Remain Nameless – Sparks-in-Shade – 20.06.2023
Jun 25, 2023 23:03:30 GMT
Riah, stephena, and 2 more like this
Post by Sparks-In-Shade on Jun 25, 2023 23:03:30 GMT
The door bursts open at the Fiore Popolare, the renowned cocktail bar in Daring Heights' Castleside. In the doorway, silhouetted against the morning sun of the summer solstice, stands the Kenku Sparks-in-Shade. He looks flustered, with his oversized raven familiar Mac grasped tightly in his arms. Sparks is wearing a long dark coat and finely made travelling trousers. He has a bright gold whistle attached to a chain around his neck.
Mac leaps from Sparks's grip and begins hopping around between the chairs and tables, exploring the new sights and smells. It's a long time since he's been here and much has changed.
Sparks walks to the bar, taking in the scene. The interior of the Fiore Popolare is adorned with every kind of flower Sparks can name, and many that he can't. A spectacular stained-glass window depicting a beautiful dryad occupies the wall behind the bar, and a suspended glass ceiling hangs overhead in the shape of a great copper flower.
Pulling up a stool, Sparks places his elbows on the bar and thinks back to the Githyanki attack last year. He's walked past Evenbloom Street dozens of times since this part of town was razed by dragon fire, and he knew that this bar was among the parts of Castleside that suffered the most on that awful night. He shudders at the memories: Kavel ripping a dragon's head clean off, Derthaad desperately attempting to counter a disintegrate spell. His own failure to save a friend and watching her die before his eyes.
A loud thump sounds behind him. Sparks turns to see Mac has knocked a chair over. "Mac, don't do that--" he begins to chide his familiar, but turns back to see a red-haired woman smiling expectantly at him from the other side of the bar, a metal cocktail shaker in her hand and a long, twisted bar spoon tucked behind one ear.
"Welcome to Fiore Popolare I'm Leona. Leona Autumn." She hesitates for a moment "Wait. I remember you: Sparks-in-Shade, you helped me with my midwinter cocktails a few years ago."
Sparks smiles "It's good of you to remember. And it's good to see you, Leona. The place looks rather different from the last time we met." He pauses to read her reaction. "I gather we were both made homeless for a time in last year's attack, but I'm glad you're back in business."
A sadness glosses Leona's eyes for a moment "Well, yes. I suppose it was hard for everyone back then.” She busies herself about the bar, seeming to want a moment to compose herself. She places an empty glass on the bar in front of Sparks “But I expect you're here for the job I posted. I’m glad you came. Can I get you something while we wait for the others?"
"I'll take a Goblet of Fire please." Sparks says, a wide grin spreading across his black beaked face.
"Excellent choice, coming right up." Leona turns her back to him, and Sparks watches her reach behind the bar, up to the higher shelves. She takes down a jar of dark berries, a glass bottle filled with a rich gold liquid, and a pot of honey. She flicks the bar spoon from behind her ear, washes it carefully and begins mixing the ingredients.
Sparks hears the front door open, and before he can look around the Air Genasi Glade has somehow appeared next to him. *She’s almost as swift as another Child of the Wind that I know...*, Sparks thinks to himself. Glade takes a seat next to Sparks. The branches and flowers growing from her hair match the floral arrangements in the bar so well that she looks like she was born in the Fiore Popolare.
“I know why you’re here Sparks.” Glade looks down at Sparks’s drink shimmering in shades of red and gold on the bar. “But I did not know that you and Leona are acquainted.”
The Kenku begins his reply but is cut short by Leona, who is standing next to the door, carrying an enormous wicker hamper that clinks and rattles with every step she takes. “I’m glad you’re early, but the notice said to meet at Portal Plaza. It wouldn’t be proper to be late for this party: we should make for The Heights at once.”
As they reach Portal Plaza, Leona begins negotiating with the duty mage while Sparks’s eyes drift across the crowd. They fall on a pair of adventurers talking and laughing together. A tall, moustachioed Human that Sparks doesn't recognise... and a summer Eladrin that he does. Yinmaris. The last time they adventured together was facing agents of the Queen of Air and Darkness.
At that thought, Sparks’s hand goes to the black mark on his lower back. Almost imperceptible against his black feathers, he had received it as a boon from the Queen in recognition of service to her. At the time it had felt right, like he deserved it… but recently a sense of unease crept over him whenever he thought about it.
Lady Autumn beckons the other two adventurers over and they introduce themselves. The human reveals he name as Matches, with a rakish smile. Leona produces a tray of takeaway cocktails from somewhere in that enormous hamper, and then raises her voice, addressing the four adventurers. “Thank you all for coming today. I’m sure you’ve all read the notice I posted, and I know some of you have experience with this kind of job. For the summer cocktails menu at Fiore Popolare, I have an idea that needs some very specialised ingredients from the Summer Court. That is where we are going. Today is the Summer Solstice, a very important date at the Perihelion Palace, and it’s an unmissable opportunity — in fact, I’ll be coming along personally.”
“We‘re looking for three ingredients for my new menu: Summertime Lemons, The Royal Gardener’s special Absinthe, and Summertime Grape wine. Some will be easy to find in the Feywild… some will take a little ingenuity. Time is running short, so please follow me, the Portal is ready for us.”
Suddenly, Sparks-in-Shade is falling. The sound of rushing wind roars in his ears. Vertigo grips him as he looks down at the Feywild, distant below him but getting noticeably closer as he accelerates toward the ground. He looks around to see his companions falling around him as well, their faces just as confused as his own.
Sparks sees Yinmaris begin to cast a spell to slow their fall, which fills him with irrational anger. Can’t he see we need to get down there quickly? We don’t have time to waste. A more insightful Kenku might have made the connection between this uncharacteristic behaviour and the tendency for Fey travel to influence the emotions. But Sparks sees nothing wrong with wishing for a swift descent given the haste he feels is needed in carrying out their mission.
