PHI'S POV
The brutes dragged me inside the fortress. I ended up in one of the thralls' typical houses, with a turf roof and wattle walls. But the inside of the home was shining and golden, much more spacious than what one would have thought from the outside. It had spear-shafts for rafters, a roof thatched with shields, and more doors that I could count. Despite all the splendours, an uneasy smell of raw iron and earth filled the air. A smell of blood, cruelty.
At the end of the great hall stood a high and massive throne with runes I had never seen before carved into its wood. There sat a man with a long red beard. He wore eye-patch over his left eye, giving him a threatening look..
As I draw closer, an uneasy smell of raw iron and earth filled the air. A smell of blood. Synonym of his cruelty.
"At last," he said. "You have kept me waiting, my dear."
He rose from his chair and smirked. His purple mantle licked the floor while he walked around me like a vulture circling its dead prey.
I met his twisted gaze. Disgusting. A one-eyed freak.
"Keep looking at me like this," I growled, "and I will gauge your remaining eye out."
He chuckled.
Sicko.
His thralls held both my arms and, despite my efforts, I could not free myself. My threat did nothing to him.
"I was not aware you were this pretty," he continued. "Many people would have paid a great price to have a bride of such beauty. No wonder he kept you hidden all this time."
"Yeah, well, he is good at that," I replied. Thanks, Dad.
Normally, I would have found the idea of treating someone like property in exchange for money revolting. At that moment, however, it was the fact that my own father and king had been lying to me about who I was, about who he was, that bothered me most.
Wotan's icy gray eyes met my gaze. I felt as if he was trying to pierce through my thoughts. I looked away.
The man was indeed making my blood curdle. He had a livid skin tone, a high forehead, and thin lips that stretched out into a cruel smile.
"My name is Wotan," he said. "I suppose you have heard by now we will soon become man and wife?"
Hah! "I will never consent to that," I replied.
I spit out the words, meaning every word of it, every letter. We both knew that there was no exchange of power if a marriage was not consensual.
Of course, the concept of agreeing to a marriage was loosely defined. A person could be coerced into giving their consent.
But even if he tortures me, I will not give in. Never!
My defiance did not please the Evil King. At his command, the thralls let go of me. I tried to move but could not run or raise a hand to slap him.
I was trapped in my own body. A bird in a cage.
Wotan stepped in closer. I could feel his breath on my neck. I turned my head away and closed my eyes.
"You won't consent yet," he said in my ear. "But you will soon enough."
His mindless beasts took a hold of me again and threw me in a room behind one of the many doors.
I was alone. It was almost a relief. I could not bear being touched and stared at by those monsters. The coarse touch of their skin, their glowing blank eyes, and their heavy paced walk.
I analyzed the room I was in. It was small, but high enough for me to walk upright. It had a straight line of wooden poles on each side and behind it benches or beds covered in skins and furs. Those poor creatures! A fire was crackling in the middle of the room.
The smoke of the fire escaped through a hole in the golden roof right above the pit; through it I could feel a breath of fresh air. A way out.
I spread my wings, realizing I had regained full control of my body. I jumped up, ready to fly away.
A part of me knew this was too easy to work. Why would the king even have bothered to lock me up if I could escape this easily?
My hand touched the opening first and an intense shock went through me.
A shield.
I fell heavily on the ground near the fire. I rolled away from its burning flames before everything went black.
*
When I woke up, the early morning sun was slanting through the hole in the roof. I pulled myself up and blinked a few times. The fire was out and it was still dark; the sun didn't offer enough light to enlighten all the room.
There was a chest in a corner. I went to open it. Inside was a lamp, which I lit up with my magic.
That's the only good magic can do me now.
The chest also had more skins and fabrics. Some dresses and shoes. Nothing of particular interest. I sighed. If yesterday I was relieved I was alone, now I wondered how I would occupy my time.
I distracted myself by throwing some rocks, aiming at the pit. I counted the times I missed, because they were rarer than the times I scored. One . . . two . . . three . . . I threw the rocks without looking to increase the stakes, and then I tried throwing them after turning until I was dizzy. After a while, I always lost count, so I started over again.
