The Once and Future Monarch – Sheryl, the Fae-Touched – 3.02

---

Merla had a plan. It was a rather genius plan, something the fey would find amusing if they were able to see past not only the physical but the character disguise she planned to don.

She was still persona non-grata in the Summer Court – something she had been rudely reminded of when speaking to Roxane at the Dust Bowl Dance. However, as she had said to Kruxeral himself she needed to find there himself, she may be banished, but that would not stop her from helping in any way I could. She just could not be herself, she needed to become someone else.

The most believable lies are the ones woven with truth – yet another thing Merla has learned from the fey. They cannot lie outright and if she ever tried to utter one in the Sylvan tongue her throat would close up, choking her. It was easier to lie when speaking in Common or Elvish, but recently even that leaves a hard lump in her throat. So she needed to have a disguise, something that would play to her strengths and would allow her to weave half truths. But most importantly, not get her caught out.

BB had been to the Summer Court before, even meeting Kruxeral on the first time she accompanied Merla home nearly a year before. That was Merla’s starting point. From there she came to the idea of disguising herself as a firbolg, and pretending to be BB’s cousin. That was the lie. The half truth was simple: the wildlife and lands around their home were struggling due to some unforeseen sickness. BB’s cousin was sent out to find music from across the realms and on her travels got wind of a master who’s students excel in the art after they have been in his tutelage. Thus, when they got to the Summer Court, it would be easier to seek out Kruxeral.

Making use of her recently acquired skills with weavers tools and her expertise in disguises, Merla created a series of prosthetics and an outfit that she would wear. Some fey, in particular the Archfey, had truesight. That meant any magical disguise she wove around herself would be easily seen through, exposing who she truly was. That was why Merla decided upon something a bit more practical by disguise standards.

Consulting with BB meant she got a run down on firbolg culture and naming practices, what sorts of outfit embellishments and mannerisms she could adopt with this persona. It was rather sweet truth be told, seeing BB talk about her home, family and what sort of life she lived before her Path drew her to Kantas. Merla was careful not to pry too much, it was not necessary for what she needed and BB, though happy to talk about her home, had a look to her eyes that told Merla of old hurts best left for another time. Still, she made sure to express her gratitude to her dear friend after their conversations each time.

It took time to put on this disguise, during which Merla explained her plan to Faye, BB, Ghesh, Pieni and Zeenah. When she was finally done BB gave her two big thumbs up, whilst Faye and Zeenah looked at her in appreciative admiration. Merla started gathering the rest of the items she needed, putting them into her handy satchel, as she explained the final key parts of the plan.

“The moment we leave these rooms you cannot call me by any other name you know me by,” Merla said. “You must call me Gorgeous Green, or GG for short.”

“Oh boy, uhh… I don’t know if I can remember that,” Zeenah started, a frantic look to her eyes.

“You must, for my safety if not for your own,” Merla said firmly.

Zeenah gave a little nod.

“Are we ready then?” Ghesh asked.

“Just one more- No, wait. Two more things,” Merla said.

She picked up her oud, bending her fingers to form a somatic shape for shielding as she strummed her fingers across the strings. “Sgiâth cridhé*,” she sang softly. A gold light emerges from underneath the moss and flowers covering the imperial topaz gem of her circlet, swirling into the shape of a small shield that looks like a leaf. It hovers between her brows for a moment before falling back to splash in a ripple of magic against her forehead.

Slinging the oud across her back, Merla picks up two small potion bottles with a tiny beads of red that are continuously expanding and shrinking. She uncorks one of them, tips her head back and drinks. The next moment she is double her height, towering over everyone except BB.

“Now, I’m ready.”

* mind/heart shield

---

The Song… It’s been so long…

Merla feels her heart squeeze and a tension in her shoulders ease as she breathes in the heady air, basking in the warmth of the sun, music filling her ears. She takes this moment for herself, indulging in it, riding the wave of giddy anticipation from being home again. Five moon cycles, that is how long it has been since she stepped into the evergreen fields of the Summer Lands. She did not know how she managed a whole year and a day away from this place before.

This is not my homecoming, she reminds herself, tilting her head up to the hot, blazing sun above and closing her eyes. Not now, but soon.

Merla was savouring the familiar warmth of the sun when she and the others heard two familiar voices speaking to Pieni.

“It’s you again! The blue bird person!” calls the voice of a small female pixie.

Merla opens her eyes. Astra is instantly alert.

“What is it Merla, what’s-”

“Hey, how’re ya doin?” a small male sprite asks.

“It’s May and Cay!” she exclaims, recognising the two small figures flying down with Pieni. “They’re alive and in the Summer Court!”

---

The song was hauntingly beautiful, sung by a female voice that wove around all in the valley between the evergreen hills. It is not often that Merla is struck by another’s song but this one threatened to take her breath away. It was then she recognised who it was. The most sought after singer in the entire Summer Court, if not the whole of the Feywild: Lady Alanaya. She knew of the songstress ever since she started learning music under Kruxeral, and had even at one time dreamed of singing on stage with her. Years of performing and Merla still felt Lady Alanaya’s music struck her like it was the first time.

The eladrin songstress held the final note longer than would be possible anywhere but in the Feywild, such is the skills of the First Coloratura of the Summer Court. The gathered Folk burst into raucous applause, Merla joining in with them. The Lady bowed once more and then gracefully stepped off the stage.

“That was… something else,” Ghesh said breathlessly. They all nodded in agreement.

A familiar figure steps onto the stage, wearing elegant robes of green and gold, embroidered with masks of many expressions in threads of orange and purple, swirling around symbols of music in teal and blue. Merla’s enthused clapping comes to a stop before the others as she watches the figure, the divide that has been struggling to tear her apart coming to the forefront. He bows when he gets to centre and flashes a charming smile that sends Merla’s heart racing.

