It wasn’t fair. Her world had death, heartbreak, and crime; bottomless chasms in their chests that they could never fill. While humans suffered wars and plagues, these people had been living in eternal paradise.
She closed her eyes and tilted her head back. The past crumpled back into memory and she tore away from the window. The present was what mattered. The present was that she was trapped in a castle in another world. Or, well, another dimension, or realm, or however they wanted to coin it.
Without much plan, she took off again down the hall. The castle must have sensed her lack of direction because a soft shudder rippled beneath her feet. The next second, a sudden bend came up far too quickly.
The medieval styled decorum was now a Middle Eastern palace. Elaborate pillars of red, brown, and orange rose into blue arches that tunneled overhead down an endless corridor. The solid grey floor was now black and silver tiling that pulsed with magic at her weight.
After several minutes, she wondered if she’d stumbled into a trap. The previous halls had housed doorways and windows, or some general form of outlet. The sculptures and paintings had varied as well. Now, no matter how far she walked, there was only the forest of pillars. Maybe this particular hall had been enchanted to imprison intruders—or in her case, escapees.
The encroaching panic diffused with the approach of footsteps. Val dove behind the nearest pillar and prayed that whoever was there was coming from the opposite direction.
Several excruciating moments later, three figures passed in front of her. The man leading the procession was very tall and very thin. His white hair fell back like a plume of feathers, and his pale complexion was the first she’d seen of anyone truly fair skinned. Until this point, every angel she saw was decently tan—a blend of olive tones and their golden aura.
The woman to his right was tall, taller than him. An African headdress of teal stones and gold suggested nobility. The blue veil glided back to fall nimbly above the small of her back. A sweet scent drifted behind her. Val, perhaps by the Mark, was able to recognize it as Nigerian Christmas Roses.
Then there was the man heading up the rear. His skin looked like rough sandstone. While Gemini had been enveloped in the night sky, the man before her was devoid of all color. A white mundu flowed around his waist and legs with the subtle impression of a breeze. Instead of stars, tiny cracks ran along his bare chest in swirling patterns until they reached his stony arms.
The trio walked several feet farther, then turned into an arched entryway that Val was confident had not been there before. This was her opportunity to run. However, she had no idea where she was going, and the past twenty minutes was proof she couldn’t trust the hallways. Creeping pillar to pillar, she neared as close as she could without detection. She had to learn as much as possible about their world if she hoped to be rid of it.
Peering around the stone, the three dignitaries—or whatever they were—were standing at a high round table. The only thing of interest was something that resembled a crystal ball. The room was circular and unimaginably small in comparison to the expansive foyer just beyond it. Strange creatures were carved into the ceiling. An oval portrait of an aquatic beast was centered directly above the table. Carved along the walls were winged figures, male and female.
“Tell me, what do the birds want of us?” It was the large man with chalky skin. His voice was careful and low; vocal cords cut from the same stone as his body.
“Father,” the woman chided, “be respectful.” The warmth of her brown skin and sapphire eyes, which glowed even from Val’s distance, bled life into the room.
The thin man made a dismissive wave. “He’s quite alright. I personally advocated for you to rule the seas during the Accords. As a whole, the Orisha were the most competent, and by far, the least corrupt. But politics are politics, I suppose.”
Dove.
The Mark on Val’s chest pumped with rigor. He was the chief adviser to the king, as marked by the golden birds and runes stitched into his robe.
The living stone scoffed. “Then perhaps you can explain why my daughter was not elevated when the Grecian violated the Accords. Instead, you filled the spot with a Celestial.”
“Father!” Her blue eyes met his cinereal gaze and he sighed.
“Apologies, Seph Ọkan,” he muttered.
Seph Ọkan. High One.
“Again, all is well.” Dove made a welcoming gesture, then flicked his wrist. The crystal ball roared to life and a map of the world was projected at eye level. “Obatálá, Yemọja, it is an honor to have your counsel. I’m curious about operations in Jibhel Kumri.
