“Many years ago, about ten kings back, they had an idea to try and carve into the southern parts to find another exit. The work took centuries, only to find that the other end led straight to the sea.”
“Why did the king want to carve tunnels?” I questioned, curious.
“In case you haven’t realised, sprout, my people cannot leave this place, and when they manage to do so, they are brutally murdered. So carving tunnels was seen as the only chance they had to freedom,” he explained with a bitter voice.
That meant that his people lived underground. And had always done so.
“What about the sun?” It was a silly question but the first one that popped into my mind. If they were forced to live underground, how could they see the sun? Cultivate crops?
“You might want to say goodbye to that thought during your stay. Only the soldiers meet the sun during battle, and it usually turns out to be the last thing they see.”
“But—” I wanted to ask yet Rhylan stole the words from my mouth with his answer.
“How do these people live? How do they raise their children? How do they see the stars and the rainbows? I’ll make it simple for you, princess, they don’t. So while you’re here, you might wanna keep your stories about flying through clouds or taking photos in a bathing suit to a minimum.”
Rhylan continued to head downwards, following intricate tunnels and shifting quickly to the left or right, the fact that he`d done this a million times before poignantly obvious.
“You said there’ll be soldiers,” I questioned while struggling to follow his rapidly increasing pace.
“Did you not see enough of them?” he huffed.
“I didn’t see any,” I replied with a pant, struggling to follow him when thankfully, Rhylan stopped and turned, giving me a chance to breathe.
“We’ve passed about a hundred so far,” he took the time to look at me and scan me from head to toe, to make sure I wasn't having another low blood sugar crisis.
“Where? We’ve only passed corridors with statues and torches, I protested.
Rhylan grinned abruptly, all his worry dissipating in a second.“Those were the soldiers,” he offered with an understanding smile.
“What?” I replied in shock. “No, those were statues, they were white!” To get technical, the statues we passed looked more on the grey colour scheme than pure white but I attributed that to the darkness and settled dust.
“Most beings have ashen skin here. There is no sun, princess,” he spoke as though he’d received the gold medal and I, only an award for participating, but he did manage to make my mouth drop slightly.
Of course. If the people didn't see the sun, their skin could not produce melanin. And if they were born inside this place, they would lose their skin colour through generations.Rhylan must have seen the realisation on my face because he asked, “Ready to meet the king?”
“What? No!” I stopped and grabbed Rhylan’s wrist, making him turn to me once again and capturing his attention. “You said you are going to take me to see Ansgar. That's why I'm here. I’m not interested in meeting any kings or visiting this god’s forsaken place. Take me to Ansgar, now!” I adopted my most fearsome tone and hoped it would have the desired effect.
What I saw in Rhylan at that moment made me realise every shred of control I thought I had in this relationship had only been a ruse to keep me in line and possibly, keep him entertained. His pupils widened and stretched out the darkness of his eyes, so bleak that it might have enveloped the entire passageway and sucked out the light. His generally snarky smirk turned into a grim curl of his lips, teeth bared. The exact embodiment of that I had first come to know in the forest, the deep voice that attacked me with no mercy and showed no sign of compassion. A being forged by fire and pain, with no remorse.
“Princess, you and I need to have a very serious talk and we need to have it quickly.” To my surprise, Rhylan abandoned his elegant composure and grabbed both my shoulders, sliding me onto the tunnel wall and sticking me into the mud as if I were an unwanted portrait. His hands grabbed at my skin, reached within my bones, and kept me from moving, forcing my full attention to stagnate on his face.
“You have entered the oldest faerie kingdom, the most dangerous and ruthless one, where the beings will show you no mercy or give you a chance to rectify even a glint of those silly things you constantly do or say. And I will not be able to protect you all the time.” He stopped and looked towards my trembling lips, my shaking features, and the tears that suddenly felt the need to sprout from my eyes. “Nor will I want to,” he added.
I forced myself to calm down, urging my body not to show him that I was scared, that he had that power over me. It must have been useless because he looked at me with pitiful eyes and continued my induction. “The king and queen decide everyone’s fate, and if they give you an order, you will not remain alive unless fulfilled. There is no room for negotiation, talks, or more time, you will do as commanded and speak with the utmost respect your vocabulary is capable of. Otherwise, you will not reach Ansgar, because you will be long dead.”
My body did not pick a worse moment to start shivering. I did not know if caused only by his words or by the accumulation of cold damp seeping into my skin, but one thing was clear, my muscles could not hold the tension any longer, and decided to release it at the exact moment Rhylan finished his threat. I wondered what had I gotten myself into and more importantly, how could I get out, because this new Rhylan, this Fear Gorta, the embodiment of pain and suffering, as he liked to describe himself, was a completely new character who understood no reason and did not seem to want to accommodate any feelings of friendship towards me.
“You are in my home now, and you will play your part,” Rhylan finished speaking and removed his hands from me, wiping a bit of mud from his finger on my jacket. Rhylan casually continued walking down the corridors, without acknowledging my presence or uttering a single word, so the only choice I had was to follow him and see where this road lead me.
I did not have much choice, did not know how to get out of there nor knew anyone who could help, so my safest bet was to continue with Rhylan until I found Ansgar and pass him the dagger I kept hiddenin the very uncomfortable corset I wore underneath my white t-shirt. White with specks of mud, thanks to Rhylan’s new design.
My steps followed in place and I remained close to Rhylan. This time I kept my distance, wanting to avoid another one of these abrupt anger fits and I kept my mouth shut, not wanting to provoke him further. He did not seem to mindand continued walking, though I spotted him stopping or turning from time to time to ensure I caught up or that I remained safe behind him.
Now that I became aware of their existence, I took longer to study the soldiers we passed, their ashen skin and rough features, the leather armour and iron spikes they wore at specific parts of the suit. Armour designed specifically to wound the other faeries, I’d come to realise by the seventh soldier we passed. The iron spikes on their forearms, elbows, shoulders, and knees had been added to give the fire soldiers easy weapon access in an encounter with the other kinds of fae, who would burn and bleed at the touch.
Initially, I experienced a sentiment of pity towards them, at the understanding that they lacked the beauty of the outside world, that they had been banished generation after generation and their bodies had to develop accordingly to live underground. I felt sad to think about people who would not see the sun or a flower throughout their lives, that they would not have picnics or see fireworks or look at the moon at night, but watching these soldiers, the sheer strength and brutality their stance carried, sadness made way for terror.
They had taken the time to evolve into killing machines, trained for war with the sole purpose of revenge. And judging by their armour and the death glares they shared with me, the word ‘compassion’ did not exist in their vocabulary.