“Assembled friends! Thank you so much for attending our soireé tonight,” Kruxeral addresses the crowd, his voice carrying across the distance with practiced ease. “Thank you to our host, the Queen Tylba, for making the space available to us. This really is a wonderful chance to bring all of us together, to show that so much unites us rather than divides us in these difficult, difficult times. I know so much has been happening, so much is on our minds – but let us take this evening to rest, knowing that all of us are safe and sound because Queen Titania protects all of you.”

Applause rises once again, but it sounds different this time. It is polite, certainly not everyone is enthused with Kruxeral’s words. Merla does not pay it much mind in that moment. She watches the satyr closely, trying to read him, whilst a war of hearts rages within her, each side trying to rise above the other for dominance in her mind.

Kruxeral bows again, continuing, “After this wonderful performance from our very own Lady Alanaya, the First Coloratura of the Summer Song let us begin the Great Dance.”

He gestures with a grand wave to a collection of fey with various instruments, almost hidden from sight. Now that she knew to look there, Merla saw their vantage point provided the perfect view of what was becoming the dance floor.

Then the music rose up from the very grass beneath their feet, like a wave washing over everyone. Fey begin to line up for the beginning of the dance but Merla did not move to join them. She looks back to the stage, intending to head straight towards him, only to see Kruxeral vanish into the crowd.

Faye leans in towards her, seeing the frustrated bend to her brow.

“Perhaps we should put on a show and allow him to come to us?” they suggest. Merla looks at them, intrigued. “Surely, he might be able to recognise your dancing, maybe even know some steps that only you’ll know?”

“Hmm,” she says, frowning again. “It’s possible. What exactly are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking we show these fey how to really dance,” they say, a sparkle of mischief in their eyes as they wink at her and hold out a hand.

Merla grins wickedly.

“I like the sound of that,” she replies, taking Faye’s hand.

---

Joining a fey revelry has been known to be fatal to mortals, a fact that Merla forgot to mention to the others before being swept away by the dance. Perhaps it was because this was not a Revelry of that variety, it was something of a more diplomatic fete. Still, even in disguise, towering over Faye in their summer form, Merla could not help but throw herself into their gambit.

Their dance was dycotic as it was euphonic, a melding of the highest forms of Summer and Winter Court dances that was a thrilling tug of war and playful chase across the dance floor. Faye’s natural flair drew many an eye whilst Merla’s persuasive dancing had others trying to mimic their movements.

She dips Faye back and they are spinning away for a new rotation of the dance. Her own steps carry her a distance, when suddenly she is facing a new partner – a face she had seen recently on the stage.

“Lady Alanaya!” Merla exclaims, slightly out of breath. She feels a flush unrelated to the swift steps of the dance creep up her neck as she takes the fair eladrin’s hand in hers.

It is one thing to gaze upon one of your idols from afar, wishing one day to be as great, if not a greater singer than them. It is another thing entirely to suddenly find yourself dancing with them in disguise whilst trying to find the one who taught you everything you know about music. To say Merla was unprepared for this moment was an understatement, but she recovered as quickly and as gracefully as any natural performer would so that Lady Alanaya did not even notice.

“Hello,” Lady Alanaya says, the inflections of her voice the very tones of choral music. The warmth of the Lady’s smile disarms her a little, but either from the spell she cast on herself earlier or her own resilience, she reminds herself that in this moment she is not Merla. She is GG.

“I have not seen you here before. You must be new?”

“I am,” Merla says, thankful they are speaking in Common and not the fey-tongue. “Your song from earlier was breathtaking.”

She gives a short but lovely little laugh. “Oh thank you. I would say that flattery is tiresome but, to be honest, I just cannot get enough of it.”

“You are worthy of it when you sing songs such as that.”

“So what brings you here? What are you thinking about all that is happening?”

Merla tilts her head to the side, hiding the curiosity at being asked the question by making it appear like she’s thinking as they continue to dance in circles across the floor.

“There’s a lot going on… and I don’t know as much as you who are living in the Summer Court. But change is ahead, is it not?”

“Change is always ahead. Change can be a good thing.”

“It can be. But it can also be very dangerous.”

Lady Alanaya thinks about her words for a moment and then smiles.

“If there is one thing I have learned from music it’s that repetition of the same note at some point gets… stale.” The songstress wrinkles her nose a little. “Maybe a change to sunnier climes is positive for all of us.”

It wasn’t a question, but the way Lady Alanaya phrased it certainly made it seem like one. If Merla did not agree, it would be very telling. With everything going on with the Cabals and Unseelie Fey plots, she had not given much time or thought to what might be the greater scheme: Which court will Rise Ascendant over them all?

Would it really be so bad if Queen Titania became the one who ruled over all of the Feywild? She was strong and just. She had not rushed to judgement against Merla when the evidence was piled against her, despite how easy it could have been to do so. Her Queen Mother also values the things that all Seelie Fey do and fights with everything she has to protect those in her domain. If that extended to the whole of the Feywild, then maybe – just maybe – the Unseelie Fey and the Cabals that plot to overthrow everything the Fey Courts stand for could be stopped.

They just had to be routed out first.

“I could get behind that,” Merla says sincerely.

Lady Alanaya gives her another smile and says, “That’s wonderful.” She gives a light push to Merla’s back and she begins to spin away. “I have enjoyed our dance. I hope I will see you again.”

---

Merla spots Kruxeral as she and Faye join up with the others. Her eyes find him like a light in the dark, and she sees he is just about to leave the party proper. She sends a quick Message to Faye who passes it on to the others to follow but not too close. She does not want to frighten him into running away, and perhaps he will be more willing to open up to just her. As she winds her way across and around the dance floor Merla reaches out to Astra.

