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My twin leads the unrelenting war against the immortal eldritch. Occasionally, I like to serve in his ranks for a time. It’s far less tedious than my actual occupation: keeping our world in one piece while we all await its doom.
Or salvation.
My money’s on doom, but one never knows.
“I am needed elsewhere,” I say regretfully.
At least according to Crow. Though the bothersome beast might have recalled me simply because it’s bored out of its wits and wants me to provide entertainment. If so, I shall pluck its wings and fashion myself a scarf from them.
Despite the distance between us, Crow’s grumbles are crystal clear in my mind.
That wasone time, centuries past. You’re truly needed.
I suspect he’s right. Besides, I’ve been away for over a hundred years—about a tenth of my life. I sadly can’t afford to extend the vacation.
My familiar reached my body, gathering dust far below the mountains of my land, to share his memories with me and urge me to return.
Our world was ruled by the iron fist of the seelie court, and there’s little doubt in my mind that letting them continue their quest for order will succeed where an army of eldritch have so far failed.
Theywilldestroy us.
Rather than sharing that with my brother, I opt to taunt him. “Since she’s out of the way, I trust you can manage in my absence.”
“However will I survive,” he retorts evenly. “It’s not like I’ve led the hunt alone forfive hundred years.”
He has, and he’s right. I’m not truly needed.
Calreth can keep the eldritch on a leash. The problem is that they’ll never cease their onslaught, forever targeting our world to reach what lies at its heart.
“Shall I give my best to your wife when I see her?” I ask lightly.
The torrent of red mist blowing through my immaterial essence would have broken my nose twice if I’d been in my own body.
“Ex-wife,” my twin snaps, before disappearing without another word.
We’re not much for goodbyes.
I leave in turn, my essence vanishing from the darkness, and reappearing at the edge of my domain.
* * *
When I reach my halls, I am still mostly a thing of shadow, thinking in deeds rather than words, and invisible to the eyes of my court. I’m wearing my body again, but it doesn’t quite know how toappear. I’ve been too long away, running with Calreth’s hunt instead of playing the part of a civilized thing.
Between one breath and the next, my footsteps are visible on the polished stone floor, covered in dark, vile ooze: the ichor of the eldritch, which has clung to my soul like ink.
A pooka boy is first to notice; his mouth gapes and the beast in me catches the stench of fear. The thing inside me likes it.
Ilike it.
It’s been a while since I’ve found anything to like, other than bothering my twin.Now I remember fear is a delicious treat.
In all honesty, I enjoy leaving my body behind. After over a thousand years, I’m growing tired, and time seems to pass differently when I’m nothing but shadow. But now I’m wholly material again.Restricted. The disguise of flesh is uncomfortable, but to preside over the unseelie courts, I must wear it.
My return couldn’t be delayed; I feel it now that I’m here. Crow was right in thinking that the world is yet again at a tipping point, about to descend in chaos.
The lords of the unseelie lands all shout, calling for blood, refusing to spend another century under seelie boots.
There’s a stark difference between our reigns and theirs: they wish to control everyone when they’re in charge, while we leave everyone alone.