“Our ‘Avenue of the Dead,’ as you birds call it,” the woman, Yemọja, chuckled. “There are always demons trying to tap into the current, but the rivers and mountains have been relatively peaceful.”
Obatálá nodded. “A few human explorers might stumble across the base, but the sheer power typically consumes them in seconds.”
Dove nodded, then moved his fingers over the projection. The region of Antarctica expanded, then divided into small zones. Val tried to lean closer without completely abandoning her cover. The Annwn appeared to hold the same landmasses and locale as Earth Proper, but simply bore different names and boundaries. Dove flicked his wrist again and a smaller screen appeared.
It was Avia. Val blinked, having completely forgotten about the girl. She was being dragged out of a casino by what looked like two giant seals in suits. Castor was running after them with pleading hands but the bouncers were ignoring him.
“What do you know of dreamwalkers?” Dove asked.
“Not as rare as in the West, but not common,” Yemọja remarked. She leaned closer and stared at Avia in fascination.
“The practice is common among shamans,” Obatálá continued. “But their skill isn’t at the level of natural dreamwalkers from the Old World.”
On the screen, they had now dragged Avia outside and were throwing her ungracefully into a mountain of snow. The mound melted to slush as she lunged back towards the men. Castor grabbed her around the waist, but not before she launched a ball of fire at the closest bouncer. He ducked, but it still singed the fur on top of his head.
Castor gave another apologetic nod before throwing Avia over his shoulder and running away from the casino. There was no sound, but Val could clearly infer that Avia’s screaming probably a string of colorful profanities.
“Now that’s interesting.” Obatálá moved for the first time, stepping around the table to eye the screen at different angles. “The fire?”
“That’s what I was hoping you could help with.” Dove’s last word drifted off as he turned to look directly at Val. Her stomach dropped and she pressed her back tight against the pillar, hoping to disappear into the stone. Several seconds passed and no one came. Obatálá and Yemọja were still speaking, but there was no talk of an intruder. Then silence. Finally, daring to peek again, Val found herself alone once more in the empty hall. The room was gone.
“We’re wasting our time,” Avia grumbled. She rested a hand against one of the frozen lampposts to catch her breath. “We’ve been walking all day and haven’t seen anything the least bit suspicious. The theatre, the diner, the day care center… The security guards at that casino were rude.”
“You threatened to burn the place down when you lost at blackjack,” Paris interjected.
Avia rolled her eyes. “But I doubt we’ll find anything in the city. Whatever’s going on won’t be lying in the open.”
“Still, we can’t just stop here,” Castor spoke. Avia followed Paris’ gaze down the sidewalk and stared at each passing patron. Mother and child amaroks exiting a candy shop. An octopus-merman playing both guitar and cajón on the corner. A group of kids loudly talking about a swimming match. Avia darted her eyes from one person, to another, trying to find something out of the ordinary. But there was nothing. Everyone was happy, carefree, and content… Steam rose from her hands as she clenched her fists, infuriated they’d wasted the e
ntire afternoon.
“Oi, es that even legal?” a high-pitched voice said.
Avia darted her eyes to the children, now huddled directly across the street. She looked up at Paris, who nodded, then proceeded to walk back down the sidewalk and cross the street. A safe distance from the group, she struck her best tourist look and pretended to stare at one of the window displays.
“I on’t know,” one of the other kids replied. Avia smirked, having hopefully found some excitement. She pulled out the map-brochure they’d picked up that morning and leaned into the conversation.
“What I do know is they pick em up far out of the country and bring them ‘ere,” a boy tried to whisper. Stealth was a forté of none of the children—a fact Avia was most grateful for.
“Jus for a show?” the girl in the trio asked.
“No, not jus a show,” the second boy answered, shaking his head. “Dad said it’s one of the reasons Ys even exists. ‘We live for it’s our lifeline.’”