“Kruxeral is leaving the party. Now is my chance to speak to him. Are you able to come?”

To her surprise, when Astra replies Merla can hear a note of distress in her voice.

“I’m sorry Merla, I have to continue this. My father is not pleased.”

“With what?” she asks, surprised.

There’s a slight pause. A knot forms in Merla’s gut.

“To be honest… with my association with you,” Astra admits, almost unwillingly. “He thinks that it is not good for me to be known as your companion. I am-” she gets cut off. A moment later Astra continues, preceded by a sigh of frustration. “Sometimes parents can be so overeating. I am fighting for us. But I think you will have to go on without me.”

Merla keeps moving but she sees she will not be able to catch up with Kruxeral on her own. “Alright.”

“I will join you as soon as I can,” Astra promises.

“Please do. But no rush – do your best to convince him.”

“I will. There is nothing that will keep me from you. Nothing.”

Merla can’t help but smile at that.

The smile fades quickly as she crests the hill she saw Kruxeral walk up only to see he is much farther away than she thought. Without Astra to help her, even at a run, Merla wasn’t sure she would be able to catch up to him.

It was then she heard the sound of soft bells as the mighty footfalls of a giant elk, antlers decorated with small chimes and ribbons came up beside her. Elchior, Faye’s mounted companion, dips their head down and Merla realises they are offering a ride. She is not sure where Faye is but she thanks them both as she gets on the huge creature.

Elchior is fast. Unbelievably fast. The stars in the clear night sky hardly seem to move, as they race down one green hill, over and around another. The Master of Revelries is just about to step into a copse of trees, fairy lights strung through branches when Merla on Elchior step across his path. Her heart is racing, not because of the wild dancing she did before, nor from the high speed in which Elchior ran to get here. This is something else. She doesn’t have time to identify it though as Kruxeral looks at her, no recognition anywhere in his eyes, and he smiles.

“Oh! Hello.” He looks to Elchior. “Handsome fellow you are. What can I do for you?” he asks her.

The pounding in her chest gets louder as she gracefully dismounts.

“I believe in you Sheryl, you’re my friend and I know you can face this. You’re strong.”

Faye’s voice in her mind surprises her. She could feel the positive affirmations they were trying to give and that she did not know she needed to hear. It helped to quieten the war raging in her heart a little.

“Master of Revelries,” she says, glancing around as she bends forward at her waist in a bow common to people of the Material Plane. They are alone for the moment, no sign of her friends that she could see but she knew they were close. Merla straightens up.

“I have heard you are a great teacher and mentor to aspiring artists.”

Kruxeral’s grin widens as he winks at her. “I dare say there is something I could teach you.”

“Really?” she says falling into the familiar banter but still having an edge of uncertainty so as to not to give away who she is yet. “What do you think you could teach me? You’ve just met me.”

“I have an eye for such things,” Kruxeral says proudly. “You move very well and you have a lovely voice. But I’m sure there is more we can tickle out of you, with the right tricks, of course.”

His verdant eyes capture the glow from the small fairy lights in the trees as he appraises her – Not me. GG. He does not know it is me. – and Merla feels a heat rise unbidden. She tries to banish it, not wanting to let herself get persuaded by his eloquent words.

“Would it help if I did a demonstration?” she asked, the hesitance in her words genuine. She could do this. Faye believes in her. The others are nearby. They are here for her. “I’m not from around here, but maybe you’ll hear something in it?”

“By all means,” Kruxeral says with a gesture. “I love a little private show.”

Merla carefully unslings the oud from her back, taking slow, calming breaths as she brings the instrument into position.

Then her fingers began to dance.

It was quick and frantic, everything within her apprehensive and nervous heart coming out in fleeting minor notes. It barely felt like she was picking the strings and yet the rhythm made by the music was like a river swiftly building into white water rapids. Kruxeral listened, his head cocked to one side as the picking became strumming, each downbeat a break of water against unmoving stone. Merla closes her eyes, and then carefully, slowly lets go of the torrent inside her.

Then she began to sing.

It wasn’t with words. There were no consonants, barely even vowels. It was not unlike the movement of air if truth be told, caught in a maelstrom. It was powerful, raw and untamed, a howling wind that whipped over the roiling ocean of her oud, rising and falling with the sturm and drang.

She nearly kept going on this stormy course but then, a light, a memory of another time she performed just for him despite the audience arrayed around her. The building storm of her song quietened and when she opened her eyes, Merla saw dawning recognition in Kruxeral’s eyes.

        Your eyes, so crystal green
        Sour apple baby, but you taste so sweet
        You got a smile like arrows and dancing feet
        And I wonder if you’d like to meet

They stood there, the memory of that night hanging between them. The night she had taken the first step towards him not as a mentor, but as a lover.

And she subtly casts a spell to Detect his Thoughts.

“Hello Kruxeral,” Merla says in Sylvan.

She reads in his eyes and from the surface thoughts of his mind surprise, shock, and embarrassment, but also an elation at realising who it is standing before him. Her heart aches for him in that moment.

“Merla is that you?” he asks, his smile changing into a more genuine one.

“Did you not recognise my song?”

“There is no way I could forget it. I would know it anywhere. I’m sorry, I was just-” gestures to her seven and a half foot tall form, green painted skin, green dipped, dark brown hair and expertly applied prosthetics “-taken aback by your disguise.”

“I needed to see you and I assumed you would be in the Summer Court. I thought it best to not come looking like myself.”

