Join me in night painted with crimson and black.

When Mina appeared in the open doorway, Tiyan could only hear the clanking of his bindings in absolute, stale silence. She was in one piece, wearing a blue dress, her hair pinned up, brown swirls falling in a thick cascade on her shoulders. She never wore dresses, not in Venklann Valey. All the girls in Inamora wore pants to protect themselves from the cold. Mina, in her dress, looked much more grown up. Out of place. As in the fey realm, she grew older and distanced herself from Tiyan with a barrier of silk.

His whole being longed to touch her, to see if she didn’t have hidden wounds, to hold her… and to feel that his life had a meaning again. His heart was shattered and rebuilt, all in three seconds, when Mina entered the room. He looked for trembling arms, fear in her eyes, something that would confirm his suspicions… but she stepped firmly, without hesitation. She was not afraid.

And now she saw him as he was. Bound, naked, covered in blood. His desperate concern for her and his hopeless joy at seeing her again couldn’t erase the feeling that he must look pitiful, and that alone would make Mina lose all hope that he could save her.

But Mina… was not afraid. She smiled.

She came closer, the horned woman leading her by the hand – like her own child. Mina’s eyes were joyful. As if nothing had happened, ever.

“Tiyan!” she finally exclaimed, but with a slight hesitation. A second between her words and the embrace around his neck… but Tiyan saw it. She hugged him, her small hands wrapped around his broad shoulders, pressing him against her small chest. Tiyan felt his world become brighter, fuller… but also… strangely hollow.

She planted a kiss on his blood-stained cheek.

And he couldn’t even return the hug, even though his hands were itching to hold her, his soul was tearing out to embrace her and show… what?

That he wasn’t useless. That he could save her.

That he was more than just a piece of flesh to be used by the Fae.

But her eyes showed true, unadulterated joy. How could that be real? A terrible, horrible thought crept into his mind, leaving bloodstains. It ate away at his sanity, leaving coal in its wake.

“Mina…” his voice was hoarse. Her forehead touched his, as they did at home. A silent gesture of understanding, love and connection.

Brother and sister. Inseparable.

“I am here, Tiyo,” she stroked his hair. Her smile… was plastered on her face. Not real. She called him Tiyo. Like in the old days, when he played with her with wooden toys and when he read her books. About knights and dragons. About adventures and heroic deeds. Not perfect times… but much more innocent. Mina was three when the Fae arrived. She didn’t remember those times, when life was counted in seasons and spring and summer still licked the trees with gold and green.

But Tiyan remembered.

“Did they…”

“No, Tiyo. They did not harm me.”

“If they had…”

“They didn’t. King Lorian has always been kind to me.”

That simple sentence hit him like a fallen tree dying under the lumberjack’s axe. Tiyan looked into her eyes to see if they were silently begging him to save her, to show that she was lying because they had ordered her to. But no. She was like… a doll. A pretty child doll, happy to see her brother. Her dress and pinned hair weren’t the only thing that separated her from him.

“Did he do this to you?” her voice was honestly curious. “He must have had a reason. He fed me delicious fruit and gave me beautiful clothes. You see?” she whirled around, sweeping the cloth over Tiyan’s outstretched arms.

“Yes, he did that to me,” he said bitterly. “Surely he had a good reason.”

“The Fae palace is filled with wonders,” Mina continued, unsparing. “And King Lorian allowed me to watch him punish escaped slaves.”

“Oh…”

“They are eaten by the trees. Have you ever seen anything so fascinating?”

Yes. Too often.

“What have you done with her?” he growled at the horned woman. His fists curled furiously. They enchanted her. Made her lose her mind for kind King Lorian and his grace. He showed her murdered people.

And took away her will.

That was worse than her death. That was the end of all things. For her. For him.

“She is the same Mina our hunters brought here. Same flesh, same blood… same eyes and mouth. Same beautiful hunger for life,” the woman’s smile was as innocent as Mina’s.

“What have you done to her mind!” Tiyan almost roared. The chains sang around him, clanking with melodic sound.

