CHAPTER 2 - A DEADLY SUN - Part 4

“Give King Simon my regards when you see him. And stay away from the border,” the King warned Grimm as they readied to leave.
The Dreamweaver and Grimm were both mounted. Fifty Kingsguard soldiers were behind them ready to march, while another fifty walked in front. The Nightlands and Starlight were both riding with Grimm, alongside his massive charger.
The Dreamweaver believed they would have no trouble making it to Vess with this much protection. They started out early in the day, marching at a good pace. The Dreamweaver didn’t understand why the Knights and Grimm kept silent the whole way, but it must have been a warrior thing, he thought.
They rode through deep valleys and small forests, over gentle hills and flat areas that hardly had brush growing. They kept to the King’s Road which at this point connected King Cosmin’s castle to King Simon’s royal palace.
They kept well away from the border, but both Knight peeled away during the two week journey to head towards their holdings and guard them before the tourney. The Dreamweaver wondered how few men would come for the tourney since they needed to guard their borders so diligently.
The extra fifty soldiers also left the group when they reached the border of Vess. But twenty Vess militia, dressed in gold tabards met Grimm at the border as an escort in. It seemed their borders were contested as well.
It was another two weeks before they saw the city that surrounded King Simon’s palace. There was a circular wall that surrounded the city, that protected the palace as well as the entrance to the mines which were located behind the palace against the Everwinter Mountains.
The militia directed Grimm’s troops to the local Kingsguard barracks which were inside the city and there they met Captain Oana who was in charge in the city of Vess.
“Well met Captain of Captain!” Oana called form the doorway of the barracks. “I trust your journey was a safe one?”
“We stayed away from the borders, so yes, but I would like to see the raiders for myself,” Grimm answered, scowling at the idea.
“When you go to Rath, I’ll send some men with you and you can probably see for yourself. The raids are small but come often, from clans we don’t know that ride unmarked.”
“That’s what we heard in Seawatch as well,” the Dreamweaver said.
“I’ll leave my men with you Oana, and we’ll go to the palace.” Grimm saluted his fifty soldiers and spun his horse back towards the main road that led to the palace.
The Dreamweaver marveled at how rich this city was. Everything was painted and scrubbed clean, which rich merchants lining the spotless streets, selling overprices wares everywhere. He was amazed at the cut of clothing on what seemed the simplest people. The wealth of this city trickled down to the lowest man it seemed.
He felt awkward in his traveling gear, carrying a large saddle bag that was dusty from the road, and wearing his most worn robe. The main street that led towards the palace was wide and paved with good stone and beautiful shops lined each side.
The palace ahead was a huge building, designed for looks more than for defense. Grimm grumbled about how difficult it would be to guard such a place. Gold adorned militia walked the street though, with long spears and billy clubs for anyone who got unruly.
The palace was built with white marble that had small black streaks in it. It was gilded with real gold, showing its wealth and splendor for all to see. Grimm led the old man around the side of the palace to enter the back through the stables.
A young boy ran up to accept their horses and the Dreamweaver threw him a coin. He grinned and promised he would give the horse water and oats and a good clean stall. The Dreamweaver smiled, thinking all the stalls must be clean in this stable.
Grimm walked into the central courtyard and was met by a man in the white robe of the Church. He was as tall as Grimm but thin, and wore a long white beard that hung past his waist.
“Greetings Grimm!” he called. “I am Ludovicus, the High Priest for King Simon. He bids you welcome and wishes for me to show you to your rooms.”
“Good, we’ll be glad to get cleaned up,” Grimm responded.
The Priest led them through tall doors made of a dark red wood that gleamed with polish. The floors were so shiny they cast reflections of their bodies as they walked along the corridors. Gas lamps hung along the halls, giving off a smokeless light and a pleasant smell.
The Dreamweaver was astounded at the condition of their guest rooms. Grimm seemed unaffected, but the old man stood open mouthed in the middle of his room looking at the expensive curtains, rugs, tapestries and pillows, all made with the finest material and spotless clean.
“Would you care for a scented bath sirrah?” a young woman called from outside the room.
“That would be wonderful,” the Dreamweaver said. She led him into another room that had a tub already filled with steaming hot scented water. Little soaps floated in the surface and the Dreamweaver stripped marveling at the cast of the tub, made of all copper with clawed feet at the bottom.
The bath was filled from another room through a copper pipe so he was not disturbed while he bathed. The warm water soothed his sore muscles from riding and he leaned back again the side in bliss. This had been the nicest part of the journey so far.
