Cristali

I am everywhere and nowhere. Everything and nothing. I know all, I see all, I touch all. No, I'm not some creepy stalker or pervert. I am air itself. I rush through city streets, into the clouds. Inside and outside every living being. I shoot up into the sun-kissed sky, filling with the bright hues of sunset. I soar through doors and windows, and down into the depths of the sea. None fear me, yet I have the power to give and take as I please. Without me, life would be gone. But with me, the world flourishes, full of living, breathing creatures. Some of those creatures are more powerful than others, some more wicked. But now I am dying, along with this world.

I come from a time before time itself. Where there was nothing and yet everything, and at the same time only one thing. I come from the root of the world. The World Tree. Now, everything comes from the Tree in some way or another. But I was purely from the Tree, a gift to the universe. The gift of life. And now the root of the world has been poisoned. The Tree is dying.

But there is hope yet. One brave soul, among others, searches for the Tree, in hopes of saving it. There are many others with the same aims, but this one holds particular promise. I have watched her path thus far, helping her along the way as I can. But the hard work is mostly up to her. She now stands in a human marketplace, begging with a vendor to sell her some food. But he refuses, the prejudice of his kind towards magic hanging over the conversation.

And that is where I come in. I know I can do something, and so I do. Whistling between the stalls, I shoot towards the man. Short and stocky, he seems to be stubborn. He will be hard to persuade. But I whisper in his ear, singing him tales of kindness and acceptance. The magic of the winds fills him through me, and I teach him that her business will have value, and that he will be rewarded with good fortune in exchange for assisting her. Slowly but surely, he comes around, finally willing to give in. And the Archon woman gets her supplies. There is still hope in her. And I will do anything to keep that hope alive.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Brigitte

It was dark where she kept me, tucked away, safe from harm in her pocket. I knew that she was trying to keep me safe, safe from whatever monsters we might run into, safe from people who wanted to do her harm, but that was little comfort to me. It was far too warm in her pocket, a constant reminder of the fate of my last owner. It had been nearly a full millennia, but, there really wasn't much that a rag doll needed to remember.

*

"It's alright, Brigitte, we're going to be fine," Emily said, pulling me close to her chest. Her words were more assurance to herself than anybody else, but even as she said them, I could tell she knew their futility. It had been two full days since we began hiding underground. Two whole days since she had anything to eat or drink. Two whole days without seeing another person.

I wished that I could speak words of comfort to my girl, I had tried before in times of distress. But that was as impossible as her getting out of this alive. The door was blocked by a fallen beam, and flames were slowly edging closer to us. Still, she held tightly into me, and I held onto whatever fragile hope we had left.

Dust fell from the ceiling above us, and Emily shook with fear, holding me against her chest even tighter. Her strength was almost terrifying, I had no idea how so much can strength was contained in such a small figure, but the dust falling from above was even more terrifying. That fist meant footsteps, and those footsteps meant more soldiers.

"It's alright, Brigitte, we're going to be fine," Emily repeated. Her voice was hardly louder than the shaking of the ceiling, than the falling dust. Over and over again, she repeated those eight words, quiet each time, as though they were just an echo of what her mother had said earlier.

"It's alright, Emily, you're going to be fine."

Another beam, one supporting the ceiling, fell with a loud crack, but I could hardly hear it over Emily's screams. Her grip on me loosened as the beam fell, hitting her chest with full force. Whatever fragile hope the two of us had vanished as the beam caught on fire. Unless Emily found superhuman strength to push the beam off of her, she was as good as dead, and I would follow soon afterwards. I don't think I'd ever been as scared as I was then.

There was a loud crack at the door as it broke open, light filling the air. The scent of cinder, of still-burning fires, of charred bodies quickly followed. My poor Emily could do little more than whimper. Her tenuous grip on my hand weakened even more, she had no more strength left than I did.

A being of pure flame burst into the room, the expression on her face both confused and terrified at once. I'd heard of beings like that before, archons, the fact that one was born just now was a testament to the sheer magnitude of the fire burning outside. Whatever doubt I had about whether Emily's mother lived or died was gone now, even I might not live through the day.

Tenderly, as though she were scared she would do even more damage to the basement, the archon stepped towards us. She looked down at the beam, then, with pain in her eyes looked down at Emily. Lifting up he beam was impossible even for her, and, even if it wasn't, Emily was too far gone. If I could cry, I would have, I had never felt such a tremendous pain before.

