Words have power. The power to communicate, the power to order, the power to condemn, the power to release. Mages of all sorts use the power of words frequently; as do holy men, politicians, and of course writers.

Some words have more power than others, for example affection and love. They are synonymous in all explainable ways yet love is always portrayed as much more powerful. Among those who understand the power of words a certain amount of effort in their selection is an assumed courtesy.

It was quite obvious to me that such courtesy was no longer taught to those with power on Earth.

'Whatever?' I mentally echoed my savior. 'WHATEVER!?'

I composed myself, she was after all under a magical compulsion, a powerful one indeed. Perhaps the Slayer was simply forced into saying such an uncouth, dismissive statement.

Regardless she HAD saved my life, and I AM a Sidhe of my word. I asked how I could repay her, She answered in a way that practically unbound me of any debt. I could literally do "whatever" and call it even between us. Perhaps I shall procure her a small trinket, or place a blessing on her home and be done with the matter entirely. If she wishes to under evaluate my life then let her receive my perceived value.

I had almost reached her home to place a blessing upon it when a disturbing thought penetrated my mental rants of indignation. Who ever forced me to Earth from within Avalon clearly had resources to spend in eliminating me, the rope the demons had could have held me for years had the Slayer not used iron against it. My unknown enemy would quickly learn of my survival were I to return. Worse yet whatever allies I had left would not side by me should they witness me be humiliated again. Until I could return with power enough to be victorious in a fight against my unknown opponent, or I could at least learn of my opponents identity I could not return. But how could I stay on Earth of all places! To remain on Earth without reason could shame my allies more than a public failure.

I stopped in front of the house of my savior. Without reason. What greater reason is there other than alliances? While the Slayer may not be the most valuable ally on earth, she is a valuable resource. It would be an acceptable reason. The debt I owe her may be paid with "Whatever", so I shall. I shall assist her in her endeavours for a time and once she has become reliant upon me I will declare my debt to be paid in full. Then she will have no choice but to call upon me in need and invoke a debt. Excellent.

I will need supplies, lodgings at the least, if I am to remain here I realized. Considering the slayers usual opinion on morals simply accosting humans or their establishments would anger my debt holder. However she clearly had no problem attacking vampires. Smiling slightly I went off in search of the walking dead. Surely even vampires have material finances, and in a way I am already doing my duty to my debt holder as it is her duty to destroy them.

Vampires were, as I soon discovered, decidedly different than my expectations. They fought with brute strength and speed yes, but little actual skill. These primal instinctive beings had a chance against a trained Fae of my minor power, but I am not just any Fae, I am a Sidhe. The first vampire I fought annoyed me greatly. I did not know that once significant damage had been dealt to a vampire it and its possessions on hand turned to dust. This made fighting them a much larger challenge, I needed to subdue them, strip them of any valuables, then kill them. Thankfully vampires seemed no more immune to Glamor than their human host were so none of them saw me as a threat.

By early morning I had acquired a sizable pile of monetary notes and jewelry as well as an upsetting amount of injuries. Admittedly I knew little to nothing of the value of the monetary notes and I likewise knew little of the products sold in the first few marketing vendues I entered so I needed to establish a value to the currency of the realm. I knew little of 'electronics' or 'mass-produced items' but I knew magic well enough. So I made my way through the music stricken back streets in search of an apothecary or hidden venue of the arcane arts. My search ended quite quickly. I suppose it's natural that on such a nexus inborn magic would be more prominent. In any event seeing a shop not only in plain sight, but advertizing was startling. I entered The Magic Box warily of deceit, but not quite warily enough. A woman behind the counter looked up at me reflexively and did the unexpected.

She saw me. Not my body, my clothes, or even my normal Glamor, she saw ME. Her face wrinkled out of emotion. Anger probably, or fear, maybe even disgust. She reached for a knife lying on a shelf behind the cabinet. I took quick, calculated action. "I've come to this place without malicious intent, simply as a potential customer!" I hurriedly said. my hands open and at my sides By the time I finished my statement she had the knife in hand. My words were empty of magic yet they had the desired effect. "Say that again, twice." She said cautiously.

Ah, she knew more than just what I am, but what that means. I calmly repeated myself word for word twice more, lightly glaring at her as I finished. "Thrice said it is, and thrice bound I am." She lowered her weapon. "Will you let me buy something or shall I leave?" I asked.

"Yes, by all means make a purchase!" She said with surprising vigor considering she was about to attack me a few seconds ago. "Is there anything you are looking for in particular?"

"Yes, a fresh raven's feather, a jar of newt eyes, and nine stalks of wolfsbane." Basic ingredients for a cheap scrying sensor. As she gathered the ingredients I walked over to a selection of books and studied the prices. Most of the titles were unfamiliar but I recognized a few. As I understood them my monetary supplies were by no means a fortune, but worth the effort I expended to get it. "Will that be all?" The woman behind the counter asked.

