Becoming Fae
One-on-One with Immail

“You do this a lot,” I huffed as Immail walked farther away from the fire. “You know you could just ask people to come with you, right?”

“You have short legs and don’t walk fast enough. Patience isn’t one of my stronger skills,” he said.

“So... carting people around like a sack of potatoes is the better route?” I guessed, trying to follow his train of thought but coming up with nothing that made sense.

“Exactly,” he said, sounding pleased. “Also, you can’t see and there are some trees in the heart that are carnivores, tripping prey and dragging them under the soil to feast on them over time.”

“Yeah, I’m officially afraid of freaking trees now. Thanks for that, Pops,” I rolled my eyes.

“Pops. I think one of our kids called me that once,” he mused.

“Which one?” I asked.

“The one that got his backside tanned into the next century,” he replied, and I laughed. “You think I’m joking.”

“That’s okay. I can think of one that fits you better,” I swung my legs playfully. “So, where are we going, old man?”

“I’m not old,” he growled.

“I very much beg to differ. How many millennia have you been alive?” I asked rhetorically. “Will we be getting to where you’re taking me soon? I feel like a freaking damsel that got kidnapped by the lumbering brute.”

“I don’t lumber,” he said with a hint of amused exasperation. “Unless I’m drunk and that’s been a while.”

“The last time I had an alcoholic drink, it was spiked, and I ended up getting pushed into a pool,” I said. “I can’t swim, so that was loads of fun. Nearly died, too. That’s when I made the Call. Hey, Netiri made a Call, right? That’s how you two knew you were Soul Bonded.”

“She did not make a Call. You’ll have to ask her, but she never had Guardians like you have... Well, had,” he answered.

“What do you mean ‘had’?” I asked, tilting my head a little bit.

“Whatever that... Celestial did, it broke the threads binding you to your Guardians,” he said. “I suspect that’s why your hound came to you. Risky, since the Vale would love to rip him apart until there’s nothing left.”

“You have a delightfully morbid thought process. Has anyone told you that?” I shook my head.

“You think so?” he sounded shocked. “Thank you, embrasa-rah. It’s been some time since I’ve heard such a compliment.”

“Not sure I meant it as a compliment so much as an observation, but if it makes you happy... You’re welcome?” I guessed.

“What has my brother been teaching you?” he sighed.

“You mean what has he been trying to teach me? Nothing that sticks,” I replied as he flipped me around and put me on my feet.

My wings snapped out, trying to balance me and I felt Immail grab the one that was about to hit him in the face.

“Interesting,” he said, touching the thumb joint then pulling my wing until it was fully extended, pinching lightly along the bone. “A bit scrawny.”

“Hey,” I tried pulling my wing back, but he held it firmly.

“Demon bone, at least, so that’s a good thing. Have you been practicing aerial combat?” he asked, moving the feathers around. “You’re not drying your wings properly after bathing. You’re going to get fungus.”

“Ew!” I squealed and shuddered.

“Netiri has oils to help, and she can walk you through proper care. I’m a little shocked that Celestial hasn’t already told you all of this,” he said, making me extend my other wing so he could feel the muscles on my back. “You’re lopsided, too. Not terribly, but if it’s not corrected, you’ll have an opening for enemies to exploit.”

“Is there anything good about this pop inspection?” I groaned.

“You have my span and the potential for my strength,” he said, indicating with a tap that I should lift my wings until the tips touched over my head. “You're more flexible and even with the heavier, denser demon bones, you’re narrow and streamlined, like Netiri. You’ll likely have her better agility and maneuverability.”

“The structure is sound, but the rest is crap? Thanks for that glowing assessment, old man,” I grumbled and folded my wings.

“The feathers are pretty remarkable. Did you know there are blood red tips on your primaries?” he asked.

“They’re black,” I replied.

“Not entirely. The red is very deep, difficult to see, even for me. And there’s some blue barbs in the down layers,” he said. “It’s pretty breathtaking, actually.”

“Thanks,” I muttered. “And I’ve been working on regular combat, since I still can’t find a weapon that feels right.”

“Make one,” he snorted.

“I’ve tried getting measurements of Harmon’s weapon,” I began but his laughter cut me off and I tilted my head and waited for him to catch his breath.

“Oh, embrasa-rah. You are the daughter of who the demons once named the God of Destruction. Having a forged weapon? How absurd,” he chuckled and moved me with his huge hands on my shoulders until the backs of my legs hit a fallen log and I sat down heavily.

“I can’t just abracadabra a weapon, you know,” I glared hopefully right at him.

“You can,” he chuckled. “I can smell it in your blood, little one. You have a lot of the same darkness in your veins that flows through mine.”

“I’m pretty sure if I could just pop a weapon into existence, I would have done it by now,” I narrowed my eyes at him.

“You also have a lot of the light that is housed within my love,” he said. “The two magics work very differently. The light is passive, craving a command and jumping to do as it’s been told. The darkness does not.”

“Cats and dogs,” I frowned a little bit.

“Yes. Like cats and dogs,” he chuckled. “I’m beginning to understand why you ended up with feathers instead of membrane.”

“So, you think I can materialize things out of nothing?” I asked.