Yinmaris’s spell is interrupted by the sound of laughter. Glancing around, the Eladrin is first among the group to realise what has happened. “Very funny, you’ve tricked us.” he turns to Sparks “A little illusion prank to welcome us to the Feywild.”
Sparks raises a feathered hand and casts dispel magic, breaking the illusion to reveal the group standing on solid ground. They find themselves on a hillside, the bright summer sun beaming down on them. The air is pleasant and warm, and the groups is surrounded by flowers in the lushest meadow Sparks has ever seen.
In dispelling the illusion, their audience is revealed: a gang of giggling Satyrs. The creatures express momentary disappointment at their illusion’s end, then resume their laughing as the party take in their surroundings.
Sparks tenses up ready to attack, but both Glade and Yinmaris raise their hands to him, gesturing to stand down. “Such things are common here in the Feywild,” Glade says, her soft voice full of confidence and wisdom. The Satyrs, realising their targets were now on their guard, sloped off giggling and muttering among themselves.
Once she was confident that the delinquent satyrs were out of earshot, Leona addressed the group “We are now in the Feywild. Not far from our destination: the Summer Court. Navigation here is rather different to Kantas: to find our way we must imagine the place we wish to go, and simply begin walking. Please fill your thoughts of summer and wine and revelry, we should reach the Court shortly.”
They began their march together with heads full of the promise of the greatest party they’d ever attended. Time passed… or perhaps it didn’t? Sparks was struggling to keep track of how long their journey was taking, but none of his companions seemed uncomfortable and he decides to enjoy the scenery as best he can.
The wind carries song, dance, laughter, smells of citrus. As the group crests a hilly meadow, they see a giant castle glistening in the distance. Sun-yellow bricks and vertiginous spires stand out against a turquoise sky. The wildflower meadows of their march give way to tended fields of sunflowers, too vast and numerous to count.
Sensing awe in the group, Yinmaris fills the silence “That is the heart of the Summer Court, where Queen Titania sits on the Throne of Summer: The Perihelion Palace.”
As they continue their journey toward the sprawling castle, Leona begins briefing them on what they can expect at the Solstice Celebrations. She dwells on the Master of Revelries. "Kruxeral, he's a handsome satyr, the master of celebrations and parties in the summer court. He has quite a reputation and is famously flirty. It seems that the Queen of Virtue and Virtuosity is his partner, but I’m not sure how recent that information is… and relationships in the Feywild are famously fluid."
Yinmaris, who is walking ahead, smiles at Leona’s description and turns back to the group trailing behind him "Ah the Court of Harmony. The melodies and rhythms there really are very special. I must visit again soon; it has been too long since I had an audience with my Patron."
At the mention of Patrons, both Sparks and Mac shift uneasily. The make eyes contact and Sparks winces in pain as a burning cold sensation grips him, centred where the Mark of Air and Darkness has tainted his back for two years now.
Leona reacts and her bright demeanour turns serious. "Sparks, you have to hide the Mark of Air and Darkness here. And no one at the Summer Court can see that wand either. The Fey at court are powerful beings who do not take kindly to their enemies’ symbols being displayed -- especially at a celebration as important as the Solstice."
Sparks prepares to object but is interrupted by Mac, who suddenly ruffles his feathers and looks to the sky, as if seeing something that the others can’t. Thinking better of a confrontation in the Feywild, Sparks pulls his long coat tight and wishes he had dressed better for a walk through the heat of the Summer Court.
The group enters through the grand gate of the Perihelion palace and are greeted by a grand festival. Flags and standards in bright colours decorate every doorway and window, and sunflower yellow bunting criss-crosses each street like a thousand canaries overhead. As they follow a wide boulevard leading to the keep, they are greeted by all kinds of fey races. Gnomes, halflings, harengon, mortals, half-fey, elves, and satyrs. The castle town is a hive of activity and the sense of excitement at the arrival of the Solstice is palpable.
As they enter the Palace itself, they pass a great, white-winged unicorn. Attended by servants and hangers-on, Matches remarks that the enormous creature clearly seems very important. Sparks has never seen such a magnificent creature, and fights back the urge to stop and watch it slowly walk past.
They pass into the heart of the festival. Market stalls cover a central square that not only hosts the celebration but also features a vast green forest. While Glade, Yinmaris and Leona seem completely at home here, it takes every ounce of willpower for Sparks to hold back the sense of awe he feels at the spectacle before him.
Suddenly, Sparks is gripped by an unnatural feeling of urgency. He feels utterly compelled to pursue their objective as quickly as possible, to the exclusion of all else. He looks around insistently, his eyes falling on the greenhouse that has been set up for the Royal Gardener. A conversation is happening next to him, but he pays no attention. Kruxeral, the Master of Revelries himself, is standing next to them as Glade and Yinmaris subtly support her in meeting one of her idols. Clearly this is an important moment for Leona, but Sparks is finding it impossible to focus while they have a job to do.
As the conversation between Leona and the Master of Revelries begins to wrap up, Sparks grabs a hold of Glade and rushes them both off to the greenhouse. Glade protests momentarily, casting one last Guidance spell on the gregarious mixologist as they walk away, but follows. Perhaps she has sensed that Sparks is beginning to feel the effects of the Feywild, which is known to stir the passions and emotions of mortals in unpredictable ways.
As they enter the great structure of this greenhouse, Sparks recognises Queen Titania herself. He hasn’t laid eyes on the mighty, flaxen-haired warrior monarch since the events of the Ascension. Sparks had been there when Titania had lost out to Queen Nicnevin in the election for the title of Fey Ascendant. Yet, as he gazed at the glorious monarch in this moment it was impossible to imagine a being so beautiful and imposing ever suffering defeat.
