Chapter 5
Sylvian
My heart beats wildly, each thud echoing in the stillness of the woods.
I’d fully expected to find yet another dead body at the altar.
Not a living human with a dagger gifted from the goddess Varua herself.
I couldn’t believe my luck. We’ve finally found her!
The woman of prophecy! The one Varua said we had to find!
I want to shout into the trees, to let the world know about the momentous occasion unfolding right here, right now.
Yet beneath my excitement, there’s a flicker of disbelief. A whisper that this can’t actually be happening. I’d given up hope. We all had. I keep thinking that at any moment I’m going to wake up, devastated that none of this was real.
Yet, this feels real. Everything about this. It’s more logical that I’ve really found her than that I’ve completely lost my mind. Isn’t it?
Something in my chest feels lighter, almost buoyant.
Every single day it’s pained me to look at my people and fail them, over and over again.
They’ve suffered so much, and for so long I’ve felt powerless to help.
But today, when I return, I won’t be coming back empty-handed.
The thought of finally bringing hope back to my court fills me with something approaching pure joy.
I will be the fae king to return the chosen one to my people. To all the fae.
Only... she’s squirming. And seems to be…
angry? Only, that can’t be. I can’t fathom why she’d be upset.
I’ve done her a favor, haven’t I? I’ve plucked her out of her miserable human life and brought her to the fae realm.
She’s in the company of the King of the Earth Fae.
She has an opportunity that any human should give thanks to Varua for. Doesn’t she understand that?
Stealing a glance over my shoulder at the small human, I feel her struggle against me. She kicks and flails like a wild creature. A mix of confusion and irritation swells within me. Is her brain broken? Did she take one too many blows to the head? Or are all humans this dumb?
I mean, I’ve done her a favor. She has to see that.
Still, she has a rather large and painful-looking bruise on her face, and she’s a tiny thing, with marks on her wrists and ankles from the chains. Maybe this is more than her tiny, human brain can handle.
I sigh, shifting her a bit higher on my back, feeling her fingers claw at my shoulders, digging into my skin with surprising ferocity. It’s confusing. Is she perhaps unclear about how much better I’ve made her life by taking her with me? Perhaps it is some sort of brain damage.
“Would you stop?” I ask, my tone more exasperated than gentle as I try to make sense of her actions. “You’re making it harder for me to carry you.”
She only kicks more in response, her voice trembling as she shoots back, “Release me. At once!” It’s clear she’s trying to reach the dagger in the bag on her back, but I know it’s out of her reach.
Still, it’s amusing that she might have tried to stab me. This little creature is strange.
I can’t help but feel a flicker of amusement at her defiance, though it’s wrapped tightly in ire. The human sounds like a toddler throwing a tantrum, and I can’t help but feel my patience waning. I stop walking, the weight of her struggles growing more irritating by the second.
This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. She should be excited. She should be happy. I need to see what’s wrong with this human. I take a deep breath and carefully lift her off my back, then set her on the ground in front of me, letting her stand on her own two feet.
A strange feeling washes over me as I study her. It’s the same feeling I had when I first saw her chained at the altar, still alive, the goddess’s dagger left near her. It was the jarring realization that this little human was about to change our lives forever.
This human… she’s a cute little thing. Not remarkably beautiful like all fae women, but interesting to look at.
She has wide blue eyes, darker than any fae eyes, a small nose, and full lips that curve into a pout of displeasure.
Her cheeks are slightly rounded, which gives her a young, innocent look.
Her hair is brown, but not glamoured to shimmer and shine like the fae women do, and it’s a color no fae woman would choose.
She’s remarkably tiny too, like the gods got halfway through building her and then just tossed her into being.
I take a step closer to her, tempted to poke her, just to see what she’d do, my curiosity getting the better of me.
Then she inches closer, and her leg snaps out, her knee striking me right in my staff of life. Pain flashes through me, a searing jolt that brings my focus into sharp clarity as I collapse to my knees, instinctively holding onto my manhood, as if my grasp could undo the damage she’s just inflicted.
As if my reaction were an invitation, she turns and starts sprinting away, deeper into fae lands. She’s probably too panicked to even realize she’s going the wrong way.
Groaning, I climb to my feet and take off after her, my royal seed pouches aching with every step, the instinct to protect her overshadowing the pain.
I see her up ahead, racing toward a drop-off I know all too well.
Straight through the bushes is a deep, cavernous slice in the earth that leads to a raging river.
The tiny human will be killed instantly on impact.
“Stop!” I shout after her, fear clawing at my throat. “You’re going to die!” My voice echoes through the trees, but she ignores me, sprinting harder.
Reaching out my hand, I command the earth to respond to me out of instinct, but my request is only met with silence.
It’s a bitter reminder. My magic is ignoring me like it has done every time I've attempted to use it since the fae were cursed.
Gritting my teeth, I speed up, nearly reaching her as her tired legs slow.
She breaks through the bushes, and in one swift movement, I snap my hand out, connecting with fabric.
I skid to a halt when I hear her scream, a raw sound that echoes through the woods, then look through the bush to find her dangling over the chasm.
Panic rips through me as I grip the fabric of her shirt tightly in my hand and yank her back to safety.
She slams against my chest, the impact startling, and for a moment, I’m taken aback by the heat radiating from her body.
She turns and presses herself against me with a tiny whimper, her heart racing beneath my touch.
The top of her head barely reaches the center of my chest, and I can feel the rapid tempo of her breathing against me.
I’ve seen a fae woman who barely reached my shoulder and thought she was the tiniest woman in existence.
