by Ren Curylo
Moriko nodded. “I will vouch for Ársa’s worthiness, Lady Adamen,” she said.
“In that case, please, step into the clearing,” she said to Ársa, stepping aside to allow them passage. “How may the Lilitu be of service to you this day?”
“We have a matter of importance to discuss with your queen. Would it be possible to speak with her?” Ársa asked.
“In regard to?” Adamen asked politely.
“Surely you have noticed the darkness of the world, though it is somewhat livelier here in your area,” Moriko said.
Adamen nodded. “Aye,” she said, “we have grave concerns about the fate of the mortal world, and in turn that gives us great trepidation about what shall become of our own world. They are inextricably connected here. But I thought your people were working on a solution to give us a new start somewhere else.”
“We are,” Moriko said, “but we’ve hit a bit of a snag in our methodology for the Fae.”
“We have a proposal to salvage the Fae but it will require some faith in us on the part of your people. We have recruited several other Fae races to join us already. It wouldn’t be a completed mission without representation from your colony as well,” Ársa said.
Adamen looked at him, sizing him up. She smiled and her eyes lit up as she looked back up his body and into his face. “We’ve heard about your visits to other Fae groups. But you two aren’t the only ones. There have been visits to the Water Fae as well, and the Air Fae.”
“Yes,” Moriko said. “We are trying to find you all and we’ve had to rely on word of mouth to a fair extent. We would like to leave no one out since the result will mean certain death for those who don’t participate.”
Adamen frowned. “It’s as serious as that? Are you certain?”
“Yes,” Ársa said. He saw no use in softening the blow. “This world is dying. In fact, we believe it’s in the last stages and it won’t be much longer. We don’t give it more than a year or two before life is unsustainable here.”
“And you can save folks?” the red-haired beauty asked.
“We believe we can,” Moriko said. “We have plans to create a new world.”
“You have the power to do that?”
“Aye,” Moriko said. “Ársa is the finest creator we have. We have great faith that he will accomplish what needs to be done.”
“And we have many others working on the project too,” Ársa said modestly. “With all of us together, I believe we’ll succeed.”
“I see. Wait here, I’ll see if the queen will see you.”
“Thank you, Adamen.”
The young woman vanished, leaving them standing at the edge of the clearing. Many other doors opened and female heads peeked out at them before the doors quickly closed and stayed that way. They did, however, see blinds and curtains rustle and move from time to time to alert them that the Lilitu were still keenly watching them.
“They are all women,” Ársa said.
“Yes,” Moriko said, looking at him askance. “The Lilitu are all female Fae.”
“How is that possible?”
“They have male breeding stock, but they are kept somewhere apart and are not involved with the daily lives of the women. We assess the male children at birth to see which ones to keep for breeding. The other males, retired from the breeding process, will raise them. The villages are all populated and run by females.”
“I see,” Ársa said. “Intriguing.”
“Fucker,” Moriko said with a laugh.
“Every chance I get,” Ársa said, laughing with her. “And that’s why I won’t give you a go at me,” she said cockily. “If you did, there would be no others,” he vowed. “Oh, famous last words,” she snorted.
They grew silent as the door opened and Adamen reappeared. She motioned them forward and met them halfway between the doorway and the edge of the forest.
“The queen will see you now,” she said.
“What is her name?” Ársa asked. “I don’t want to address her improperly.”
“Erish,” Adamen said. “Her name is Queen Erish.”
“Thank you,” Ársa said.
Adamen led them inside, closing the door behind them. The opening was small enough that Ársa had to duck under the frame to enter. He hoped the ceilings would be tall enough, once inside, that he wouldn’t have to shrink his size any.
That proved not to be the case, and he had to temporarily crop nearly a foot from his height. It made him feel at a disadvantage. Any time he had to alter his size, he felt exhausted afterward. It was his least favorite ability.
Erish sat on a throne that looked more like a moss-draped iris bloom than any chair they had ever seen. She was regal in a plunging, diaphanous crimson robe. She sat with her chin up, her head held high. Her blue-black hair was captured in a neat braid that trailed from the back of her head, over her shoulder to curl in her lap like a sleeping cat.
She looked at her visitors with calm brown eyes, assessing them as they entered her chamber behind Adamen.
“Your Highness,” Adamen said, “may I present Ársa and Moriko? They have come to discuss a matter of importance with you.”
Erish looked at her guests coolly. “Please seat them here.” She indicated chairs similar to her own, situated in front of her and slightly to her left. She sat silently watching them until they were seated. “Thank you, Adamen, you may go. I’ll summon you when they are ready to leave.”
“Yes, your highness,” the young Lilitu said with a stiff bow. She silently left the room.
After the door closed behind Adamen, Erish turned to her guests. “How may I help you?”
“Actually, we are here to help you,” Ársa said with a charming smile.
“That’s intriguing,” Erish purred with a seductive smile. “Please, do go on.”
Ársa explained the reason for their visit and detailed what they had in mind for the mission as far as it concerned the Fae races. Moriko helped him fill in detail. He summed up his presentation with what the consequences of staying behind would mean for those who did not join the mission.