As the companions considered the scene before them, a blue-furred Harengon turned to Glade “It’s soooo exciting! The Queen of Summer herself will judge the competition. The grand prize is unspeakably rare: only three bottles of the Royal Gardener’s special wormwood infusion were made this year, and the winner takes it all!”
“Then we shall enter and win with haste,” Sparks shouts triumphantly as Glade places a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to calm him. They move to the waiting area for competitors and are shortly joined by Matches, Yinmaris and Leona who seem incredibly pleased with the results of their conversation with Kruxeral.
As Leona and Glade step forward to ensure they can petition the Queen, Sparks and Mac both turn and are stopped by a vision that is exquisite even by the high standards of the Summer Court. Across the square, a woman is looking at them. Even with her face concealed in masquerade, it's clear to them that she is an Aarakocra and beautiful beyond measure. Both feel drawn to her. A moment in silence, then a tall fey man walks between them, blocking their view. As he passes, they look again to see the space where she was standing is now empty.
“Did anyone else see…” Sparks begins but is interrupted by a herald calling for Leona Autumn to receive the Queen’s audience. Casting one final glance around the crowd for any sign of the Aarakocra woman, Sparks walks reluctantly to the meet the others before the throne.
“Sorry. I was distracted by something. Errrr… what are we doing?” Panic grips the Kenku. “How are we going to win this? Leona needs that absinthe.” Sparks realises he has once again walked into a high-pressure situation without the faintest hint of a plan.
Yinmaris hands him a lute. “Can you play this?”
Sparks looks down at the instrument and touches the black marble bracelets at his wrists. “Uhhhh yes.” He twists the tuning pegs on the lute‘s headstock, plucks a few strings and looks up at Yinmaris, nodding.
“Then get up on that stage and try to follow what I’m doing.” Yinmaris barks with the urgency of an experienced performer, and they step up onto the stage in front of a vast crowd of fey creatures.
The next two and a half minutes pass in a blur of flute arpeggios, power chords, and improvised two-part vocal harmony as Sparks and Yinmaris launch into a music number celebrating the Queen of Summer. Yinmaris seems to know the name of every rival court and Sparks does his best to find subtly humorous ways of mocking each of them in Queen Titania’s favour.
As the song reaches its crescendo, the two performers share a glance at each other, then and look across the crowd. They are relieved to see their Fey audience is reacting well to this improvised spectacle. They see that during their performance Leona has stood before the Queen mixing a special cocktail, with Glade standing carefully behind her — clearly helping with magical means. The elaborate spectacle of Lady Autumn’s cocktail flair has drawn a crowd that’s just as large as the one watching their musical number. Off to one side, Sparks sees a group of Harengon looking dejected as they walk away from the main crowd. Matches seems to be waving them good-bye with a wicked smile on his face.
The song ends with a final triumphant chord as Leona’s cocktail — The Sunflower — is presented to the Queen of Summer in a halo of golden light. The Archfey carefully takes the offered glass and raises it to her lips for a single sip. A heavy silence grips the assembled crowd as she drinks.
“This one wins,” she says, gesturing to the adventurers and the crowd erupts in celebration. Matches and Yinmaris pick Leona up, their arms forming a makeshift sedan chair as they parade her through the crowd chanting her name. A wide grin spreads across Sparks’s face as he shares the joy and excitement of his companions. He looks down for Mac to congratulate him, but sees his familiar has taken to the air, and is flying in the direction of the vineyard. Concerned at this behaviour from his familiar, Sparks begins pushing past the crowd to reach him.
Sparks finds Mac in a quiet orchard on the edge of the vineyard. Mac is staring intently at a woman sitting lazily on a tree stump. Suddenly the noise of the crowd begins to subside, then falls to utter silence. A moment ago, they were surrounded by the murmur of a thousand festival-goers, now the only sound that remains is the soft summer breeze caressing the leaves above.
Sparks looks at the young woman on the stump. He sees impossibly perfect skin beneath a messy tangle of hair. A brightly coloured dress that seems perpetually about to fall from her shoulder, but never does. This woman is not what she appears. Sparks tells himself. She may seem little more than a child, but she has much in common with the celestial beings that we met with Tayz.
She looks down at Mac, and playfully takes a grape from a bowl laid out on a vine leaf on the ground next to her. She smiles, her face a pure image of delight and innocence. She looks up at Sparks as she crushes a grape between her thumb and forefinger, the clear juice running down her hand.
She speaks, her voice bright and clear as she looks up to the sky “The wind loved to dance, the air loved to fly. Their union is the storms.” Mac’s eyes follow hers to fixate on the same point.
She looks back at Sparks. Her eyes are mismatched, one is bright blue, the other a stormy grey. “I am Euphoria. Welcome, Sparks-in-Shade. Welcome, Mac.”
Sparks stares at her in awed silence. Her eyes are no longer mismatched but now unified in colour: they have become the same unnatural blue of Sparks's own eyes. When did that happen? Is this a trick? Sparks thinks to himself as he watches her reach a delicate hand up to her face. He gasps in horror as she seems to pull out her own eye… but when he looks again, he instead sees a blue opal held delicately in her fingertips. She places the stone in her palm.
Euphoria’s voice rises "Like bubbles we are, all echoing an endless storm. Always at risk of rupturing to air." She stands and walks toward them, reaches out and touches the Mark of Air & Darkness on Sparks's back.
She speaks again "Some are coupled in a rainbow journey." She presses down harder on Sparks' back. He falls to one knee as the cold sensation on his back turns to fire. Through the pain, he looks down and sees Mac twitching and writhing on the ground. He reaches out a hand to his familiar.
Euphoria looks down and smiles at Sparks, then her expression shifts from joy to profound sadness. "But bubbles... burst."