“Smart. Though here in the Emerald Holt I don’t think anyone would have minded.” He shifts on his cloven feet. “But in the Summer Court, yes, I could see why you did it.” His green eyes look her over and it’s like he can see past her disguise to who she is underneath. It’s very intimate and a flush comes to her cheeks. “It’s wonderful to see you again. How have you been? How is everything? I am… so sorry for the way things went back home.”

Thrown by his words and the look in his eyes, Merla doesn’t know what to say for a moment. The spell detecting his thoughts tells her he is being genuine, even more so than when she had last seen him in the Feyverge. And yet…

“I’m fine, Kruxeral but…” She must keep focused. “I came here to see you. I could have sent you a message but I wanted to surprise you.” Merla takes a small step closer to him. “I have been doing a lot of work, trying to clear my name. As you know, being banished from one’s home is… hard. I want to be able to come home again.”

Her spell picks up a feeling of nervousness coming from Kruxeral. “Of course. Who wouldn’t? It’s a terrible fate.”

“I began to wonder…” She takes another step closer. “Since our reunion at the Feyverge I have thought about you, about us. And then I thought of when I saw you in the crowd after my Queen Mother gave her sentence.” She is closer now, within touching distance but she doesn’t reach for him. “I saw relief on your face Kruxeral. Why?”

“It… It could have been so much worse. The evidence against you, it was damning. I am glad the Queen showed mercy.”

“Did you want to see me banished?”

“I wanted to see you live.”

Merla searches his face, the familiar lines of his laughing eyes and mischievous mouth are taught with tension, like a brittle bowstring, drawn back to the point of snapping.

“Why? Why do you care so much?” she asks as her heart starts pounding again.

Kruxeral looks deep into her eyes. It is like the entirety of the Enchanted Forest is looking back at her, searching her as much as she is searching for something in him.

“Do you… Do you really not know?” he asks.

Her heart bangs harder against the cage of her ribs, a frantic bird trying desperately to escape the brittle bones that encase it.

“I need to hear you say it,” she whispers.

Kruxeral takes her hands, winding his fingers through hers. The trees, the grass, the air, even the stars seem to be holding their breath with her in anticipation.

“Merla, I love you. This is why I want you to live. I don’t know what I would do if the Queen sentenced you to die.”

She did not need any fey magic or mind reading spells to know that Kruxeral was telling her the truth. It was there, in the air surrounding them. The song, the music she heard when they had shared their first kiss. It was louder, more profound than any other variation she has heard before. This was Their Song and it came from their hearts.

“Then help me. Help me clear my name, Kruxeral, please.”

“Anything,” he vows.

Merla holds onto his hands a bit tighter. “I need to know- And please, tell me honestly because…” Their song continued to weave around them and it brought a smile to her face. She took comfort in it being there, as a sign that she was ready to say what she truly felt. “Because I love you too. I have for so long…”

An elation of such heights is reflected in Kruxeral’s verdant eyes that mirrors her own. She wishes she could stay here in this moment, but she cannot. Her smile fades as does her relief. There are still answers she needs from him.

“Do you know anything about the Black Heart Cabal?”

As Merla mentions the Cabal’s name Kruxeral’s grip tightens on her hands before letting go. Though he does not step away, the open warmth in his eyes recedes and she feels the swell of music trickle away. Its absence is felt like a sky with no sun, stars or moon. It leaves her feeling cold.

“I have heard of the Cabals, but they are extremely secretive,” Kruxeral replies. As he speaks, she feels his nervousness crashes into her again. She had forgotten her spell was still active.

“Why are you so nervous?” she asks point blank and his green eyes widen a little. This time it is her grasping his hands, pulling him close as she keeps pressing onward. “I know the Cabals are frightening. I know what they do and I know the type of fey they are. Why are you so scared?” Merla softens her voice, making sure he can see her concern is not just for her, it is for him as well. “You can believe in me, trust in me. I can help protect you. You said it yourself, I have grown stronger. I can help protect you Kruxeral. You can rely on me.”

There is a long pause as he looks at her, his strong fingers gripping her hands tighter, almost painfully as he struggles with something.

“If you really knew what the Cabals are like and how they operate, I don’t think you would be saying that,” he eventually utters. Was that doubt twisting through his words?

“Then tell me. Help me understand. I need to understand,” Merla implores him. She brings their clasped hands up to her lips and kisses them. He clenches his jaw, wood-brown features becoming hard as oak as he continues to wrestle with something he won’t share with her.

Merla had hoped Kruxeral would tell her, or at least assuage her doubts on the matter by now. But his carefully chosen words have gone on long enough. They both have been dancing around the question. It was time she asked it and found out exactly what sort of man, what sort of fey, he was.

But when he answered – if he answered her – would she still be able to love him? Would her heart even give her a choice?

“I heard a rumour, one I did not want to believe was true, that you know about the Cabals because you’re-…” Merla is unable to finish that sentence, a lump in her throat forming. It is pure, raw emotion.

He lets go of her hands before she can gather herself and steps away.

“The Cabals are a plague on the Seelie Courts,” Kruxeral enunciates, each word said carefully. “They come and they go, always hidden. You never quite know who to trust and who might be of them, or what it is they are trying to achieve.” He takes a deep and cautious breath. “They are not tolerated, but they are also hard to stamp out.”

Merla steadies herself. She knows her spell is nearly done. It is now or never.

“Kruxeral, are you part of the Black Heart Cabal?”

“No. No I’m not,” he says with vehemence.

As he speaks Merla pushes her mind forward and finds no resistance. She sees in his eyes and feels from his mind a sense of great upheaval, the emotions and thoughts he has been struggling with finally too much for him to hold back. It takes every bit of her own resolve not to be staggered. There is no hiding anything anymore as he knows that she finally knows.

The careful façade Kruxeral has tried to maintain comes crashing down.