“She asked for it,” both Mina and the horned woman fixed their eyes on him. He felt as if those eyes were sucking the air out of his lungs. “She made a deal with my lord. But she forgot many words… and did not add many conditions…”

The woman was having way too much fun. Tiyan’s muscles worked furiously under his skin. They destroyed her. They took her away from him before she could even see her.

“Tiyo… are you alright?”

No, he wasn’t all right. He was furious, angry. And seething.

Like a furnace, his face turned red from the effort to break the chain and close his hands on this woman’s throat. Order her to offer him a solution, how to get Mina back. His muscles ached, his lungs seemed to stretch in his chest.

He wanted to be free. Even if they would kill him later. He longed for a chance, even more than when he had been used by Lorian. Mina. His only goal. His only family.

Someone he was afraid to stand up for. Because he never had a spine of iron.

Tears rushed to his eyes, fueled by anger and fear. Mina said something. The woman watched him with interest in her eyes.

We see your pain. We see your struggle. But you are where we wanted you to be. With your flame. With the power we offered you. That we have awakened. You are here to break the chains. To open our eyes. To give us the refection we can’t wait to consume.

The flames blossomed in his veins, this time not blowing around him in a storm of fire, but burning within him, fueling his hopeless rage. Overwhelming him with a hundred small fires that burned beneath his heated skin.

The chain broke.

The binding that held him by the neck fell to the bed.

Tiyan’s skin smoked, like coals. Gray smoke. The hair on his forearms stood up, moving as if under water.

“Oh, Tiyo… I didn’t know you could do that,” Mina smiled.

Tiyan threw once more. This was not the way. If he wants to help his sister, he can’t act like a beaten prey or a wild animal. He had to plan. As mad as it sounded.

“He won’t like that you broke the chain,” the horned woman shook her head, disappointed.

“Maybe bring another one,” Tiyan grinned. He felt so tired, but the small realization that all is not lost until he breathes again brought him an unexpected peace.

No matter what they do to him, as long as he lives, as long as Mina lives… it’s not the end.

And death won’t come so soon.

The woman’s eyes bored into him… beautiful blue, intense azure.

She had no aura. No will of the fey, she couldn’t force him on his knees.

And she was a human.

He stirred, his mind not fully connecting. His limbs were dripping with blood. The moan that escaped his mouth was painful, but weak as a breeze from the forest. His body still burned with inner flames, his muscles aching.

He tried to move, but he was chained to the bed in an uncomfortable position, his back bent. The golden chain that bound him was stained with his own blood. He struggled weakly against his bonds, but only managed to tighten the collar around his neck. He had foreseen this. He wanted him to remain obedient in one place, like a good slave.

What did you think? That you would show up here, challenge the Fae? Take your sister and escape, like heroes in old books? That your flame would not be the capricious force it always was, helping you to defeat the enemy that subjugated your entire land?

This is reality. And reality never favours… … the weak.

His rear pulsed with pain, he felt it full of dry blood. He remembered how the shadows had entered him with Lorian. They ate the flesh inside him while the fey king fucked him. And Tiyan… begged for more, painfully, truly wanting all he was given.

You are a fool, Tiyan Markon. Your naivety has led you further into the maw of enchanted horror. Every minute, every hour, every day. Until it was too late… The chains rattled as he tried to sit down. Eventually it became impossible – he felt as if his whole backside was full of thorns, tearing him apart.

He felt so much hatred.

So much… disgust. Not just for the Fae. He was disgusted with himself.

For he longed for what had happened that night. And he hated both the Fae and his weakness. He didn’t know what was Lorian… and what was his own will. He couldn’t decipher his desires. He couldn’t decipher what he feared and what he craved for.

You cannot want this.

But you do.

With blood smeared all over his body, he had never felt so soiled. With his mind and will ravaged and taken from him, he had never felt more used.

With his body, he gave away his pride, everything he had left. He hated that feeling even more than he hated the sight of his mother being eaten by the Bean Sidhe. And he despised that too.

It made his skin crawl to think that it was only the first time and that this was the way his life would be from now on. But that was not what they needed him for. If Lorian wanted a fuck toy, he could take anyone – willing or not. He needed him for something Tiyan couldn’t understand.

