The full moon hung heavy and massive in the black sky overhead, looking like a flashlight shining through an obsidian sheet, not a trace of stars visible in the infinite skies. The bright reflection in the lake below rippled and shimmered as the figure bathing within moved lazily, bare limbs breaking the surface of the water, orange sparkles breaking free and floating into the air like a spectacular display of fireflies.
The Raven Knight let out a bitter growl, watching as his dark feathers floated on the surface of this sacred lake, hidden away at the edge of the Fae lands, the forests and halls of the Seelie Court distant, but needling at his heart and consciousness like a barbed thorn, the injury minor but unable to be forgotten. Below the silver waters of the lake were a dozen trees, somehow surviving, no, even thriving despite being continuously submerged. Their leaves were giving off the orange balls of light, concentrating the already dense ether in the surroundings, dyeing it with the orange hue of water energies.
“Master Raven, are you well? Your expression is pained.” A melodious voice asked, and he turned to see a beautiful young Fae woman, a water nymph, draped in blue and orange cloth that covered little, her silvery hair flowing down into the water. “I shall encourage the water essence to soothe your wounds, please be patient.” With that the gorgeous nymph gestured, and her hair wrapped around him gently, across his back, upper torso and lower face, where the remains of the Woe Backlash, the burned scars, were slowly fading.
One would think that being so tightly bound over such wounds would be naught but pain, yet… her hair drew the water essence from the surroundings and guided it to his wounds, speeding the recovery, fighting against the lingering taints of the Woe and the dark energy that it was bound to. Letting out a sigh of satisfaction despite himself, he quickly felt anger. This… Fae creature… may be my ally now, but she reminds me of… her, and my detestable aunt. If she still lives, I would love to have her flayed alive and kept that way for aeons, to punish her betrayal… by the fates, of course she still lives. That dark bitch is a mighty sorceress, and knows many Dark Fae in the Unseelie Court, who would be only too happy to extend her life for… favours. Like all Fae, they do love beauty…
Feeling melancholy and bitter hatred in equal measure his gaze went to the small island at the centre of the lake, ringed by Rhyming Trees of different elements, their energy shimmering like a mirage, or perhaps the northern lights of the Material. Behind the trees he knew lay a small mausoleum, where his foolish father and even more foolish mother lay entombed, their mortal remains brought to the lands of Fae by his aunt for purposes less than charitable. Hence why I am this bastard half-Fae form…
Neither fully mortal or fully Fae, ever bound to stay in twilight, orphaned and cursed. Grinding his teeth under the replacement raven-mask he wore, he clenched his fist. And worse, the Dark Rhyming Tree I stole from the Unseelie at great cost, it is taken from me by that Mortal fool and his by-blow whore of a half-Fae. Finding a place to plant the tree where it could draw in the essence it needs to survive, that was not already monopolised by someone or something stronger than I, was a great labour, and the fact that I could kill the whore daughter of that conniving weasel Shaetanao was a pleasing coincidence. Yet now… damn, all my plans are set back once more…
As he clenched his fists, flaring pain through his still-healing body the nymph spoke in concern. “Be at ease, Master Raven. I shall sing a song to soothe you, if it pleases you? Think not of the injuries you suffered using vile arts, the Lake Of Shed Tears heals all hurts in time.”
With that she retrieved a silver harp and began to play, a haunting, melancholy tune that brought back sour memories. Yet as she played, his physical pain numbed, the orange energies of water responding, slowly accelerating the healing.
I was too arrogant. Though I had few choices in the lower reaches of the Boundary. Unlike here, in the backwater eddies of the Astral I can command little of my sorceries. But those Unseelie Arts I learned during my time in Pandemonium, they were still usable, due to the balance of Weal and Woe…
Listening to the mournful song he let his head sink back into the water. Of course, most of his reason for using Unseelie Arts to kill them was out of black humour and irony, to dismay the weasel bitch and her family. And if when her death was discovered the Unseelie were blamed and a new conflict sparked, well… so much the better. In the chaos I could steal another Rhyming Tree… his gaze went to the far shore, where a new feature had appeared over the past days. A series of great spiderwebs had been strung across the forest, forming a white dome, impenetrable and full of skittering shadows. Seeing the direction of his gaze, the Nymph spoke again.
“Are you thinking of your companion, Master Raven? She was indeed full of rage against you, and still seethes with anger, yet in time she will understand the choice you made.”
The Jorogumo had indeed been wroth. Still… I picked her up on a whim after she was driven out by the Mortal boy and his weasel-bitch. I have no great hatred for the spirits of that foreign land, not like the Fae, though I have no great love for them either. Still, she was useful for my ambush…
Besides, if he had not taken her with him using the Third Weal and Woe, then she surely would have died to them, her life in vain. Still, when the Woe had to be paid lest he suffer a further backlash… Few have called me kind, and for good reason. I do what is necessary for my goals…
She had been wracked with terrible pain, her already battered body gouting blood and ichor everywhere, her joints cracking. Still, she had survived, the healing of the lake enough to restore her, and spiders and their mystical equivalents did heal very quickly. It was quite envious. Afterwards though she had set up her own little arachnid kingdom in a corner of his demesne. It is not a problem for now, but should she draw unwanted attention my way…
The Raven Knight knew he was skilled and strong in his domain, but compared to the full might of the Seelie or Unseelie, as well as some of the sole wanderers that dwelt within the lands of the Fae… No, I survive by keeping hidden where possible, and choosing my allies carefully. When I am healed, there will have to be a reckoning, and I shall show her why I am the only one fitting to be a master here…
As the song ceased, the last sad notes fading away into the stillness of night, the nymph withdrew her hair, seeing the Raven Knight breathing more naturally, lost in thought. Silently she retreated, leaving him alone, eyes reflecting the moon.
I was so close… if I could have grown the tree enough to be able to survive here, I could have brought it back and begun the ritual. But now, all that effort is wasted. His heart told him that revenge on those who had thwarted him was necessary, yet his head spoke wisdom, saying that revenge could wait until after the plan was back on track.
The Unseelie will not welcome me, not after I betrayed them to steal their Arts and Tree. The Seelie are also unforgiving, and have few if any Dark Rhyming Trees… The surest way to victory was to seize back the Tree in the Boundary, but over time that would likely prove more challenging, as the Mortal was seemingly blessed by the Gods and Goddesses of Fortune themselves, lucky breaks falling into his hands one after another…
I could search the Boundary for naturally-occurring Rhyming Trees of the Dark Element. There surely must be some… yet again, just as areas of Dark Elemental Energies are often occupied, any such Trees will be guarded and exploited. Is my only option to attack those fools again after all…?
His gaze straying back to the island, where his mother and father lay in their cold tombs, unmourned and slandered by the cold lies of history, he spat, black bile staining the pure water of the lake before dispersing. Nothing will stand in the way of the goal I have laboured for these many long years… If it was an attack that was required, he would make it. Yet failing again was not to be countenanced. Allies, I will need allies. Perhaps… yes… Under the mask he smiled for the first time in days. Perhaps there was a way to succeed, and get revenge on the Mortal brat and that half-Fae bitch at the same time…
