Disclaimer: I don't own Percy Jackson or Harry Potter.
Consul of the Underworld: Grinding Phase
Chapter Thirteen: Unkind Fae Kindness
Beta: ShadowofAxios
Lus Nam Ban led the group into a detached guest house in the grounds of the palace. It was a small, quaint and understated log cabin. It did not seem particularly fantastical, unlike so much of the Fae Realms, that is until Alkaid noticed how it was half submerged in a lake of some kind of magical water.
"It won't get you wet." Lá Glan told Alkaid with a reassuring smile. "It's just so I can do this."
With that she walked into the 'water' and her legs immediately transformed into a eel like tail that trailed out of the skirt of her dress like a train.
If I'm not wrong, that means she's a Merrow. Alkaid observed with fascination.
"Ah! This is so much more comfortable." The blue haired queen said as she shot back and forth through the 'water' in what Alkaid concluded must be the equivalent of stretches.
"Agreed." A large panther sized cat with a prominent white spot on the chest of its otherwise jet black coat said in the space where Lus Nam Ban had been standing moments before.
A Cat Sith? How in the world did a Merrow and a Cat Sith end up getting married!? Alkaid boggled. They don't even live in the same environment!
"You shapeshifters," Short said with an exasperated sigh. "I honestly don't know why you lot like to stay human so long if you find it so uncomfortable."
"Because it's convenient of course," The Merrow queen said with equal exasperation. Alkaid wasn't surprised, she supposed it was probably a common question.
"Hmm, dear, it seems we are missing something." The Cat Sith king said towards his wife.
Said spouse just chuckled. "She's probably just out exploring. She'd have sensed our return and will be back soon."
Right on cue, a beautiful young Caucasian girl with long, dark hair and bright black eyes burst out of the surrounding forests and flew on the small set of dragonfly wings on her back right into Lá Glan's waiting arms.
"Mama!" The Pixie girl shouted excitedly as she gave the Merrow a hug.
She looks precious. Alkaid smiled sweetly at the sight. Dressed up in a monochrome safari outfit complete with a black and white pith helmet, the Pixie looked absolutely adorable. Reminds me of Mina.
Glancing at Pyrrha, she could see the smile tugging at her lips as well. Gods she just wanted this over with so they could be with their little girl.
"Greetings Princess Dìomhaireachd," Fowl greeted with a bow. "I hope you enjoyed your hike through the woods this pleasant morning."
Pulling back from her mother's hug a little, the adorable little girl shot Fowl a heart melting pout. "I told I you to call me Dio, Arte."
Fowl shifted uncomfortably at the reminder and Short chuckled. Leaning over to Alkaid, she whispered, "Arte won't admit it, but he's a sucker for cute little girls especially pixies and elves. He'll be a total pushover with our daughters, considering they'll be either or."
"What do you mean?" Pyrrha asked in confusion. "Won't they all be elves like you?"
"It's not so simple with us Fae." Lus Nam Ban explained, even as he kept a amused eye on how his daughter was wheedling a promise out of the usually stoic but currently panicking Fowl to play with her later. "Matings between pure Fae always produce Fae, but the specific species may vary according to various conditions. In Holly and Artemis' case, their children are most likely to be pixies or elves."
"It's actually very interesting to me how a Fae family's species can change so simply over the generations." Alkaid confessed.
"We're a malleable race." Short observed with a shrug. "It's what kept us alive and allowed us to compete with all the gods running around."
"That and sheer numbers plus immortality." Pyrrha added.
"Spoken like a true daughter of war." Lus Nam Ban noted with a feline smile. "Though that's only partially true. Our greatest advantage is none of those things. Mainly it's because we're easier to believe in for the mortals than gods. It means our anchor to reality has not waxed and waned nearly as much as the gods'. While that doesn't translate into power per se, it can be with the right manipulations of mankind's greatest storytellers."
The redhead shrugged with a sheepish look on her face.
"You're gaming the system!" Alkaid gasped in shock. "You're manipulating the mortals to make them aggrandize your power."
"There's a reason why Shakespeare loved to write about us." Dìomhaireachd giggled like an imp as she fluttered over to the others. Her mother and Fowl following behind her at a sedate pace, Butler a step behind his principal like a intimidating shadow.
"Before your pretty little head explodes, Miss Potter," Fowl said joining the conversation. "Do note that this is not any different from how your gods drop the occasional piece of inspiration into the minds of mortals or how they seek promising mortals out and influence them directly."
"I suppose you're correct." Alkaid nodded in agreement, though she privately added that it seems the Fae were doing it a lot more effectively than the Olympians or most other gods seemed to have managed.
I guess Apollo has to up his game. Alkaid thought before she focused on the present.