"My doll," Emily gasped, a new glimmer of hope twinkling in her eyes. "Can you keep her safe?"

Kneeling down, the archon picked me up, and lifted me to face Emily. It seemed like the entire beam had been lifted off her shoulders, not just a rag doll taken out of her hands. "See," I heard her whisper, a weak smile coming to her face. "I told you that you would be alright."

"What's her name?" asked the archon.

"Brigitte," Emily gasped, the light finally leaving her eyes. My last glance of Emily was her body lying on the ground, a sad smile resting on her face.

*

"Do you have any idea who I am?" Brigitte asked, her voice rising with anger. I'd always hated when Brigitte did that, when she acted like Emily's tragedy was her own.

"My family has to eat just as much as you do, no matter how fantastic you are," the man, a shopkeeper I think, replied. "I can't give you the supplies for any less than that."

Even through her pocket, I could feel Brigitte tense. No matter how emaciated she looked, she was stronger than my Emily had been. If nothing else, she had fulfilled her promise of keeping me safe. "I don't have enough gold."

"Then you'll have to buy less supplies." The shopkeeper didn't seem to miss a beat - I had no doubt held had far more stubborn customers than just Brigitte. He wouldn't relent anytime soon.

"Daddy, what's that in her pocket?" a young girl said. My heart skipped a beat, she sounded so much like my Emily.

"That's mine," Brigitte said, heating up with anger. She was still trying to keep her promise of keeping me safe, or trying to anyway. "It's a rag doll once had for almost a thousand years."

"Can I have her?" The naivety of the voice asking made my heart fill until it was almost bursting.

I knew Brigitte well by now, well enough to tell how she was feeling just by her body language. I could tell when she was angry, when she was happy, when she was sad. And now, now Brigitte was considering something. "If I give her the doll, will you give me the supplies?" Her hand reached into her pocket, and grabbed me by mine.

The shopkeeper sighed, and I suppose he nodded, for Brigitte took me out of her pocket. The sudden light was a little overwhelming, but I didn't mind much, the girl standing before me looked just like Emily, down to the very t.

"Just," Brigitte said, drawing me away from her quickly. "Promise me that you'll keep her safe?"

"I will," the little girl said, her voice conveying the full gravity of the situation. She wasn't strong like Brigitte, but I could tell that she meant every word that she said.

"And, what's your name, little girl?"

"I'm Emily," the girl said proudly.

Finally, I was home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eira Ottoline

I wanted to be proud of Eira.

I had always been proud of my girl, and if anything, one would expect a quest of this importance would make me ever more proud. But I wasn't. I loved her, yes, of course. I would always love her, there was no question about that.

I just wasn't proud of her.

Eira had been stubborn from infancy. She would throw a tantrum every time I tried to put her down for a nap, and toss her greens at the walls (or sometimes my face) during meals. Her stubbornness was an important part of her, I could recognize that early on, and so I never taught her otherwise. I knew that as she age that stubbornness would turn into self-assurance and confidence that would propel her to achieve great things. And yes, my girl was on her way to achieving great things, just not the way I wanted for her.

Perhaps I should have taught her otherwise. Perhaps I should have stressed the importance of compassion. And maybe I would have, if I'd had more time with her. But that, I suppose, was not in the universe's plan.

I could still remember plainly the day I was taken from her.

Eira and I were on our way to the market. We were going to one of the human markets, because the variety of products available to purchase was larger. It was Eira's birthday, and I had promised her she could have anything she wanted.

She was a happier child then. She had yet to learn about the world's potential for cruelty. She had yet to learn about her own potential for cruelty. Her smile and laughter that day was unlike any I had seen before, and though I've watched her every day of her life since, I have yet to see such a smile again.

We were stopped before we could reach the market. It was humans. Humans with armor and nets and swords of iron. They introduced themselves as "fairy hunters" and try as I might to paralyze them in the Unseelie way, they had prepared for that. They were blind. I could not hold eye contact with someone that could not see me.

I knew where it was going from the start, and so I tried to force Eira away. I tried to tell her to go home and stay safe. But she was stubborn. She refused.

