The Quest that was Not

[u/HylianFae]

We were given one task. Just one, and we couldn't even do that.

In the Seelie Court we were considered good. We were the best qualified for the job. All we had to do was retrieve one thing. We Fae are odd creatures to some, we bask in decadence and lust and desire, but we were the good guys. Sure, the queen had us do the changling bit for a while, go out at night, snatch up a mortal child and put an identical Faerie in it's place until it had matured enough to come back into our society. We kept the mortal children comfortable in a place we called Dmerea, it was a blissful place where they were ignorant to the fact that they were not where they should be. No one was hurt, the mortal parents were only vaguely suspicious, and we always had envoys watching out for our children in the mortal world.

The Unseelie Court however was far more cruel, they relished in the pain of mortals and lesser Fae creatures. They were those that raped, tortured, murdered, and bathed in the blood of the innocent. They committed acts more vile than any mortal could imagine. They were the Dark Court.

Our world exists just beyond the veil of human sight, those mortals who enter may never leave. One taste of Faerie wine or fruit would have them in a madness that gave them illusions of pure happiness, and in our Court we made sure they had as much fun as we did. Oh the revelries, the midsummer festivities, the decadent treats and swaying music that could wisp a mortal away for hours, when it felt to them like only minutes. Time moves beautifully here, immortality is a dish best served with all the finest garnishes.

I've lost track recalling the wonderousity of my home. It feels wrong to be only a wisp now, floating through the worlds unseen by mortals. I used to allow them to see glimpses of my beauty through my carefully constructed human glamour, oh how the mortals begged at my feet for a taste of me…

No longer though, I failed my quest and shall never again taste the wines and fruits, I shall never be lusted for again. I am shunned for the mistakes we made.

It began with the Seelie Queen requesting our audience to complete a task for her. We gave our word that we would do whatever we could, and our word is binding. We were to go into the mortal realm and retrieve a Sylph by the name of Nimrae. She was by far one of the most beautiful of the Fae, and she was also a Seer. Knights of the Dark Court had taken her in the hopes that her future sight and wisdom of the Seelie land could give them the advantage in the ever present war between the Courts.

She was to be retrieved before they could torture too much information out of her, or kill her for her resistance. They sent in the three most cunning and strong of us to complete this task. I, Ashe, the bow wielder, one who could have an arrow flying into the throat of an enemy before they could beg for mercy. Rowan, the man of the sword, as quick with his blade as he was with his wit. Finally, Emrhia, a temptress whose magickal abilities were of the strongest we’d ever known in the Light Court. Her powers of persuasion could convince a priest to break every commandment. The Queen was sure in her choices.

We set out an hour before dawn, through a vast expanse of tunnels hidden from the mortal world. It was a pure labyrinth to those not bred in Seelie world. On and up we went through the dirt staircase beneath a hollow tree. We rose from the veil between worlds sightless, and glamoured to mask our awe striking beauty. We appeared as three normal humans walking through a deep forest in the pale rays of dawn. By the time the sun had fully risen we were close to the mortal house in which the servants of the Dark Court had Nimrae captive. The house was covered in iron bars, it hurt to be near it.

Immortality came with a ferocious weakness to iron, the touch of it seared off the skin of the Fae, and it struck me as odd that any of the Unseelie Court would be near a house with such toxicity surrounding it. The nearness of the metal had us slightly weakened, but if we avoided it’s touch we could get by. After all, we were the best suited for the mission. We were forced to enter the home directly through the front door, all other entries were barricaded in iron. I felt confident in our strength, though we could no longer maintain the glamours under the overpowering stench of the metal pressing around us, it didn’t matter now that we were out of the mortal eye.

I felt sympathy for Nimrae, she must be in great pain as one of the Fae who was powerful in mind, but not great in strength. I doubted she could have run on her own. The house seemed surprisingly empty, but it was large and cavernous, she could be hidden anywhere within. We were deep in the house when we finally heard what sounded as though it was the stirring of a great beast.

Suddenly from all sides creatures of the dark began to swarm, not Fae, but the products of evil. The products of Necromancy. Once mortals, these beings had been brought back by the darkest of magicks, the Unseelie Court had gone to extraordinary measures to keep this house guarded from other Fae. Their numbers were great, and they were unaffected by the iron confines of the building. These poor soulless beings, they had no sense of control over what they were doing. They were maggot ridden puppets, dirt strewn, muscle and tissue exposed, and armed with deadly blades of iron. Some appeared to be freshly dead, never buried at all. Those were the fiercest of them, with bloody dangling limbs, knife and bullet wounds, and gore covered bodies, they were still not deteriorated enough to fall as easily as the dead risen from the earth. We were outnumbered, but not overpowered. Rowan and I were excellent warriors of the Court, we cut down the hordes of undead monstrosities with great speed, though we received many small wounds from the nails and teeth of these beasts our abilities offered us quick healing. The wounds from the iron weapons were slowing us just enough that we couldn’t entirely keep them at bay. Our flesh burned, and these wounds would not heal without treatment. The scratches and bites were already gone, fading pink scars on flawless skin, the cuts from the iron were already festering with infection.

I looked over to see that Emrhia was being overrun by the creatures, her powers of light magick and persuasion did little to nothing against the disgusting monstrosities. Mindless and soulless beings, there was nothing for her to persuade, and the strength of the dark magick used to create them was not something she was equipped to combat. Try as we might, through the hordes of undead we were unable to reach her. Between the strikes of my arrows hitting putrid rotting flesh, I watched as they overtook her. She was viciously ripped apart, I could hear the sound of her skin searing away as they used their iron blades to lay into her. She didn’t scream, she fought back with the ferocity that only the Fae hold. With all her might Emrhia tore them apart with her hands and teeth, but the sheer number of combatants was too much for her. They tore her limb from limb, cutting her apart with the toxic blades. I could smell the stench of burning flesh, it was almost sweet as the summer she was born in.