Sparks’s eyes fail him. Suddenly he is adrift in an infinite void, a sea of utter darkness. The only light he sees is a silver line, a shining tether reaching out from his chest and disappearing into the indescribable blackness. He hears a scream, impossibly distant but impossible to ignore. He wills himself forward, floating along his silver thread toward the rising cries of terror and agony.
Ahead, he finds the source of the sound. A figure, wrapped in the same infinite blackness that surrounds Sparks, but wrapped tight around them like a death shroud. Barely distinguishable against the darkness of this void, the figure thrashes against the shroud that covers it. Constricting. Binding. Suffocating.
Sparks sees a pale hand reach from within the veil and he seizes it. He feels his consciousness begin to fade as the incomprehensible blackness of his surroundings overwhelms his mind. He takes the hand in his own and pulls, but nothing shifts. He pulls again, and the hand slips from his and disappears into the dark veil once more.
The screams intensify as he looks around for another opportunity to free this unknown victim. He sees light emerge from within the veil, red like embers. The screams become muted, and Sparks realises the prisoner within this shroud is dying. The hand emerges once more, and Sparks places his gold whistle in his beak as takes a firm grip on the wrist with both of his feathered hands and blows the whistle.
Sparks’s Eagle Whistle sounds a clear, vibrato note that pierces the silence of this void. Of all the wonderful things that Sparks has been given since he came to Kantas, his Eagle Whistle holds the most sentimental value. All Kenku are cursed to dream of flying, and most are destined to die having never been granted the chance to experience it. But the holder of such an item can soar like its namesake, and whenever Sparks doubts the choices he has made, the engraved gold whistle reminds him of the friends that he has made. The kindness that he has both received and given.
He strains as he tries to pull the shrouded figure free and he looks upward, blowing his whistle. Suddenly he feels himself moving. Drifting, not deeper into this abyss but finally away, toward the beginnings of an escape. He grips his shrouded charge tightly. Unsure of where he is, he remembers the Fey navigation method described by Leona. Fixating his mind on his home and his housemate Tayz, the Cachette Corvidae. He fills his thoughts with his messy room and Tayz’s tidy one. Their kitchen filled with simple seeds and foods that other races would find bland.
His whistle sings and he sustains the note for as long as he can, all while pulling the shrouded one until his breath runs out. A storm rises around him, roiling and buffeting him as he tries to calm himself, to think warm thoughts of home. He senses a presence in this place, as powerful as Queen Titania herself, but pitiless, uncaring, capable of such cruelty. And he realizes the presence has been with him for a long time. He has felt it since Mac first joined him all those years ago. He had felt it strongest when he fought for the Ascension here in the Feywild, and when he had dismantled that Modron machine in the Shadowfell.
The Shadowfell. When he stood side-by-side with the Queen of Air and Darkness, the implacable Ruler of the Unseelie Fey. And, as he now realised, his Patron. The one who took his bargain without his understanding. The one who has owned him since before he even left Faerûn.
Horror grips him at this realisation before the mercy of unconscious takes over. As his mind fades to black, he hears Euphoria’s voice echo in the darkness…
“What does it mean when shadows wish for light?”
The sound of distant music and joyous revelry rises in Sparks’s mind. He opens his eyes to find himself back in the grove where his vision of Euphoria began. The mysterious celestial is nowhere to be seen, but Mac is by his side wearing a shocked expression on his familiar corvid face. Sparks’s eyes fall on a change to Mac’s wings: his pinion feathers are now a brilliant white, matching the shock of white near his left eye. Mac looks up at Sparks, seemingly relaxed at last. They stand up and make their way back to the celebration together.
As the pair arrives back in the central square at the Perihelion Palace, they find themselves entering the Summer Court’s Solstice Celebration in full swing. A drink is thrust into Sparks’s hand by a passing gnome as he makes his way through the press to the centre of the crowd. There he finds his companions again. Matches and Glade are dancing to Yinmaris’s flute. Leona seems to have commandeered one of the drinks tents and is mixing cocktails for all while a crowd of thirsty admirers looks on.
The year’s longest day plays host to the year’s longest party, as the companions take full advantage of both the Solstice and the Feywild’s unpredictable relationship with time. Despite the trauma of his encounter with Euphoria, Sparks finds himself buoyed by the revelry of the Summer Court and marvels at the seemingly inexhaustible stamina of its members, particularly Kruxeral.
In the early hours of the morning, Sparks finds Leona taking a rest from entertaining partygoers with her elaborate concoctions. It’s the first time he’s seen her sit down since he arrived at her bar the day before.
“Congratulations, Lady Autumn. A spectacular performance, and a cocktail that will be spoken of in the Summer Court for years.” Sparks raises a glass to her.
Leona’s face turns to shock as she realises that Sparks is no longer wearing the long coat he arrived in. “Sparks, you need to put that coat back on! If Queen Titania sees your Mark of Air and Darkness…” she trails off as Sparks turns around to show his back. The spot that once bore the mark of the Unseelie Regent is now empty: the same dark feathers that once hissed with her magic are returned to ordinary contours.
Sensing Leona’s shock, he empties his glass in a single gulp and fixes her with an intense stare. “I met someone powerful here. She took away the Mark. But she gave me something in return.”
“I see. What did she give you?” Leona smiles, intrigued at this gossip.
“She gave me certainty. Certainty and change.” Sparks gestures at his familiar’s new white feathers. “Mac is changed, too. And we're finally starting to understand why things have been this way for us. I’m glad I came on this job, Leona. Maybe one day I’ll be able to repay you for posting it.”
Lady Autumn smiles cryptically and clinks her glass against Sparks’s. “I’m glad you came here too, Sparks.”
Later, at La Cachette Corvidae...
