Season 8: Quamquam Bevis Sit, Animosa Tamen Est

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The moment Merla, Astra and Kruxeral landed, they sought shelter from the merciless sun under some large, leafy branches of a copse of palm trees dotting the valley’s edge. Though it was hotter than any other place in the Summer Lands, the plants are noticeably verdant and plentiful. Despite the lack of rivers nearby, perhaps the plants thrived so well from the humid air, Merla thought.

“There it is,” Kruxeral says, interrupting her musings. He pointed below them. “The Damphenite Tangle.”

Merla peers over the ledge and sucks in a breath of dense air. It was less of a valley and more of a canyon full of labyrinthine and intersecting gorges and chasms, the rock shifting in colour from deep purples to vibrant magentas. The longer she looked the more dizzying the verticality got. She reaches out and grasps Kruxeral’s arm.

“Wow. I’ve never seen anything like it,” she says, hiding her sudden breathlessness.

Kruxeral smiles down at her, taking her hand from his arm to hold it in his.

“There is where we need to go,” he says, indicating a cluster of crisscrossing bridges made of the shifting rock.

“Yeah, it’s really quite something,” Cay says gloomily. The sprite flies over from Astra and lands on Merla’s shoulder. He looks down to the winding canyon below and sighs. “Nothing’s really changed, I’m sure.”

“Was the Damphenite Tangle your home?” Merla asks, glancing at her tiny friend.

“It was before the Summer Court,” the sprite answers. There is none of Cay’s usual mischievousness to be found anywhere on his expression or his voice.

“He left because his family wanted him to become one of their Warriors but Cay had no interest in fighting,” May says, flitting down to sit on Merla’s other shoulder. “His mother found Cay’s art one day and in a rage disowned him for betraying their ‘noble line of Sprite-ual Warriors’.”

Merla and Kruxeral share a surprised look. May’s delicate wings brush Merla’s cheek as she flies over to Cay and takes his hand.

“But think of the amazing adventures we’ve been on, thanks to our art, Cay! We met Princess Merla because of our art and now your old home is part of your current home and we are here to bring both sides together! You can finally face your Mom and she will have to acknowledge you!”

“Yeah…”

Somehow Cay looks even more deflated.

“Do not fret, young Cay,” Kruxeral says. “Between myself and Merla, we will find a way to mend the gulf between you and your family – and perhaps settle things with the rest of the sprites as well!”

Cay gives a halfhearted nod. Merla isn’t sure if that’s what her friend would want but he isn’t saying no.

Deciding to leave things be for the moment, Merla tries to spot where the Summer Court encampment is and sees them on a plateau not too far away. She was once again struck by an overwhelming sense of vertigo but she was prepared for it this time.

“I understand why we were given all of these,” she says, patting her handy satchel and slightly changing the topic. May gives her a little smile as she guides Cay to a huge leaf beside them.

“So we can be the same size as those we are here to revel with?” Kruxeral asks, picking up on her cue.

“Well, yes. I was more referring to the vertigo this valley is making me feel. It will probably go away once we are more to scale with the lands we are in.”

The satyr gives her a brief look of concern.

“It is rather dizzying, yes…” Kruxeral looks up to Astra, who is also giving her mistress her own worried look. “Perhaps we should speak with the commander from the Summer Court first. Get a better idea of what we are walking into.”

“Yes, let’s do that first.”

---

The humidity coiling through the air made it hard to determine what was sweat on her skin or the collecting condensation from how damp the air was. It felt like they should be underwater yet the vibrant purpley-blue stone under their feet was dry as any desert.

Merla, Kruxeral, Astra, May and Cay were currently in the shaded pavilion of Commander Anthea, she of the Inglorious Company. The fae-bard was surprised at first seeing the roguish eladrin was the one who had led the campaign in the Damphenite Tangle, the centre of the Spriteland Valley. But unlike her tall companion, Roxane, it seemed Anthea had no standing grudge with Merla. In fact, what started out as an icy greeting quickly turned warm as the conversation progressed.