“I can’t. I can’t. I can’t do this. I can’t lie to you. I-…” he clenches his fists as hot tears spring to his eyes. “I’m not with them anymore. But I admit it, I was.” He takes a step forward, reaching out to hold onto her, grasping at her hands like a lifeline, desperately wanting to make her listen, to hear him out. “It was a terrible mistake. A moment of weakness when we were apart. I just-…” He looks up at her. “I was so jealous, filled with hurt and regret and so much anger that you would choose not to come back to me, but rather to stay on the Material Plane!” An echo of that memory is seen briefly in his eyes but then it is gone. “I am so sorry. I feel ashamed.”

Tears falling freely, Kruxeral glances at their clasped hands. Merla can see all the pain and regret he has held onto in his verdant green eyes and she feels her heart break for him.

“I left them. I broke my bonds with them when you were coming back. When we… When we reaffirmed our… friendship.”

He looks up at her, his expression raw. This is a Kruxeral she never knew, had never seen before. Not for the first time in her life Merla is silent, unsure what to say, though her thoughts and emotions are a hurricane.

Unexpectedly, Faye’s voice comes into her mind and asks, “Will he confess to Titania?”

Before she might have known the answer but now, this new Kruxeral, tortured by the choices he has wrought by his own hands might do something different. But could Merla ask that of him? Who is to say that Kruxeral’s word would be enough to stay her Queen Mother’s blade of judgement?

Maybe there could be another way.

“If it’s not proven that I am innocent I will still be executed for treason, Kruxeral,” Merla begins. “I am trying to clear my name. I want to live, to continue creating music, to go on adventures and… to be with you. I have wanted that… and there is still a possibility that could be in our future.”

Through teary eyes he says, “I hope so. I don’t know what we can do to make this right but I want to try. I want to try and make it right.”

“Good,” she smiles. Tears begin falling from her own eyes, like starlight. “Remember what I said: We can grow together. We can be better together. I am here for you, Kruxeral, as I have always been, even when I’m on the Material Plane.”

He smiles at her words, reaching up to wipe away her tears and cupping her face in his palm.

“I hope so. Your words give me strength,” Kruxeral said softly, a gentle warmth in his eyes. Then his brow furrows and his hand falls from her face. “I’m not sure what we can do. I don’t have any proof I can present and if I go to the Queen, it is just my word. She might as well decide to-”

“Then help me find the Black Heart Cabal,” Meral entreats, interrupting him softly. “Help me find Archon Varra. She was the one who murdered Arvel Morningdew. Help me. Prove to me that you are worthy of my love again.”

Kruxeral is shaking but he holds her gaze.

“I don’t know where they are, but I think I can lead you to them.”

“How?”

“The Cabals are strange. We do not know each other by name. We feel each other.” Kruxeral’s brow furrows as he searches for the words, trying to explain it so she will understand. “We share a common space, a common mind. Our purpose leads us to each other and connects us. I think there may be a way I can let you in, even though I have tried to bar up that door a long time ago.”

Doubt creeps into her thoughts and Merla is not sure in regards to what. This was something she did not want to decide to act on without advice from her friends. Glancing in what she hopes is Faye’s direction, Merla indicates for them to come over. Before she has even finished the gesture they are at her side, embracing her tightly. A small sound of happy surprise escapes her. The others, seeing Faye’s quick and non stealthy response, begin to make their way over.

Faye turns to Kruxeral and the warmth in their stance leaves their summer form as they set their considerable scrutinising gaze upon him. Kruxeral slowly releases Merla’s hands and her palms feel unexpectedly exposed without him.

“If you connect her with this Cabal, what is to stop you from then saying that Sheryl was always part of this group?” Faye asks cooly. “That you heroically connected yourself so that Queen Titania could find her way to them?”

Kruxeral shakes his head. “That’s not how it works,” he says with a glance to Merla. “We share a Mind Palace. You cannot find it if you are not of the Cabal. There is only one way in for you as a person.”

He looks at Ghesh and Pieni as they come up beside Faye before giving a deflated sigh.

“When I was at my lowest, when I thought that my greatest student, the one who had surpassed me, left it all behind I was filled with so much jealousy, regret, anger… and hatred. I opened myself to something I did not know existed and heard the music. I heard the Song. It led me to a dark corner in my own mind. There, I found a gate that had never been there before. That is where I found them.”

Kruxeral looks to Merla as he says the next words, though he speaks to everyone.

“You cannot find this place if you search for it. You will only find it if you give your heart to it.”

The full weight of what he did, the choice Kruxeral made, and how her actions had affected him, lead him to make such a reckless and dangerous decision finally hits her. She thought she knew before, she thought she understood. She thought she was blameless. But every choice, every action has consequences, especially on the ones we love.

Faye steps forward, and to his surprise, takes Kruxeral’s hand in theirs.

“She never gave up on you, I need you to know that,” they say. “I am of the Winter Court and Sheryl or Merla or whatever you call her has always sung with the joy of Summer and brought that to the Material Plane. So much so that I love Summer, someone who is directly opposed to it.

A small, fond smile touches his lips. “That has always been her greatest gift.”

Faye nods, pressing on. “You say that she has abandoned that gift just because she remains on the Material Plane but she is no longer in an echo chamber. She is out there, creating and bringing more people into the fold. This is what bards are meant to do.”

“Yes. I see that now,” he says. The smile fades but there is acknowledgment in Kruxeral’s eyes as he meets Faye’s gaze. “There is no greater shame that I have ever known than when I realised my mistake.”

Faye nods again and lets go of Kruxeral’s hand. BB and Zeenah have finally joined them, hearing the last part of this confession. Merla is quiet, still not sure what to do. Kruxeral reads this in her silence.

