sick. The same powerful vibration starts to creep down my arms, and my face is feeling flushed. I might use my powers again. Which one, I have no idea, but it seems to be coming to a powerful point, and then it suddenly stops.

  “Az
ra, you need to calm down,” Cass says, while lowering his hands. So, he stopped me from using my powers. “Even though you think these humans are slaves, they aren’t. They get room and board in exchange for their services. No one is mistreated. They do get medical attention when needed, and we even sometimes let them ride the horses.”

  “That’s disgusting. You are trying to justify human slavery! I don’t want to see this barn or speak to you any longer. Take me back to my cage now!” I scream, not only for myself but for these people. I have been here a little over 24 hours, and I can’t stand the thought of staying around any longer. Yeah, the magic part is cool, and I probably will fuck something up with my powers, but I can’t stick around and be associated with these people.

  I am seething. If smoke could come out of my ears, it would. My anger is palpable — a living thing. There is a fire in my eyes and warmth in my hands. This feels different than before when using my powers. I feel if I don’t cool down, I will burst into flames. I take a step back, and then another, and another until I am turned around and walking away. Fuck them! I need to get my shit together before I hurt someone. I have zero control over my newly found powers, and I’m pissed that I need these assholes to learn to control it.

  I am half way back to the house when I hear footsteps behind me. I turn around and see the person to blame for this entire fucking situation – Greyson. “What the fuck do you want?” I spit out. No sense in pretending to be nice. He must realize how much I want to dick-kick him right now.

  “I am supposed to walk you back to your room,” he says, with just as much enthusiasm as I have.

  “No, thank you. I can find my way.”

  “It wasn’t a request. Either I do it, or there are going to be consequences. Trust me, neither of us wants that option.” He says this sternly but also with a bit of regret. He knows this is all his fault. He knows that it’s because of him that I am trapped here.