At the age of eighteen, every citizen of the Dalton Kingdom is assigned a career. The women are either married off, and expected to be wives and mothers, or they are offered a variety of housekeeping/bartending positions. Some intellectual few, even go on to become scholars, or in one rare case, a strategist.
The men however, are immediately sent to either the army, or the hunting patrol. As a soldier in the Warblers-the Dalton army-the duties range from the cavalry, to the scouts. The army is run by the Council, a board of elected soldiers. If a man chooses the hunting patrol, their job is to hunt the faeries. A hunter must have a strong stomach for slaughtering, skinning, and possibly packaging the faerie meat and blood.
"Come on Blaine!"
Blaine Anderson was woken up from a very nice dream he was having, including a beautiful elf-like man who had been haunting his dreams. Blaine knew who he was. Kurt. But Blaine hadn't seen Kurt in ten years, and the chances of ever meeting the faerie again were slim to none.
"Blaine, we have to get moving!""
Blaine groaned, and turned over on his sleeping cot. For the past year and a half, he had been traveling with Wes and David, as scouts in the Warbler army. He had stayed true to his promise never to kill a faerie. But for a man raised in the Dalton kingdom, the only career options were to be a hunter, or to enlist in the army. And as Blaine's father had asked him what he wanted to do, the necklace hanging from his neck had burned as he struggled with an answer.
Currently, he and his companions were camping on the edge of the forest they were about to explore. They had been sent on the task of finding a faeren clan. It unnerved Blaine, considering it was bordering on breaking his promise to Kurt. Which was probably why the faerie had manifested more often in his dreams
Packing up his clothes, and shoving them into his leather satchel, Blaine made his way out of the tent. David's face was expressionless, but Wes looked irritable. "Blaine! We have got to get a move on! We're burning daylight! What is with you lately?"
Blaine sighed, and ran a hand through his dark curls; or at least, he attempted to. The army rules dictated that he had to have it gelled back. Sighing, he rolled his eyes. "My apologies Wes. I'll make sure not to sleep from now on." The Oriental Warbler glared at him.
"Don't give me lip Anderson. You may be one of my best mates, but I am your superior. I'm on the Council now, don't forget."
"Ah yes, the beloved Council." David quipped. "Tell me, who nominated us for the Council again? Because I owe them a bloody nose. Just drop the bloody Council issue Montgomery, we know. You're a superior. So am I. You're one because you worked for it. I'm a Council member for Cebhrṹ knows why. Blaine doesn't care about that stuff. So just drop it Wes, it's getting old."
Wes huffed, but as David told him, he dropped the subject. Packing his satchel, Blaine tossed it onto the saddle, and quickly mounted his horse, Pavarotti. Trotting up to Wes and David, still on the ground, he arched an eyebrow and said, "Come on boys. We're burning daylight, aren't we? We should be on our way, right Wes?"
David burst into laughter, and Wes scowled in his direction. Blaine simply smirked in response, focusing on the forest in front of him. "We'd best be going soon though. I'd rather not spend the night in there if we can help it."
Wes snorted. "Afraid of the fairy tales, now are we?"
Blaine arched an eyebrow at Wes. "Faeries don't take too kindly to humans Wes. You know that by now." The scout flushed, and he scowled at the ground once more, before mounting his own horse next to David.
"Let's just go."
The three young men began to ride. They travelled in silence for several hours, before reaching a stopping point. At a creek, they all dismounted, and began to make their preparations for their midday meal. Blaine was pushing for them to skip the meal, but Wes and David insisted. That didn't make the shortest Warbler scout any more comfortable with the situation.
Blaine was currently pacing the perimeter of their makeshift camp, his nerves playing up uneasily. Something about this didn't seem right. But neither David nor Wes seemed to share his edginess. Looking at their anxious companion, David smirked.
"Come on mate, you just need to find a nice wench and get laid." Blaine glared at his friend. Not only was the tone derogatory, but David knew that he preferred the company of men. Not that he had ever gotten the chance to do more than kiss a man, before getting punched in the gut.
"David, I think that you need to find a wench. Oh wait, you have a fiancé that seems to mean nothing to you. I wonder how interesting she would find your 'conquests'." David immediately blanched. Blaine had far too much blackmail on him, and so he quickly dropped the subject. However, where David stopped, Wes picked up.
