Page 86 of Wrath of the Fae Queen
The Templars part as their leader marches out into the center of the boulevard, carrying a small female flower nymph. He tosses her to the ground. She falls so hard that the fine branches that make up her long hair snap and scatter tiny leaves across the floor. The pink flowers across her body close into tight buds as a reaction to the physical trauma.
She rolls and tries to scurry away, hands flying out behind her and heels kicking up chunks of grass, but the leader places a boot on her chest and holds her in place. A man and another woman are tossed beside her by his followers, these two covered in small fern fronds, yellow lichen and daisies.
“We are seekers of the truth!” the leader roars up at the crowd. “We see through the lies and misinformation that cloud the judgments of the courts. We do not accept the bribes theytake to let criminals walk free. It is our job to act upon threats, not sit around debating.”
He lifts his helmet just enough to spit at the nymph beneath his boot.
“You might look upon these fae and see innocent traders, but you only perceive what is on the surface, and do not comprehend that the mere presence of these people endangers our entire court! That their existence here, their attitudes and dealings, are a threat to your own businesses that you have invested so much in.”
He pulls his axe free from his back. I almost incinerate him on the spot. I should kill him right now, but I need to hear the Truth Templar logic that has so many in their thrall. He points his weapon to the crowd while the woman squirms on the ground.
“Do not forget,” he continues. “The low fae want you to shut up your shops and live in the wilds of this court, so you will use up all of your raw magic in replenishing their groves and meadows and waters. They are lazy. Useless. Instead of tending to the land themselves, they want us high fae to do it. Ask yourself: why are low fae living among you, here in the city? Is it to compromise your businesses and destroy your way of life, so you are forced out of the capital to live in service of them instead? Why should you lift a finger to protect such people? Their sentence is death, and it is for your benefit.”
Aggravated voices rise up from the crowd, which is only growing in size, but it isn’t clear what each one is saying.
“You select your version of the truth to suit your own greed and prejudices,” I call out. “You run rampant, killing whoever you want with fabricated excuses and no consequences. The Truth Templars are attacking these people because they are low fae, nothing more. You have practically said it yourself. Which group will you target next? Fae who have done military servicein the Winter Wars because they are trained warriors and could become vigilantes? How about any business that undercuts the High Chancellor’s profits? Fae who descend from any other court, which is many of us? Or simply anyone you like?”
“I do not answer to the likes of you!” the lead Templar snarls, pointing a finger at me. “Templars, kill these obstructors of justice. Burn the florist to the ground. Remove the heads from these criminal nymphs and tear their heart-stones from their chests! The king is dead and thisqueenis a powerless nobody without him!” he roars as he brings his axe down toward the flower nymph’s neck.
It stops inches away as Aldrin’s hooks in his flesh seize up every one of his muscles.
Absolute chaos erupts around us.
Truth Templars charge my warriors and clash blades with them.Their ranks attempt to slaughter the peaceful nymphs whimpering on the ground and Aldrin forces their bodies to freeze.
“Powerless?You believe me POWERLESS?” I shout, striding through the mayhem of thrashing bodies until I close the small distance to the lead Templar. I knock off his helmet and his eyes trace my movements as I place a hand on his cheek.His appearance matches that of the typical Spring Court high fae: tanned skin, dark hair, smooth features and pointed ears. He has probably never been made to feel other or inadequate his entire life.
His flesh cracks beneath my touch. Great fissures run along his face, down his neck and across his body. Ash floats from them as red light glows within. My earth magic rapidly decays his body to dust. My fire incinerates him from the inside out. His mouth gapes wide open, but no scream leaves his lips. Within a few heartbeats, his chainmail armor drops to the ground in a pile of dark powder.
I look up to the crowd, who stare down upon the scene with horror.
“Could a weak queen reduce a man to ash?” I ask them. “Could a weak queen fight an entire gang of Truth Templars without fear or difficulty?”
Aldrin steps out of the shadows with the other half of our force and joins the raging fight. With a flick of his wrist, immense roots tear out of the ground, wrapping around the innocent nymphs and lifting them onto the balconies. More encase the immobilized Templars who stand over the nymphs with axes poised above their necks.
The ground in the nearby patch of forest opens at Aldrin’s bidding, and his victims are dragged into those pits by roots, swallowed whole as the ground slams closed on their bodies. The earth magic in this court reacts most strongly to his command, as he is king over all creatures in the land, including the foliage.
“My queen has the strength of power and character to win and rule this court on her own, but she isn’t alone.” He raises his sword in the air as all eyes turn to him and widen.
Many in the crowd above gasp, and some even cheer. Aldrin looks more god than man. He doesn’t need a crown to announce him as the king, not with the ring of long horns erupting from his head in his primal form. The black streaks across his face and neck make him appear brutally powerful, paired with the shoulder spikes of his heavy armor.
Some of the Truth Templars whimper and try to run at the sight of him. One actually wets himself. I shoot two arrows in fast succession, thrusting powerful air wields around them to intensify their force. When they land in the backs of two fleeing Templars, they pierce through chainmail, flesh and bone, right into their hearts. The rest are still engaged in sword fights with our warriors.
I whip back around to Aldrin as he starts speaking again. “I have died twice for the Spring Court, and twice I have returned from death. I am here as your salvation from tyranny. It is not the low fae or the Winter fae who bleed this court dry, but your own High Chancellor Titania. Since when do we kill people on the street without trial? Your neighbors and friends are dying at her hand. Business is tough because of her levies and the food shortage is of her fabrication. I will bring the City of Vertical Gardens more food than it can eat, then I will bring it the political freedom it deserves!”
It is like his mere presence calls upon the lady of the night blooms that dot the masonry walls of every shop and apartment. The luminescent center of each flower points straight at him, casting him in a bright glow. The people themselves cannot drag their eyes from him, despite the fighting that still rages around us.
“Hail the true king and queen!” a high fae calls out from one of the balconies.
“The king has returned to save us!” another shouts, and more cheers follow.
A Templar runs right for Aldrin, axe held high, and the ground swallows him up immediately. I place a hand on the back of a huge man who takes a swinging blow at Cyprien, and the Templar melts rapidly down to dust. Cyprien gives me a nod of thanks while I heave in front of him. The use of such magic takes a toll, but the people need to witness what I am capable of.
My father rams a sword of fire into the gut of the last Templar. Vines snake out from the forest, wrapping around the limbs of the bodies and dragging them into its depths, the earth swallowing them up.
Klara and Rainier scale steps of hardened air up to the balconies where the flower nymphs huddle among a group of their neighbors. Someone has wrapped blankets around theirshoulders and put hot drinks in their hands. Mother and son heal their minor cuts and wounds, but there is nothing they can do for the shock that grips the nymphs.
I walk to Aldrin’s side and take his hand, but it is the people I address. “Spread the truth of what you have seen here tonight. Tell everyone you know about the brutality and mindless prejudice of the Truth Templars, especially those who have not experienced it firsthand. Let all know that your king has returned to save us all.”
