In the remnants of a Fey city, Maer Cyllic waited.

The Seelie had once occupied the city, but they retreated to their fabled lands deeper in the Fey centuries ago. Now, the once white walls had cracked, and vines grew into them as they slowly tore down structures long ago strengthened by magic. Towers crumbled and fell, rooves collapsed, and bridges surrendered themselves to the dark waters below. The overgrown rubble had become naught but a haunt to wild creatures of the Fey, creatures that hunted and preyed on those smaller. That was the way of life in the Fey – kill, serve, or be killed.

Maer Cyllic, however, was not a creature to be trifled with. The lives of many creatures had met their end in his presence. No, Maer acknowledged the dark part of his soul that took joy in the blood soaking his hands as he wrung the life from hapless creatures.

He dragged a knife under long nails, waiting impatiently. Finally, the Feyling he was due to meet, finally arrived.

‘Of all places, you had to choose here.’ The other Feyling stood before him – Grey Crag. Aptly named, Grey Crag’s skin was the colour of mottled iron, which gave him a menacing look when considered with his darker eyes and hair. ‘To stand in the city of the royal Seelie… nostalgia strikes deeply upon my soul.’ He didn’t bother with pleasantries – both he and Grey Crag had never bothered before.

‘If you so venerate the Seelie, you could find them; enter their service again, Grey Crag.’

‘You think this is something I desire?’

Maer Cyllic shrugged. ‘All creatures of the Fey seek power; there can be no denying that. If they cannot find it, they attach to those who can bring it to them. The Fey is a story of blood and suffering, as all know.’

‘I know there is much blood on your hands,’ Grey Crag said warily, watching the knife with consideration.

Maer Cyllic laughed. ‘I do not claim my actions are pure, but they are motivated by a need to survive, to save what is dear to me. Does that make me a villain or a saviour?’

‘Deep currents run in those thoughts.’

Shrugging, Maer sighed. He dragged the knife back and forth, further cleaning his nails. In life, violence was necessary to deal with certain circumstances. If forced, he would be violent, but it was not the choice he wanted to make; he was simply practical.

Grey Crag looked thoughtful as he considered. ‘There is truth in your words. Still, I dislike seeing the ruins and remembering what once was, remembering what could have been. These losses scour the soul of every creature in this world… and yet for some, it is an opportunity.’ His face hid whether he found the memory appealing or unsatisfactory. ‘But exactly, why are we here?’

‘I do not wish to play games. Within this shattered city was the closest point to meet you, when speed was integral.’

‘Why Maer, curse your wandering thoughts. Tell me why we would meet after all this time?’

‘Do not accuse me of games Grey Crag. You know as well as I that two humans crossed into the Fey.’

Crag nodded, carefully considering his words as he replied: ‘It should not have been possible – no, not possible at all. Those gates have been sealed since Dechran Oedran, the beginning of this age.’

‘How would we know what is possible? We didn’t seal them, and that magic has never been ours to command.’ Maer didn’t say what he did or didn’t know. The uneasiest alliances demanded some information be withheld. ‘Consider for a moment, the impact of open gateways upon the Fey. Think about it… what does that mean?’

Grey Crag’s reply was instantaneous. ‘Then the Seelie will know. The Sovereign Queen shall return, and with it, will come a chance for retribution.!’

Maer cursed. ‘What would the Sovereign Queen know, hiding away under whatever rock makes her look the strongest? If there is to be an answer to this, it must come from others. The Seelie are gone, and while they may return, they have not yet. Look around you. Would they not have reclaimed their land, their very own castles and glittering cities, if they but had the power? No, they slunk away to cower in their caves or hide in the forest, fearful of those who come after. Where is the Sovereign Queen now if she has such power?’

‘That’s treasonous!’ Grey Crag hissed before he drew a deep breath and steadied himself.

‘I prefer to think of it as pragmatic. How long since you have seen the Seelie rather than just heard of them? Have they been hunted to death? Assuming that they have not met their grisly end, consider carefully whether you want their form of order back? Is that what you desire, or is the Fey finally allowing those with power to find their rightful positions? Would you surrender everything to bow down to another royal? The Unseelie were bad enough without putting the Sovereign Queen of the Seelie back in power.’

‘I… It is always words with you, Maer Cyllic. More words than I care to listen to. You are fortunate that I know the power resting in your hands. How many could say they have seen your resolve tested and lived to see the dawn of a new day?’

‘Then you know it too. The Seelie, the Unseelie, they do not matter to ones such as us. What matters is those Magicians. Finding them and learning their secrets is our priority.’

Grey Crag nodded. ‘But what would you do with that knowledge?’

Maer Cyllic looked at his hands, imagining blood running across them, pooling in his palms, and dripping from the tips of his fingers in an endless procession. ‘When the Seelie left these lands so long ago, was it from violence? Look around this city, Grey Crag, and do not focus on what was lost. No, look at how it was lost. There was no war, no siege surrounding this city, nor a battle fought throughout it. No, this city was abandoned. The Seelie abandoned their glory – and it was not the hands of the Unseelie who sought power in that void. No… there was emptiness, and nobody alive to this day understands what caused that to occur. The Fey, so long ruled beneath a cruel hand of justice, was released to the wild. And the wild came… yes, it came indeed. It is as you said, Grey Crag. You speak of retribution, and that shall be our sword.’

Silence filled the space for a time before Grey Crag stretched his fingers and rolled his shoulders. ‘This is all well and good, but what is your plan? Why did you want to meet me?’

Stroking his chin, Maer pulled on the wispy hairs growing there. ‘We work together, Grey Crag, to find any magicians. If the doors are open, more will come, and if more will come, then…’ It was best not to reveal too much to Grey Crag at this point. ‘But there is also another matter of interest. I have found a Hollow.’

Grey Crag gasped, his face going white. ‘An original?’

Maer nodded. ‘It is so. I need to get her to talk, but I do have not the means to harass a shade. There is one who might know the answer, but she lies beyond my territory and outside my reach. I need your friend, Nan Caenach, to find her – I know he can, as he has a knack for finding things lost.’

‘Find her?’

‘Niamh.’

‘Niamh,’ Greg Crag repeated her name like it was both a blessing and a curse.

‘Find me Niamh and that condemned trinket she carries, and together we will revel in the secrets of this shade – this Magician. Together we will find a way to draw those magicians back to the Fey and find a way to bridge the boundary.’

‘I… I will do as your say. I will send Nan Caenach to find Niamh, but you know what I will want in return?’ He turned his body, ready to depart.

Maer prevented him, saying: ‘Grey Crag. We have known each other for a long time, so I know to state this clearly for you. Don’t think I am alone in this. I am just the one you are meeting face to face, or flesh to flesh.’ He smiled, the threat evident on his sharp features.

Grey Crag paused momentarily before jerking his head in a nod.

Maer watched him depart without further comment, considering whether he would be forced to kill Grey Crag after all. Surprisingly, he didn’t want to, but it might be necessary, and Maer Cyllic was nothing if not a pragmatist. The rules of the Fey ensured that; you either sought and gained power, or you served those who held it.

Or you died. There was always that.

Maer knew the rules of the Fey, as did every living creature of this world.

After all, what was the purpose of life if you did not have the power to live it?