“I don’t know who the other conspirators are,” he says to her. “That is not how it works. I can lead you to them, but you will have to trust me. You will enter my mind to pass through the small gate.”

She takes a breath. “If I do that will there be a gate that opens in my mind?”

“I don’t think so,” Kruxeral says, shaking his head. “It should not happen for it is only open to those who have accepted the bargain. To my shame I have. I have tried to close the connection but I know in the dark recesses of my mind that the door still remains. It is boarded up but… I know it is still there.”

Merla relaxes a little with the knowledge that this would not open her own mind and heart to the Cabal.

Then a thought occurs to her: What kind of bargain did the Black Heart Cabal offer Kruxeral? And on the heels of that: Is there a way she can free him of it?

---

Colonies of green and blue mushrooms grow in clusters of various sizes and density around the pool of still water where Kruxeral has led them. A fragrant mist rests over the ground and as they walk through, it disperses in small eddies behind their legs and before settling down again.

Kruxeral explained how he planned to use the spores of the mushrooms from the Fungal Grove to allow Merla and Faye to access his mind so they could face the Black Heart Cabal in their Mind Palace. At first everyone wanted to come with her, but he raised a very valid point – that if they all entered Kruxeral’s mind, not only would that leave them exposed here, but he would not be able to sustain their shared connection together and Merla was not about to have him risk his mind for her, despite how the others might feel about it.

The three of them settled down under a particularly large mushroom that appeared to be vibrating, almost like it was breathing, though how a mushroom could breathe Merla did not know. Many spores gathered underneath it’s canopy, drifting up in a nose tickling puff clouds. Merla softly clears her throat, shooting Faye a quick look. They catch her intent and they graciously turn away, allowing her a brief moment to speak to Kruxeral before they begin.

“Kruxeral,” she says softly and he turns to her. Merla comes in close, her eyes falling to his lips before looking up into his viridescent eyes. “Thank you for doing this. I’ll see you when we come back out,” she vows. Then she leans in and kisses him.

The worry in his eyes retreat a little is soft as she pulls back to smile softly at him.

“I don’t know you,” Faye begins, making Kruxerl look at them. “But if Merla likes you, you must be very special.” They rest their hand on his arm and a fiery look enters their eyes. “Don’t you hurt her.”

Kruxeral nods. “That’s the last thing I ever wanted to do.”

Faye lets go, shooting one last look to Merla before lying down. Kruxeral turns to her, nodding for her to do the same.

“Lie down, close your eyes, take my hand, and breathe…”

---

Sleepy topaz blue eyes slowly drift open. Light surrounds the small woman who stretches languidly on the gigantic, downy bed. A darkly tanned hand touches someone beside her and she softly rubs away the sleep still in her eyes as she rolls over to get closer to who it is. It is someone important, someone she loves. She touches frost covered armour and she pulls back from the biting chill.

Then it all comes flooding back.

Merla sits up seeing it is Faye she was reaching for, Kruxeral nowhere to be found. She looks down at herself and sees she is who she normally is. She tries to see where the light is coming from but a baldaquin of luxurious fabrics drapes over the bed the two of them are on. Looking around the room is a flood of deep colours, exuberant details, grandeur and movement that creates a sense of awe in her that borders on ecstasy.

Then her eyes find Kruxeral standing in the centre of the room, where he stretches a little, watching her carefully.

“I never thought I would have visitors here,” he says quietly as Faye also sits up, looking around. Kruxeral blinks and Merla sees his familiar host smile light his face, though there is a worry line between his brow he cannot hide. “Please, do make yourself at home. I wish I could offer you some refreshments but… I think we have something to do.”

His cloven feet make no noise against the hardwood floor as he moves towards a great double door. Merla climbs out of the bed, light feet moving just as soft and without sound. Faye falls into step beside her just as Kruxeral pushes open the doors.

They enter a great hallway and the same grandeur continues along its length. Kruxeral moves at a steady pace, but the paintings catch Merla and Faye’s eyes as they walk past. It takes but a moment for her to realise what she is seeing. When she does it stops her in her tracks.

Memories. Beautiful, moving paintings of memories, all of them of moments between Kruxeral and her. It is clear from the set of his shoulders Kruxeral is proud of what he has constructed as he leads them on. It is a living, breathing, art gallery of memories, of a life tied to another person’s. Merla feels drawn in to each moment, reliving the memory from her own mind but seeing and feeling it from Kruxeral’s. It brings tears to her eyes.

There is a memory of the first day she came to the Summer Court. There is another, a scene of Kruxeral teaching her how to play the harp. Farther along there is a moonlight washed kiss in a wood paneled room in the Four Fair Winds. There are so many memories from their time together through the years, each moving painting a moment seen through his eyes.

There is one memory that flits between her teary-eyed, frightened face, and cold shouldered, back as she walks out of her chambers in the Perihelion Palace. Kruxeral looks away from this memory, choosing instead to quicken his pace, to lead them on. Merla glances at Faye and they are studying the memory closely. She gives it one more look then quickly moves on.

Hallways stretch on into forever yet Kruxeral leads them on without hesitation and without stopping. Left, right, winding staircase up, and slanted incline down. Merla tries to see everything she can. She notices details in the architecture, in the way the light touches their skin, the way that certain halls and rooms have scents as they walk through.

Eventually they reach a branch, a wing that is unkempt and disordered in a way that sets the hairs on the back of her neck rising. It is long and dimly lit. Yawning at its end is a low, unmarked door, boarded up. As they approach a deep foreboding rises within her and Merla catches his arm, making him stop.

“Kruxeral, if we open that door what is it going to do to you?” she asks, a quaver to her voice she wishes she could banish. It keeps wanting to draw her eyes.

