Prologue
A nocturnal cathedral held a bright night symphony- the rattle of crickets’ legs, soft howls of slow winds, an echoing owl’s call, a sudden clattering cackle of something wild and warm blooded, the shuttering of vegetation all muted and symbolic.
Hollow words mixed with ash, drifting off without an echo, “Tell me how you’d define evil, Delta.” The layered rasp of the sorcerer’s voice drew shivers over the other’s skin as it usually did- no one ever quite able to become accustomed to the sound of it.
“Subjective.” The grey skinned night fae replied without hesitation.
They stood on a ridge. Two ‘creatures’ outlined in the silken aura of the luminous moons, staring down at the scorched battlefield soaked in blood and pinpricked in smoldering arrows. Steel and iron chipped into red mud and what remains of splintered Eenoan staffs hummed as their vyra leaked away. It’s a mass grave of boys and men- Eenoans and whichever unfortunate souls they happened to be invading- incinerated together. A null battle that would be scared into the land for generations to come.
The sorcerer tilted his head to the side, obsidian hair spilling over his shoulder.
The fae gave a casual shrug, yet his eyes remained trained on the carnages of war. “The common Eenoan believes their mission to be divine. They have truly accepted that, so their drive is pure, their opposition is evil.”
The sorcerer frowned.
“However, Kohyrn,” He smirked at the other man’s attitude and gave a backhanded flourish. Thick black resin beaded into the air, spread across the field once more. Then with an easy flick of his finger, the explosive saps ignited, burning the remaing evidence. “Those the Eenoans slaughtered would have much different feelings on the matter. When they both believe the other evil and themselves to be true and just, it becomes a mere matter of opinion.”
Behind them a third ‘creature’ scoffed.
At one point his aggressive stutter would have diced his words, but now- a sun cycle passed from their torture in the cells of Illowen- his voice held steady. “Evil is not a mere matter of ideological opinion. Cross cultural agreement is what matters. That is what good and evil are. The majority dictates universally accepted truths, the masses create the standards.”
Kohryn let out an airy laugh. “And you believe the standard of evil is...?”
“You?” The mimic smirked. “Aye.”
Delta’s mouth drew down in distaste, his expression stretching into a sneer.
Kohryn held out a hand, silencing him before he snapped at the mimic.
His eyes drew to the other male to find one of his strange smiles crescenting his features. To Delta, they hid so much. Emotions, desire, and need he could never decipher.
Kohryn turned to face the mimic with amusement in his voice, “And yet you, Set Al’guin,” his name rolled through the air in a possessive wave, “have pledged yourself to me?”
“Aye.” Set nodded, and despite his criticisms, returned the sorcerer’s smile. He stood from his rest against a tree and came next to Kohryn, not faltering in step or confidence as he approached.
Delta watched with a quiet jealousy. He possessed Kohryn’s name. Had learned the song of his soul note by note and could sing its command. What more could any fae desire? Only he among his kind possessed the name of such a powerful being.
Yet the mimic had a piece of the other man that Delta did not.
A camaraderie. A trusted confidant and an advisor. The affirmation Kohryn desired. The kind that scared the hell out of Delta. Snakes of envy and fear poisoning his psyche, clouding his judgment, and swaying his choices. He’d long abandoned whatever plan he had in favor of Kohryn and he wanted to preserve some shred of him from his rapid transformation.
So it irritated Delta beyond ration that Set was so willing to push him to be everything the sorcerer wanted to be.
No glory or honor laid in wait for the man, only ever a martyr to the truly wicked. Just like the sorcerers of old, of myth and legend.
Delta didn’t want to accept that those myths were simply as sorcerers have always been. Because sure enough, day by day, he watched the softer delicate pieces of Kohryn flutter away. He was changing and so were his scents and his soul song.
The scents that perfumed the world around him- soft breezes of late summer, mountains, and rain- were being folded away as a rushed autumn replaced summer’s end. Like a mist of fog that carried the freezing of earthly decay. It was nearly impossible to not mourn the loss of such sweet smells as those of darkness were eating away at the man he knew.
And his song.
That beautiful layered symphony, once grand and cosmic, was steadily becoming thunderous. A drawn out tale of an end.
Kohryn and Set stood side by side, no piece of them touching as their features wavered in the light of his fires. Kohryn held his hands clasped behind his back watching in contentment as the rest of the battle turned to cinder and ash. The mimic at his shoulder, true to his oath to serve him, had one hand loose at his side and the other poised on the scythe at his waist.
He had advised Yuen but never as Set advised Kohryn. Delta did not serve. He did not possess the blind devotion so many had wished he’d had for the Imperial Prince. Instead he viewed the other fae as an equal. A fellow confidant and friend.
Set was truly a servant, soul pledged and body lended of his own volition. In his eyes the sorcerer was a god. Not a floral god like Delta, or a fauna god like a vypnyr. No, a god amongst humans, willed into the world in their volatile belief that he was truly an entity of evil.
For a while the three watched the fires with only the crackle of unburnt sap and pockets of oxygen sending hushed snaps through the trees. Then calmly Kohryn turned, set in the path to return back to the mainroad. “Mikhail and Asarath are waiting.” The others of their party, who’d chosen to share in the mission.
Delta watched as he walked away, the mimic blending into the shadow of his feet; ready to strike at anything that grew too near.
Kohryn stopped a few meters out and twisted his head back. Black hair spilled just right to reveal large yellow eyes through their strands. His gaze knit into the night fae.
The man said nothing; no smile offered, only eyes boring into him as he waited. Delta took a step forward and then another.
The delicate layers of Kohrynn he so cherished would shed away as the long night came, but there, waiting for him, would always be the hardened branches and beams of the sorcerer’s being.
He offered the sorcerer a small smile that was not returned. His smiles were too rare for this simple moment.But his eyes did soften. Lightly everpresent bruised lids slipped down as a pleasant hum sounded from his throat.
His silent gestures were so different from those feral smiles. His glee, humor, and malice were too raw and unpracticed. But his quiet calm communication had been ingrained into him- a natural and soothing behavior.
Delta couldn’t help the way his lips tilted in more sincerity. He dipped his head, ushering them forward and their slow steps fell in sync. “Should we hurry?” The tease of song filled the air around them in a lazy tune.
The sorcerer shook his head. “No. There is a pleasant warmth carried in the winds. I’d like to enjoy it while it lasts.”
The fires smoldered behind them, and the night fae resisted the urge to burn the forest in the wake of their path. Just so he could walk a little slower beside the man.