Whatever the boy meant by that was left to the imagination. One of the kids pointed to the candy shop and they quickly started back the opposite direction. Avia burned the map to ash and cut across the street. They were illegally bringing people in from other countries for a show? Human trafficking? Slave festival? She couldn’t give them the benefit of the doubt because they were children. If they’d been raised around evil then even the most obscene acts would be normal.
Fire slowly spread down her arm as she closed in on the group. Twenty feet. Ten. Five. She gripped the flames in the palm of her hand, ready to strike. As she slowly pulled her hand back, a sharp pain struck her thigh. She fell to her knee.
The children stopped and turned around, confusion and concern on their faces.
“Are yeu alright, miss?” one of the kids, a boy with dark hair and freckles, asked.
It took a moment to process the thick accent. Before she could answer, a black hand fell on her shoulder and warmth pulsed through her coat.
“She’s fine,” Paris said with a bright smile. “Just tripped, that’s all. But thank you so much for your concern!”
“No problem at all,” the girl answered with an equally large grin. “Is plain yeu two aren’t from around here, so the ice walkways can be tricky at first.”
“Well, we are thankful to have three locals to help us out!”
Avia tried to stand, but another stab from Paris’ fingertips kept her down. With a deep sigh, she lifted her head and forced a small smile. “Thanks.”
The second boy laughed. He looked almost identical to the other, but with blond hair. “Yeu really are green. We soun nothing like the locals here!” He flexed his arm and his body covered in green scales. He was more reptilian than the Atlanteans, and when she glanced down, Avia noticed he had sprouted a ridged tail as well.
“Dragons,” Paris remarked, bringing a hand to her chin.
The freckled boy underwent a similar transformation, though his scales were orange. “We just arrived from the Northern Kingdom this morning! The North-West part.”
“Our parents ere in’ational herb traders, so we’ve come ta Ys e’ry few months,” the girl continued. She didn’t change like her brothers, but her pupils dilated to narrow, lizard-like slits. “We normally on’t come untiil August, but mum wanted to see the—”
“Ice sculptures!” the blond boy interjected with a jab to her ribs.
Avia narrowed her eyes and looked up to Paris. The Celestial only smiled. “They are beautiful. Oh! Have you three been to that candy shop down the street?”
All three of them lit up as they turned their heads to the flashing yellow sign. “The moon sand and peppermint toffee is the best!” the girl exclaimed.
“Nuh-uh,” the freckled boy argued, crossing his arms. “Yeu hav to go for ta chocolate peanut butter tarantula legs!”
Paris turned to the blond boy who’d been relatively quiet. “What do you like?” she asked.
He looked down and shrugged. “I on’t know... Anything gummy and sour, really. Like candies in the Western Kingdom that are shaped like worms.”
“He’s so mundane!” the girl giggled, slapping him on the back.
“Hey, I like gummy sour candy,” Castor boomed. Before any of the kids could prepare themselves, Paris was gone and her massive brother loomed over them. “I don’t think we’re boring. Eh, Avia?”
Avia stood to her feet and brushed herself off. “Yeah, sure.” She was shocked at how casual they could be at a time like this. They needed to interrogate these kids, not make friends. She took a step towards them, but a massive hand clapped back on her shoulder.
“Whoa! I’ve never seen a mirage li yeu, sir,” the girl said in awe. They all tilted their heads back to take him in. It looked like they were trying to follow the map of stars across his body.
Good luck with that, Avia thought. She’d already tried and failed several times herself.
“I’m a special build,” he chuckled. “Now you guys run along. I’m going to make sure my friend didn’t hurt her knee when she fell.”
With a quick wave, the kids disappeared down the street and into the candy shop. When they were out of sight, Castor removed his hand and leaned against the building nearest to them.
“What the hell was that?!” Avia hissed, violently motioning towards the store.
“What were you going to do, Avia?” Castor asked with a mocking raise of his brow. “Burn three small children alive in the middle of a crowded street? They were, what, ten? Twelve?”
Avia opened her mouth to retort but stopped. She hadn’t really thought through what she would’ve done when they caught the kids. Castor was right, even aside from their age there were too many witnesses.