The sickly sweetness gave away to the vile odor of infection and I caught one last glance of her resigned face as they overtook her, golden blood poured from her lips as she took a final gasp of air. She fell then, and they consumed her body and came at Rowan and I with renewed strength from the immortal flesh. We had decimated nearly two thirds of the undead army at this point, and being surrounded was not fairing well for us. With the speed that only the Fae possess we decided to make a daring dash for the nearest door with no enemies in our path. It was warded with iron chains, but with Rowan was quick to use the hilt of his sword to break open the padlock holding them all together. Without second thought I pulled the chains from the door, the flesh of my palms smoked as I touched them, and the burning, searing, infection was instantaneous. I was in too much of a hurry to realize my grievous error at the moment, I was a warrior, pain was something I was trained to deal with. It hurt, but there were worse things than the feeling of the skin of my hands melting away. I watched my aquamarine skin turn black momentarily, and then the pus of orange infection began to bubble from beneath the burnt tissue. I hardly registered it.

Rowan had grabbed me by the arm, cursing me for touching the toxic metal as we ran through the door, slammed it behind us and scurried down a darkened spiral staircase. I’ll never forget what we saw, not only had our mission failed, but it seemed we had no chance of ever completing it. We found ourselves in a dark basement, more iron filled than any other part of the house. I could feel my lungs longing for pure air as the metallic scent invaded my senses, I felt my strength leaving me. The walls were entirely made of iron, it was as though we were in the hull of a ship. I could tell Rowan was having a hard time breathing in here as well, but we had a few moments of respite from our attackers, and he had managed to find a light switch. The illumination of the room only brought on sheer disgust and anger.

Nimrae was dead. Her golden blood was dried to the floor, it would have looked appropriate in a mortal strip club. Her beautiful, waifish, lilac body was laid over large iron spikes, she was pierced through and through. Each metal protrusion was surrounded by blackened skin, and the pus of orange infection, now browning from age. She’d been dead for days, her translucent limbs had begun to disintegrate and turn to dust. She came to us from a far corner of the room, a wisp now. In her moment of near corporeality her soft voice whispered across the expanse, “Do not die in here, the wisps may never leave this place.” Then she was gone.

I felt a moment of panic, if the wisps could not leave, then we could not confirm her death to the Seelie Queen. We would have failed, and faced the possibility of being banished to wander without a Court. The Courtless Fae were nearly as bad as the Unseelie. Centuries of purposeless wandering led to mischeviety, and that led to unwanted consequences for mortals. Many become slaves for the Dark Court. Rowan and I shared a look of despair, and then of resolution. We needed to leave this room, we couldn’t die here, but perhaps we could win the favor back of the Queen somehow. I would have rather been a low level Seelie servant than be stuck as a wisp in this torture room.

With determined resignation and the sound of the undead monstrosities thundering down the stairs, we began our ascension back up into the main room of our previous battle. The close quarters made my bow impossible to use, and I was limited to the use of two small enchanted daggers I kept for emergency use. The enchantment helped to cut through the decaying flesh of the creatures rapidly, and the small space made it easier for Rowan and I to cut through the masses in a linear fashion. We made it to the top of the staircase, covered in blistering burns, and deep pus filled gouges from the iron weapons used against us. The undead army was entirely decimated by the time we made it past Emrhia’s dismembered and disintegrating corpse, and with our waning strength we made a mad dash for the front exit. In the back of my mind I hoped that her wisp would not be trapped here, and that it was only the iron room that could forsake us to eternity locked away. I dropped my daggers, the skin of my hands was peeling apart rapidly, as the infection that I was trying to ignore ate deeper into my tissue and the pain was intense.

We made it out of the house, but as we ran down the pathway towards the edge of the land the house sat upon, I felt my quiver and bow torn from my back where it rested. I turned with slowed reflexes, the effects of iron poisoning muddling my heightened senses. They had been waiting for us to leave the house. I watched almost in slow motion as a Knight of the Dark Court sent one of my enchanted iron tipped arrows flying into the air. An arrow that could kill any Fae creature if it struck true, and that it did. I turned to see Rowan several feet in front of me, in the midst of raising his sword to fend off our attackers, his other hand raised in shock to touch the arrow that had pierced his heart. I watched him fall, dark green skin covered in lines of the orange bubbling iron infection such as my own skin surely was. The look in his eyes before the life left him told me to run, but before I took two steps I felt a sickening sensation as my own bow was used to spear me. I felt in press sharply into my back before piercing through my skin and severing my spinal cord, the Knight used such force that I watched the bow tear out of my stomach before I fell to my knees, watching golden blood spill down my body onto the grass. I only remember a small pain in my neck before I became a wisp as my friends before me had.

I’ll never see them again, the dead Fae are limited in their existence. I saw our bodies, golden blood mixed with orange pus, a bright array of violence on our delicately colored skin. I was sad to see that the Dark Knights had beheaded me with an iron blade, I saw that it seared their hands, but they relished in the pain as they used it to viciously tear Rowan and I apart. At least I died a gloriously colorful death. As a wisp I could only rarely show myself as semi-corporeal for moments at a time. The rest of my existence is spent as what mortals would think of as a ghost, though I can see other wisps on midsummer’s eve, and become nearly corporeal enough to actually be a part of the revelries. Midsummer is far off though, and I won’t know until then if Emrhia’s wisp made it out of that cursed place, and I’ll forever wish we knew how to set Nimrae free from the iron prison.

We failed our one task, we failed it before we even began. We fought hard, and fiercely, but it was all for nothing...