“I don’t know,” he admits. His breaths are shallow as his eyes too keep getting drawn into looking at the door. He forces himself to look away, resting a hand over hers. “But I think if we want to put a stop to this then we will have to start here.”

Merla gives him a long, meaningful look, tears gathering in her eyes. But she does not let them fall. She has to stay strong. For herself and for him.

She lets go of his arm.

Kruxeral goes up to the door and starts prying off the boards and chains one at a time. When they are gone and it’s just the door he looks back at her briefly before turning the handle.

---

I know this place. Why do I know this place?

The Mind Palace of the Black Heart Cabal should not be familiar to her and yet Merla could not help but feel like she had been there before. It was nagging at her, in the back of her mind. Something that when she tried to reach for the memory it would disappear like smoke. Surely, that was impossible though. Until recently she did not even know the name of the Cabal.

But then why was this place so familiar?

Merla looked up, topaz blue eyes trying to see the night sky, the moon, any form of light. But it was full dark and there were no stars in the dark forest that she could see, the canopy overhead too dense to look past.

Mama… I’m scared…

Merla shook her head, confusion at what that voice was and why it sounded just like-

They suddenly hear music coming from a clearing. Stepping over the grass that gave puffs of stimulating fumes with every step of her light feet, the three of them saw a pale figure deftly playing the violin on a giant stone slab. The song is piercing and sad yet full of passion and purpose. It permeates everything in the clearing. Something tries to worm it’s way into their minds but Merla, Kruxeral and Faye all resist whatever the figure was trying to do.

The figure suddenly stops and puts down the violin. She stands, and it’s easy to see the many blades strapped to her lythe form, bald head with ritual scarring and dark almost black leathers. Faye bristles whilst Merla’s expression turns hard knowing exactly who this is.

“I see you return to us, Kruxeral. And you bring guests!” Archon Varra tuts. “You know we do not like guests. But then, you have changed your mind about us, haven’t you?” She leans forwards and sneers at him. “You were always weak. But you fulfilled your purpose, as all tools do!”

“Your former colleague has brought you a representative who may gain the ear of the Queen of the Winter Court. Is that a failure?” Faye interjects.

“It may prove useful, but our business is elsewhere,” Varra says dismissively. She waves her hand at them. “Kruxeral here always thought he would have other choices to make, other options. Well, we have planned for this for a long time.”

Her gaze comes to rest on Merla, though she continues to speak to all of them.

“Yes, we had such hopes for you, such plans. Time and effort we have invested in you. I always said to Mother Mave that you should not put all your eggs in one basket. Yet here we are.” She grins hungrily at her. “And an omelet we shall make.”

Merla’s eyes are alight with storm clouds, such is the building energy of righteous wrath within her. Archon Varra meets her gaze with her own, wild and hideous anger.

“Fight or die, Merla, there are no other choices. There never was.”

The scars on her head suddenly light up, twirling and twisting. As they do Merla feels her magic, all magic around them, drained away. The shock of it leaves her reeling.

“Surprised?” Varra smirked. “This is my house. I make the rules here.”

Merla takes a steadying breath, moves in front of Kruxeral and then darts forward, drawing her blade, calling out an inspiring battle cry to Faye to join her in the fray.

The fight is quick and brutal, Archon Varra calling more cabalites from the dark woods and they all converging on Merla. Faye does their best to help her, whilst Kruxeral declares he will not concede to Varra, attempting to arrest control of the Mind Palace from her. But even as Merla tries to call upon any reserves of magic she has, nothing answers. Then it felt like her body was on fire and she screamed in agony. It was after it stopped that she realised both Faye and Kruxeral had experienced it as well.

That could only mean one thing: Their friends were under attack in the Feywild.

Still, Merla danced, steel gleaming in the twilight. But it wasn’t enough. She could feel herself weakening. Her voice was getting quieter. Kruxeral and Faye were calling her from far, far away. Blades tore at her armour, slicing into skin. She was surrounded, hands reaching out, gripping her limbs, rough skin leaving marks on her tender flesh. She was just a small thing, scared and alone, with no one to help her, lost in a wood darker than night. The unseelie fey let out a blood curdling cry of excitement.

Kruxeral. Once her mentor, then her lover, now her… what? Will she get to know? Or will this be their end?

Faye. Brave, true and kind friend, even when they might disagree. She wants to help them rescue their Mum. They are to work together to stop an all out war between Winter and Summer. But she is falling to her knees, dying in a place where there is no light, no love.

Love always finds a way…

Her blade slips from her hands. Merla feels herself get lighter, the weight of her body no longer imprisoning her. She begins to float. Yet something reaches out to her, a familiar darkness, full of soft, feathered shadows that brush at her cheeks. It’s comforting as it wraps around her like a cloak. Dark taloned hands hold her close, brushing the sweat stained hair and blood away from her face almost gently.

“As does Fate.”

Merla is thrown back into her body and she feels every ache, every pain, cut, bruise and wound. But all of them pale in comparison to the ice cold fire that erupts in the dark scars on her back.

A cry tears from Merla’s throat, the sound a cacophony of ravens.

Dark wings burst forth from her back. From the great shadow she throws even in this familiar, gloaming place, creatures of darkness and nightmares crawl out, congregating around her, hungry and ready to tear at flesh.

In a body that no longer feels like her own, Merla stands up. Wings of shadow beat the air as pitch black eyes lock onto Archon Varra and the Cabalites. Shadows cling to the panes of her face, the creases in her flesh and the tips of her fingers. Merla can taste the fear coming from them and it makes the shadows hungrier.

“No!” Varra shouts. “This is not how we planned. This is not why we marked you!”

A voice from the Grave speaks from the shadows.