After his bath, he dried himself with the softest towels he had ever felt and dressed in his finest robe, a dark green with the embroidered bees of the High King along the sleeves and hem.
Another young woman offered to trim his beard and hair before he saw the King and he accepted. He felt like an entirely new man by the time he met up with Grimm, also bathed and dressed in better clothes. They walked together behind a pair of young squires into the throne room of King Simon.
Simon was a small man with a big personality. He had a wide smile and bright eyes. He cheerfully looked over the two men that stood before him and then glanced at his wife who was seated next to him.
“You both look refreshed!” he said joyfully. “I trust our servants gave you everything you needed?”
“They did indeed Sire,” the Dreamweaver answered. “I feel like a new man instead being exhausted from a month of riding!”
“Good, I’m glad. This is my wife, Queen Horia,” the King swept his hand to include his lovely wife. “And later you can meet my daughters, Nelu and Ioan.”
“We are honored your Majesty,” the Dreamweaver said while bowing to the woman. Grimm bowed low as well and the old man smiled.
“We have so much to discuss, don’t we?” the King asked. “Attempts on the life of my friend King Adrian, border raids and now a tourney!”
“We do indeed Sire,” the old man said in return. “It seems the Kingdom is troubled by the Rathians like never before. Do you know anything of this new King?”
“I have heard that he keeps a Shaman near him at all times and that the man practices weird rites to strange Gods of the grasslands. I remember his right hand from the Old War as well, a man named Hook.”
The Dreamweaver saw Grimm fists clench at the name. He wondered at what history there must be between the men that he was so angry about Hook.
“A Shaman? We’ll have to pay close attention when we go to see this man ourselves,” the Dreamweaver suggested.
“So you still plan to go? You’d better take a few Kingsguard with you! The unmarked raiders will likely attack you if they see you, even with an escort.”
The Queen nodded and looked fearful. Grimm scowled again and glared at the King.
“We will have some answers from that man when we go,” he snarled. “I fought Hook’s father in the Old War, and I remember his son well. His father gave me the scar I carry.”
The Dreamweaver almost gasped. So that was it he thought, the man who cut Grimm and his son who came after. There must be bad blood between them.
“I had heard about that battle Grimm, and I’m sorry that you have to face that man again in the line of duty. We will send our men with you until the border, but do take some extra Kingsguard with you.” Grimm nodded.
“But why don’t we go and eat now? You must be hungry from riding and eating travel food!” the King invited. “Please come with us to the dining hall.”
The royal couple led them down another marble hallway and into a large room that had tapestries lining the walls, beautiful rugs across the floors and chandeliers hanging from the ceiling with large candle lit to give a warm glow.
The settings were the finest plates and real glasses that one could buy. The napkins were fine linen and embroidered with the bar of gold that was King Simon’s symbol. The chairs were made out of dark wood that was smooth to the touch, with woven grass seats that must have come from Rath.
They sat down near the head of the table which was wide enough to hold both King and Queen, sharing the seat of power. Two young ladies entered the room from another door and came to sit down. Both of them had golden hair like their mother, and bright blue eyes like their father.
“The one on the right is my eldest, Nelu and the other is my youngest Ioan,” the King introduced. “Girls this is Grimm, the Captain of Captains for the High King and a royal advisor called the Dreamweaver.”
Both girls curtsied and took their seats at the table. The eldest stared at the Dreamweaver for a few moments and then spoke.
“Can you really weave dreams?” she asked.
The old man chuckled at the child’s question. “I can indeed!” he said. “Would you like me to tell you what your dreams mean later?”
“Oh yes!” she said cheerfully.
“We are excited about the tourney because it would be good for us to see King Adrian again and his children. We have become close over the years of being in the same High Kingdom and I think I would like to see Adrian’s son and how he matches up to Nelu here,” the King explained.
“King Adrian expressed only good wishes to you and seemed to have thoughts along those same lines,” the Dreamweaver said in response.
“Excellent! Now perhaps we should eat and save conversation for after.”
Multiple dishes arrived and it was the richest food the Dreamweaver had ever tasted. Platters of roast meats, and boiled dumplings, bowls of vegetables and sauces, a variety of drinks, both deep ales and pleasant wines. It was all so good the Dreamweaver tried to taste a bit of everything.
“You must have the best chefs in the Kingdom!” he exclaimed as the desserts hit the table. There were berries and creams, flavored ice shavings and a special thick syrup to top the cakes and brownies with. The Dreamweaver sampled everything he could, finally leaning back stuffed full of delicious food.