Sparks-in Shade opens the door to the living space he shares with Tayz. He is carrying his long coat tucked over one arm, and he holds a glowing bottle in his hand. Realising that his friend isn’t home he walks across to Tayz’s immaculate desk and grabs a sheet of paper and a quill. He begins to write.
Mac leaps from Sparks's grip and begins hopping around between the chairs and tables, exploring the new sights and smells. It's a long time since he's been here and much has changed.
Sparks walks to the bar, taking in the scene. The interior of the Fiore Popolare is adorned with every kind of flower Sparks can name, and many that he can't. A spectacular stained-glass window depicting a beautiful dryad occupies the wall behind the bar, and a suspended glass ceiling hangs overhead in the shape of a great copper flower.
Pulling up a stool, Sparks places his elbows on the bar and thinks back to the Githyanki attack last year. He's walked past Evenbloom Street dozens of times since this part of town was razed by dragon fire, and he knew that this bar was among the parts of Castleside that suffered the most on that awful night. He shudders at the memories: Kavel ripping a dragon's head clean off, Derthaad desperately attempting to counter a disintegrate spell. His own failure to save a friend and watching her die before his eyes.
A loud thump sounds behind him. Sparks turns to see Mac has knocked a chair over. "Mac, don't do that--" he begins to chide his familiar, but turns back to see a red-haired woman smiling expectantly at him from the other side of the bar, a metal cocktail shaker in her hand and a long, twisted bar spoon tucked behind one ear.
"Welcome to Fiore Popolare I'm Leona. Leona Autumn." She hesitates for a moment "Wait. I remember you: Sparks-in-Shade, you helped me with my midwinter cocktails a few years ago."
Sparks smiles "It's good of you to remember. And it's good to see you, Leona. The place looks rather different from the last time we met." He pauses to read her reaction. "I gather we were both made homeless for a time in last year's attack, but I'm glad you're back in business."
A sadness glosses Leona's eyes for a moment "Well, yes. I suppose it was hard for everyone back then.” She busies herself about the bar, seeming to want a moment to compose herself. She places an empty glass on the bar in front of Sparks “But I expect you're here for the job I posted. I’m glad you came. Can I get you something while we wait for the others?"
"I'll take a Goblet of Fire please." Sparks says, a wide grin spreading across his black beaked face.
"Excellent choice, coming right up." Leona turns her back to him, and Sparks watches her reach behind the bar, up to the higher shelves. She takes down a jar of dark berries, a glass bottle filled with a rich gold liquid, and a pot of honey. She flicks the bar spoon from behind her ear, washes it carefully and begins mixing the ingredients.
Sparks hears the front door open, and before he can look around the Air Genasi Glade has somehow appeared next to him. *She’s almost as swift as another Child of the Wind that I know...*, Sparks thinks to himself. Glade takes a seat next to Sparks. The branches and flowers growing from her hair match the floral arrangements in the bar so well that she looks like she was born in the Fiore Popolare.
“I know why you’re here Sparks.” Glade looks down at Sparks’s drink shimmering in shades of red and gold on the bar. “But I did not know that you and Leona are acquainted.”
The Kenku begins his reply but is cut short by Leona, who is standing next to the door, carrying an enormous wicker hamper that clinks and rattles with every step she takes. “I’m glad you’re early, but the notice said to meet at Portal Plaza. It wouldn’t be proper to be late for this party: we should make for The Heights at once.”
As they reach Portal Plaza, Leona begins negotiating with the duty mage while Sparks’s eyes drift across the crowd. They fall on a pair of adventurers talking and laughing together. A tall, moustachioed Human that Sparks doesn't recognise... and a summer Eladrin that he does. Yinmaris. The last time they adventured together was facing agents of the Queen of Air and Darkness.
At that thought, Sparks’s hand goes to the black mark on his lower back. Almost imperceptible against his black feathers, he had received it as a boon from the Queen in recognition of service to her. At the time it had felt right, like he deserved it… but recently a sense of unease crept over him whenever he thought about it.
Lady Autumn beckons the other two adventurers over and they introduce themselves. The human reveals he name as Matches, with a rakish smile. Leona produces a tray of takeaway cocktails from somewhere in that enormous hamper, and then raises her voice, addressing the four adventurers. “Thank you all for coming today. I’m sure you’ve all read the notice I posted, and I know some of you have experience with this kind of job. For the summer cocktails menu at Fiore Popolare, I have an idea that needs some very specialised ingredients from the Summer Court. That is where we are going. Today is the Summer Solstice, a very important date at the Perihelion Palace, and it’s an unmissable opportunity — in fact, I’ll be coming along personally.”
“We‘re looking for three ingredients for my new menu: Summertime Lemons, The Royal Gardener’s special Absinthe, and Summertime Grape wine. Some will be easy to find in the Feywild… some will take a little ingenuity. Time is running short, so please follow me, the Portal is ready for us.”
Suddenly, Sparks-in-Shade is falling. The sound of rushing wind roars in his ears. Vertigo grips him as he looks down at the Feywild, distant below him but getting noticeably closer as he accelerates toward the ground. He looks around to see his companions falling around him as well, their faces just as confused as his own.
Sparks sees Yinmaris begin to cast a spell to slow their fall, which fills him with irrational anger. Can’t he see we need to get down there quickly? We don’t have time to waste. A more insightful Kenku might have made the connection between this uncharacteristic behaviour and the tendency for Fey travel to influence the emotions. But Sparks sees nothing wrong with wishing for a swift descent given the haste he feels is needed in carrying out their mission.
Yinmaris’s spell is interrupted by the sound of laughter. Glancing around, the Eladrin is first among the group to realise what has happened. “Very funny, you’ve tricked us.” he turns to Sparks “A little illusion prank to welcome us to the Feywild.”