“More or less,” he confirmed. “You have a lot of people around you that can teach you about the lighter magic and it seems that you have a good enough handle on it, but not even Garloth can teach you about the darker side. We might be made from the blood of the Unholy One, but we are very different in that regard.”

“Pretty sure you two are about as different as you can get and still be the same species,” I smirked, making him chuckle. “So, who exactly is this Unholy One? Lucifer?”

“He wishes,” Immail scoffed. “How was the universe created?”

“Depends on which religion, myth, fable, fairytale whatever you want to go with,” I shrugged. “Most of them start with chaos and darkness or a void.”

“Chaos. It started from Chaos,” he chuckled, and I felt the ground vibrate as he sat down. “There are two great forces in the universe, Fae. One is Chaos and the other is Order. From Chaos, Darkness was born and from Order came Light.”

“Darkness and Light as in...?”

“The magics of the world,” he answered. “One cannot exist where the other does not.”

“True for both,” I nodded.

“Yes, Chaos and Order, Light and Darkness all rely on their counterparts to exist,” he said. “The Unholy One was the creation of the Darkness. The first born, created to rule over the rest.”

“Like you?” I asked and he hummed.

“I was created to destroy. I put myself in the position to rule,” he corrected. “But it is similar, I suppose. In a way.”

“So... this magic you say I can use to make stuff... It’s part of the primordial darkness?”

“Think farther back,” he chuckled. “My blood is undiluted, making me a nearly unstoppable weapon. I was born with more of Chaos, since that ultimately leads to destruction. Darkness is just... dark.”

“Darkness is terrifying, Immail,” I said softly, my eyes and brain searching for a light I already knew I wouldn’t find.

“Your heart has been racing since you woke up. Not even your fairy can calm it much,” he stated.

“I hate the dark.”

“Why? It’s a part of you, just like the light is,” he asked.

“It... There’re things in the dark. I like to see what comes for me, even if I can’t do anything to stop it,” I answered then swallowed hard to get the lump down my throat.

“You’re like me in that,” he chuckled. “Facing your enemies feels much better than not knowing they were ever there and wondering what happened in your last moments.”

“I’d rather not have last moments until I’m old and gray, warm and comfy, tucked away in my bed,” I narrowed my eyes at him. Hopefully.

“Not everyone gets that. This family, in particular, seems to have a difficult time living until their time comes to an end naturally,” he said in agreement. “I wish I could say that it was due to the curse, but... Perhaps, in part, it was.”

“But it’s mostly because of us being who we are,” I nodded. “Too powerful to be left alone, even when we do nothing to attract the attention. Used to find out more about our family, even when we have no idea who that family is.”

“Something you want to tell me?” he asked, and I sighed heavily. “I can sense it, you know. The memory of the pain that will never leave you. The knowing that, no matter how much time, how many years pass, you’ll still know how it feels as the knife slices your flesh or the smell of your own skin as it burned.”

“They healed my wounds to keep me alive so I could tell them about parents that I never knew about. I still don’t know who was behind it,” I said slowly.

“I cannot die,” he said. “Not at the hands of those less than me. Should he wish it, Garloth could, if I allowed him to. Any of our brothers and sister could. The ones that kept me still tried, though.”

“Could I?”

“I would say that I don’t think so, but you are far more powerful than any of our other descendants,” he chuckled.

“I don’t feel powerful,” I muttered.

“That’s fear and self-doubt. I have no experience with it when it comes to my abilities. I was created as I am now. I have always known who I am and what I can do and what I was meant for,” he said.

“Must be nice,” I scoffed.

“At times, I suppose it is. Like now, for instance,” he said. “You have great skill with the light, but you must tame the darkness in order to reach the true potential of your strength.”

“I have a large enough target on my back already,” I stated flatly.

“And it will only grow,” he said firmly. “You were chosen by your Trials, your ancestors, to take the Throne. You will draw demons to you no matter what you do, and that pull is only ever going to get stronger. It’s the darkness in your blood, the same darkness in mine, and the same darkness that I used to make the Throne. In a way, it’s the Throne calling to you to try and tame it once more.”

“And you can’t just take it instead of me?” I asked with a grimace.

“Self-doubt gets you nothing, Fae,” he said.

“Just making sure there are no other options. Since I’m blind now, I think fighting in a war might end very poorly for me and anyone that follows me. If any of them do after they find out,” I held up my hands in defense.

“I cannot. Not only will it reject me because it hates me, but now I have Netiri’s light connected to me,” he said.

“So do I, right?”

“You were born with it. I was not. It would see it as... a parasite, basically. It will try to purge the invader from me and in doing so, it will likely kill both of us,” he said.

“Yeah, let’s not do that, then,” I made a face.

“Netiri intends to help you see again, in a sense, and I will let her explain that, but I intend to teach you how to harness and control the darkness so that, when the time comes, you can claim the Throne and not have it’s bad attitude and temper tantrums hurt you in the process,” he said.

“Why do I not like the way this is sounding?” I groaned.

“Because in order to control something, you must first understand it and that, embrasa-rah, happens when you no longer fear the thing you face,” he sounded smug.

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