During the afternoon, the click from the wooden door opening startled me. The Evil King loomed in the doorway while several servant girls cowered behind him.
"Is today the day you will grace me with your hand?" Wotan asked.
"No!" I replied.
He smirked. You knew that, you bastard.
"How has your day been so far? Are you not bored?" he asked.
He intends to drive me mad. Every day of my life until I agree to marry him.
I had been so sure there was no way he could subdue me. I was ready to endure torture. Because at least with torture I was still myself.
If I became mad, however, that was a whole different story. I was not sure of who I would be, of how far I would be willing to go. Calm down, Phi, it's only been one day!
"Not to worry, my beloved," the Evil King said. "I shall visit you every day to keep you company. You will learn to yearn for my presence." I feared he could be right. Bird fairies were meant to be free. Being my only contact with the outside world, it was possible I would give in, if that meant I could fly again. "In the meantime, would you join me for a meal?"
He clicked his fingers and the servant girls, clearly mindless because of their eyes and faces blank of emotion, deposited the food baskets they carried around the fire. Fresh breads, fruits, and herbal tea. The Evil King handed me a few pieces of food, which I almost tossed in my mouth, but then set down quickly.
"There is no use for me to poison you," he said. "I need you alive to tap into the powers of your ancestors."
True enough. I ate more eagerly. I hadn't eaten in almost two days and was feeling weak. I didn't care that the Evil King stared at me in silence.
"What are you feeling towards your father?" he asked after a long moment.
I didn't want to reply. Opening up to him would give him access to my most private thoughts. Still, I felt the urge rise inside of me. I bit my lip, fighting off the impulse as best as I could.
"I am angry at him," I replied. Pissed off, in fact.
The food wasn't poisoned, but it occurred to me that he had probably cast a truth spell on it.
"Of course you are," he replied with a grin. "He has been hiding things from you all your life."
He was right. "He deprived me from any fatherly love or touch," I added while nodding, still trying to fight off the spell.
"And how do you feel about your grandmother?"
"She also withheld the truth from me," I said. "She is as guilty as my fatherâand all of the Elders who knew and never told me."
His lips curled into a smile. Satisfied. "What if I give you the chance to get revenge?"
The idea scared me. Whatever they had done, and no matter how angry I was with them, I could not possibly wish them harm.
I hadn't said anything yet, but already he was guessing what I wanted to say. "You should think about it," he said. "A desire for revenge is a powerful toolâit can wake up great powers in you. I could help you tap into them." His one eye glistened.
"You want me to wake up more of my powers so see their extent before I marry you," I said flatly. "You want to see my powers to assess how they can be of use to you to overthrow my people. There is only one problem: I won't marry you."
I wanted to add, "Not ever," but I stopped myself. I didn't know if it was true. Perhaps, "I won't marry you as long as I am sane." But I had no idea how long I would be.
He was going to visit me every day in the hope that I would long for his company. After all, he was the person feeding me. The person who had control ofâif not my mind, yetâmy life. He could wish me dead at any moment if he decided I was no longer of any use to him.
"I thought I'd give you a chance," he said. "Since you don't seem to fear me, you amuse me. I am contemplating the idea of letting you be yourself, in control of your mind, if you turn out to be as evil as I want you to be."
"I don't want to be evil!" I said.
"Think about it," he warned. "Evilness could become your salvation. You will marry me. Maybe not today, but one day. And evilness would be the only thing that could save you from me controlling you and the only thing that would make you stay you."
"If I become evil I already wouldn't be me," I snapped.
I swallowed my saliva. My throat was dry. I stared at him with anger in my eyes, anger I wished he could read. That anger and hate I had towards him would be all the evilness I would allow myself to have. Enjoy it.
"That's too bad," he said, smiling wider this time. "But I won't give up just yet. People change their minds. By being here, you might as well. You might decide you do not want to control anything anymore. Some people find the burden to heavy and beg me to take over their mind so that they can stop suffering. I am curious to see if this is something that will happen to you."
