Fritz hoped he could recall enough and tread lightly around their social traps to, maybe not outmanoeuvre, but gain an advantage with which he could either escape with Bert or heal his friend from his curse. If you needed to break curses who better to seek counsel from than a Faerie? Fritz reflected. He also bemoaned the fact none of his Abilities would be of any use here.
Must it be a powerful noble to have a manor like this? Or maybe all Faeries had such dwellings? Whatever the case was, it was of utmost importance to be polite, reverent even, if he could manage it.
Fritz did so walking cautiously through the entrance hall, his boots thudding on the plush purple rug. He winced, he hoped he hadn’t already been rude by tracking dirt into the pristine room. Resolute, he ploughed on ahead dragging Bert behind him the whole while. He stopped at the entrance of the throne room, not willing to go in without express permission, again. ‘Approach’ did not mean ‘I will grant you an audience’ after all.
He hadn’t noticed those talons before, he supposed he wasn’t allowed to notice them before, Faeries were masters of illusions and enchantments after all. But now that he saw them he suspected those nails were razor sharp and would easily part his flesh from his bone. A small but very real threat that if he displeased her those black razor points would find his skin and rend him to pieces.
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
She stared again expectantly, Fritz stood confused for a moment before he concluded that the eyes counted as only one gift. I messed up, I should have split them up or something. Nonsense she would have thought you a miser if you split up one gift into two. It was the right move, Fritz argued with himself.
She didn’t make to take it and, in fact, looked unimpressed and maybe even insulted. Fritz''s thoughts raced, this was not the outcome he had expected. She seemed to like the story attached to the Quicksilver Swordfish’s eyes almost as much as the eyes themselves, maybe if I add the feats I accomplished with this fang, maybe it might change its worth to her?
Fritz bowed again, stalling for time to gather his scattered psyche and shake off the haze of craving that still spun his head. One particular notion stood out in his mind, help Bert, it commanded.
He did, somewhat, the trading of favours was a common thing in the gutters as well, with coin so hard to come by and even harder to keep. A debt in the gutter though might not be repaid, whereas a debt to a Faerie must be lest there be serious consequences, being cursed horribly being the least of the horrors that could be inflicted.
How much could I give? What will they ask of me? Will it even matter without Bert? Fritz resolved, he knew it was foolish to get embroiled with Faeries and knew he had another choice, to leave and find the way out. But it was a risk, a risk that was a gamble for Bert’s life, one Bert might make on his own if he had a choice but not one Fritz was willing to make for him.
The song continued, filling him with complex emotions he didn’t have the wherewithal to fully suppress, so he wept silently. He heard a new note, a surprising uplifting melody joined the Duskmoth’s song, a song, he realised, that was half a duet. The joyful refrain built and built until the song seemed to be only two conflicting chords opposing each other but then melded and struck such a beautiful harmony he was left reeling, stunned, falling.
They clung to each other tightly, like a day lit tree with a dark vine growing on its shadowed trunk. He could see the bright woman’s wings unfurl, two great bird wings with feathers of cascading yellow and orange. As they intertwined he could see their differences in stark relief. The glowing woman was muscular where the Duskmoth was slender, tall where she was short and life as the other was death. Beginning and End.
“You ask for help for your friend and not for yourself? And you bargained a favour to my darling Duskmoth?” She asked intrigued.