(A/N - I figured I would try my hand at the Fairy and Hero idea from YOI, since I've always loved fantasy stories. Considering that Otayuri/Oturi is my favorite pairing in the series, I do hope I will do it justice. I plan on making an update once weekly, possibly before if my motivation and time off from work allow.
Please review and follow this story if you enjoy it at all, it helps me to know what I'm not just writing this for no one. Much appreciated and please enjoy!
-Author)
Prologue
"A Hunt Too Soon"
"It's just ahead, men!"
The clamor of steel studded boots mixed with the sounds of the damp sloshing and caterwauling of the wildlife around them. The cacophony startled most of the nearby animals into scurrying away, or at the very least hiding, their curious eyes peering out at the foreigners to their land. The armored men and women's hauberks and plate mail clattered together with each step, alerting anything living to their whereabouts for the better part of a league. It seemed as though the armored either did not notice this, or perhaps they simply did not care. They blindly focused on where they needed to be and surged on.
Amongst them was a tall, dark-haired boy, who was not quite a man. His hauberk fit loosely on his frame, plate mail shifting uncomfortably as he kept up with the group. It was his first unsupervised hunt with the guard and the young apprentice was determined not to be left behind for something as silly as his mail not fitting him correctly. Subconsciously, the young man reached and gripped the darkly dyed leather bandolier that was slung diagonally over his chest from left shoulder to right hip. Inside were the tools of his trade. Each pouch held a small bottle, which in turn each carried a bespelled powder or liquid that would aide in the capture of their target. The bandolier marked him as a practitioner of the old arts of the arcane and the elemental. The color of the bandolier, as well as his embroidered surcoat, a deep cobalt, further marked him as a first apprentice; nearly a Magister himself. The gold embroidery that lined the hems of his neck, wrists, and knees took the pattern of hundreds of petite five-pointed stars, each with a tiny silver sword through the center, pointing down. This further marked him as a magician of the royal family.
The shouts of the soldiers ahead of him brought him back into the situation at hand. Bellows and cries to ready himself filled the air causing clumsy hands to fumble with his bandolier, desperately undoing the buckled straps. His chestnut eyes desperately searched for the target they were shouting about when the hopeful orbs fell upon the clearing before them. Time seemed to slow as he took the sight in, an eerie sensation that he assumed was caused by the adrenaline that was pumping through his veins.
Pillars of sunlight descended into the clearing, dust and pollen wafting through the air to create elegant illusions of sparkles. The soft trickle of a small cascade echoed against the walls of the clearing, drawing the young conjurer's eyes towards the spotlit center of the lush glade. A mushrooming stone stood there, a vibrant mixture of beryl and jade green moss covering its expanse. Thousands of depressions veined across the moss and stone alike, allowing the water to umbrella over the clearest pool the young man had ever seen. His eyes followed the water up, assessing that the transparent bluish liquid fell from the center of the canopy of stars with no assessable beginning or end. A faerie's fall. It was something that the caster's apprentice had only read about up until now. He focused, eyes darting down to the veil of water under the mushroomed stone.
Tanned lips parted in a gasp as his eyes took in the faint glowing shapes. In the center of the mass, two oblong orbs twinkled. They were an odd sort of Prussian-green that entranced the spell-caster, drawing him in until his booted toes sloshed at the very edge of the atypically still water. The sound of swords being drawn and arrows being nocked joined the sound of the trickling water just as the shape elongated into a small, childlike humanoid shape.
"Stay still!" His fingers withdrew two small bottles from the bandolier as he shouted, thumbs popping them open. "Now! Step out of the rock shelter slowly. Do not make any sudden moves or I will rend you asunder!" The young man held the two bottles in his left hand as he called upon the contents with his right. Rapidly, a light grew from the bottles as ribbons of velvety chromatic powders filled the air around him, writhing like snakes. "Move now!"
After a brief hesitation, there was a part in the falls as fingers slid through. Oddly enough, the water did not touch the flesh of the small being as it stepped through. Rather, it seemed to spatter away from the smooth, unblemished skin as it came. The dark-haired male's breath caught in his throat as the glowing being stepped through, its dewy wings beating in a slow, lazy stretch. He hesitated in his attack, taking in the sight with trembling sorrel eyes. Blond hair, each strand seemingly made of the purest golden starlight, languidly flowed around the doll-like being's head and shoulders as if some unfelt breeze blew.
"Otabek! Do not lose focus!" A soldier warned as she stepped up beside him. She trained her arrow to the forehead of the childlike faefolk.
The teenaged practitioner swallowed and nodded as he stepped forward into the pool of strangely warm water. He stared into the blue-green eyes of his prey while he approached, struggling to find any threat in the frail being. Methodically, his right finger traced a series symbols in the smoke drawn from the bottles. Gradually the symbols glowed, brighter and brighter until they looked as though they could be cut from the sun itself. As suddenly as they appeared at their brightest, the marks shot forward towards the faerie. Otabek's face contorted to confusion as they seemingly went through the being and disappeared into the rock behind. For a moment he second guessed his spell casting but realized that he had done nothing out of the ordinary. Those marks should have formed a binding around the hands and feet, immobilizing a target's body with the flow of magic between them but for some reason they had failed.
"Otabek!" A cry from behind him made the young male jump, his hauberk sliding uncomfortably down his back so that the neck constricted his throat. His prey's image was fading before him, as if the dying spray of a waterfall that had quite abruptly run out of water. His eyes widened as he whirled around to see his guard all searching desperately for the fae.
