Machinations
“Your lordship, it is with great pleasure that I welcome you into our home. I am your humble servant so please do not hesitate to make any requests of me that you might have. You must be tired. Allow me to see you to your chambers.”
Watching his father suck up to a visiting human lord made Alaster Gwilimen want to vomit. He had stood and bowed before Lord Detraf of the Seven Cities, like the rest of his family, but now he had returned to lounging on the sofa in the sitting room. He was doing his best to ignore the rather imposing human without being so rude as to warrant a reprimand from his father, Aster. His mother, Amelia, sat primly in the chair next to him, but she also seemed to avoid looking at their guest.
“Aster, your hospitality is greatly appreciated,” spoke Lord Detraf. “I couldn't impose on you further.”
Trepidation crept up Alaster's spine as he realized that he could feel the human's eyes on him. He looked up to find Lord Detraf staring at him. Shifting in his seat uncomfortably, Alaster sat up a little straighter and stared back at the man.
“Perhaps your son could show me to my chambers instead?” Lord Detraf turned his gaze back to Aster as he made this request. “I haven't seen the lad since he was a small child.”
Even Aster seemed perturbed by this request, but he'd impressed on Alaster and Amelia the importance of allowing Lord Detraf's every whim that morning before the man arrived at their residence. Aster looked at Alaster and gave a sharp nod, indicating that Alaster was to do as Lord Detraf had asked.
Indignation burned in Alaster as he rose from his seat. The last thing he wanted was to show Lord Detraf to his chambers, which were the guest chambers at any rate and the lord had stayed here before, so he should know where those were located. At any rate, a servant would have more than sufficed if Detraf really couldn't be expected to find his own way to the room where he would be sleeping.
“Alaster, see that Lord Detraf is comfortable in his rooms for the evening,” Aster instructed, giving his son a warning look. As Alaster walked past him, the older fairy hissed in his ear. “Behave, boy.”
Rolling his eyes, Alaster didn't spare his father a backwards glance.
“Right this way, your lordship,” Alaster drawled to their guest.
Alaster was not at all used to being tasked with such a menial chore. He'd been shocked to hear his father offer to do it himself, as normally all guests were seen to by the servants. It was beneath fairies of their class to treat another person as a superior and Alaster, despite his father's warnings, was not inclined to humor the visiting lord very much.
He hardly remembered Lord Detraf from the man's last stay at his home, for he'd been quite small at the time. He did not remember the man having any special affinity for him then, and so he did not understand Detraf's request to be guided through the Gwilimen estate by him. Nonetheless, he obliged. If there was one thing more inconvenient than being treated like a servant, it was incurring Aster's anger.
“You're the spitting image of your father, young man,” spoke Lord Detraf as he followed Alaster through the house to the guest chambers. “It's been quite a while since my last visit. Although, I remember that you had a sister, yes? She wasn't spoken of by your family and lived with the servants, as I recall.”
Schooling a flinch at the mention of Ana, his twin, Alaster pursed his lips together. Ana still was not spoken of by the family. She'd been cast out. Alaster didn't like to think about it, though he knew that his sister could not have been allowed to stay with the family. Twins were a bad omen. With a twin acknowledged by the family, Alaster would have been seen as unworthy to be Aster Gwilimen's heir. Besides, Ana was a witch. Aster had always said so.
“I suppose she has passed away?” Lord Detraf asked at length.
“She was sent away from the city,” Alaster muttered, because he wasn't sure if it was wise to refuse to speak with Detraf. Talking about Ana aloud broke a lot of taboos, however. As a child, he'd been punished severely for it.
“You don't seem happy about that,” Detraf remarked. “Do you disagree with her exile?”
“Such things are not to be spoken of,” Alaster replied. The man was grating his nerves. Did humans not care for fairy tradition? “I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to discuss the matter.”
Lord Detraf chuckled, a dark sound that didn't settle Alaster's nerves at all. “You take after your father in more than just looks, I see.”
It was true that Alaster did resemble his father, though he did his best to make this less apparent. For instance, his father wore his black hair long and tied back, while Alaster preferred to keep his own quite short. That habit had been born when, as a child, he'd been mistaken for his sister one too many times. Cutting his hair had solved that problem, though his hair was unruly at the best of times and stuck up on his head now in wayward spikes. Aster often claimed that it was unbecoming, which only encouraged Alaster to keep it this length.
“I am my father's son,” he said, wishing the man would stop talking to him.