“Okay, fine,” she huffed, throwing up her hands. “Maybe I didn’t think it through.” She ignored his satisfied smirk. “But you heard them. Something’s going on. Tonight. And now we have no leads. We can’t leave until we find the grimoire, and I don’t know about you two, but I don’t want to be in this icebox any longer than I have to. Now, whether you’re coming with me or not, I’m marching into that store and—”
“Avia,” Castor sighed, reaching for her arm. Avia side stepped out of his grasp and sent a wave of fire to his face with the back of her hand. A passing couple slowed and stared, but quickly sped away as Avia shot them a cold glare.
“You’re making a scene!” Paris whispered. Castor’s eyes darted both ways across the street. Avia looked around to see several shoppers quickly avert their gaze. They continued on like they hadn’t seen the confrontation.
“Diplomacy,” said Castor. “We can’t go starting chaos every time we need information. Besides, we already know where they’re going.”
The red that had been creeping into Avia’s vision faded. Her arms fell to her side. “We do?”
“They dropped this.” Castor held out a flyer. Avia took the paper and wrinkled her nose.
Circ D’Undead!
576th Annual Celebration- With special guests,
Freyr and Freya!
Citizens Only
Beneath the text was a picture of a stout Selkie man with a thick, curled mustache. Above him were two acrobats on a tightrope. They each had long, pale-blond hair braided down their back. As Avia compared their near-identical build and facial features, she became positive they were related. She just couldn’t tell what they were. They looked human, but their bodies were grey and… rotted? Bone could be seen around the woman’s left eye. Freya, she assumed. The skin on her brother, Freyr’s, right arm was practically gone.
“The Norse Twins,” Castor spoke, breaking Avia’s concentration. “They went missing several centuries ago. The sempiternus—zombie— appearance is new, but that’s them.”
“They were a part of the Vanir,” Paris continued. “Gods of fertility and wisdom with the ability to see into the future. After the Accords, Freya and Freyr stepped down from the godhead and served the Northern Queen. Freya governed the Light Elves in Álfheimr and Freyr
ruled the Dark Elves under the earth.
Castor took the flyer from Avia’s hand and stared at the grotesque fae rulers. “On the day of the current Northern King’s ascension, there was an attack. Human hunters invaded one of the enchanted forests, and the twins were the first to respond.”
The Mark on Avia’s arm flared to life, and she was taken into a vision. Hunters tore through the forest on horseback, each wielding a glowing scythe-like weapon. One by one, each of the fae met a gruesome death. Satyrs were de-hoofed. Centaurs split down the middle. Then the fairies. Before they could scream, the scythes dug into their backs and rooted out their wings. The then-mortal fae were left to bleed out— if they weren’t trampled underfoot.
The vision hurled Avia back to the icy walkway. She clenched her fists in an effort to control the fire, but the skin around her eyes started to crack. Flames swam beneath the surface and smoke wafted from burning lips.
It was disgusting. The thought that anyone could hunt and dismember innocent people like that… For money; for sport… She ground her teeth at the image of two small children clutching each other behind a tree. Three men came up behind and—
“Avia!”
She opened her eyes as both voices of Gemini shouted her name. Castor was shaking her shoulders. She stepped away from him and squatted down against the stone wall. After several labored breaths, she rose back to her feet and met his gaze. She couldn’t read him, but he looked somewhere between concerned and confused. She narrowed her eyes to a glare and he quickly went back to examining the flyer.
“I… Didn’t expect you to be that concerned,” he said after a moment.
She opened her mouth to protest, then bit her lip. He was right. The fae had no value to her, and she should be focused on tracking down the Arkhen. But still… What those hunters did was the exact reason she had to destroy the world. Humans were worthless and evil; an infestation to be wiped out.
“Don’t tell me you’re not pissed,” she said finally. Crossing the alley, she peered over his shoulder at the flyer.
Castor raised his head to look at her. “It was an unfortunate event.”
When We Were Still Human Page 20