Through the Eyes of a Fae
Chapter 8

A few days on the road reminded Kora constantly that she had been a statue for over a thousand years. Her bottom throbbed, her legs shook. The mare Ben had acquired for her was a sweet girl, and though she was a skilled rider, the strength of long campaigning had obviously left her body. Kora softly recited childhood rhymes to keep her from focusing on her aching bottom. Kora felt another horse. Ben was approaching. She smiled at him because she could not help it. He was so sweet to her and had no reason to be. She was still mystified why he was so drawn to her. It had to be her looks. Looking down to hide her frown, a bitter memory came to mind. A woman must use all weapons at her disposal. Including her body. Her mother’s words echoed in her ear, and the memory of her mother painfully dragging a brush through her hair as a teenager surfaced. Not wanting to remember the horrors that had followed that night, she pushed it from her mind, and looked up again to smile more brightly at Ben. He, so far, had shown her no ill will, and she did owe him a lot. Also, the curiosity of how he woke her still gnawed at the back of her mind.

“I brought you something to eat. We will stop soon, but it is to help a village ravaged by the enemy. They have no supplies and the sick need tending.” He handed her a warm roll with sausage and a chunk of goat cheese stuffed inside. Kora’s appetite was back in full force, and she accepted gratefully, trying to gobble the morsel as gracefully as she could.

“Will we have enough supplies to spare?” Kora was thinking of the wagons she saw, quickly doing some math. She wondered at the size of the village. She had acquired a map from a soldier the other night, after he had just a bit too much to drink and had been pouring over it, memorizing the land. At the pace they were moving, they were still over three weeks from the capital. She surmised the village Ben mentioned must be Kerr, as it was the first one on the southern road from the encampment. It must have been a hard war indeed, for the enemy to push so far into their borders, and for them to drive them back out. Ben glanced at her in surprise, then looked thoughtful.

“We have more than we need for the trip home. King Malik plans to leave any excess there to help and cut down on the caravan’s size. There are a few groups of soldiers who call Kerr home as well, and they are eager to return and try to salvage what they can. Things look grim, though. The last report says the enemy salted the fields and burned every building to the ground. Ruined the main water supply. They need to drop a new well.” Kora said nothing but surveyed her surroundings. Things seemed very green here already, spring was well under way. She had shed the fur lined over rode days ago, since the weather had turned warmer. Even braiding her hair up into a coronet, to get it off her neck as the sun beat down on them.

“Does it rain here often?” Kora looked up, accessing the clouds.

“Yes, this region does receive a good bit of rainfall, why?” Ben was watching her, curious. She looked down, and silently cursed herself. Ben was too observant. Since regaining her voice, she found herself slipping more often in his presence. Even before she was turned to stone, she was lonely. It was nice to have someone to talk to and not about all the duties and responsibilities she used to have. Though she was still grieving the loss of her previous life, she suddenly reveled in the new opportunity she had to be free. Free of the chains and the expectations. It was still dangerous for her. If anyone knew the true depth of her powers, the Men of the Grey could try to subdue her again. To use her against their enemies. She refused to be a weapon of mass destruction ever again. She had politely asked Ludis before they left if she could borrow one of the many history books she had been loading into a wagon. Based on what she had read, there seemed to be a consistent set of elites who were siphoning her. There was no real telling of how far they had spread their poison. This village could be the first of many to be seen. Malik would have to marry soon and marry rich. Kora did not envy him the task at hand. A land at war for 1500 years would take just as long to recoup. He faced what she did all those years ago. Though she was looking at the beginning of the war, and he at the end. The aftermath was always worse, she mused to herself. Ben looked at her imploringly and she started.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Ben. I became lost in thought, what did you say?”

" You asked about the rain.” Ben waited. He was incredibly patient. And not so forgetful, she noticed. Kora scrambled.

" Uhm well rain makes things grow right? So, they should be fine.” she stated, casually waving her arm out in an arch. She could not hide her nobility, she knew that. But if they just thought her some basic noble woman from back in the day, then it would be better for her. No need to know that the land they walked on was once hers. That their ancestors once swore to her. That was not her, not anymore. She never wanted it, and now was her chance to be free. To try to live a good life, not constantly weighing one hard decision against another. Ben stared for a moment and then shook his head.

“I wish it were that simple but, with salted fields, there will be no growth. And with no livestock, these people will have nothing to offer for goods. The capital is overrun with refugees but, eventually, these villagers will end up making their way there as well. Few will survive here. No one speaks of the aftermath of war.” The last part of his sentence was to himself.

As a lord of his own lands, he understood the stress King Malik felt. Though he was lucky enough to not have salted fields, the Men of the Grey had affected the weather when they had meddled with the earths magic, causing drought in a good part of his region. He, too, had subjects at home who suffered. His steward did well by them, and he trusted the old man with his life. He was made of sturdy stuff and knew how to do battle with his wretched aunt. His people were safe. And though things were tight, they were well cared for. If Beatrice had her way, the people would starve while she sat on the spoils of her scheming.

A large ridge soon came into view. “Ah, as soon as we crest this ridge, we will be able to see the village, or what’s left of it.” Ben looked forward and Kora did as well. Atop the crest, Kora looked down in horror. The land was splashes of brown and black. Burning piles here and there showed the dead that the village had burned. The sickness of a poisoned water source. The fields lay bare, and some long dead cows bloated in the afternoon sun. The people were dirty and looked worn to the bone, many starving. Kora’s heart ached. Her magic did this. She had allowed the Men of the Grey to enslave the last of the Fae and here was the price that was paid. How miserable and selfish of her, trotting along, thinking of the new life she wanted to make - free of responsibility. Nothing has changed. These were still her people. This was still her problem. These people were innocent and because of her brief lapse in judgment, the world had paid the price for her. She felt her anger surge, and the night she turned stone came to her, unbidden.

She had been standing in the deepest part of their oldest stronghold, what had they called it? Attrition Castle. The cave was sacred to the Fae. It was where she could connect with those before her. To seek guidance. She had been singing her heart out, grieving the loss of her father and brother. The Men of the Grey had taken all but her. Drew was her only solace. He was her confidant, her friend. Her lover. He had come quietly down the stairs and stood behind her while she sang. Knowing he was there, she had turned to reach for him, seeking comfort - hand outstretched. Too late, she saw the stone in his hand, the small obelisk of obsidian and the runes carved upon its surface. The ancient runes were from the gods-meant to subdue - to freeze. Too late, she felt her legs lock, and their eyes met. She knew then it was over. Kora had been betrayed. The Fae were gone, and she had failed. It had taken just a second. She could recall every detail of that moment, etched forever in her memory. His face, as joy lit him from within that he had succeeded in subduing her. The last note she had sung echoed off the walls. The glow from the trees as Kora’s magic faded. Drew’s blue eyes were ice-cold, his black hair slicked away from his face. He triumphed and Kora could not even wail. She turned to stone as her eyes closed. Her last breath slipped from her parted lips with her final word,

“Why?”