Being home to the most war-like of the fair folk, sprites were known to be aggressive and knew how to pick a fight. However the denizens of this particular valley had found a way to temper their aggressiveness through the use of meditation circles which were seen everywhere in the great twisting and winding canyon, where the Damphenite crystal deposits were the most dense. These places were where their great spiritual warriors – or ‘Sprtie-ual Warriors’ as May kept mis-naming them – would train.

Anthea offered them some sweetened iced tea in her pavilion in an attempt to stay cool. May and Cay had their own little cups but whilst Merla and Kruxeral caught up with Anthea, the two tiny fey were enjoying some fresh berries the size of their heads.

“‘I will hold this land until I pick a fight with someone my own size.’ Quite a clever Compact really. It was simply a matter of drinking one of these,” Anthea gestures to a collection of potion bottles filled with a clear liquid and a tiny bead that kept retracting and expanding, “and then provoking their quarlani’omah*, Nathalie Walnut, enough that she wanted to fight me. It was an outright brawl.” The eladrin’s eyes glittered as she said that last part in a way that reminded Merla of the time she faced off against the rogue in the Dust Bowl.

“Was it only the two of you that fought?” Kruxeral asks, taking a deep drink of his tea.

“Oh stars no. The moment the fight started between myself and Nathalie, the rest of the sprites leapt to their weapons and charged us,” Anthea tells them. “It was quite the battle – tiny fliers zooming through the canyons at breakneck speeds, the sun blocked out from so many arrows – it would have given even you pause, Lady Merla.”

“It sounds like it was a glorious campaign. I am the lesser for not having witnessed your great victory Anthea. But I would enjoy hearing you tell it in greater detail at some point.”

There is a slight flush to the eladrin’s cheeks though she does her best to dampen it with a casual smile. Kruxeral notices and he gives Merla a subtle wink.

“Yes, I am afraid you did miss out but I can spare the time to tell you – perhaps after the Revel?”

“It would be a pleasure,” Merla says, inclining her head. “But speaking of, how are the folk here after such a battle?”

Anthea’s smile dims, eyes flicking over to Cay and May on the table between Merla and Kruxeral. “There were a few casualties on both sides.” Merla takes a small intake of breath. The two tiny fey look up at her. “But the sprites are on the side of Summer. As I am sure you’ve seen in other places, once the Compact is resolved things tend to settle rather quickly. Although… I have heard that Nathalie’s ego is quite bruised.”

Cay goes quiet and May asks him what’s wrong. He doesn’t answer.

Kruxeral leans forward. “What do you mean? Were any Unspoken Rules broken?”

“Nothing like that,” Anthea reassures them. She turns to look at Merla and the fae-bard sees the quiet stillness that is her trademark come over her. “These lands have been under attack for a while… by the River King.”

Cay goes still. May looks between Anthea, Kruxeral and Merla. The fae-bard raises an eyebrow at the eladrin and it makes her features cut sharper lines across her face.

“Let me guess. Ulorian wants to throw down some rivers in this beautiful valley because it would lend itself so well to his aesthetic.”

Anthea gives a small, humourless laugh. “Pretty much. Water sprites, kelpie and all manner of water-ilk fey have been constantly attacking our fierce friends for decades, centuries even. I wouldn’t have expected it of the Wandering King but after his embarrassing defeat at the Duel, apparently he has been redoubling his efforts to gain some kind of Prestige. We managed to get wind of their plans. They were looking to summon rivers that would wash out the entire region.”

“And not a care would have been given if it destroyed the Damphenite Sprite’s homes, so long as Ulorian got what he wanted.” Merla’s lips form a sharp line. “Pompous, pediculous prick.”

Kruxeral lets out a laugh. Anthea raises her glass to her, toasting to the great alliteration. Merla notices Cay take off to go over to Astra. May looks at her, Merla nods, and then the tiny pixie flies over to join her friend. The two start to braid the winged unicorn’s mane silently.

“Do we need to worry about Ulorian still?” she asks, turning back to Anthea.

“No,” she reassures them. “Now that this valley is part of the Summer Court, the River King will back off.”

