He opened the door, the chilly wind blew into the room with a deft gust and danced in the fireplace, causing the fire to sway like a living creature.
He felt exhausted and the fear was taking its toll, his whole body was tense and aching, his muscles tired and sore. But he had the kill, he had the meat, even if he would have to cut more rotting meat from it, making the portions smaller. He would feed the family, and that was what mattered most.
He threw the sack on the floor and quickly closed the door so that more cold air wouldn’t take away the warmth of the room.
“Tiyan!”
“Mina,” he smiled softly, and a small bundle of legs and arms and cloth attacked him with a vicious strength. Mina laughed, she could still laugh, and whenever she did, his world became a little better. Even though she was undernourished, she found the good in everything, as only a child could. He regretted that his childhood, even this weak substitute for it, was taken from him on the battlefield. Even if it had taught him many things – but not necessarily good ones. The sight of his eleven-year-old sister, so thin and yet full of a strange optimism that he didn’t share, made his heart ache and taught him that not even cruelty can completely destroy the spark.
“You brought the food,” Mina said, already checking the sack. “Eh, Anglor again?”
“Sadly, yes,” he said in a tired voice, walking in, his feet carrying him closer to the fireplace. “They are the easiest prey, despite their weight and sharp teeth.”
Mina took the sack and carried it into the kitchen.
“Mum, Tiyan brought rotten meat,” she said in an almost playful tone.
A head poked out of the doorway. Alina Markon looked worse than her daughter, though not as thin. Her hair was sparse and white, and her face was torn by a large burn. She had fought in the war, too, and her face was not the only place where she had scars. But the ones that still hadn’t healed were in her soul. Tiyan knew that she had been captured by the lesser folk shortly after the Unseelie had conquered Avras. And that she never wanted to speak of it.
She sniffed the air.
“Anglor?”
Tiyan nodded resignedly. He didn’t know how she did it. Smell. But of course she was right.
“I’ll try to hunt some more, so we have more… variety,” he said, knowing how weakly it sounded.
“If you can’t, don’t try,” she replied, taking the bag from Mina. “You came back too late. The night is dark and full of monsters.”
Oh, Tiyan knew that. He had just met some of them.
Alina disappeared into the kitchen and started to clean the meat from the rest of the rot, Tiyan was grateful that he didn’t have to do it now. He felt his muscles relax and the worst of the tension leave him. He sat down in his favourite chair and let his body sink into it, feeling safe for the first time today.
Even if he wasn’t.
Mina sat down as well, watching him with narrowed eyes. Her eyebrows always seemed out of place on her tiny, ethereal face – thick, long and black as coal.
“You’re all torn,” she finally said, and he realised she meant his ragged clothes. Or not. “The Anglor fought hard?”
“No… not really,” he sighed. “He was just heavy. And of course claws, they were everywhere.”
“You’re scared, Tiyan,” Mina had to be so observant now of all times.
Was that so visible? He fell even harder into the chair, not wanting to talk about it. He really was afraid. If the small folk were after him now, they could all be in peril. And as much as he hated lying to his family; he had exposed them on cruel danger. He selfishly hoped though that he wouldn’t have to leave the village, like everyone else who had been touched by the fairies’ attention. He naively believed that his family could protect him. He closed his eyes and allowed himself not to think.
Mina stopped being curious. You can tell when a case is lost.
Not to think at all. That was what saved him. But it won’t save him again. The fey have already thanked him for his curtsy and will now simply move on to whatever vicious game they have in mind for him.
When Tiyan opened his eyes again, the meat was already cooked, and the smell of moss, mixed with the few spices they had, filled the room.
Tiyan’s father, Gravir, was already sitting at the table, boots in mud and snow, his gaze fixed on his son in a way that was far more intrusive than Mina’s curious eyes. Gravir Markon always tried to amortize any shock his family might experience, but he never lied to them. Tiyan, on the other hand… was used to keeping his thoughts to himself, never sharing any of his struggles with them, sometimes not even telling them the truth. To the point that Mina never believed him when he said he felt well enough, and his mother would look at him with a knowing stare if something looked even slightly out of the ordinary.
Tiyan didn’t have to wait long before Gravir said.
“You met the fairies.”
“Yes, father.”
There was no need to lie. After all, it was not his family’s fault.
“They didn’t kill you.”
“No.”
“So they want something from you,” was his father’s grave reply.
“How do you know that?” Tiyan wanted to know that at least.
“Alina felt them on you.”
Ah, his mother. Her … “gift”. Something she didn’t want to talk about either. Tiyan was almost sure it had something to do with her time in captivity, so… he never asked.
“How did you escape them?” Gravir insisted.
“I… I tried the Law of Open Mind.”
“You fool.”
Tiyan swallowed hard. Fool. That’s what he was. Yes, he was one. The small folk will come for him, if not tomorrow, then the next day. Or they will prolong it to give him hope and appear at the least expected moment.
“You have given way to your feelings and memories, you stupid boy. They now know what you fear most… and what you love most. Who you care about. That was a foolish move.”
“Should I let them eat me?” Tiyan suddenly burst out. His father’s gaze darkened, deep brown eyes piercing him to the core.
“Perhaps. Maybe that would be better. Not for us. For you.”
And Tiyan knew it. Gravir was right. His life was touched by the horror, but it was only the beginning.
He would get to know the fear yet. Deeply and painfully.
“Will you send me into the forest?” Tiyan struggled to form the sentence. If the answer was yes, he would be damned in every sense of the word. But at the same time he didn’t want to endanger them. Not mother. And not Mina.
Gravir still looked at him intensely, a visible struggle inside him, fighting for common sense.
“No. No, Tiyan, even if in the eyes of the village I should. But I won’t. You don’t deserve to be exiled just because you didn’t want to be killed.”
“But they can come for you too,” Tiyan said bitterly.
“Nothing that walks this earth is immortal, even if it claims to be. I will fight for my home. And I hope you will too. Exile… is not what I have learned from our situation. We should all stick together, or the fear of the feykind will consume us.
Tiyan thought for a moment that perhaps it was his father who was a fool. But he was grateful for his decision, which came from his heart and not his head.
Alina brought the pot of meat. Mina jumped to the table and sat on her usual place. And Tiyan… Tiyan lost his appetite.