The girls both said goodnight and left to find their nanny for bed. The King invited the two visitors to come with him to his solar and discuss the raids. The Queen went to put her children to bed and avoid the discussion of violence.
The solar was a round room, made of marble with a pink cast to it. Windows opened up to look out over the city and the Dreamweaver could see the lights of the different shops and homes of people still awake and busy.
“The raids have been frequent and always by men that don’t seem to be connected to any tribe,” the King began. “They wear no symbols of clan and don’t even seem to be interested in gaining much but making people leave the areas they raid.”
“What is their goal?” Grimm asked, his voice deep and low.
“They seem to just want farmers to leave their land. They burn and pillage, but don’t kill people unless they resist,” the King explained.
“I don’t understand why Nicu would allow such a thing, so it must be going on without his permission,” the Dreamweaver suggested.
“He has sent a few warriors to investigate, which is more than I think he has done for Seawatch, but it comes to nothing. The Horse Lords just disappear into the grass and return later when Nicu’s men are gone.”
“What bothers me most is the attempt on Adrian’s life,” the Dreamweaver reminded them.
“Yes, tell me about that,” the King asked as he moved to take a seat in a large cushioned chair. He motioned for the other two men to take seat along a bench that was covered in seating pillows.
“We went out with the King and his family to do some fishing, Adrian’s son was excited to show us his trained loons,” the Dreamweaver remembered. “Grimm noticed that many of the side channels along the river were blocked up forcing us to go only one direction.”
“And then Rathian arrows, you know the type, big and thick, came flying out of the bushes and almost killed Adrian’s son. I was quite frightening.”
“We changed our security here just in case, as I imagine the other Kings have done,” the King stated. “But there have been no attempts here, nor any suspicious behavior.”
“We couldn’t find a single Rathian after the incident, but we plan to speak to Nicu about it when we go to see him next.”
“Well I wish you both luck in talking to him. We’ve sent a few messages back and forth, but he doesn’t seem like a man who’s ready to listen.”
“Oh, he’ll talk to me,” Grimm warned. “You can count on that!”

***

“Chakka!”
“Chakka!” the man barked, waving his spear at Cullen. Cullen sent images through the pack sense and woke his brothers. They crawled out of the tent quickly but since the camp was totally surrounded, they couldn’t get very far. But at least Cullen didn’t feel alone anymore.
“Sook takka chun depakote!” one man said in alarm to another once the elves were noticed.
“I don’t understand what you’re saying friend!” Cullen responded to the man with the spear aimed at him. “Do you speak another language?
There was a moment of silence. A woman approached the man with the spear, who was wearing robes and a scarf that covered most of his face, except the eyes. She was also wearing robes and pants that ballooned out before being tucked into small boots.
“Sun chat bekka totall,” she said to the man. He glanced at her and then back at Cullen.
“Can you understand me now intruder?” he said in heavily accented words that Cullen could in fact understand.
“Yes!” Cullen said excitedly. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t understand you before. Who are you?”
“I think you should answer my questions first. Who are you? And why are you with those strange Fae?” The man moved his spear back a bit, but the fighters all around him kept their focus on Cullen and the tents.
“My name is Cullen, these others are my brothers. There are some more of us in the tents. Will you allow them to come out? Then we can all see each other.”
The man tipped his spear away and stood back. He looked at the woman and Cullen really looked over the group that surrounded them. All of them wore the wide pants and robes. Most of them wore the scarf around their faces.
Their clothes were colored almost the same color as the sand all around them. They carried curved swords and long spear with a wicked tip that could pull a man off a horse. The man who seemed to be the leader and the woman spoke to each other for a few minutes in their own language.
“Your people can come out of the tents. But it anyone tries to attack us, we will kill all of you,” the man said, he accent thick but understandable.
Cullen nodded to his brothers and they opened the other tents. Sonia and Tik came out, both holding their weapons, but Cullen shook his head at them and Tik sheathed his sword, trusting Cullen completely.
Aki, Fox and Roarr came out of another tent and the men around them drew back in wonder. The leader looked again at the woman with him and Cullen thought they must lead together or she’s a trusted advisor.
“Do you recognize my friends?” Cullen asked, seeing them stare at the elves.
“They look like our enemies, but different, lighter in complexion. Who are you people?”
Cullen slowly stood, keeping his hand well away from his weapon.