"You know, he's right though. You've kissed one guy before, and that guy was an absolute jerk. Are you still pining over Jeremiah?" Blaine winced, and rolled his eyes. Yes, that debacle had been something he would gladly forget. Not one of his proudest moments.
"I'm pretty sure I got over him after he punched me. Yeah, I kind of deserved it, for getting him fired, but he clearly shares my sexuality. It was pretty humiliating, considering I basically outed myself, and he humiliated me."
Wes inclined his head in acknowledgement, but then shrugged. "Yeah, but seriously Blaine, you can't be the only one in the kingdom who prefers the company of men. Sure, others aren't as brave as you are, but there has to be some more. And if not, surely there are some in the Aural army."
Blaine sighed, and frowned at his two friends. "Look, guys, I appreciate the support. But really, it's unnecessary. I'm not looking to settle down with a life partner. I just want to get this job done, and get the hell out of this forest. I'll find someone eventually, but right now I think we should remain alert and on guard."
And as if his very words had triggered the universe to send bad karma their way, suddenly an arrow flew through the wind, and pierced Blaine in the arm. Letting out a cry of pain, Blaine quickly grabbed his sword, as Wes and David scrambled to their feet.
There was a flash of blue, and suddenly men decked from head to toe in flashy blue outfits burst through the trees, armed with swords and crossbows. Blaine let out another cry, as another arrow perforated his skin.
"The Carmel Army!" Blaine heard Wes' voice call out, and a sense of dread enveloped Blaine. This was one of Blaine's worst nightmares. The Dalton Kingdom, while at war with the faeries that roamed its kingdoms, was the greatest enemy of the Carmel Kingdom. And unfortunately, Carmel's army, Adrenaline, was the best in all the world.
The three of them couldn't hope to compete with a whole legion of Carmel soldiers, especially when one of their best fighters was already injured.
The leader of the legion lifted his helmet, releasing his blonde curls, an unattractive smirk in place on his face. The army had surrounded them, and Blaine knew that there was no way to fight their way out of this one. He already felt dizzy from the blood loss. But seeing the horses all so close to each of their riders gave Blaine an idea.
"Well, well, well. What do we have here? Three Dalton scouts it seems. Tell me boys, what do you think we should do with these?" Suddenly jeering and shouts rang throughout the forest, and Blaine seized upon the opportunity to speak through closed lips to Wes and David.
"Guys, we can't fight our way out of this one. But we might be able to run from it. We'll have to run in separate directions. Can you guys mount your horses in time?" They both gave Blaine a small, nearly imperceptible nod. Blaine swallowed. Good. He prayed that they would be able to escape this nightmare, but there were no guarantees.
"Okay then. I'm going to take Pavarotti and charge them, and then jump, at the last second." Thank god Blaine had insisted upon a Thoroughbred who could jump as well as he could run in a speedy timeframe. His foresight had been twenty twenty on that particular issue, and it might very well save his life. "They'll be distracted, which will give you time to get away. Run as far as you can. I'll meet up with you later tonight."
As he said that, Blaine's injured arm and leg twinged in pain. God, he hated arrows. It had been a long time since one had been embedded in his skin, and he certainly did not miss the feeling. In fact, he wanted it gone as soon as it possibly could happen.
"But Blaine, you're injured!" David hissed, clearly concerned for his friend. "How the hell do you expect to make it? You've already lost so much blood!"
Blaine shrugged, barely moving his shoulders up and down, trying not to alert the Carmel soldiers to their secret conversing. "I'll have to try. Besides, like you said, I'm already injured. Better for one of us to die, than for all of us." Blaine had been told many times that he was too cavalier about his own self preservation, but he simply shrugged it off. Besides, it wasn't as if there was something seriously tying him down to this life.
"That's insanity Blaine, we won't let you do that!" Wes hissed. Wesley Montgomery was a lot of things. He seemed to permanently have a stick in his ass, but he always came through where it counted. Sure, some would say that he was too ambitious for his own good, but he was always a good friend.
"Then what are you going to do? Just stand there while I make a break for it? They'll kill you! Listen, I'm not your mother. You two do whatever the hell you want. But I'm jumping on Pavarotti, and making a break for it the second I can. Either stay here, or leave!"