“You thought yourselves clever enough to manipulate me, to make use of my power! You will wish you never tried. Taste the rotten fruit of your labours and rue this day, when the tables are turned.”

Then the nightmares of the Shadowfell begin their hunt.

The shadows that held her aloft leave her, beginning their pursuit of Archon Varra and the cabalites. Merla collapses to the ground on her hands and knees, limbs shaking, a cold sweat covering her entire body. From the corner of her eyes she sees Faye make a swipe at a retreating cabalite before two shadow creatures leap up and tackle them to the ground. The cabalite begins to scream before a juicy crunching sound silences them forever.

Merla tries to stand, using her rapier as a crutch. She is still a bit out of it so it takes her a moment to realise Kruxeral is calling her name.

“Merla! You must go! I can try to wrest control of the Mind Palace from Varra, but-” he stumbles and clutches his head. She sees the strain of what he is trying to do in the sheen of sweat on his brow.

“No…” she says, her voice weak. Merla takes a stumbling step towards him. “No, I’m not leaving you.”

The satyr doesn’t answer, his focus entirely on Varra. Merla looks and sees she is surrounded by the Raven Queen’s shadow beasts and monsters. The light of her ritual scars keeps flickering and with each swipe from the nightmares it gets weaker. The ground beneath her feet rumbles and Merla sees parts of the Mind Palace starting to unravel. Kruxeral either needs to wrest control or they need to get out of there, now.

“I am not leaving without you!” she shouts.

Merla sheaths her sword, tries to utter a word of healing for the three of them but her magic is still being blocked. She feels a panic start to build in her but she squashes it firmly and fiercely. She looks at Kruxeral and she can see it is taking every last bit of his will to hold on.

“Merla, please… Save yourself…”

She is shaking her head when she sees Kruxeral’s eyes widen as he tries to shout a warning. Too late. Merla turns just as Varra leaps at her, somehow having pushed past the Shadowfell nightmares.

An elongated claw of shadow latches onto her leg and jerks back, causing her to fall forward. Varra screams in rage and tries to kick at the shadows but their incorporeal forms are not deterred. Merla watches as they slowly start to pull her back, Varra’s scream of rage turning to panicked fear as she scrabbles to grab onto something, anything. Three nightmares await her, their gurgling hunger a low hum. Merla cannot look away as all three descend upon her at once.

She feels it the moment Varra dies because her magic returns to her. She turns back to Kruxeral, a smile brightening her face, when the ground heaves beneath their feet again.

The Mind Palace is starting to collapse.

Merla is shaking her head, feet already running towards him, but she knows she won’t reach him in time.

“Kruxeral please, don’t do this.”

He smiles, and it’s the one that is hers and hers alone.

“You will always be my Heartsong. I love you, Merla Copperkettle.”

With the last of his willpower, Kruxeral throws Merla and Faye out of the Mind Palace as it collapses around him.

---

The others are checking the bodies of the cabalites that were attacking them in the Fungal Grove. Merla has not left Kruxeral’s side since their return. BB was doing a prayer of healing beside her, the divine magic bestowed to her from Egel helping to heal her body.

If only it could be used to heal her broken heart.

Kruxeral is still alive but nothing in their arsenal of magic or bags of tricks wakes him up. No amount of diamond dust or healing or anything. Wherever he is, he cannot return to his body at this time.

Which means he is trapped in the Mind Palace.

BB’s prayer ends and Merla feels the burns on her body from the fireball that hit them melt away. She thanks her friend, but it’s more of an afterthought. After everything they did, after Kruxeral’s sacrifice to get her and Faye out of there, what does she have to prove her innocence?

“Seems like most of these guys are fey from all over,” Ghesh comes over. “Not that I’m an expert but that’s what Faye suggested as they looked at them.” The dragonborn looks around at the number of bodies and winces. “It feels weird to just leave them here. Who’s going to clean up? Isn’t this, like, a place for kids or something?”

“It is. I’d say we should go but…” Merla trails off as an idea pops into her mind. She looks to her friends and tells them her idea. She explains it might be risky but it could have high rewards. To her surprise, no one objects.

Grabbing her oud, Merla strums a C major chord, humming an octave higher as she casts the first message of Sending.

“Femaer, just slew a contingency of Cabalites in the Emerald Holt. Archon Varra, Arvel’s murderer, also slain. Need assistance with clean up. Send Green Knight.”

There is a long moment, before a short reply comes back. “He rides for you now.”

Merla gives the thumbs up for message one.

She strums another C major chord, casting the spell again.

“Master of Revelries wounded from the battle. Unsafe for him to remain in Summer, will bring him to the Material Plane, with me.”

Merla keeps concentration up for as long as she can but Queen Titania does not respond. Her brow furrows and she gives a half shrug and nod that says, Well, she didn’t say no…

A third and final C major chord is strummed once more as she casts her Sending spell.

“Black Heart Cabal seeks your demise. Archon Varra murdered Arvel to silence him. Mentioned a name: Mother Mave. No physical evidence yet. I’ll continue investigating.”

There is yet another long pause, and then the voice comes back firm, but proud.

“You have done it, daughter! You have the culprit, you have the puppeteer, and most importantly, you have shown me who would dare turn the Queen-” There is the briefest of pauses, and she continues without missing a beat, her voice growing more venomous. “-of Summer against her own daughter! Unseemly cabals have often threatened our stability, but to be so bold. This is unconscionable. They will rue-” “-the day the Summer Court rises ascendant. We will scour the Feywild of their corrupting, foul influence, undermining the beauty we hold dear. Keep going.” “There is a reunion we are due – things to say, but we have much to do. Annihilate these Black Hearts. I have troops to mobilise.”