“My name is Cullen; these are my brothers, Gwydion, Gwaelod and Tris’tan. The elf is Aki, the Dwarf is Roarr, the Spriggan is Fox.” Cullen pointed at each person as he said their names. “The humans are Sonia, Tik and Anton. The last is a Priest in my country. We came from the mountains on the other side of this sandy place.”
“You crossed the desert?” the leader said in alarm.
“Is that what it’s called? A desert?” Cullen asked, sounding out the word.
“Yes. We saw a great flash of light last night and we came to see what it was. We found a dead wyrm and your tracks. We followed you here to see who you are.”
“We are what you see,” Cullen answered. “Humans and Faeries together as friends. You said your enemies look similar. Are you talking about the Host?”
“Yes,” the man growled, hating the word. “The Host. They came and enslaved my people. If you are familiar with them, what does that make you? Friend or foe?”
“We are true enemies of the Host. We came to find your people and try to help. If you’ll let us, I think that we can try.” Cullen held out his hand to the leader.
The man waited a moment, then reached up and removed the scarf. His skin was a deep brown like wood and his beard was black and kinky. He greased it so it shined but his teeth were bright white.
“We shall give you a chance. You will tell us your story and then we’ll see.” He reached out and shook Cullen’s hand. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Cullen smiled and shook firmly.
“First tell us how you killed the wyrm!” one of the other men called.
“My Sword has great power,” Cullen answered looking at the man. “As does my Shield, my Horn, her Bow and his Sword,” Cullen explained pointing out the various Creations.
“We have been hunted by the wyrm since we came to live in the desert,” the leader said. “But never have we seen one destroyed like that.”
“What is your name?” Cullen asked.
“Ah yes, my name is Abd Alaziz and this is Fakhri,” he gestured towards the woman. “We lead what’s left of the Xho, the Lost People.”
“I am happy to meet you and wish to hear your story as well.”
“Then come!” Abd said cheerfully. “Break down your camp and come to ours. We can trade stories and see what we can do for each other. You may have powerful weapons, but you clearly don’t know how to live in the desert!”
Cullen laughed and turned to help pack up. Within the hour they were walking along the wall, escorted by these strange dark skinned men and woman, walking to another camp hidden in the desert.
When they reached this second camp, Cullen was amazed at the yurts they had constructed, especially when Abd told him they could be broken down and moved quite quickly. They were round huts made of wood and canvas, but furnished like homes inside, with beds and table and chairs.
They had strange animals with them to help them move everything, tall beasts with long necks and humps in the middle of their backs. They had dropping eyelids and dropping lips and sat munching some kind of desert bush where they were tried up.
More women and children and a few old folk came out of the camp to greet Abd and his warriors. Soon the camp settled into its normal routine and Cullen and his group were invited into the largest yurt where Abd could hold court.
Fakhri made a drink for them that was strong and bitter but gave them good energy as they sipped it. Cullen took a seat on the floor of the yurt amongst heaps of pillows, sitting across from Abd in a comfortable setting.
Cullen explained that he was a warrior from the other side of the mountains and that he had a dream that told him to come and face his enemies the Host. He told Abd that the Host had come to his land and tried to pit the other Faeries against man, but Cullen had instead befriended the other Faeries and united to fight against the Host.
They fought a great battle for three days and lost many men, but eventually they pushed the Host back and defeated them. Since then, the land had been peaceful and the relationship between Faery and man had been a good one.
“It’s a fantastic story you tell young man, but I sense truth in your words. Plus you walk with legends rarely seen and carry powerful weapons so I must believe you.”
“Please tell us what happened here in your land,” Cullen asked.
“We call our continent Durza, and there are four peoples that live in this vast land. There is the Zingarians, the Xincians, the Choss and us, the Xho. We all had separate Kingdoms, ruled by our own people and there was relative peace among everyone.”
“Until we were attacked!” Fakhri said with venom in her voice.
“When I was just a boy, the Host attacked all three of our castles and they killed my father and the other three men that ruled this land,” Abd explained, his voice thick with emotion. “My parents were killed but I was smuggled out and taken to the desert, back with the local tribes of nomads that still lived out here.”
“Where did the Host come from?” Tik asked, fearing he already knew the answer.
“They came from underground, tunneling up into our cities and even the castle itself!” Abd answered. Tik nodded having guessed just that. “Since then, for forty years, they have enslaved our people and no one has tried to help us.”
“Most of the Xho still live in the cities, living in the poor sections of the city in squalor. Others live out here in the desert where the Host seems reluctant to go. The cities still have trade just as they always did, but the Host added a new feature that none had ever seen before.”