“You've been groomed to be his successor,” said Lord Detraf. “You know, when you were born, your father considered casting you out alongside your sister. Fairies are so superstitious of such things. I argued against such a rash decision when he consulted me on the matter. After all, a male heir is a precious commodity for a man of your father's status.”
Alaster's skin crawled as the man spoke. Lord Detraf's voice was oily, the sort of voice that did not immediately garner trust. If he thought he was telling Alaster something he didn't know, the man was very wrong. Aster had never made it any secret that he disliked his son, though Alaster had been allowed to enjoy a far more privileged lifestyle than his sister.
“Here we are, your chambers,” Alaster said, relieved when they reached the door to the guest chambers. “I'll take leave of you here, your lordship.”
He turned to go but the human reached out and grasped his arm. Alaster froze, resisting the urge to jerk his arm away and shout expletives at Detraf. He glared up at the tall lord but didn't dare speak his displeasure. It wasn't that he was afraid of Detraf. Alaster wasn't afraid of anyone, really, with the exception of Aster. Whatever his father's opinion of him, the rest of Vana Vale regarded Alaster as a person of great importance.
“Stay and speak with me for a while longer.” Lord Detraf's brown eyes stared into Alaster's own, set in a quite frightening face. The human wasn't going to win any beauty contests with that hooked nose and his eyebrows that looked like perhaps they were really some small animals that had been glued to his face.
“Surely you are too tired for company, my lord,” Alaster said. Detraf's grip on his arm was just a little too tight.
“A few moments only,” Detraf insisted. “Come now, have a drink with me. I've brought a fine bottle from home with me that I need someone to share with. Your father, of course, does not drink.”
Neither did Alaster, of course. Fairies only ever drank small amounts of finely brewed wine with evening meals. Drinking was for the less cultured. However, Alaster was hesitant to refuse the man outright. For whatever reason, Aster served Lord Detraf and expected his household to follow suit.
“There now.” Detraf released his hold on Alaster and took a step back from him. “The evening is still young. We have time for a little conversation.”
“I'll thank you not to lay your hands on me again,” Alaster sneered, his indignation making him braver. No one but his parents was permitted such a familiarity. It wasn't proper. Despite this, however, he acquiesced when Detraf drew open the door to the guest chambers and motioned for him to step inside.
It was considered bad manners to enter another person's sleeping quarters and Alaster was uncomfortable as soon as he stepped foot in the main room. Fairy sleeping chambers consisted of three separate rooms, all connected to one another. The first was the main room, which was set up much like the household's sitting room, with comfortable chairs and a small table. Past that was the bedroom, and adjoining the bedroom was always a powder room to clean and dress in.
“Have a seat,” said Detraf, gesturing to one of the two armchairs in the room.
He did not seem offended by Alaster's earlier assertion. Withdrawing a flask from his cloak, the human set about pouring a honey brown liquid into the two drinking glasses that had been left on the table by the servants, polished, shining crystal.
Reluctantly, Alaster took a seat and reached for one glass. It unnerved him when Detraf did not sit down as well, instead moving about the room with his glass in hand. Alaster politely looked away when Detraf started to remove his cloak to hang it on a hook beside the door. He sniffed at the contents of his glass and scowled at the sharp, bitter scent before placing the glass back on the table.
“What would you like to speak with me about, my lord?” he asked, fighting to keep his tone neutral.
Detraf turned to look at him and took a sip of his drink before he replied.
“You're a smart man, Alaster. Your father fails to recognize your potential.”
“It's impolite to speak so forwardly of a man's father,” Alaster replied. He had little love for Aster but his family's honor was not to be impugned by anyone.
“Let us do away with such niceties and speak candidly with one another,” Lord Detraf replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. “You and I both know he is a fool blinded by superstition.”
Alaster did not answer but he could not help wondering at where the man was going with this. Did he not fear that Alaster would report his impertinence to Aster once he'd left this room? If it had been anyone else speaking to him like this, Alaster would have personally seen to their being flogged for it.
“He is blind,” Detraf repeated, finally taking the seat opposite of Alaster. “You have always been unique and he fears your talent instead of celebrating it.”
“What talent might you be speaking of?” Alaster inquired with an amused smirk. Everyone knew he was a slacker with little inclination for the study of law, much to his father's chagrin. Aster made him do paperwork for the Acquisition, for lack of another job Alaster was more suited to.
Detraf's gaze caught his own and held it. “Do you ever hear voices, Alaster?”
The fairy's body tensed and his eyes widened. It was not possible for Detraf to know of the voices he'd heard in his head as a child, as he'd never spoken of them to another person. They'd gone away as he grew older, at any rate, and he'd dismissed them as childhood fantasies.