And he sensed that it was nothing joyful.

Nothing beautiful.

His mouth was as dry as desert sand, but there was no food or water left for him. He wasn’t even hungry, but his thirst was immense, as if the flames he was burning with were evaporating all the water from him. His mind whirled in a manic dance. What if he was being held for entertainment, a cruel and very sophisticated game being played with a mortal with a strange power the Fae were interested in? What if… Mina was dead before he appeared here? What if Lorian – playful as all Fae are – chose him to drive him mad?

No. That couldn’t be true.

He had his power for a reason. But he still couldn’t know if he possessed it to save himself – or to fulfil the wishes of the Unseelie.

He wasn’t even washed after… that happened. But the fairies were so obsessed with him being washed in contact with their king that they would surely bring the hose back… and make sure it didn’t leave a stain.

To please even more.

Tiyan clenched his fists in an impotent gesture. He was powerless, yes. But he had to remember who he was. Tiyan Markon, son of Gravir and Alina. Brother of Mina. Nothing they could do would truly subdue him. But the fear was stronger than the anger. He couldn’t imagine what awaited him… and if he would be strong enough to stay sane afterwards.

Shadows… penetrating him… hardening him… licking him from the inside out, leaving wounds he adored…

The door opened. Tiyan tensed, his limbs turning hard as stone.

But it was not fairies.

A woman entered his room. With a bowl in her hand.

A human. A human woman.

But no. Her forehead was crowned with pale horns the color of her skin. And a tail, also pale, waving gently behind her.

Her steps were so smooth, as if she were floating in the air, almost as if she had invisible wings that carried her in his direction.

Tiyan crept back as she approached. Her laughter at his movement was both soft and sharp.

“Yes. I don’t look like one of us. That’s a reason to be afraid.”

She placed a bowl in front of him. Farther away than the chain would allow.

“Drink.”

Tiyan looked at her with a mixture of anger, shame and fear. Her ears were round, she was no Fae. But her voice was not that of a human prey. She enjoyed his helplessness.

“How,” he rasped.

“Be creative,” the woman’s lips curled into a broad smile. “I have been, all my life. Maybe you can live longer that way. Not as long as me. But… long enough.”

Tiyan felt his heart quicken.

He lowered his head to reach the dish. He stretched his arms, his neck, his whole body to reach it. It was only millimetres too far. He was thirsty, but not so much that he would hurt himself to reach the water.

After a few attempts he gave up.

“Lorian told me you were going to be spectacular,” she mused. “And you definitely are.”

“You’re here because he told you to torment me with the promise of water?” his voice was laced with irony mixed with resignation. Does it even matter?

“No, I am here because I have brought you a gift,” her hand reached for his face, and before he could protest, the fingers closed over his cheeks. The woman’s face came closer, very close. He felt his muscles tense even more, instinctively preparing for something cruel.

But the woman… only inhaled his scent. Her fingers cupped his cheeks. She seemed lost for a small moment, but Tiyan caught a glimpse of something in her… a tiny moment which revealed her suffering.

“You smell of vermilion, of late autumn. But your face is… a sound of hard rock, warmed by the sun, giving the water in the afternoon.”

Tiyan looked at her incredulously as she tugged the chain around his neck.

“Lorian wants me to give you a message,” her smile, on her round, full face, was somehow beautiful. As if it shone with inverted light, painted with well-concealed pain. “Your sister is alive…”

Tiyan still looked at her, petrified.

“… and is very keen to see you.”

“Where is she?” Tiyan lost his composure, staggered again, trying helplessly to reach the woman, but she moved away, quickly and delicately. Like a Fae.

“She is behind this door. I brought her here so you can see for yourself. She is very well fed and very happy that you are here, among us. No one has harmed her. My lord keeps his word.”

Tiyan’s gaze nearly shattered the door to his chamber.

He wanted so badly to see that all his worries were a lie of his own mind. That it was producing horrors and cruel visions.

The woman called her name, Mina’s name – he heard it for the first time in long months.

He wanted to see Mina, safe and unharmed.

He wanted to see her, hold her, tell her he had come to save her.

And he did.