Dear Readers,
I apologize for the delay in getting this next chapter to you. Strange occurrences have taken place of late, and I feel it is only fair to tell you what happened. You see, around the time I published my last chapter I moved into a house that had a beautiful tree in the back yard with a very interesting bark pattern near the base of the tree that somewhat resembled a small door. Being the fae-obsessed author I am, I found the appearance curious, and decided to leave a tiny cake scaled to suit the imagined inhabitants of the door at the base of the tree. The next day the cake was gone, as I expected. After all, there are plenty of bugs, squirrels, and other creatures in the garden that would consume such a cake, no matter how small.
What was less-expected however, was a letter I received the same day. It addressed to me in my full legal name (which many of my dear friends do not know in its entirety), and was written in elegant emerald green ink on very fine, gold-edged paper. Even more curious, it was delivered by an unseen messenger, who slid the letter under my front door just after dusk. It read as follows:
You have been invited.
"Invited to what?" I wondered.
I soon found out, as, without warning, my front door—which had been bolted and locked—swung open. Golden light streamed into my living room, along with the blossoms of spring flowers, a strange sight considering that it was late summer at the time. Strange and beautiful music beckoned me, and, putting one foot in front of the other, I answered its call.
The sights on other side of the door are difficult to describe. Flowers with scents that you could taste dripped off of great trees, whose bases naturally grew into the shapes of homes and other buildings. The tinkling of bells surrounded the area and combined with the strange music that grew louder the further I walked. Eventually, I came to a clearing, or perhaps a city center, where a large table had been laid with every manner of food and drink. On the center of the table, in the same elegant handwriting a gold-edged note read as follows:
Thank you for the cake.
I now knew who my host was. I knew enough about the fae to know I probably shouldn't partake of this feast, but I also didn't want to be rude. After a small internal debate, I poured a glass of wine. It tasted like the air after a summer thunderstorm, a first kiss, and a bittersweet parting from a dear friend. After I finished, I told my unseen host thank you, and retraced my steps home.
I swear I was only gone a few minutes, but when I returned the sun was streaming through my living room windows, and my cellphone had accumulated a thick layer of dust. You can imagine my shock at learning that the year was now 2020, a pandemic is sweeping the globe, the sky is covered in Sahara dust, and that murder hornets and meth alligators are both very real things. As I said, strange occurrences have indeed taken place. So, without further delay, here is the next installment of "Fractured Fortress" (it's a Jareth chapter!)!
Thank you for your patience,
Nyx
(But seriously: law school was stressful. Sorry for not writing.)
You stupid, selfish fae! Jareth admonished himself not for the first time as he cleaned the throne room. He could made a goblin do it, or accomplished the task magically, but would have achieved his real purpose of getting his mind off of Sarah.
It had been five days since their kiss. Five days in which, aside from a handful of brief passings in the corridors, he had not seen Sarah. She had not moved out of his room, but every evening the door to her bedroom was shut, and no matter how early he woke in the mornings, she was up and gone.
You just had to throw your selfish feelings on top of everything else she's dealing with! Jareth shook out a large banner, coughing as a thick cloud of dust plumed into the air. Frustrated, he tossed the banner aside and slumped sideways into his throne, kicking his feet over the edge of the opposite arm.
When he'd initially resolved to give her space he hadn't expected that she would pull away from him so completely. Their nightly research sessions ground to a halt. When she passed him in the halls, she looked at him in the polite, fleeting way that she might a stranger. As always, her eyes can be so cruel.
Jareth rubbed his hands across his forehead, massaging his temples. I can't live like this. He knew he should probably let her move out of his room, for his own sanity if nothing else. But the thought of ending that last bit of closeness they shared was too much to bear. He still held out hope that she would come around. She was attracted to him, that much he was sure of.
His thoughts were interrupted by a loud crash coming from outside the throne room. Swinging his feet to the floor, he crossed the length of the throne room and threw opened the ornate wooden doors.
Inside the grand foyer, Sir Didymus and Ambrosius appeared to be attempting to block a short, stout, and very determined goblin woman from entering the castle. Even more curious, the goblin carried a stack nearly three times her height of what could only be described as junk on her back.
"Halt! Madam, you may go no further!"
"Out of my way you overgrown rodent!"
"Rodent?! Why, I—I'll have you know, I am Captain of the City Guard! And as such it is my sworn duty to ensure that—"
"What's going on?" Sarah asked as she, Saresh, and the healer Sarra Jarvinen, whom the group had taken to calling Jarvi, entered the foyer. Jareth noted that there were grass stains on Sarah's training clothes and that Jarvi appeared to be attempting to heal some scrapes on Sarah's knuckles. Sarah caught Jareth's gaze for a moment before quickly looking away.