Sparks raises a feathered hand and casts dispel magic, breaking the illusion to reveal the group standing on solid ground. They find themselves on a hillside, the bright summer sun beaming down on them. The air is pleasant and warm, and the groups is surrounded by flowers in the lushest meadow Sparks has ever seen.
In dispelling the illusion, their audience is revealed: a gang of giggling Satyrs. The creatures express momentary disappointment at their illusion’s end, then resume their laughing as the party take in their surroundings.
Sparks tenses up ready to attack, but both Glade and Yinmaris raise their hands to him, gesturing to stand down. “Such things are common here in the Feywild,” Glade says, her soft voice full of confidence and wisdom. The Satyrs, realising their targets were now on their guard, sloped off giggling and muttering among themselves.
Once she was confident that the delinquent satyrs were out of earshot, Leona addressed the group “We are now in the Feywild. Not far from our destination: the Summer Court. Navigation here is rather different to Kantas: to find our way we must imagine the place we wish to go, and simply begin walking. Please fill your thoughts of summer and wine and revelry, we should reach the Court shortly.”
They began their march together with heads full of the promise of the greatest party they’d ever attended. Time passed… or perhaps it didn’t? Sparks was struggling to keep track of how long their journey was taking, but none of his companions seemed uncomfortable and he decides to enjoy the scenery as best he can.
The wind carries song, dance, laughter, smells of citrus. As the group crests a hilly meadow, they see a giant castle glistening in the distance. Sun-yellow bricks and vertiginous spires stand out against a turquoise sky. The wildflower meadows of their march give way to tended fields of sunflowers, too vast and numerous to count.
Sensing awe in the group, Yinmaris fills the silence “That is the heart of the Summer Court, where Queen Titania sits on the Throne of Summer: The Perihelion Palace.”
As they continue their journey toward the sprawling castle, Leona begins briefing them on what they can expect at the Solstice Celebrations. She dwells on the Master of Revelries. "Kruxeral, he's a handsome satyr, the master of celebrations and parties in the summer court. He has quite a reputation and is famously flirty. It seems that the Queen of Virtue and Virtuosity is his partner, but I’m not sure how recent that information is… and relationships in the Feywild are famously fluid."
Yinmaris, who is walking ahead, smiles at Leona’s description and turns back to the group trailing behind him "Ah the Court of Harmony. The melodies and rhythms there really are very special. I must visit again soon; it has been too long since I had an audience with my Patron."
At the mention of Patrons, both Sparks and Mac shift uneasily. The make eyes contact and Sparks winces in pain as a burning cold sensation grips him, centred where the Mark of Air and Darkness has tainted his back for two years now.
Leona reacts and her bright demeanour turns serious. "Sparks, you have to hide the Mark of Air and Darkness here. And no one at the Summer Court can see that wand either. The Fey at court are powerful beings who do not take kindly to their enemies’ symbols being displayed -- especially at a celebration as important as the Solstice."
Sparks prepares to object but is interrupted by Mac, who suddenly ruffles his feathers and looks to the sky, as if seeing something that the others can’t. Thinking better of a confrontation in the Feywild, Sparks pulls his long coat tight and wishes he had dressed better for a walk through the heat of the Summer Court.
The group enters through the grand gate of the Perihelion palace and are greeted by a grand festival. Flags and standards in bright colours decorate every doorway and window, and sunflower yellow bunting criss-crosses each street like a thousand canaries overhead. As they follow a wide boulevard leading to the keep, they are greeted by all kinds of fey races. Gnomes, halflings, harengon, mortals, half-fey, elves, and satyrs. The castle town is a hive of activity and the sense of excitement at the arrival of the Solstice is palpable.
As they enter the Palace itself, they pass a great, white-winged unicorn. Attended by servants and hangers-on, Matches remarks that the enormous creature clearly seems very important. Sparks has never seen such a magnificent creature, and fights back the urge to stop and watch it slowly walk past.
They pass into the heart of the festival. Market stalls cover a central square that not only hosts the celebration but also features a vast green forest. While Glade, Yinmaris and Leona seem completely at home here, it takes every ounce of willpower for Sparks to hold back the sense of awe he feels at the spectacle before him.
Suddenly, Sparks is gripped by an unnatural feeling of urgency. He feels utterly compelled to pursue their objective as quickly as possible, to the exclusion of all else. He looks around insistently, his eyes falling on the greenhouse that has been set up for the Royal Gardener. A conversation is happening next to him, but he pays no attention. Kruxeral, the Master of Revelries himself, is standing next to them as Glade and Yinmaris subtly support her in meeting one of her idols. Clearly this is an important moment for Leona, but Sparks is finding it impossible to focus while they have a job to do.
As the conversation between Leona and the Master of Revelries begins to wrap up, Sparks grabs a hold of Glade and rushes them both off to the greenhouse. Glade protests momentarily, casting one last Guidance spell on the gregarious mixologist as they walk away, but follows. Perhaps she has sensed that Sparks is beginning to feel the effects of the Feywild, which is known to stir the passions and emotions of mortals in unpredictable ways.
As they enter the great structure of this greenhouse, Sparks recognises Queen Titania herself. He hasn’t laid eyes on the mighty, flaxen-haired warrior monarch since the events of the Ascension. Sparks had been there when Titania had lost out to Queen Nicnevin in the election for the title of Fey Ascendant. Yet, as he gazed at the glorious monarch in this moment it was impossible to imagine a being so beautiful and imposing ever suffering defeat.
As the companions considered the scene before them, a blue-furred Harengon turned to Glade “It’s soooo exciting! The Queen of Summer herself will judge the competition. The grand prize is unspeakably rare: only three bottles of the Royal Gardener’s special wormwood infusion were made this year, and the winner takes it all!”