But this... this is different. It’s strange having the human against me.
Strange, and nice. There’s a warmth blossoming in my chest, an unexpected flicker of something I can’t quite name.
But then she pulls back and her eyes narrow into a glare. “Point me in the direction of the human lands, and I’ll be gone,” she tries to snap at me, but her voice betrays her terror.
I tilt my head, the corner of my mouth tugging upward despite the situation. “I don’t want you gone.”
She goes to kick me in the crotch again, but this time I’m ready. I smack her leg away, baffled as I stare at her. “What’s your problem? A horse kick to the head?”
There must be something wrong. The goddess wouldn’t send some addled human as our chosen one. Unless, of course, this is yet another chance for her to punish us for our mistake.
Her eyes burn with the hatred of a thousand suns. “What’s my problem? You kidnapped me!”
It’s hard for me to understand why she’s so upset.
Could this be a human thing? They find being chosen by handsome fae kings particularly distressing?
I know humans of the human realm are different from those raised to be our servants, but I never knew how.
To my people, humans are more like... tools to help us.
Not people. And yet, this human woman seems to have a lot of her own thoughts and feelings that aren’t aligned with helping me to live my best life.
Which is confusing. They’re here to serve us, aren’t they?
I blink at her, baffled. “I believe there has been some sort of misunderstanding. I, a fae king, am in need of your service. Now, would you like to walk, or be carried?” I try to infuse my tone with calm authority, hoping she’ll understand what an honor it is for her to be carried by a king.
Her mouth opens and closes like she’s trying to catch a fly, then she speaks, seeming nervous. “Honestly? I don’t really care to serve you. I just want to go home.”
Frowning, I stare. What human doesn’t care what a fae wants? Every part of my being rebels against her ridiculous words.
“Listen…” I hesitate, searching for the right words. “Wait, I didn’t catch your name.”
Her gaze snaps around me, as if searching for a way out, but she manages to spit out, “Alette.”
Alette. I hide my laughter behind my hand, the absurdity of it all momentarily lightening my mood. Humans have such strange names.
“Alette, I’m King Sylvian of the Earth Fae,” I say, trying to soothe her, because, well, I feel like this whole thing would be a lot easier if we were on the same page.
But instead of looking soothed, or even impressed to be in the presence of fae royalty, she just stares, so I press on.
“You’re needed by the fae. This is important.
It’s an honor. You are the only person who can help to fully restore our magic and allow us to access the elements once more. ”
Her brow furrows at my words, confusion and disbelief flashing across her delicate features. “Honored? Why would I be honored to help you restore your magic? It has nothing to do with me. Please, just send me home.”
What? “Little human, that’s impossible. You’re the chosen one. Don’t you understand what that means?”
“The chosen what?” she asks, her eyes wide, and a flicker of something, fear perhaps, crosses her face.
I take a deep breath, letting my patience carry me through the explanation.
“The chosen one. You see, Varua didn’t kill you like she did all the other human sacrifices for the last hundred years.
She also gave you a dagger blessed by the goddess herself.
You’re the chosen one. The person who will help us get our magic back.
” I smile at her, though it’s a bit strained.
She simply glances around again, continuing to look for her escape.
Perhaps I need to explain this better. “One hundred years ago, on the night of Beltaie, our people made a terrible mistake. We spilled blood during the celebration, broke the most sacred rule in the fae world, and in punishment, Varua took away our connection to the elements. The only way to restore them is with you, her chosen human. And now, Alette, you get to be part of bringing back the magic to the fae.”
She stares at me, unblinking, her face an unreadable mask. “So, I’m supposed to do what exactly?”
My smile falters a little. How is she not getting this?
Is it the brain thing again? Or am I not explaining this well?
“The goddess erected a massive labyrinth, filled with danger unlike anything, human and fae alike, have seen. You will accompany fae royalty into the labyrinth. You’re the key to everything.
You’ll help us unlock our connection to the elements again. You’re—”
“I don’t want to do that,” she rushes out, her voice firm, defiance shining in her wide eyes.
“But it’ll help the fae.” I stare at her dumbly.
“I don’t want to help the fae.”
I laugh, an involuntary reaction to the absurdity of it all, but her expression remains serious.
She doesn’t share in my humor, her frown deepening as though she’s staring at the embodiment of her worst nightmare.
“But,” I stretch my arms out, indicating my perfect form, “we’re like gods to you people.”
Her brow rises, skepticism etched across her features. “Uh, not really. You’re more like… the monsters who live under our beds, and I don’t want to spend any more time with those monsters than I have to. So, just indicate the way home, and I’ll leave… so you can find another chosen one.”
After nearly a hundred years waiting for her? I think not. “Listen—”
“No.” Then she turns and starts running.
I sigh deeply and begin to chase her. I easily reach her with my longer legs, and I scoop her up, tossing her over my shoulder once more.
“No!” she yells, her fists hammering into my back.
I ignore the thud of her punches, but it’s hard not to chuckle. The little human is not only foolish but also quite persistent. Perhaps someone will be able to explain this all to this dense creature in a better way than I did.
“Stop it!” she shouts, continuing to kick me. “I’m not going!”
I pat her ass lightly, a playful gesture meant to lighten the moment. “We’ll get along just fine, you’ll see. You’ll be our chosen one, and we’ll be your protectors.”
But even as I say it, a part of me dreads the task ahead. Dealing with a stubborn human is one thing. Dealing with the other fae kings is another.
This is going to be a long journey.