“I don't know what you might be referring to,” he said coldly. He looked longingly toward the door.
“I think you do,” said Lord Detraf. “It has long been my intention to take you as my apprentice. We share the same gift, you and I. Like your father, I desire to train someone to follow in my footsteps. Your father has already agreed, of course. It's time, I think, for you to accompany me to by own lands, where I can teach you to master your talent.”
Though he still had no idea what his “talent” might be, Alaster knew for certain that he did not want to be this man's apprentice, and neither did he want to leave Vana Vale. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to remain seated, but his instincts were telling him to escape.
“I'm afraid you're mistaken, my lord. I'm possessed of no special talent, whatever you might believe.”
“You haven't touched your drink,” mused Detraf. “Does alcohol not appeal to you? Have a taste, at least.”
If Alaster had felt any curiosity about the drink before, that curiosity was now doused. Drinking something offered to him by Detraf seemed a bad idea, for reasons he could not quite pinpoint. The man gave him the creeps, to put it mildly.
“I'd rather not,” he replied.
Detraf's eyes traveled up and down his form and Alaster felt offended by the gaze, as though the man had caught sight of him in a state of undress.
“Your eyes are quite strikingly blue,” said Detraf. “Has anyone ever told you that?”
“I should leave,” said Alaster, his heart beating faster in his chest. He started to rise from his chair.
This time, Detraf made no move to stop him. He waited until Alaster had crossed the room to the door before he spoke again, staying Alaster's hand on the latch.
“You'd be happier with me, pet. At the very least, you'd be out from under Aster's thumb. Tell me you don't fantasize of a life free from his influence. I can offer that to you. If you were my apprentice, your father could never lay a hand on you again.”
Alaster flushed and jerked the door open.
“I'd rather gouge my eyes out with a rusty spoon,” he said firmly as he left, shutting the door harder than was strictly necessary as he escaped the lord's disturbing attention.
Where did the man get the nerve to speak so brazenly about such things, he wondered? He stormed to his own chambers, which were, blessedly, on the other side of the house. Detraf ignored fairy customs as though they were of no significance to him. Everything about their interaction had been greatly distressing and Alaster now wished to retire to his rooms for the evening, where he could barricade the door.
And what was that nonsense about his father agreeing to him being Detraf's apprentice? It didn't sound like the sort of thing Aster would be happy about. Whatever his opinion on Alaster, he still needed an heir. He'd even arranged a marriage for Alaster already, to Rene Twill. Rene was beautiful but brainless and Alaster found her tiresome, but he far preferred her companionship to whatever Lord Detraf wanted with him.
It had been a long time since he'd thought about hearing voices. It had only ever happened when he was in the presence of his twin, and he'd started distancing himself from Ana when he'd made the connection, fearful that she'd placed some kind of curse on him. Everyone called her a witch, after all. And the distance from her had quieted the voices.
Alaster had never spoken of this to another person. Even when he'd feared that his sister had cursed him, he hadn't dared accuse her of it because he'd known that his father would have no mercy on her. Instead, he'd kept quiet and when Ana was old enough to survive on her own, she'd been sent away.
How did Lord Detraf know to ask him such a question?
Upon reaching his chambers, he locked his door from the inside.
–
In the bright light of the morning, Lord Detraf accompanied Aster Gwilimen on a brisk walk through the city. It had been many years passed since the fairies of Vana Vale had pledged themselves to Detraf's service, and Aster had been key in that achievement. It had been easy enough to convince the fairy to join him. Aster was a Gwilimen, a powerful name, to be sure, but also one that carried a stain with it. He was a cutthroat, determined man who defended his family's honor, but even he was ashamed of his relation to the original traitors of Vana Vale.
Of course, the family connection was what drew Detraf to the Gwilimen family. He suspected that the next fairy possessed of Trynace Gwilimen's unique abilities would come from the bloodline of her twin brother, Alyxander.
“You still wish to take my son as your apprentice?” Aster questioned. He wasn't happy about it but had long since agreed to the arrangement, with Lord Detraf's promise that Alaster would spend as much time in Vana Vale as he did in Detraf's stronghold. After all, Alaster was his heir. If the Gwilimen name was to remain a respected one, Alaster would one day need to take over Aster's position in the Acquisition.
Detraf hummed in agreement, thinking back on the evening before and his conversation with the younger Gwilimen. Alaster's thoughts had confirmed his suspicions that the fairy was possessed of psychic talent. This had been his first conversation with Alaster since the fairy was a small child. Still, he'd been hoping that Alaster's talents might be more developed by now.