Wes and David exchanged a nervous glance, but Blaine didn't pay them any attention. He was focusing in on the circle of Carmel soldiers that surrounded them. His insane plan might actually be possible. He just had to take the literal leap of faith, and pray to the Dalton deity that it worked. Not that he even believed in Cebhrṹ like Wes and David did.
"Enough."
The leader of the Carmel soldiers held his hand up, halting their jeers and shouts. He took a step forward, and Blaine inconspicuously edged closer towards Pavarotti. God, he hoped that this would work. Not that his plans ever did. He what was referred to as the 'Gap Attack' as proof that his plans never worked out the way he intended them to.
"We've relished in the moment long enough. Now let this be the day when Jesse St. James destroys the lives of these pitiful Dalton scouts. Do you want to beg for mercy? Because while I'm not opposed to you begging, I am not a merciful being. Neither is General Corcoran, or King Goolsby. Now prepare to rue the day!"
But before any of the Warblers could do any 'ruing' Blaine seized the opportunity, and grabbed Pavarotti's saddle, leaping himself onto the cream colored stallion, ignoring the pain that shot up his leg and arm. He quickly snapped the reins, and with a shouted, 'hyah!' he was off, heading straight for Jesse St. Sucks.
The Adrenaline member was clearly not prepared, and let out a girlish shriek, before diving out of the way. Blaine managed to jump over the other ducking Carmel soldiers and he was off, galloping deeper into the forest. He heard shouts behind him, and he could only hope that Wes and David had managed to escape, while Blaine had distracted them.
And that Blaine had lost the Carmel soldiers as he galloped off.
He rode as fast as he could, pushing past branches and the growing thicket. As he ran further and further into the forest, the trees seemed to grow thicker. The pain was growing in magnitude, the more Pavarotti ran. It hurt, god damn it hurt so fucking bad.
Plowing through the forest was one of the hardest things Blaine had ever done. His lungs were burning from the intensity, and the sticky blood running down his skin made him feel sick. His hair was matted down on his head, and he felt excruciating pain in his arm and leg. God damn, he hated arrows. Their hurt like a motherfucker.
Blaine was starting to get dizzy. The world around him was quickly becoming hazy, and spotted. His vision was fading, and he was swaying from his spot on Pavarotti. He gripped tightly onto Pavarotti's mane, trying to keep his balance on the steed. But he could not hold on forever. The loss of blood was beginning to overtake him, and he couldn't manage to stay on his horse at this speed.
He went tumbling onto the ground, injuring himself further. Twigs and rocks hit his skin, bruising the tanned flesh, and making Blaine cry out. He rolled for a few more feet, before collapsing where he was. His hazel eyes were staring straight up above him, but he saw practically nothing. The forest above him seemed to be closing in on him, and spinning above his head.
Somehow, Blaine knew that he was going to die. There was no way he could make it. He had told Wes and David to get out of there, and if they had followed his orders, than they would be long gone, and safe by now. But Blaine wouldn't be.
Blaine had never really been scared of dying. He had long ago learned that his parents cared naught for him. He had no romantic relationships; the kingdom was hostile to those of different sexualities than the norm. There was nothing left in this life for him.
But all of a sudden, he didn't want to die. Sure, he knew that it had to happen to everyone eventually. However, now that he was faced with the actual event, he wanted to live. He supposed it was a natural human reaction, but not for the first time, he wished that he weren't human.
Closing his hazel eyes, Blaine gasped in pain, and reached across to his arm, grabbing the arrow. He tried to tug it out of his left arm, but it proved to be more painful than if he simply left it in. Swallowing, he let out little gasps of air, trying to remain calm. But it was hard to remain calm when he was dying.
When Blaine opened his eyes, he suddenly saw something. At first it seemed to be a bright light, but when the figure stepped out of the sun, Blaine instantly recognized the person as a faerie. His blue wings were extended behind him, a dead giveaway. The faerie had a dagger in his hands, and a fierce expression, as if he were trying not to be afraid.
Why would a faerie be afraid of him? Oh right. Humans killed faeries. But did Blaine really look to be in a position to kill the faerie? Blaine looked up into the faerie's eyes, trying to plead silently. He wanted this suffering to end.
Terrified, he clutched the emerald necklace that hung around his neck. The faerie's eyes went straight to the necklace, and he gasped. Blaine didn't have time to ask what was wrong. He didn't have time to do anything. The last thing he saw was the shock and desire in those gorgeous, familiar blue eyes.
And then everything went black.
