Tether

Bolero wiped a bead of sweat from his brow, and took a step towards Aster and Indigo. Kieran couldn’t possibly expect him to allow Aster to attend to her in isolation, could he? He didn’t get far before Kieran swept into his path. A void falcon, golden anklets gleaming, swept over Bolero’s head with a loud screech.

He glanced at Kieran, who shook his head and gestured for him to follow. Could he trust the golden-eyed man who stood silently and studied him like a bored cat watching a caged dove? His falcon swept towards them once again, landing on Kieran’s gloved fist. Its head bobbed up and down as the falcon regarded Bolero.

“He’s taking her somewhere safe, Hawk. As promised. Her injuries will be treated, and no further harm will come to her. Now,” He said, “Try to relax a little, and come with me.” There was an air of mischief in Kieran’s eyes, the arrogance returning to his posture, his half smile.

Birds serenaded their mates on a tree limb nearby, and hornets buzzed angrily around Bolero’s head, breaking the silence as he found himself at a loss for words.

“Well?” Kieran smirked at Bolero, the expression not unfriendly. His robes shifted as he turned and started walking towards one of the several lichen-coated huts. The dwellings were as opposite the Eyrie’s as possible, small squat structures with staircases leading to an underground chamber.

The huts were encircled by vibrant flowers, gardens and shrubs blossoming and rife with berries. Shades of lavender, pinks, and bright goldenrod dotted the huts, all of them species he recognized from the forest paths. Each species was edible or otherwise useful in medicines. Had the Sidhe gathered the wild plants in order to have tame, accessible gardens in the village center, or had they cultivated the Nithra to support them? The scent of the garden became more noticeable the closer he was led to the only discernibly different hut in this part of the village. It was larger than the others, its roof covered in spiral-shaped gardens and thick moss, a striking blanket of color.

Kieran led Bolero down a set of dark wooden stairs, and to a rounded doorway wrought with interlace patterns. They formed a litany of shapes -animals, spirals, leaves -all interconnected, with no discernable end or beginning.

Its craftsmanship was impeccable, he thought, as the door opened and closed behind him. The interior of the hut was rather simple, consisting of a circular stove in the center and wooden bookshelves on nearly every possible surface. His gaze froze on several lush-looking cushions on the ground. The colorful, blocky designs on them didn’t look faintly Sidhe-wrought. Kieran nodded at one of the cushions, and his falcon hopped from his fist onto a block perch that sat beside the green cushion opposite the one Bolero settled in.

His gaze shifted to the dark falcon as Kieran tended to the wood burning stove. He narrowed his eyes at the sigil-covered clothing, his gleaming umber eyes, eventually resting his gaze on the fae-style teapot. The falconer returned his gaze, his mouth twitching before dropping a pouch of herbs into the pot to steep.

“Tea?” Kieran smiled when Bolero shook his head no, and shrugged, serving himself instead. His Void falcon shifted on her perch and stretched her wings as he took a seat across from Bolero, so that the stove separated the two. He took a deep sip of tea, sighing heavily before putting it back down beside the stove. “I always forget that such things lost their flavor for me ages ago…anyhow. Back to business. Let me introduce myself properly, without magical mist or your adorable merlin friend in the way.”

“Indigo isn’t ‘adorable,’ she’s a shifter of the Eyrie, and you will respect her.”

“No disrespect was intended. I’m just biased towards falcons, I suppose.” As if on cue, his falcon roused, and reached up to scratch her chin. “My bird and I are almost as close as you are with your hawk form, if not closer.” He took another sip of tea, and grimaced before putting the cup and saucer onto the ground in front of him.

“Why did you summon me here? Why send those dreams?”

“Dreams?”

“What does Bloodbound mean?”

Kieran regarded him silently for a moment.

“You truly do look so much like your mother,” Kieran said- Bolero, who had been staring intently at his hands in his lap, shifted his eyes to meet the falconer’s. “And you ask almost as many questions as she used to.”

“What….did you just say? How do you know my mother? What are you planning, Kieran?" Bolero watched the falconer as he lowered his hood fully, baring a face that couldn't possibly belong to a creature such as a void falconer. The man's eyes, glowing in the faint light of the Sidhe mound, drifted to meet his. Bolero's eyes darted away quickly. Up close, the man’s sharp features were more visible, and only brought more questions to mind. Nothing about him -his complexion, his garb, his accent -was of East Rihlia.

"What?" Kieran asked, his slim, delicate fingers moving to unclasp his cloak.