She stayed by my side until the end. Beyond the end. The "fairy hunters" took us back to their camp. I died shortly upon arrival, but Eira survived, too stubborn to die. She lasted there for a week, enduring their brutal torment until one night when she broke free. She killed each and every hunter as they slept, then she made her way back to the Unseelie kingdom, carrying my body with her.

The day we were taken, I was proud of her. She fought so bravely and struggled so hard, though I knew the iron nets were burning her flesh as much as they did mine. Some days, when she would let her glamour drop and stopped hiding behind the perfect facade she'd created for herself, I could see that the scars from that day still remained, marring nearly every inch of her once porcelain skin.

The day she saved herself and killed our captors, I was proud of her. The day she brought my body before our queen and requested a proper burial, I was proud of her. But since then, I have had little to be proud of.

I wish to blame myself. If not for that incident on her birthday, she never would have become what she was now. Hardened, cruel, manipulative. She no longer lets the world surprise her, she controls every action, both her own and those of the people around her. Her heart no longer has room for anything but hate.

I wanted her to achieve greatness, but not like this.

She wandered alone now, in search of the tree. She'd left her group, the only thing close to friendship she'd had in a long time. She was cold and bitter as always, though maybe a bit heartbroken. No, heartbroken isn't the right word for it.... empty, that's better. Eira was cold, bitter, and empty, and she'd suffered nearly her entire life that way simply because she was too proud (and too afraid, though she'd never say that out loud) to allow people into her life.

She was afraid to get close, so instead she pushed people away. Sometimes with murder. Another thing I'm not entirely proud of. My poor, poor, misguided girl. Sometimes the other spirits watch her with me. They say her bloodlust is a bit more than misguidance.However, I don't trust their opinions because they're dead.

She didn't cry while she wandered, which surprised me because she often did that when she was completely alone. She simply glared at the path ahead of her and kicked rocks, and the occasional frog if one was foolish enough to cross in front of her.

When she found herself in a small encampment of humans, she killed them all without a second thought and took their supplies. She was still in a horrible mood, because she never once taunted any of them before or during the killing, she was completely silent.

When the sun started to set, she dropped down under a tree in an angry huff and narrowed her eyes murderously at the ground. "Ugh, what am I doing?" she shouted at the sky. I liked to imagine she was talking to me whenever she did that.

"You're pushing people away when you don't need to, foolish child. Go back to your allies!" I shouted down to her. Of course she couldn't hear me, death was inconvenient that way.

She kept her eyes glued to the ground and remained silent for hours, then she sighed, muttered a swearword under her breath, and started back the way she'd come. It didn't take her long to find her group, especially since they stopped traveling as soon as they got out of the Cat's forest. They had to mourn, and bury the one they'd lost.

Cestil sobbed over the grave. Sobbed. Seraphina and Greta watched silently, huddled close together. Eira was deathly silent as she approached them, her throat tightening as realization settled upon her.

"M-Marlow...?" She choked out.

Cestil didn't say anything. He only looked at her with the most pitiful expression Eira had ever seen.

I could see the shock n Eira's face. She was surprised he didn't hate her, and surprised he wasn't blaming her for Marlow's death. After all, if she had stayed with them they may have been able to fight Cat Sith off.

"I'm... I'm sorry..." It was barely more than a whisper, but it was enough to take my breath away. My girl had apologized. Genuinely. And what's more, she approached the grave, dropped to her knees beside Cestil, and put her hand lightly on his arm.

It was a gentle, emotional gesture. For once, she wasn't trying to claim ownership of him, she was trying to offer him comfort, in the only way she could bring herself to do. Eira was trying to offer someone comfort. Eira.

It was nothing much. Something that would be easily overlooked if it had come from someone else. But this was my girl, my precious baby, who for the past five hundred and some odd years I had watched do nothing but manipulate, kill, and cry.

For once, in a very, very long time... I was beyond proud of her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Selyse Bellanessa Ivory

As retribution for his recent journey north, the village had assigned his human the duty of circling the perimeter at dawn's light. If it was made to make him regret his travels to Adiro, it failed.

If anything, it made Jaxon long for the cities and streets of the northern empires. If he were up north right now, he wouldn't be trudging through the mud in the early morning.

A black bird cawed overhead. Jaxon halted and narrowed his eyes at the forest. The birds rarely made noise without reason. They were good guards that way. The problem lay in the fact that Jaxon had no way of knowing what the bird's reason was. For all he knew, the bird had warned its brethren of Jaxon himself.

