Tiyan slept that night. With deep slumber, his nightmares gave way to the horror of life and retreated like rats from a sinking ship.
When he awoke, the morning was still hiding from the sun, the trees bathed in a faint darkness. The village slept, their dreams haunted by something he had to face in a wake.
He was still only partially ready to leave. He was no hero, never had been. For the mercy of the goddess, even hunting an anglor was an effort for him, not to mention other, more dangerous animals. But deep down, he knew that if he didn’t go, Mina would lose her soul – forever, with no chance of return, in any form, in any way. And the fairies would come for him, one way or another. He didn’t have the luxury to run away, to hide in cowardice. He would begin to despise himself, eventually.
Mina needed him. She trusted him, surely, and his absence would shatter her, and he would never forgive himself. He was at the point of no return. And he couldn’t even look back.
Every time he looked back, he saw horrors.
The village was still asleep when he left. He didn’t have many possessions, nothing he would need on his way to the realm of the Fae. He equipped himself with bronze weapons and hid an iron dagger in his boot, just in case. He would not show himself in Ain’asel without the slightest and most ridiculous advantage. He took the sack and filled it with warm clothes. He knew he couldn’t sleep in the snow. The inns weren’t working any more, but even an abandoned inn offered a moderately warm place to spend the night, and maybe even things left behind by the departing or the dead.
But warm clothing was always needed, the winter was harsh, enchanted, pure and dangerous, just like the hearts of the Fae.
He took the herbs too. Tinder too. There might be some dry hay in the abandoned building, or a cave that could be filled with branches, perfect for kindling. He didn’t have to worry about water, the humans had learned to drink it from the winter itself, even if there was a slight fear that the enchanted snow might affect their organisms.
Tiyan didn’t want to go, but he was already crossing the threshold – the house seemed empty and dead. His old life, hard as it had been, was over. Now he had to fight, to rip any future out of Ain’asel’s throat.
No one had ever made a map of the fey realm. But he knew which way to go, and he hoped that the promised will-o’-the-wisps would be present to show him a more detailed path.
Korr walked slowly towards him. Tiyan would want him at his side. But he knew that the Fae would use him against him, harm him or simply kill him.
“Go. Find Noyd. I can’t take you with me. I don’t want you to suffer.
The dog’s brown eyes looked at him, not blaming, but confused and lost. Tiyan had never told him to leave.
Now he only saw mist, normal, everyday mist, not enchanted. It filled him with a strange peace.
Inamora, ordinary, untouched by fairies. As in long lost days…
The boundary between the forest and the village was marked by a huge dolmen standing near the gentle stream, with a small wooden bridge that swung from side to side. As if through a fog, he remembered how Gravir Markon had built it so that the children could throw bread to the fish. It was life before the darkness, before the Fae, when he was too young. Before his own baptism of blood, during the last and only battle between humans and Unseelie, in which he lost his innocence and his hope that he was good. That he was a good man at all.
Do not think about it. Do not turn back, there are monsters.
He felt the new resignation creep in, fuelled by memories. Do not think. The past is long gone. He stood in place, fixed the light bag on his shoulders and aimed for the bridge, to enter the forest. The main road would only lead more or less in the right direction once he passed the forest. Then he could look for the dancing fires.
“Tiyan… Tiyan!”
Oh.
No.
Please, no.
“Tiyan…” he thought at first that Noyd was watching him and his house to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid. But he saw a bucket of snow and understood that she was collecting it to boil at home. Korr tangled up between her legs, not knowing where to go.
“Noyd…”
“Are you going hunting?”
“More or less.”
She looked behind him and saw the packed bag, narrowing her eyes.
“You’re leaving,” it was more of a statement than a question, disappointment painted on her face.
“I must. I should have left before my family died.”
“It won’t change anything,” her curls slipped from the warm hat and fell on her forehead, a fox child, reddish like autumn. “You always leave when you should stay. I was hoping now…”
“They have Mina,” he cut her off, and her catlike green eyes opened wider, a gleam of understanding creeping into her features.
“How do you know?”
“One of them came to see me at night. She wanted me to go and save her.”
Noyd shook her head, incredulous at his stupidity.
“You know it’s a trap?” another rhetorical question.
“Of course it’s a trap,” he laughed bitterly. “But do I have a choice?”
Noyd looked at him for a moment, as if engraving his features in her mind, remembering what he looked like, or just trying to look into his soul to see how much of it was desperation and how much was courage.
“No. You don’t,” she said finally.
Tiyan didn’t want to look into her eyes, but when he did, he saw something new in them. Worry. Fear. And all of it mixed with pride and relief.
“Don’t let them kill you.”
“I’ll try not to let them kill us both.”
“When you return…”
“When I return…”
She looked at him again, intensely. And walked over to him, hugging his neck with her arms.
“If you return. Promise me.”
She moved closer, almost afraid. Doubtful. As if she didn’t know if it was the right time, if it was right. But she kissed him passionately, one last kiss before the war.
“I promise,” he murmured into her mouth. Inhaling her scent of mint and old herbs. Of the fireplace. And safety.
I promise. I will try. But I don’t know. So much I don’t know.
His eyes filled with unwanted tears, her chest pressed tightly against his own. Her hands in his hair. And her tongue in his mouth. And a promise that bound them together again.