"Yes." I handed over a hundred dollar bill and took my supplies and change. "Good day to you Anya," I said, smirking as her face grew stony at the use of her current name. I enjoyed my brief amusement at her worry then simply said, "You are wearing your name on your shirt." Her face betrayed her relief as she accepted the answer to her unasked question.

I left the building in search of a place to convert some of my ill gotten gains into finances. Since the trade of stolen goods would by definition be illegal I didn't bother with any of the more frequented areas of the town. I instead increased my aura of Glamor and let myself drift through town without directions. I was nearly as good as invisible with my Glamor let loose and after several hours of wandering and following suspicious characters I determined the most ideal establishment for my needs would be a bar called "Willie's Place". I carefully reigned my power back and entered the bar.

Within moments of entering the bar I knew I was in the right place. Demons, a yellow skinned troll, and several lycanthropes crowded the bar openly discussing the magical music that seemed to be spreading across town. Thankfully no one seemed to be under the effect at the moment, the idea of an entire bar full of drunken demons singing was quite repulsive. I made my way to an empty spot at the bar and called the bartender over. "I haven't seen you around here, what's your name?" He asked casually. I glared at him for a moment before giving him the benefit of the doubt. "You may call me Faron, am I to assume you are Willy?"

He made a show of looking suspicious, "Depends on why you're asking." He answered.

I smiled slightly. "Calm yourself, I mean you no harm. In fact I was hoping to do business with you." I set several gold chains and three rings on the bar. "I'm in need of a more, commonly accepted tender."

The small man seemed much less worried and he immediately began examining a chain. "I can get you 550 for the lot of them." He said after a moment.

550 would be a good amount for them, considering how easy it was for me to obtain them. "700, Or I take them elsewhere." Bluffing when you literally can't lie isn't as hard as most people think, you just have to let them think you have more options. I may not yet have somewhere else to sell them, but I could simply take them to a park. Willy caved and provided the money, efficiently stowing the goods under the counter as he did.

"That all?" He asked while glancing across the room.

"No, I am new to the area and I find myself in need of lodgings, higher quality and more discreet than what are offered in the... motels."

He nodded a bit, "Yeah, yeah I know a few. You looking to rent, own, or take over?"

I considered it for a moment, "Rent. I should not be in town long enough to warrant a permanent residence."

He started to answer but was interrupted by a loud crash as a tankard narrowly missed my head and slammed into a several bottles behind the bar. "Barkeep! More ale!" Yelled the troll from the corner. Willy took one look at the bar behind him and seemed to deflate. "That was all of it." he said numbly surveying the no doubt expensive mess that used to be his top shelf of liquor. The troll stood up and lumbered over carrying a rough wooden club menacingly. "Not my problem. It's not yours either. All you need to worry about is GETTING ME MORE ALE!" The troll yelled at Willy. Trolls are such a crude race.

I stood up from my stool, calmly turning to face the troll. "If there is anything more pathetic than a wyldfae," The troll turned and noticed me. "It is an uncouth and drunken troll who doesn't recognize his betters." I finished coldly. The slow troll finally recognized me for a sidhe, his eyes growing wider. I could feel the attention from many of the bars patrons on me. 'Time to make a reputation...'

I smirked, I felt it was time to remind him why the sidhe rule Avalon, why the lesser fae bow to our will. Sidhe magic is in the absolutes. Words have meaning, and to use a word in such a way that the meaning of the word is not true can cripple the fool. Lying, the epitome of defying the nature and definitions of words, leaves the words lied with powerless to that sidhe. But what can they do with words that still hold power? A lot. The Fae have three forms of magic. The first being their very beings, their bodies only work because of the amount of energy in them. This gives them strength, speed, and durability against many forms of magic, and in some cases such as trolls, regeneration. The second is illusion. All fae have an innate amount of power, called glamour, that shapes mortals perception of them. The higher powered fae, such as most sidhe, have been known to affect several non-mortal races with their glamour as well, but mortals are affected the most. The last form of fae magic is usually only found in the sidhe. The ability to channel their life energy through words of power to change reality. Changing reality on large universal scales requires god like power, but changing reality for a single being, or the reality of a single being is only a contest of magic, will, and life force.

I looked straight at him and uttered words of power against him. "Stuck on earth shamed fae, be you mortal during light of day!" My words had the desired effect and pushed his power into submission with ease, the troll's magic and will were both weak, and the fear that the sidhe have instilled in the lower fae didn't hurt MY effort in the least. The large lumbering being staggered back as if slapped, and looked at me in horror. The low murmur of the bar died completely as the troll shrunk down to the size of a man. I spoke at the lesser fae in front of me, projecting my voice to the whole bar. "Leave now and I shall be lenient and forgive your interruption of my business." I didn't have to make the offer twice, the once and possibly future troll almost tripped over his now quite baggy clothes during his dash out of the bar.

I toned my grin down to a more calm look and sat back in my seat. I turned to face the stunned barman, "So, I believe you were about to tell me something?"