Of course it was. Stupid of Jaxon to stop and waste his time at the twittering of a stupid bird.

He shook his head at his folly and trudged onward. In his head, he listed off the reasons the north held more appeal than his southern home. Warmer weather. Less demonic irritations. More pretty girls.

Perhaps that one was for the best. It was the prettiest girl that had caused him to be kicked out of Adiro in the first place, and sent back to the hole that was Tau.

Jaxon should've just told her no. Had he thought that stealing a necklace she wanted would make him like her more? Actually, he couldn't remember what he'd been thinking before. He could only assume it had been something stupid.

Another bird cawed overhead. Jaxon didn't intend to stop, but then the cawing this time was accompanied by someone crashing through bushes. He paused. Almost subconsciously, he lifted his spear. The crashing noise grew close.

Though he knew it was improper, he felt his heart race. This, at least, was some excitement. He wondered what the invader would be. A demon? A wild animal? That demon animal crossbreed that he'd heard the elders fretting over?

Jaxon poised himself to strike at whatever creature came hurtling through the forest. If he killed a predator, that would be a good excuse to leave perimeter guard duty.

The sound was close now. He bit his lip to keep his teeth from chattering from anticipation. Any second now, the monster would come charging right at him, and he'd have to fight it off just like a real hero....

The source of the sound crashed to a halt in front of his eyes. "No," he murmured, "No way. Impossible."

Instead of a monster, a bedraggled teenage girl had stumbled out of the forest. She blinked her wide eyes and stared up at him underneath long lashes. Even covered in dirt and caked in dried blood, she still looked beautiful.

Of all the odds. It hadn't had to be any teenage girl that stumbled onto his village during his guard shift. Of course it had to be this girl. The girl that had claimed she loved him one day, and the next got him arrested and vanished without a trace.

"Selyse," Jaxon growled. "What are you doing here?"

Her eyes grew big with recognition. Jaxon could see the necklace he'd given her still draped about her neck. He wasn't sure what to think of that.

She pointed to herself, made a pleading motion with her hands, and pointed back to him. Was this some sort of charade game to her?

"Selyse. Just say what you mean." Jaxon folded his arms across his chest to look a bit more menacing.

At least, he hoped it looked menacing. He sincerely hoped that he wasn't looking ridiculous in front of her, or stupid. That was the last thing any self-respecting young man would want to look like in front of an ex-girlfriend.

Selyse pointed to her throat and shook her head. Jaxon blinked. She did the same thing again. He narrowed his eyes at her, and comprehension dawned.

"Do you mean..." He stepped closer. "You can't speak?"

Selyse nodded. Jaxon supposed she had to be telling the truth, because otherwise the Selyse he had known would be unable to resist talking by now.

Stranger and stranger. If some of the other village men had come across a talkative girl they had known once leagues away stuck with silence here, they would assume the girl a demonic apparition and kill her.

Jaxon's fingers tightened around the spear. He imagined plunging it into the flesh of the skinny girl in front of him. Something in his stomach twisted in revolt.

"What do you need?" He asked.

Either from fear or cold, Selyse's body trembled so hard her knees knocked against each other. She pointed to her stomach. She pinched the cloth that made up her shirt and waved it for Jaxon to see. Lastly, she pointed at her feet, marching in place.

"You want food," Jaxon translated, "clothes, and... help getting up north?" He guessed.

She nodded. The fervent action made her brown mane bounce around her shoulders. It had grown a bit since he had last seen her, as if it were trying to make up for her lack of good clothing.

"Why should I help you?" He stepped backward. "Last time I helped you get that necklace, I was awarded with arrest and deportation back here. Why should I help you?"

Her face crumbled. Shiny tears took hold in her doe eyes. Her thin shaking intensified. Jaxon blinked, in an odd sort of awe.

"Are you crying?" He marveled at the sight. He'd never seen a girl like her...well, any girl, actually... cry before. Her only response was to bit down on her lower lip.

Jaxon sighed. "All right," he moaned. "Fine. I'll help you get what you need. But." Jaxon lifted a finger. "You have to promise never to come back to this village ever again."

Selyse breathed a sigh of relief. Her head bobbed up and down in an enthusiastic indicator of her feelings toward that requirement.

"All right then." Jaxon extended a hand. "Come with me."