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"I..."Bolero watched quietly as the black, sigil-laced cloak drifted to the floor unceremoniously. The pulsing symbols disappeared from the garment, blinked out of existence. His breath hitched as the magical symbols materialized on Kieran's dark tunic, and onto his skin.

"Is it the sigils confusing you? If so, I'd be happy to explain."

“I won’t ask it a second time. How do you know my mother?”

What game was this man playing? Bolero fisted his hands and watched as his fingertips glowed like embers. The lighting in the hut brightened for a moment, as the flames of the stove reacted to his emotional state, flickering wildly. He inhaled, willing them to settle. Setting the village on fire was no way to get the answers he needed.

"But I'd prefer to explain over a nice, warm meal. And I’m sure I speak for the entire village when I say that I would prefer it if you could control yourself. It’s hard to discuss terms when you’re on fire.”

Bolero’s fingers ceased to glow, and the dimness of the room settled back in place.

“Terms?”

“ I can put food on, if you prefer it over tea. Would you want, I don’t know. Stew?What is it your kind eats constantly?"

"I’m not going to eat anything you offer me. I need answers, Void. You’ve avoided every question I’ve posed so far. What are you trying to do here?"

Kieran barked a laugh.

"What am...I trying to do? If I wanted to hurt you,or your young friend, I would have done so. Or has that not been made clear by now?”

Resigned, Bolero watched as the falconer stood and returned to the stove. He’d either been planning to eat supper regardless of his presence, or assumed Bolero would eventually cave in to his ridiculous request, as a hunter’s pot already hung over the warmed coals. Kieran spooned some of it into a bowl and strode over to Bolero, offering it to him with a bow. He accepted it, his stomach rumbling in protest.

He had yet to eat today, he realized, and hesitantly took a spoonful of the stew into his mouth. The falconer had nothing to gain by poisoning him now, and he was right -if the Sidhe and falconers intended to kill him or Indigo, they would have done so immediately.

Unbelievable. It was delicious. There was no meat in it at all. He could taste herbs -basil, perhaps? And at least two different kinds of fungi.

“Did you make this?” He said between bites, “It’s… very good. Different than Eyrie fare, but good.”

“I’ve had the Eyrie’s food before,” Kieran’s tone darkened, “It’s almost as dull as the architecture. How such a colorful, vibrant race can live in such a place has always confused me.”

“You’ve been in the Eyrie before?” It simply wasn’t possible. Not with the wards. Not with the Eyrie guard patrolling the cliffsides. Kieran seemed hesitant to answer.

“I have been. A long, long time ago.”

“Is that how you knew my mother’s name?”

“Anqa was a good hawk, and an even better Flameweaver.” Kieran took Bolero’s empty bowl, and set it on the ground. “She was almost as strong as your father.”

The falconer’s riddles were getting old. “Kieran, how did you know my parents?”

“There’s a small village across the Steppes that they were fond of visiting. It was a town of refugees, a place where the displaced could settle and make something of themselves.”

“You’re still not answering my questions, Kieran. Why were my parents coming out to Sidhe territory?”

“Not just your parents. You were-”

-a loud explosion rattled the building, the tea cups and bowls rattling violently.

Bolero’s heart thudded in his chest. “What was that?”

“It seems that sweet pretty eagle Altairi’s managed to track you down.”

Bolero unfurled his legs and stood, nape feathers burning, flickers of fire arching in his palms.

“Or is it all a trap? Where’s Indigo? Let me go to see her. Now.”

The ground shuddered a second time, and Kieran’s falcon shrieked, fleeing from her perch onto his fist.

The air around him tingled, buzzed with powerful magic. Its thread was inexplicably, inarguably Eyrie. No, not just Eyrie.

Eagle.

“Kieran! What are you doing?”

“I can’t make it any clearer, can I?”

“If it’s not you doing it, then who is?” But he knew. He knew as he felt the familiar vibrations in the air, the musical timbre of Altairi’s light magic ripple and fall from the heavens.

He narrowed his eyes at the falconer, who quietly returned the stare. His void falcon fidgeted, winnowing and flapping her wings.

“From where I'm standing, it seems as though it's your own people trying to hurt you. Or, in this case, probably kill you and torch the entire village."

Bolero's jaw clenched. "They wouldn't kill me,"

The falconer's mouth twitched at the corner for a moment, before his lips pressed into a line. "Are you usually this delusional, or are you toying with me? The Eyrie doesn't send armed eagles for peace missions." He watched Bolero expectedly, a red eyebrow raised in question. After a moment, he said, “Delusional it is,” as he ushered Bolero out of the hut, and into the chaos awaiting them outside. “But we should probably go see what this little visit is about.”