“So you’re saying you’ve failed in your mission to take our essence and recreate us as you initially planned.”
Ársa shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t like this assessment of failure. “More or less,” he reluctantly admitted. “It seems the magic of the Fae has thwarted even our advanced scientists.”
Erish chuckled. “Your underlings have been here upwards of five times, scrapping each and every one of us for our essence, and it seems it was all for naught.”
“It’s a painless procedure,” Moriko said. “It took little away from you except a phial of spittle.”
Erish bowed her head in concession. “That is true,” she said. “What size delegation do you have in mind, Ársa?”
“We will split your population into groups of ten, since we have a total of ten mission scheduled to depart.”
“That means we’ll have to split our males into groups, as well. I’ll need to decide who goes with whom.”
“Does it matter which ones go together?” Ársa asked.
“I think it does,” Erish said. “I would prefer to travel with your group, for example. I must make sure each group has males of the proper quality.”
“I’ll see what I can do about that, Queen Erish,” Ársa said, “but that ultimately isn’t up to me. There’s a committee who decides the placement, but I will inform them of your request.”
“Is Moriko part of your crew and traveling with you?” Erish asked.
“Yes, I am,” Moriko said. “I’m Ársa’s forestry officer.”
“That’s definitely where I want to be with my group of Lilitu,” Erish said with a firm nod.
“I’ll inform the committee,” Ársa said.
“It seems to me that if you are capable of doing all the things you said you’d do, then you people are, in fact, gods, deities. At least, that’s how I understand it. Am I correct?” Erish looked intently at them b
oth.
Ársa shifted uncomfortably. That label was becoming a familiar refrain among the creatures he had spoken to about the necessity to cooperate on this mission. It was something others on his team had reported to him as well. “I am not comfortable with that assessment. I assume you think this because we are planning to help create a new world for much of the life in this one. If that’s your definition of a deity, I suppose it fits, but it’s not how I think of my Envoy and myself. We do all vow to look after and protect your people at least until you are settled and established and are able to do so for yourselves.”
Erish laughed. “That definitely sounds like gods to me. However, I can see that your Moriko is not entirely comfortable with the idea either. It’s interesting that we have such humble gods among us.”
“I’m sure you will find others more willing to accept that mantle,” Moriko said.
“I’ve no doubt,” Erish agreed. “I think it’s an excellent idea, and I will be quite pleased to cooperate with your journey. What is the deadline for giving you my list of participants?”
“I’ll come back in two weeks,” Ársa said. “And at that time I’ll give you our departure information to pass along to your subjects.”
“Perfect,” Erish said. She rang a tiny bell attached to her throne. Almost instantly, Adamen appeared. “Adamen,” she said as the young woman stepped into the room. “Please see our guests out. And note in the ledger for whoever is on duty that Ársa will be returning in two weeks.”
“Yes, Queen Erish,” Adamen said with a quick curtsey. “Please, follow me,” she said, turning to the guests.
2 weeks later
Lilitu Grove Taeda 20
Erish Erish walked briskly into her throne room. “Adamen,” she shouted. When she didn’t receive a response quickly enough, which for the impatient queen, was at the ending of the letter n, she shouted the young woman’s name again.
“Yes, Mama,” came the reply from the hallway behind her. “Oh, there you are, Adamen,” Erish said. “You’re not on duty today?”
“No, Mama, that’s why I called you Mama instead of ‘your highness’,” Adamen said.
Erish smiled. “Well, keep an eye out for that handsome Ársa, and when he arrives, have whoever is on duty send him right in.”
“Yes, Mama,” Adamen said as she turned to leave the room through the guarded doorway at the opposite end from where they had entered. “What did he ask you, Mama?” she said, turning back to her mother.
Erish smiled. “It was official business, darling, and you’ll find out soon enough. I’ll make an announcement tonight regarding the matter. You can wait and hear it along with everyone else.”
“Certainly, Mama. I’ll let the guard know and I’ll watch for Ársa at the edge of the clearing.”
“Thank you, darling,” Erish said. “Straighten your dress. Did you brush your hair at all today?” Her tone was critical as her daughter left the room.
She had no more than settled herself onto her throne after the door closed behind her daughter when it opened again and Adamen stepped back inside.
“Your Highness,” the young woman said, “your appointment is here. May I announce Ársa into your royal presence?”
“You may, Adamen, and thank you.” She was pleased with her only child’s royal demeanor. She will make a wonderful queen when I leave here with Ársa, she thought. No one, not even Adamen knew what the human, if that’s what he was, had discussed with her. She had spoken to no one over the last two weeks as she had worked out the list of who would be accompanying them.
“Queen Erish,” Ársa said, smiling at the queen. He bowed his head in deference, though he did not do a formal bow to her.
“Ársa,” she said with a smile. She looked him over appreciatively. He is quite handsome for one of his species. “You are punctual, I see. That’s admirable.”
“Thank you, Queen Erish. I hate to be abrupt and please don’t think it rude of me, but I must get the list and be on my way. Our time is growing short and we have a multitude of things to accomplish before we depart.