“Good.”

Kruxeral stands, offering her a hand. “Well, my dear Merla, should we start making our preparations?”

“There is one more person I would like to speak with,” Merla says, placing her hand in his as she stands. “Anthea, where might I find the quarlani’omah?”

---

Merla had been right, once she was the same size as May and Cay – which delighted them both to no end – the dizziness of the labyrinthine canyons dissipated. Cay explained it was part of the reason many Bigger Folk found it difficult to fight the Sprites.

“The rock is both our guide and our protector. There are stories that some of the mightiest Warriors were so in tune with our valley that they were able to travel between the Realms.”

“Like how I do with my magic?” Merla asked him.

Cay thinks for a moment, lower lip sticking out. “Mmm, sort of? It was said the Warrior’s spirit travelled more so than their physical body.”

“Interesting!”

“How come you’ve never said a peep about these legends before, Cay?” Kruxeral asks, coming up beside the sprite and draping a companionable arm around his shoulders. “You know I am a lover of stories and though I have heard my fair share of tall tales, these sound absolutely fascinating!”

“Well, I can, um, tell you… It just-” Cay looks at May, her arms threaded through Merla’s. She gives him an encouraging smile. “I’m not sure if I should. These stories are from when I was training and we are told not to share our secrets with those outside.”

Merla lays a hand on his arm. “Our homes are one now. Though like Kruxeral I would love to hear these, we will build a rapport with the Sprites first. Show them they can trust us.”

“Yeah,” Cay says, relaxing a little. “Yeah that sounds like that should be good.”

“Making me wait for a good story? You’re so mean, Merla,” Kruxeral messages her.

She sees his eyes are sour apple green and lit with a teasing light. Her stomach flutters.

“I can make you wait for a lot more if you don’t behave,” she replies, one side of her mouth tipping up.

Kruxeral raises a challenging eyebrow but says no more.

It takes them some time to find the fierce spiritual warrior and leader of the Damphenite Sprites. Cay was acting as their guide but it became clear the more winding bridges they crossed and the more tunnels they passed through her friend was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. At first, many of the sprites they passed were friendly, some even recognising Merla and Kruxeral to the slight surprise of the fae-bard. It was as they approached a large meditation temple that Merla noticed there were no more friendly smiles.

She was determined to find the common ground that would unite them. Speaking to people who were independent and courageous, who have faced a world so much larger than they day after day with no fear was truly inspiring. Who in their life hasn’t felt small at least once? The Damphenite Sprites knew what they were capable of. It had taken a lot for Anthea to win the Compact, despite how easy she made it sound. The sprites had been independent for so long and there was no way of knowing for sure, but one day Ulorian could have overpowered them. It was a fine line that she needed to walk, barely wider than a blade’s edge. But Merla knew she could do it. More than that, she wanted to, least of all because this was what she believed would help restore Balance to the Feywild. But now she had the added motivation of helping her friend.

“So. You come at last.”

Nathalie stood at the top of the rock and crystal steps that lead into the meditation temple. Her hair, warm brown threaded with golden yellow, is done up in braids, with only her fringe loose and free. Cool, grey eyes looked down at them as she stood with hands on her hips, scanning their group. When her eyes come to Cay they narrow ever so slightly.

“You. I know you…” Eight golden yellow, brown with blueish-purple veined wings pinion out and she flies down to stand in front of Cay. He tries not to fidget as she studies his face. “You’re Sterel’s son. Hmmm.” Nathalie sniffs, lifting her chin as she comes to stand in front of Merla. “Funny, I thought you’d be taller.”

“I have been known to stand taller than I do currently,” she says with a pleasant smile. “But I have been all manner of sizes before.”

“And you, satyr,” Natalie takes one step to the left and is in front of Kruxeral. Her eyes fall down to his belt. “Got some fancy pipes and a fast mouth do you?”

“I have been known to have nimble fingers and an even quicker mouth.”

“Bet that hasn’t gotten you into trouble at all.” Kruxeral smiles but Nathalie seems to see right past it. “I know your type. I’ll only speak with her.” She indicates Merla.