"I was just going to ask the same thing," Jareth said, turning his own gaze back to Sir Didymus and the goblin, who had taken advantage of the distraction caused by Sarah's entrance to push past Sir Didymus and march straight towards Jareth.
"Why—you—get back here!" Sir Didymus and Ambrosius raced after the goblin woman.
"Quiet!" The goblin woman snapped. Reaching into the folds of her tattered robes, she produced a leather bound journal and held it out towards the Goblin King. "Found something of yours, dear. Looks important. Don't want to be missing such a treasure, yes?"
Jareth took the journal and began to flip through the pages.
"Your Majesty, I apologize. This rabble rouser was causing quite a commotion outside the castle. Insisted she needed to see you. I tried to stop her—"
"It's all right Sir Didymus." He said, without glancing up from the pages. Something was familiar about this journal, but he couldn't quite place it.
"Wait!" Sarah shouted crossing towards Jareth, "It could be a trick. I met this woman during my run. She tried to give things that I thought were mine, but…they weren't real."
"Bah! No trick! Tried to help you find what you lost, yes! Was you made those pretty dolls and your bear and your little bunny rabbit, dear! Not my fault!"
Jareth looked incredulously at the journal as he studied the familiar script.
"It's written in my handwriting, Sarah." He said, closing the text. "I think it's contains my lost memories."
"Precious, yes?" The goblin woman said with a self-satisfied grin. "Can't be losing those, no!" She shuffled towards Sarah "I've something for you too, dear," she said, grabbing Sarah's hand with one of her gnarled ones.
The instant their hands touched, Sarah stiffened. "Jareth, I can feel her magic…she's a member of the order!"
"Are you certain?"
"Yes."
Jareth watched as Sarah placed a hand on the goblin woman's heart, the familiar lavender glow of her magic engulfing the two of them in its light. The pile of junk fell to the floor with a clatter.
As the light of Sarah's magic dimmed, Jareth could make out the outline of a young woman with long, copper colored hair. Mercifully, the junk lady's robes were baggy enough that they remained in tact, covering the woman, though they had grown much shorter. The woman stood straight and tall, rolling her shoulders in relief.
"It is a pleasure to see you again your Majesty. Here," she placed something small and glittering into Sarah's hand, "I kept it safe all this time, as promised."
A smile stretching across the woman's pointed, angular features. It was then Jareth noticed a pointed ear peeking out from her copper locks.
"You're fae." Jareth spouted, hardly believing his eyes.
"Of course I am. We all are…" she trailed off, studying Sarah's features with a furrowed brow, "or were…forgive me your majesty but you look…troublingly human. Is this a glamour?"
"I am human. At least..as far as I know…"
Or so you keep telling yourself, Jareth thought. Despite her outward appearance, Sarah was more fae than human. Her magic alone indicated as much. Perhaps she is subconsciously constructing a glamour to appear human? It certainly wouldn't have been the first time Sarah had subconsciously used magic.
"Curious." The woman said, crossing her arms, "Well we weren't entirely sure what would happen when you crossed realms. I suppose it makes sense that you would take on some human characteristics, your Majesty."
As Jareth pondered the implications of what "crossing realms" could mean, Sarah held up the small, glittering object the woman had given her.
"Um…this isn't mine." She said.
"It's mine," Jareth recognized the intricate details of the ring almost immediately, its rose gold scroll work with glittering diamonds. "Or, rather, it belonged to my mother." Her wedding ring, to be exact. "Where did you get this?"
"Sire…you entrusted it to me yourself, remember? After the Queen went through the portal? I assumed her Majesty would want her wedding ring back."
Wedding ring. We were married? Then why had he not sensed a soul bond between them? Too many questions raced through Jareth's mind at once. Who was this woman? How did she retain her memories when all the other members of the Order only remembered their mortal lives?
The woman looked quizzically at Jareth to Sarah, who glanced at each other, confused. Finally the woman spoke slowly, her emerald green eyes locking with Jareth's "Do you remember nothing, my Lord?"
"I'm afraid my not," Jareth said, still processing the revelation that he and Sarah were married.
"And just who are you, exactly?" Saresh interjected from the other end of the foyer, his hand resting on the pommel of his sword.
The fae woman let out a long sigh, her right hand tucking her copper strands behind a pointed ear.
"My name is Raelia Morcant, shield of the Order of Saarah. And if what you say is true—if none of you remember, then things are much worse that I feared."