The Sun rolls behind the clouds, reflecting the pink colours of the sakura trees around the court. The petals have covered the ground. The trees are tended to with fae magic - they never go naked, they never lose their shine or beauty, even in the midst of the winter. It's autumn now, though. They shed their flowers, white and rose petals mixing together in the air as they fall. I see one of the fae performing his magic on the tree after tree.
I cannot perform magic. Not on my own, at the very least. But I don't care; I wouldn't use it even if I could. There is only one thing I'd actually use it for, but that thing… it cannot be cured with magic alone.
As I am led to the room assigned to me, I feel my feet become heavier and heavier, the roots of my disease taking toll. I hiss under my breath. It won't be long before I collapse, weighed down by my own fossilizing bones.
"Something matter?" Biela quirks her brow. I just shake my head. "I heard hissing."
I follow her. I don't plan to reveal my weakness, not to the likes of her, or what I'm actually doing here.
I am aware of my sickness. It follows me wherever I go like a parasite I cannot get rid of. It gnaws at my bones, fossilizes them, weighs me down. It's a malicious disease which takes, its scythe not caring whether it slaughters guilty or the innocent. It's called Lapis.
There is no cure for it.
Well, not until I find it, and I for sure plan to.
I walk on, refusing to let it slow me down, though my feet feel like I am dying. It's easier during the night, but I had to wake up early for the past few days because of the competition.
"Do you want to pair up?" Ashee asks me.
"Sure."
We did not pair up. I work alone, and I like it that way. I used to have a crew but… well, just like Lapis, they weigh you down.
"Here we are," Biela says and stops in front the doors. They seem nice, thick wood. I almost salivate. I haven't slept on a proper bed in months, as many months as I have been adventuring. Oh how I miss the soft caress of a lovely proper bed.
"Sure." I nod like I sleep in palaces every day. I open the doors; they don't even creak. Oh now that's fancy.
I am immediately greeted by the sight of a beautiful bed with white sheets, silk covering it. I yearn to just jump on it and wrap myself in the sheets and neeever leave it.
There's a fae making the bed, stretching the silky sheets over the frame. I blink.
"Who's that?" I ask.
"Allure. Your maid. Though I don't think you need one."
Oh she for sure would think I don't. What, am I worse than all those posh lords and ladies?
Allure immediately runs out before I even get a good look at her.
"Yeah, well, I am a royal guard now. Treat me with more respect." I put hands on my hips and look at Biela from high above… though it's not really high above, considering she is at least half a meter taller than me. Bitch. Tall fae always annoyed me. They have this way of looking at us pixies like we are less worthy than them. Well, I don't see myself as such, and I don't plan to let some 'royal adviser' on schooling me either.
I step forward, when she suddenly yanks my hand back.
"The Lord may trust you," she hisses, "but I do not. You are here for a reason and I plan to figure out which. Is that clear?"
"You are a very suspicious fae," I snort and rise my head higher. "What exactly do you find suspicious about me? An adventurer who got tired of sleeping and eating in dirty inns and is looking for a more permanent employment?"
"You know well what you are."
With that, she lets my hand go and takes a step back. I glare at her.
Finally she backs away and heads down the hall and I slam the door behind me. Annoying.
I leap on the bed like a pounce cat and inhale in pleasure as the cold pillow hits my face. Oh that's good.
I roll on my back, spread my wings, flutter them a bit. They are painful and dry. They don't produce enough pixie dust.
Finally I remember: I am starving. To upkeep even this bit of dust that I have, I must eat.
A lot.
Unbelievably lot for a pixie.
"What are you, a garbage can?" Flay asks me as he watches me stuff entire shroomboar into my mouth.
"Ya, what you gonna do about it?"
I get up and open the door to find Allure briskly walking as far away from the doors as she possibly can.
"Hey, maid?"
She immediately turns and bows, a bit frightened. I can imagine that she was not pleased with news of being assigned to a changeling bandit/assassin who apparently bites and steals your teeth or whatever they say about us. Fae can be creative folks when they want to be.
"So, what's there to eat?"
***
My belly full, I fall asleep amidst plates of food. All fae food is covered in fairy dust. Most fae can synthesize it in their bodies. I cannot.
I am a changeling. I was swapped as a child. Born sickly, my parents didn't want me - instead, they cursed me, and swapped me with a human babe. A healthy and beautiful one. Not like my ragged face with a long scar stretching over my eye and cheek, or eyes that sometimes twitch.
I have no idea who my parents were.
But boy, do I want to know.
There's always a reason for revenge. And I believe mine is a good one.
Who leaves a child behind? Do they think I am just some thing they can leave and pick up as needed? No, they left me to face that horrible life on Earth on my own. I started out as a normal toddler.
It was only later when I started seeing my reflection in the mirror change.
My little horns grew. Wings developed. I asked my parents: do you see these things? No, they didn't. They ascribed it to childish imagination, like I was insane for even thinking it. But I could see all those changes.
When fae decide to swap us, they seek help from the Unseelie Court to place a curse on us which would allow us to change shape, so that we wouldn't appear suspicious to humans. Most changelings die quite young anyway. It's impossible to survive without fairy dust which is found in fae food and naturally in their bodies. Kinda like iron.
But oh boy, they underestimated me. Rage keeps me alive and going, and from the moment I figured out what was going on, I made it my mission to get to the fae land. And I succeeded.
Revenge is best served cold? You might as well die while it cools off. Rage powered me.
A changeling is a rare sight in Vilaria, the fae land. For obvious reasons, of course.
License to kill is always in order. We are dangerous, we cannot be trusted… those are all things they say about us, but it's not that far away from the truth. Who wouldn't be like that after being practically abandoned to die or to live in misery?
However, where there is will, there is way - and I found mine.