“This ship or whatever it is your departure is utilizing,” Erish asked, “what’s its name?”
“We call it Na Réaltaí,” he said. “I can give you a listing of the nine others if you’d like. I know the first one leaving is called New Hope.”
“Thank you, I’m sure my Lilitu will be glad to know the names.”
“Have you spoken to them yet?”
“No,” Erish said. “I was planning to make a formal announcement after we’re done here today.”
“Very good, your highness, you need to give them as much time to prepare as possible. Do you have the list?”
“Yes,” she said, sliding the parchment out of her sleeve. The Lilitu normally didn’t keep such things as paper and writing utensils around. Adamen had stolen them for her from a nearby farm. The farm was abandoned years ago and apparently, no one thought paper and pens were worth taking. She had mashed up some dried up elderberries for her mother to use for ink. “I’ve divided them all into ten groups, as you can see, both male and female.”
Ársa took the parchment from the queen and unrolled the small scroll. He read over the names on the list. Of course, Erish had put her name in first place. He didn’t recognize any of the other names in her group. He found the name he sought listed in the last group. He looked up at the queen questioningly. “I see you’ve placed Adamen in another group from you,” he said politely.
Queen Erish smiled. “Yes, because she needs to be in another grouping,” she said. “I have decided that she shall go forward and rule her own colony. They will need a queen to help them survive as long as possible.”
“Why wouldn’t you want her in your colony?”
Erish bristled at his questioning of her decision. How dare he buck against my authority? “She is my heir, and there is no one better to assume command of another group, Ársa,” she said.
“She’s your heir? You mean she’s your daughter?” Ársa asked, perplexed. They look nothing alike.
“That’s correct,” she said with a nod of her head.
“That seems all the more reason to bring her with you,” Ársa protested.
Erish lifted her chin defiantly. “The Lilitu are mine to rule, Ársa,” she said with a haughty tone. “I and I alone will decide who goes with whom.”
“I don’t mean to usurp your authority over your own people, but I would think you’d want to bring Adamen with you. I think those who travel with me will have the best chance to survive. You’ll be sealing your daughter’s fate, depending on which group she travels with. I’m not sure other groups will give as much attention and aid to the Fae as we will, Erish. Adamen’s best chance is with us.”
Erish looked at him levelly. “Just as I am sealing others’ fate, Ársa, I have to show them that I am not merely out to save myself. And besides, I figured we’d need something more than mere beauty when we start over again. I don’t need decorations in my group.”
“Mere beauty?” Ársa questioned. “I doubt that she’s just beautiful; there must be something more to her than merely her looks.” He knew how clever Adamen was, for he had come back several times during the last two weeks and had watched her as she went on her patrols at night. He had seen her when she went inside the farmhouse and found the parchment and dried up pens that Erish used to make this list. He had seen her picking the dried-onthe-vine elderberries, which she later would reconstitute into ink for her mother. He knew she was resourceful and high-spirited. She was exactly what the Lilitu needed going forward.
“That’s my decision, Ársa, and I don’t intend to negotiate.”
That remark pissed Ársa off. “What were your criteria for picking those who travel with you, since beauty wasn’t a factor?” he asked sharply.
“I felt I had to be selective since our numbers have dwindled sharply since the sun abandoned us.”
“I’m sure you can arrange them in a way so that you’d s
till be able to travel with your daughter while giving all the other groups a fair chance,” Ársa said. He would make certain Adamen was aboard his ship if he had to slip her SSP container in there himself. Once they were shrunk, no one would be the wiser until it was too late, he reasoned.
“Why do you want her to come along so badly?” Erish asked suspiciously.
“Starting over in a new world will be quite difficult. I want all the best people for my mission, and I think she’s resourceful.”
Erish stared at him for a long time before she spoke again. She liked the fact that he could be silent waiting for her to speak next without shifting and fidgeting or growing uncomfortable under her gaze. He’s a force to be reckoned with, she thought, and it’s better to have him on my side than not. “I have a request of you, in that case, Ársa,” she said at last.
“What is it?” he asked.
“I’ll switch her name with another’s and put her in with my group, if you offer up a deity for us, one of your crew who can act as our protector once we arrive. Since you are all gods, able to start a new world like this, the least you can do is give us our own deity, someone we can call on for aid and assistance.”
Ársa looked at her for a long time, as she had done with him. She also didn’t flinch, but sat gazing at him calmly, her eyes never wavering. At last, he said, “I’ll assign someone to the task after we arrive, once the world is functioning and after people have settled down, and things are established.”
Erish nodded.
Ársa continued, “That could take a good number of years, however, so don’t be too impatient. I give you my word it will be done.”
“I don’t know you, Ársa, so I don’t know how good your word is, but if you’ll add that as an addendum to the list, I’ll believe in you. I’m willing to give you time after we arrive for you to make the assignment.”
“If I give you my word,” Ársa said, “it is a promise from me, and I don’t take them lightly.” He unrolled the scroll once again and pulled a pen from an inside pocket of his dusty coat. “May I?” he asked indicating a chair beside a small table.”
“Of course,” she nodded.