“Then we shall enter and win with haste,” Sparks shouts triumphantly as Glade places a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to calm him. They move to the waiting area for competitors and are shortly joined by Matches, Yinmaris and Leona who seem incredibly pleased with the results of their conversation with Kruxeral.
As Leona and Glade step forward to ensure they can petition the Queen, Sparks and Mac both turn and are stopped by a vision that is exquisite even by the high standards of the Summer Court. Across the square, a woman is looking at them. Even with her face concealed in masquerade, it's clear to them that she is an Aarakocra and beautiful beyond measure. Both feel drawn to her. A moment in silence, then a tall fey man walks between them, blocking their view. As he passes, they look again to see the space where she was standing is now empty.
“Did anyone else see…” Sparks begins but is interrupted by a herald calling for Leona Autumn to receive the Queen’s audience. Casting one final glance around the crowd for any sign of the Aarakocra woman, Sparks walks reluctantly to the meet the others before the throne.
“Sorry. I was distracted by something. Errrr… what are we doing?” Panic grips the Kenku. “How are we going to win this? Leona needs that absinthe.” Sparks realises he has once again walked into a high-pressure situation without the faintest hint of a plan.
Yinmaris hands him a lute. “Can you play this?”
Sparks looks down at the instrument and touches the black marble bracelets at his wrists. “Uhhhh yes.” He twists the tuning pegs on the lute‘s headstock, plucks a few strings and looks up at Yinmaris, nodding.
“Then get up on that stage and try to follow what I’m doing.” Yinmaris barks with the urgency of an experienced performer, and they step up onto the stage in front of a vast crowd of fey creatures.
The next two and a half minutes pass in a blur of flute arpeggios, power chords, and improvised two-part vocal harmony as Sparks and Yinmaris launch into a music number celebrating the Queen of Summer. Yinmaris seems to know the name of every rival court and Sparks does his best to find subtly humorous ways of mocking each of them in Queen Titania’s favour.
As the song reaches its crescendo, the two performers share a glance at each other, then and look across the crowd. They are relieved to see their Fey audience is reacting well to this improvised spectacle. They see that during their performance Leona has stood before the Queen mixing a special cocktail, with Glade standing carefully behind her — clearly helping with magical means. The elaborate spectacle of Lady Autumn’s cocktail flair has drawn a crowd that’s just as large as the one watching their musical number. Off to one side, Sparks sees a group of Harengon looking dejected as they walk away from the main crowd. Matches seems to be waving them good-bye with a wicked smile on his face.
The song ends with a final triumphant chord as Leona’s cocktail — The Sunflower — is presented to the Queen of Summer in a halo of golden light. The Archfey carefully takes the offered glass and raises it to her lips for a single sip. A heavy silence grips the assembled crowd as she drinks.
“This one wins,” she says, gesturing to the adventurers and the crowd erupts in celebration. Matches and Yinmaris pick Leona up, their arms forming a makeshift sedan chair as they parade her through the crowd chanting her name. A wide grin spreads across Sparks’s face as he shares the joy and excitement of his companions. He looks down for Mac to congratulate him, but sees his familiar has taken to the air, and is flying in the direction of the vineyard. Concerned at this behaviour from his familiar, Sparks begins pushing past the crowd to reach him.
Sparks finds Mac in a quiet orchard on the edge of the vineyard. Mac is staring intently at a woman sitting lazily on a tree stump. Suddenly the noise of the crowd begins to subside, then falls to utter silence. A moment ago, they were surrounded by the murmur of a thousand festival-goers, now the only sound that remains is the soft summer breeze caressing the leaves above.
Sparks looks at the young woman on the stump. He sees impossibly perfect skin beneath a messy tangle of hair. A brightly coloured dress that seems perpetually about to fall from her shoulder, but never does. This woman is not what she appears. Sparks tells himself. She may seem little more than a child, but she has much in common with the celestial beings that we met with Tayz.
She looks down at Mac, and playfully takes a grape from a bowl laid out on a vine leaf on the ground next to her. She smiles, her face a pure image of delight and innocence. She looks up at Sparks as she crushes a grape between her thumb and forefinger, the clear juice running down her hand.
She speaks, her voice bright and clear as she looks up to the sky “The wind loved to dance, the air loved to fly. Their union is the storms.” Mac’s eyes follow hers to fixate on the same point.
She looks back at Sparks. Her eyes are mismatched, one is bright blue, the other a stormy grey. “I am Euphoria. Welcome, Sparks-in-Shade. Welcome, Mac.”
Sparks stares at her in awed silence. Her eyes are no longer mismatched but now unified in colour: they have become the same unnatural blue of Sparks's own eyes. When did that happen? Is this a trick? Sparks thinks to himself as he watches her reach a delicate hand up to her face. He gasps in horror as she seems to pull out her own eye… but when he looks again, he instead sees a blue opal held delicately in her fingertips. She places the stone in her palm.
Euphoria’s voice rises "Like bubbles we are, all echoing an endless storm. Always at risk of rupturing to air." She stands and walks toward them, reaches out and touches the Mark of Air & Darkness on Sparks's back.
She speaks again "Some are coupled in a rainbow journey." She presses down harder on Sparks' back. He falls to one knee as the cold sensation on his back turns to fire. Through the pain, he looks down and sees Mac twitching and writhing on the ground. He reaches out a hand to his familiar.
Euphoria looks down and smiles at Sparks, then her expression shifts from joy to profound sadness. "But bubbles... burst."
Sparks’s eyes fail him. Suddenly he is adrift in an infinite void, a sea of utter darkness. The only light he sees is a silver line, a shining tether reaching out from his chest and disappearing into the indescribable blackness. He hears a scream, impossibly distant but impossible to ignore. He wills himself forward, floating along his silver thread toward the rising cries of terror and agony.