"Anya!" He shouted, his head spinning as he too searched for the escaped prey. "Anya! It's an illusion! Where is-" Otabek gasped as his eyes landed on the childlike creature, its curious eyes peaking out of a nearby pine tree. Hesitation hit the dark-haired male as he watched the faerie raise a finger to its lips, a smirk growing on its face. Otabek felt as though time had stopped completely for him as his eyes looked around at the soldiers, who at this moment seemed to be moving very slowly indeed. His eyes sped back forward to the fae. All too suddenly, the creature began to move its lips and an eerie voice began to sound from within the magically inclined male's head.
"Why have you brought these people into my forest? You are from far away, are you not? Why have you tread here?" The very young male voice asked.
Otabek blinked, looking around and noticing that each and every one of his guards had frozen in place. A tremor of terror crept over Otabek as he observed the frost that was growing across the guard's skin, mail, and clothing. Icicles began to build onto their fingertips and noses. He looked again at the young faerie, this time with a sense of alarm and reverence. "Are… are you-"
"Yes," this time the faerie spoke with his own voice, wings beating slowly as he dropped himself from the low branch of the pine to the ground below. "I'm talking to you. Why are you here? Is your land not large enough for your people? You should explore South, if that's the case. Perhaps the dwarves would welcome new workers for their mines."
Otabek found himself stammering for a moment, at a loss of what to tell the young fae. Surely the truth that he was sent to capture the blond haired, green eyed faerie of this forest for the King would get him into some great amount of trouble. That is, if he wasn't already. "Ah… You see I was-"
The blond fae suddenly glared at the young human before him. He raised his arms, crossing them over his pale chest as he batted his shimmering wings, a sign of irritation. His hips cocked to one side allowing the loose white fabric that was wrapped around his waist to part slightly, revealing an unflawed thigh completely bereft of wound or hair. "You came… To capture me?" He said, digging his left heel into the mossy forest floor. "You think you can? You're still awful early in your abilities to be trying this, aren't you?" He chuckled as he began walking closer, startling the young man into stumbling backwards further into the water. It now reached his waist, soaking through his surcoat, mail, and woolen undergarments in seconds. "You should give it up," he said, running slender porcelain fingers through his pale locks. "You're no good for this kind of magic. Have you tried other forms? Maybe spellsinging or elemental drawing?"
Otabek bit the inside of his lip, feeling somewhat affronted. He nearly pulled off a scowl at the small bodied creature before he was once more alarmed. Somehow the faerie had appeared directly in front of him, their noses nearly touching. As much as he tried, Otabek could not find the strength to move. There he stood, much like a deer caught in an unknown light; frozen, his eyes wide. Desperately the young man tried to tear his gaze away from those eerie blue-green orbs that had caught his, but he was defenseless. Otabek was trapped by the ominous gaze of the other, his heart beating wildly.
The faerie smirked and leaned upwards onto his toes, pressing their lips together his wings fluttering softly to support his balance. Otabek's heartbeat pounded in his ears, fire pouring itself all over his skin in an instant. The feel of the perplexing creatures lips against his own was cool and soft, much like an untouched silk that had been left in a winter's breeze.
Yet as soon as Otabek had begun to comprehend the kiss, it had vanished, the faerie stepping backwards with a devious grin. His pink tongue ran over his upper lip leaving a damp sheen behind. "That should help you," he said, though Otabek could hardly hear him over his own heartbeat. "Come back to me when you're stronger, okay? It's no fun competing against someone who isn't able to fight back once he lays eyes on me. Come for me once you've reached manhood," he stepped back further. "By the way… my name isn't, "it." My name is Yurochka. You can call me Yuri." With a gentle, playful wave, the fae vanished in a mist.
Otabek unsteadily stepped forward and out of the pool before he fell to his knees. The sound of ice crackling began in a wave of motion as all of his guards awakened at once, the shouts beginning once more as they searched for the faerie that was not there. Otabek shivered, reaching a hand up to gingerly touch his lips. They still tingled.
"Otabek!" The shout startled him from his daze as Anya ran to him, her strong hands hoisting him to his feet. "What is wrong? What's happened? You look as white as a sheet! We've no time to waste!" She said, trying to coax him into the hunt again to which Otabek shook his head lightly.
"He's gone," his voice sounded meek, as he shuddered, half in fear an half in anger. Perhaps fourteen was too young to hunt after all. "He's left. We will not catch him this time."
Anya observed the humbled expression on the boy's face and frowned. Her eyes shifted down to her surcoat, widening as she noted the melting ice that was still encrusted there. "I… see," she said, laying a hand on the young man's broad chest. "Cousin, not every hunt is successful. I fear we have greatly underestimated this one. So… don't feel guilty over it. I am a guard of over ten years and I could do nothing."
Otabek nodded at the woman before him before straightening his damp, navy blue surcoat and bandolier. He replaced the vials, closing them tightly before bucking them in again. Otabek sucked in a breath before shouting to his guards, "Stop your search!" His commanding tone left no room for argument, "The fae has escaped! At our current strength we are no match! We will return to His Majesty at once to report our, no, my failure!"
Indignation swallowed, Otabek began his march back to the castle in Belsorov. Begrudgingly, the men and women in his party began to follow, each and every one not looking forward to the scolding that they would receive from their superiors for this failure.