“One day, for certain,” Detraf said. “He is not ready yet. I trust you will prepare him for this eventuality. He was quite surprised when I mentioned it to him last night. You hadn't told him of our arrangement yet.”
“It seemed unnecessary when he was younger. Of course I will rectify this. My apologies if he in any way offended you yesterday. He is... headstrong.”
A chuckle escaped Detraf at the description of the young fairy. His being headstrong was one of the things Detraf liked about Alaster, and about fairies in general. They were a stubborn, haughty race that he had enjoyed breaking to harness. Their ethereal beauty belied their vicious, cruel natures. Their collective magic had always intrigued him as well, though his studies had given him to understand that the truly gifted among them had no need of it. Trynace Gwilimen's life had been a short one but her power had been unparalleled.
“Perish the thought,” he replied to Aster. “He was a perfect gentleman.”
“You still believe he is possessed of Trynace's curse?” Aster questioned, his face losing its color as he spoke of what he considered his family's greatest shame.
“I am certain of it,” said Detraf, not bothering to correct Aster about the nature of Trynace's gift. The fairies were foolish to fear the gift, as Detraf knew very well, but there was no convincing them of the error of their ways. Besides, if Aster didn't fear his son's gift, he would not be so willing to hand him over. “There is no point in taking him with me until his gift awakens fully. Until then, there is nothing I can teach him.”
Aster shuddered. Despite his loyalty to Detraf, the lord knew that his underling also feared Detraf's own psychic abilities. Detraf was self-taught, rather than having been born with the ability like Alaster. It had taken years of hard work to fully master his abilities. He looked forward to working with a mind possessed of such raw talent as Alaster's was.
Fairies were so amusing. They were beautiful and tragic. Detraf liked to watch them burn out. And Alaster was a particularly beautiful and tragic creature, one that Detraf would enjoy bending to his will. The young fairy couldn't know how important he was to Detraf's plans for the realm. Naturally, Detraf had no intention of explaining it to him any time soon.
“There is another matter I'd like to discuss with you,” Detraf said. As he spoke, he withdrew something from his pocket. It was a vibrant red crystal in a gold setting, strung on a light but sturdy gold chain. He held the item out for Aster to see. “This is an item of great magic. I need somewhere to store it for safekeeping and I thought perhaps the library here might be a logical choice.”
“Of course,” said Aster, nodding. “We can arrange to hide it in the library.”
“Excellent. I also wondered if you've ever seen another like it.” Detraf allowed Aster to take the crystal from him and turn it over in his hands. “There are five more, of different colors, that I would like to acquire.”
Aster handed the crystal back to Detraf and shook his head. “I've never seen anything like it, my lord.”
“No matter.” Detraf had not expected another answer. He'd hoped to find the crystal's opposite here, but years of searching had never turned up the Sentinel, gifted to Alyxander Gwilimen by the sun god Sorin, or so the old tales went. He put the red crystal, Cerebrum, back in his pocket. Once, it had belonged to Trynace Gwilimen, given to her by Sorin's sister, the moon goddess Chaelsa.
In truth, Detraf had little use for the gods. They had not shown themselves in the realm for a great many years, and their power was not the power he lusted for. No, the power he sought to harness was stronger, a dark force that pulsed in the depths of the earth, long kept barely restrained by the gods' paltry magic. Detraf would free that force, a force that had lurked in his own soul since he'd first discovered it as a younger man.
It was his destiny to release the Darkness, as he privately referred to the force which had no written name that he had found. He was certain of this and had devoted his life to it. With the Darkness, he felt nothing would be beyond his grasp. Immortalized by its energy, he would rule the realm as it had never been ruled before, uniting every race under his dream, to serve his vision.
Nonetheless, that was still a ways off. He had important business to see to in the meantime, not the least of which would be acquiring the headstrong Alaster Gwilimen as his apprentice when the boy's powers at last manifested. And there were other crystals he'd yet to find. Void interested him in particular, the crystal that had the deepest connection to the Darkness. He'd tried to acquire that one in the past, but the bitch who'd protected it had hidden it from him before her death.
He believed that Void held the secret to fully freeing the Darkness from the cage Terra had built for it. The one who could wield it had been born, he thought. It was almost time for all of those chosen by the gods to reclaim their birthrights. Detraf planned to recruit as many of them as he could before they were convinced to side with the gods to seal the Darkness away once more.
~FIN
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