Cullen nodded, motioning for the man to continue.
“They started Gladiator fights, pitting my people against each other in a ring, fighting to the death! It’s horrible but we have been unable to organize enough of our people to do anything about it!”
“We came to help Abd, and I think we can. Do you have anything that could help against the Host, some weapon or idea that would work against them?”
Abd and Fakhri exchanged a look. Abd nodded to her and when she hesitated, he said, “Go ahead, I trust them.”
“We have kept a secret from them and from all other countries around us. We are alchemists and we can make explosives.”
“You’ve lost me,” Cullen said, “What’s an explosive?”
“Perhaps we should just show them,” Fakhri said. Abd smiled and nodded again. Fakhri motioned for them all to follow her and she led them away from the camp, further down the wall.
She showed them a place to stand to watch and the whole groups stood by waiting to see what she would do. She showed them a small container that held some kind of liquid. She added a little cup of clay and poured another liquid into that cup and placed the cup on top of the container. She placed the whole contraption against the wall and walked back to where everyone stood.
“Give it just a moment, for the acid to eat through the clay,” she said, smiling and watching the wall.
A few minutes later there was a tremendous explosion and black smoke erupted from the container where there was a burst of fire and noise. When the smoke cleared is was easy to see that she had blasted a hole in the wall where the small container had been.
“We have many different kinds of explosives, but that give you an idea,” she said proudly.
Cullen stood in amazement looking at the large hole in the giant wall. Tik was grinning in excitement and Sonia was alarmed. The Faeries looked at each other in wonder and a little bit of fear. These humans were good at destroying things.

***

Idylls perched on the edge of the balcony over looking a garden. She had overheard two humans talking in hushed tones and she wanted to listen in on what they were saying. The man was dressed in common wide bottom pants and short boots, with a worn shirt made of linen.
The woman was wearing a dress that had seen better days and a blouse that used to be white. She had long curly hair and she was holding the man’s hands while pleading with him.
“Please Razir, we can run away into the desert! They say the King lives out there with the nomads and we can have a life!”
The man gripped the woman and pulled her in for an embrace.
“I can’t not go, if they find me missing, they’ll go after my friends, my neighbors, anyone I knew! I can’t bring that on other people Fakshi, I just can’t!”
“But why did they pick you to replace the last one?” she begged, “You don’t know anything about service to royals!”
“I don’t know why I was chosen, but I was and now I must go. I will see you tonight, at our place. Look for me there!”
“If they don’t kill you,” she whined, turning away from him to weep. Idylls gathered that he had been chosen for some work in the castle and the woman feared he would die or be chosen for the Games, which in truth, was quite likely.
She wondered at human emotion. She had seen enough of it to understand the basics, but in her world, there was no love or caring or sacrifice. In the Hive there was ambition and drive, life or death. Humans seemed complicate, but she wondered at what it must be to love, to care so much about another person that you would gladly die for them. She had seen humans leap in front of a blade to buy a few more minutes for a victim.
She slid back off the balcony as she heard the door open. Her mother strode into the room, occupying the space wholly with her dark energy.
“Idylls! Its time for you to do your duty for the Hive,” she commanded. “Go now, they are expecting you!”
Idylls bowed gracefully and walked through the door into the hallway. She walked down the hallway, past working humans that cleaned the castle endlessly, and took a flight of stairs down into another hall. Then she followed that hall into a large room that had the floor torn out and stairs in place.
Those stairs led her into the tunnels underneath the castle. She reached under her clothing and pulled out the small globe that her mother had given her to practice her magic with.
She said the words of power and blew gently against the globe. Smoke poured free and took shape beside her as two humanoid shadows with sharp talons. They were larger than she, and they drifted behind her to guard her as was their purpose.
She walked down the stairs into a tunnel that carried her deeper underground into the warren of passageways that were scattered under the city. There was only one tunnel that led from the castle to the warren, since undermining the city would cause collapse, but once she was under the building, the tunnels spread out into different chambers that the Hive used.
The only light in the tunnels and caves was glowing lichen and mushrooms that coated the walls and ceiling. Idylls had inherited the sharp eyes of her kind and she could see perfectly in the dark. The shadows that guarded her vanished however to anyone but her. Because she created them, she could still see and direct them.
The castle was often mostly empty unless the Queen was dealing with the human population in some way. Hive warriors lived in the castle and patrolled the city, keeping a strong presence to make sure the human knew who held the power still, but in the tunnels underneath, it was often much busier.