"Just moments ago you said you wouldn't control my mind," I hissed, rolling my eyes. "So which is it?"
"I said I was contemplating letting you keep control of it if you let evil into your heart. Now, I, too, can change my mind. I don't know how long this offer will be valid."
"And you wonder why I don't want to marry you? You don't exactly seem trustworthy."
"I am not one of those that believe trust is the basis of a solid marriage," he said. "But I am certain one day you will marry me." He stood up, turned his back on me, and headed to the door. "It's getting late. Let's continue this conversation tomorrow."
*
The Evil King left my room at dusk. I held my tears until I could no longer hear him in the great hall outside my door. I cried my heart out, but after a while, my tears dried.
If only I hadn't returned to the settlement. What if I had followed Feyn instead of coming back to my people? I was almost sure he had looked at me the same way I hadâwith curiosity and avidity. He, too, had felt a spark.
Then I decided to sing. To sing because after crying, it was the next best thing that could pacify my soul. I chose a song I had learned in the past, in the alley. The song Halia and I had sung together when the merrows came to our alley to tell us about the New World.
"I heard of a land where
Circles of fairies dance under the moonlight
A land clouded in mist
That no mortal can ever find
They say that there is no fairer sight
Than that of the land of Arcadia
With its fields of emerald grass
Birds singing night and day
Rivers clearer than air
On this fortunate land
Hearts know no sorrows
And love lasts forever
They say there shall never be fairer sight
Than that of the land of Arcadia
Where life is eternal
Where there is no battle
Nymphs and other spirits of nature
Live in peace among virgin wilderness
On this fortunate land
Hearts know no sorrows
And love lasts forever
They say there shall never be fairer sight
Than that of the land of Arcadia
Where one day I will be
Waiting for you."
"What a beautiful song," said a voice from behind the chest.
I jumped, and then approached the chest slowly. Two red pupils appeared in the shadows behind the trunk.
"Who . . . who are you?" I asked.
A creature pushed the chest, came out of the darkness, and tip-toed toward me. "Is it already night?" he asked. "The day was so short. I could not sleep well."
"Yes . . . ," I said, my heart beating more quickly. "It's night."
The creature was about three feet tall and wore nothing but a red pouch; thankfully, the being was covered in hair. He, for it seemed to be a "he," had longer hair near his chin, a beard. He was hunched over, his arms resting on the floor. "Do you have any shoes I could use?"
I gave him the pair of shoes I wore. I had no real use for them anymore. "Here, take these," I said.
"Birch bark shoes!" The creature applauded. "It has been so long since I had shoes like these!"
He slipped into the shoes and admired them one foot at the time.
"Who are you?" I asked again.
"My apologies," he said with a curt bow. "I am Domovoy, a house spirit."
"I am Phi," I said, presenting him with my hand to shake.
"I know who you are," Domovoy replied but still taking my hand. "Who doesn't know who you are?"
I was thrilled at the idea of having a guest who was not the Evil King. I had no idea where this creature came from, but he seemed friendly.
If I can make him a friend, I might not go mad after all. "I would offer you something to eat, but all the food here is under a truth spell. Although I wouldn't mind getting some facts around here."
He grimaced, and then smiled. "I will never understand how some creatures can find this kind of food appetizing," he said, contemplating the food that laid near the fire pit. "This is simply disgusting."
"What do you usually eat?" I asked.
For a momentâperhaps because of his red eyesâI wondered with fear if he didn't eat creatures like me.
"I feed on emotions, not food," he explained. "I consume love, security, and respect. Something hard to feed from when you live in a castle among mindless creatures."
"How did you come to live here?" I asked.
"I was only passing through Wotan's land," he started, "when every soul that inhabited it fell under his influence. He closed his kingdom to the rest of the world, and I was unable to leave it."
"Wrong place, wrong time," I said.
He nodded. "I was only able to escape his influence because he never knew of my existence, so he never compelled me. I am awfully good at staying hidden."