Kruxeral grins. “Good luck.”

Nathalie doesn’t respond, just turns and begins walking back up the stairs, clearly expecting Merla to follow.

“Behave,” Merla messages Kruxeral, recognising the look in his eyes.

“Why would I do that when I enjoy seeing the laughter in your eyes when I don’t?”

Schools her face to not show the actual smile that nearly broke across her face as she walks up the stairs, easily catching up with Nathalie.

As they reach the top of the steps Merla at last gets to see the inside of one of the temples properly. Pillars of the Damphenite crystal soar up to a high ceiling, holding up the stone of the canyon they are in. It is surprisingly light in here despite being well within the canyon itself. Merla sees reflective mirrors that help reflect the light throughout the room so as to not have torches and she appreciates the cleverness of it. Between the pillars are many tropical plants, even more vibrantly green than those outside. It takes Merla a moment to realise what the pillars, plants and the circular shape of the temple reminds her of.

A faerie ring.

The circular stone floor is empty but Merla sees veined patterns in magenta, purple and blue threading through the rock. The more she looks at it though the more she is convinced she sees the veins shift and writhe ever so slowly.

Before she gets too lost in the sights though Merla turns back to face Nathalie. The sprite leader doesn’t even look at her, just scans the meditation temple as if cataloging where everything is.

“So you want to plan a revelry,” she says, almost bored. “Fine. Do it. But I can guarantee all those you see here will not come. We are warriors not merrymakers.”

“What is a battle but another form of dance?” Merla asks.

Natalie’s eyes narrow though she still does not look at her. “Do not spout nonsense like he would,” she says, gesturing in the direction of Kruxeral below them.

“Do not presume to speak down to me because you perceive me to be weaker than you, quarlani’omah,” Merla says, her words sharp like steel.

Nathalie stops and appraises Merla anew. The warrior sprite’s eyebrows raise slightly as she sees the air ripple around them. As quick as the shift in the air came, it fades away but there is a presence to Merla now that makes Nathalie pay attention.

Merla nods, a slight lift to her lips as she studies the temple again. “How long have you been fighting against the Wandering Court?”

“Since my great-grandmother’s time,” Nathalie answers.

“Have there been any further attacks since Summer’s arrival?” Merla asks, turning around to face Nathalie, despite knowing the answer already.

There is a long pause. “No.”

Merla holds up her hands. “It is too early to tell if there will be another attack, I know.” She locks eyes with Nathalie. “But hear me now when I say we feel the same way about Ulorian as you do.”

“You speak of the Duel…”

“I do.”

“But that was Queen Titania who challenged King Ulorian,” Nathalie points out.

“It was, yes, but it was I, her daughter, that brought the Wandering King to heel with my allies.”

There is a pause as the two study each other.

“So this revelry…”

“It would not be a Summer Court revelry without music and dance, but that will be secondary. The main event will be the tale of how I, the Daughter of Summer, along with my mortal friends and companions from the Dawnlands, kicked Ulorian’s ass in a very public duel.” Merla smiles. “How does that sound for a revelry?”

Nathalie pretends to consider it but Merla can tell she is eager to hear the details, amongst other things.

“We will not have enough room in this meditation temple for everyone to hear such a tale. But there is another, older place that could work…”

Merla inclines her head. “It would be my honour to tell this tale in one of your great temples. Perhaps even your ancestors will deign to listen.”

Nathalie gives Merla a curious look but the fae-bard doesn’t give anything away.

“Yes… I will speak with my people. Wait here.”

Nathalie flies off to speak to a couple of Sprite Warriors which had casually started creeping closer as they spoke. Soon there is a flurry of activity as more sprites fly off in various directions.

During the sudden flurry of activity Kruxeral comes over to Merla.

“What did you say to convince her?” he asks, half amused, half impressed.

“Just that we have more in common than it may have appeared.”

“Which is?”

Merla smiles.

“Though they be but little, they are fierce.”

*quarlani’omah – spiritual leader