Idylls passed warriors going up to the surface and young Sisters that were walking towards their different tasks. Idylls duties were to oversee both the young males compete and the older males compete to be breeding partners to the chosen Sisters.
She didn’t enjoy either task. Watching the young fighters fight the creatures that the Fae controlled in death-matches seemed cruel to both the creature and the young boys. And watching men beat each other for the right to mate with one of the Sisters seemed wrong to her as well.
She had heard humans speak about an emotion called love, but she didn’t understand it. She knew that it was used to help humans choose a mate, but it seemed elusive, even to them.
She knew she was supposed to be watching for males that she wanted to mate with, to form her own Hive within the Hive, because one day, she would have to kill her mother and the Sisters that owed allegiance to her, so that she could rule her own Hive.
None of that appealed to her however. She wanted freedom from those responsibilities instead. She wanted to watch and learn new things, maybe even learn about what made humans so different from herself. This was her secret desire, to be free to choose a different life, one that wasn’t surrounding by death and war.
She finally reached the chamber she was headed for, a large cave that had a similar setting like the Pit in the city. She stood high up overlooking the chamber from a separate passage and could see the young boys lined up with their chosen weapons. On the other side of the chamber were older Fae, holding on to wild creatures, some spiders and centipedes and two large scorpions.
Idylls waved her hand for the action to begin and the first boy stepped forward. He was tall and lean and carried two swords, held tightly in his scaled hands. He wore only a loincloth and no armor for this fight.
This was the age when the boys had to fight alone. They had learned fighting in groups, and been taught teamwork and cooperation, but now, at this age, they were separated and expected to meet challenges on their own. The last challenge would be fighting against the very boys they grew up with. This practice would ensure that only the strongest survived.
One of the older warriors released the scorpion and it scuttled forward with its spiked tail held high. It was all black, just like the boy but its carapace gleamed in the glow of the lichen that covered the walls.
The boy ran forward, eager to fight and prove himself, especially since a young Queen-in-waiting was watching. Idylls knew many eyes were on her, some watching for her to betray herself, some watching for a chance to kill her, and others watching to see if they could align themselves with her.
The young boy danced lightly in front of the beast, and it tried to grab him with its massive claws to pin him down and use its poisoned stinger. The boy blocked each thrust with his swords and tried to get past the big claws.
He had to work quickly before he tired out, because the scorpion had more stamina than he did. Idylls watched carefully as was her duty, even though inside her mind she cringed at the sight. The boy struck the scorpion’s claws again and ran past its side.
He stopped his run and leaped upon the back of the creature and slashed at the tip of the tail. The steel sword was razor sharp and it cut through the pointed tip, shearing off the stinger. Then the boy wrapped his legs around the body and plunged both swords into the creature’s back, killing it and pinning it to the floor.
The other boys were excited by the kill and eager to have their chance. The boy who won pulled his swords free and saluted Idylls with a grin. She moved her head in a short bow to acknowledge his win without giving anything away.
Boys fought creatures of the Underdark and Idylls watched. Some boys died, but most were well trained killers now and they could fight off the different large black animals from the lower caves. But Idylls couldn’t forget that many of these boys would soon be killing each other for the right to live and be called a warrior of the Dark Fae.
After watching young boys fight and die, she had to move to another cavern where older men fought each other for the right to mate. Sisters, who had less power than Queens, but were formidable in their own right, selected males that they wanted to mate with to keep their population high.
A male could apply to become one of a Sister’s mates, but to do so he had to fight the males that already mated with her. It was wrestling and pugilism without any weapons, but often things got brutal and sometimes a male died from the beating.
Idylls was trained to watch such fight and be sure that no one used weapons or poison to outright kill an applicant. Some of the waiting males tried to catch her attention to see if she was starting to collect any Hive members to her own side, but she ignored them all.
After hours of watch fights and judging them fairly, Idylls was tried and wished to go to her own rooms and sleep. She walked back up to the surface and found her chambers in the castle where she preferred to sleep as opposed to living underground. She liked having her window open and feeling the winds come into the room.
She positioned her shadows on either side of her large bed and she snuggled into the sheets to finally get some rest. She found herself thinking about this Chosen One that was coming and wondering how he would affect the Hive.
What kind of creature was he? She couldn’t tell if he was human or Faery from what her mother said, but she hoped she got to see him when he came. It would at least be something new, and possibly exciting.