To demonstrate his talent, the hairy creature squeezed in behind some poles beside the bed, in the darkest corners of the dim room.
I giggled.
"At last, happiness!" he said, tapping his belly like if he had just had a satisfying meal. "I knew I was doing the right thing in coming here. This is delicious!"
"I am sorry you had to go through this," I said, hardly containing my laughter.
His clowning made me forget where I was for a moment. But only for a moment.
"I will never be able to love this man," I said with the smile wiped off my face. "The idea of having to marry him is repulsive."
"Indeed," Domovoy said. "He is a man with horrible manners and morals. His first wife certainly thought the same."
"His first wife?" I asked. "Who was she? What happened to her?"
"When Joanuelfvin, King of the Ceoax, died, Wotan saw an opportunity to take the crown, the king's son being too young to assume the role on his own. So he forced the widow queen to marry him. As the son grew older, however, it became clear that the queen planned to make her son king in his place and Wotan decided to murder the boy."
"That's horrible!" I cried.
"Yes, he is a very cruel king. So cruel he decided to perpetrate the deed himself although he had hundreds of people serving him that were more than willing to do it in exchange for a few favours. He stabbed the poor child and killed him in his mother's very arms!"
Has Grannie told me this story before? I had never heard of it. It was so gruesome perhaps she had wanted us to never hear it.
"The story doesn't end there," Domovoy continued. "Every day after that, Wotan came to the queen and battered her until she agreed to do whatever he pleased. No affection grew between them. Really, how could it? They both hated each other. That's probably why he repudiated her when he decided he wanted a son."
"He repudiated her? How so? What happened to her?"
"I don't know." The creature shrugged. "She was never heard from again. But soon after, he forced a younger girl to become his wife instead."
"He had two wives?" Evil and a bigamist?
"Yes," he replied, like if it was obvious. "The second wife gave him a son. A son named Proinsias. But the Evil King was still a tyrant to his wife, his son, or anyone who disagreed with him."
"And what happened to them? Are they here?"
"The new queen learned a bit of magic and managed to free some of her guards from his mind control tricks and soon a great revolt broke out. Vikings dressed in their warrior apparels surrounded the house where the Evil King lived and they set everything on fire. They wanted to burn the king alive, but he escaped. He fled to an island close by, taking his son Proinsias with him.
"Since the queen loved their son, Wotan thought that by taking him, his mother would not do anything against him. He feared she would take possession of the throne in his absence.
"He was right about her intentions. She hesitated before taking the crown, because she was afraid her husband would harm their son, but her counsellors convinced her that no man would be cruel enough to harm his own son, that deep down the king loved Proinsias. After all, the king had wished for his birth."
"He did hurt him, didn't he?" I gulped.
"It took some time before she learned any of it. She was already becoming an established queen. On the day of her birthday, she made arrangements for a great celebration. The whole community was invited, all eager for the feast.
"In the midst of the festivities, the queen learned she had received a large coffer as a present. The coffer was brought in front of her. Thinking it contained some magnificent present in honour of the occasion, the queen removed the lid. She and the other witnesses screamed in horror at the sight."
"Her son's body . . ."
"Yes, in a mass of flesh, almost unrecognizable if it weren't for his head."
I felt my stomach convulse. "I take it that the king regained possession of the throne after?"
"The queen was so inconsolable at the death of her son that the Evil King managed to enter the land again and put everyone back under his control, yes."
Disgusting, but at least it was the truth. "Your company does me good. Thank you," I added. "If you want, you can come and feed from my emotions again."
"Only a princess for a day but already talking like you have been one all your life," said Domovoy. He kissed my hand, his furrowed (and furry) forehead bowing. "I promise I will be a good friend to you."
"As will I," I replied.
He beamed before returning to the shadows behind the chest. He had vanished.
Again, alone with my thoughts, I reflected on love. If I am to marry the Evil King, I shall never experience love. And that's putting it mildly. There was nevertheless a little glimmer of the romantic feeling in my heart, a memory I would always cherish although it had only lasted for a few moments. Feyn. Will I ever see him again?
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