Ahead, he finds the source of the sound. A figure, wrapped in the same infinite blackness that surrounds Sparks, but wrapped tight around them like a death shroud. Barely distinguishable against the darkness of this void, the figure thrashes against the shroud that covers it. Constricting. Binding. Suffocating.
Sparks sees a pale hand reach from within the veil and he seizes it. He feels his consciousness begin to fade as the incomprehensible blackness of his surroundings overwhelms his mind. He takes the hand in his own and pulls, but nothing shifts. He pulls again, and the hand slips from his and disappears into the dark veil once more.
The screams intensify as he looks around for another opportunity to free this unknown victim. He sees light emerge from within the veil, red like embers. The screams become muted, and Sparks realises the prisoner within this shroud is dying. The hand emerges once more, and Sparks places his gold whistle in his beak as takes a firm grip on the wrist with both of his feathered hands and blows the whistle.
Sparks’s Eagle Whistle sounds a clear, vibrato note that pierces the silence of this void. Of all the wonderful things that Sparks has been given since he came to Kantas, his Eagle Whistle holds the most sentimental value. All Kenku are cursed to dream of flying, and most are destined to die having never been granted the chance to experience it. But the holder of such an item can soar like its namesake, and whenever Sparks doubts the choices he has made, the engraved gold whistle reminds him of the friends that he has made. The kindness that he has both received and given.
He strains as he tries to pull the shrouded figure free and he looks upward, blowing his whistle. Suddenly he feels himself moving. Drifting, not deeper into this abyss but finally away, toward the beginnings of an escape. He grips his shrouded charge tightly. Unsure of where he is, he remembers the Fey navigation method described by Leona. Fixating his mind on his home and his housemate Tayz, the Cachette Corvidae. He fills his thoughts with his messy room and Tayz’s tidy one. Their kitchen filled with simple seeds and foods that other races would find bland.
His whistle sings and he sustains the note for as long as he can, all while pulling the shrouded one until his breath runs out. A storm rises around him, roiling and buffeting him as he tries to calm himself, to think warm thoughts of home. He senses a presence in this place, as powerful as Queen Titania herself, but pitiless, uncaring, capable of such cruelty. And he realizes the presence has been with him for a long time. He has felt it since Mac first joined him all those years ago. He had felt it strongest when he fought for the Ascension here in the Feywild, and when he had dismantled that Modron machine in the Shadowfell.
The Shadowfell. When he stood side-by-side with the Queen of Air and Darkness, the implacable Ruler of the Unseelie Fey. And, as he now realised, his Patron. The one who took his bargain without his understanding. The one who has owned him since before he even left Faerûn.
Horror grips him at this realisation before the mercy of unconscious takes over. As his mind fades to black, he hears Euphoria’s voice echo in the darkness…
“What does it mean when shadows wish for light?”
The sound of distant music and joyous revelry rises in Sparks’s mind. He opens his eyes to find himself back in the grove where his vision of Euphoria began. The mysterious celestial is nowhere to be seen, but Mac is by his side wearing a shocked expression on his familiar corvid face. Sparks’s eyes fall on a change to Mac’s wings: his pinion feathers are now a brilliant white, matching the shock of white near his left eye. Mac looks up at Sparks, seemingly relaxed at last. They stand up and make their way back to the celebration together.
As the pair arrives back in the central square at the Perihelion Palace, they find themselves entering the Summer Court’s Solstice Celebration in full swing. A drink is thrust into Sparks’s hand by a passing gnome as he makes his way through the press to the centre of the crowd. There he finds his companions again. Matches and Glade are dancing to Yinmaris’s flute. Leona seems to have commandeered one of the drinks tents and is mixing cocktails for all while a crowd of thirsty admirers looks on.
The year’s longest day plays host to the year’s longest party, as the companions take full advantage of both the Solstice and the Feywild’s unpredictable relationship with time. Despite the trauma of his encounter with Euphoria, Sparks finds himself buoyed by the revelry of the Summer Court and marvels at the seemingly inexhaustible stamina of its members, particularly Kruxeral.
In the early hours of the morning, Sparks finds Leona taking a rest from entertaining partygoers with her elaborate concoctions. It’s the first time he’s seen her sit down since he arrived at her bar the day before.
“Congratulations, Lady Autumn. A spectacular performance, and a cocktail that will be spoken of in the Summer Court for years.” Sparks raises a glass to her.
Leona’s face turns to shock as she realises that Sparks is no longer wearing the long coat he arrived in. “Sparks, you need to put that coat back on! If Queen Titania sees your Mark of Air and Darkness…” she trails off as Sparks turns around to show his back. The spot that once bore the mark of the Unseelie Regent is now empty: the same dark feathers that once hissed with her magic are returned to ordinary contours.
Sensing Leona’s shock, he empties his glass in a single gulp and fixes her with an intense stare. “I met someone powerful here. She took away the Mark. But she gave me something in return.”
“I see. What did she give you?” Leona smiles, intrigued at this gossip.
“She gave me certainty. Certainty and change.” Sparks gestures at his familiar’s new white feathers. “Mac is changed, too. And we're finally starting to understand why things have been this way for us. I’m glad I came on this job, Leona. Maybe one day I’ll be able to repay you for posting it.”
Lady Autumn smiles cryptically and clinks her glass against Sparks’s. “I’m glad you came here too, Sparks.”
Later, at La Cachette Corvidae...
Sparks-in Shade opens the door to the living space he shares with Tayz. He is carrying his long coat tucked over one arm, and he holds a glowing bottle in his hand. Realising that his friend isn’t home he walks across to Tayz’s immaculate desk and grabs a sheet of paper and a quill. He begins to write.
Tayz,
I’ve found out who I made the deal with, and I need your help.
It’s the Queen of Air and Darkness.
Oh shit.
Oh shit.
-- Sparks