"As fascinating as this conversation surely is, how about we move it indoors?" Lá Glan said with a teasing smile. "Or would everyone rather spend the whole day out here on the lawn?"
Chuckling at his wife's joke, Lus Nam Ban nodded and led the group into the cottage.
As befitting its homely and rustic appearance, the interior of the guest house was plainly adorned with high quality but simple furnishings.
"Dio, come let's go take a bath." Lá Glan told her daughter as she literally plucked the hovering Pixie out of the air and into her arms. "You're all sweaty from exploring the woods."
"Aw," The little princess whined. "I want to stay and talk to our guests. I wanted to see what magicks demigods have."
"You can do that later." Her mother insisted as she carried her daughter further into the cottage, presumably towards a bathroom.
"Okay," Dìomhaireachd said in a resigned voice. Waving at the crowd of guests, she added. "See you later everyone."
Everyone, even Fowl's bodyguard, waved back.
"That Miss Potter, Miss Branwen, as you might have gathered was my daughter, Dìomhaireachd." Lus Nam Ban informed the demigods. "We call her Dio for short."
"Thank you for offering us your hospitality, your Majesty." Alkaid said with a bow that Pyrrha copied a moment later.
The Cat Sith just waved the thanks off with a swish of his tail, "No need for thanks, young ladies, I am merely doing what is right. Oh, and no need for such formalities either. Please call be Lus and my wife goes by Glan to her friends."
Oh well, it seems formalities are fleeting here. Not that it's a bad thing really. Alkaid nodded with a pleased smile, "Of course, Lus."
"Informal as always, Lus." Fowl said as he sat down on a loveseat and Short perched on his lap. "Before meeting you I'd never have thought royalty could possibly hate the formalities of their rank as much as you do."
"Is that so Artemis?" Lus asked with a amused smile, even as he sat down on a enlarged cat bed next to a roaring fireplace that burned despite being under the strange magical water that reached chest high in the house. "I recall Titania and Oberon disliking it as well. Don't they insist on informality whenever possible."
"Yes, but they don't complain about it as much as you do. Nor do they dismiss formality as quickly either." Fowl retorted.
"You would know." The Cat Sith agreed. "Your closeness to the High Monarchs is well known."
"As is my alliance with you."
"Considering our shared goals, we would have been lumped together regardless of our alliance."
"Alliance?" Alkaid asked. If Lus' decision to offer his protection to Jane was motivated by politics then she wanted to know about it. The political arena was an ever changing thing after all and she needed a better grasp on the political motivations behind his actions to determine if his help was something she could really count on.
"We both want peace between the Fae courts." Fowl explained. "So we work together to promote that. Titania and Oberon are both unofficial members of the faction as well."
"I don't get it." Pyrrha chimed in. "Aren't they the High King and Queen? If they wanted peace can't they just order the other Fae to stop fighting?"
"It is not that simple with us Fae, Miss Branwen." Lus began to explain, only to be interrupted.
"Pyrrha. Call me Pyrrha."
"Right." Lus nodded before continuing. "While all Fae swear allegiance to the High Monarchs, this is nominal at best. Our primary allegiance is to our own kingdoms and monarchs. Titania and Oberon might thus issue an order to stop a war between their vassal kingdoms, but unless they directly intervened, which they are bound by oath to not do outside of very specific circumstances, they cannot force the kingdoms involved to actually obey."
"And that's where you come in." The daughter of the Rich One stated, a shrewd look in her eyes. "You act as a neutral ground, so to speak. Don't you?"
Fowl shook his head.
"Technically that role is played by the High Monarchs. Their domains serve as the absolute neutral ground and they play the role as the objective arbitrators of disputes."
"Instead, what we and other Wyldfae domains do is show to the Fae courts that coexistence is possible. In particular, we at Wyldwood seek to demonstrate that not only can Fae of both the Summer and Winter courts live in harmony in our kingdom but that we can maintain peaceful, friendly relations with both."
"Essentially, Wyldwood is the trying to lead the other Fae courts by example."
"By being neutral?" Pyrrha asked, seeming confused by the subtler nuances of what was being discussed.
"Largely, yes." Lus agreed with a smile.
Neutrality? Now there's a fine thought. Maybe we could get a vacation home in Wyldwood. Alkaid mused. Honestly, the more time she spent here the more novel the experience was turning out to be.
"And of course showing such cooperation with a foreign pantheon furthers our efforts." Lus purred happily.
"Not to mention how the connection would bolster Wyldwood's esteem." Fowl snidely remarked.
"Arte! Be nice." Short reprimanded her fiancé with a smack to his thigh.
"I won't deny it." Lus agreed with the Changeling easily. "Besides the esteem will just further help our mission."
He turned to Alkaid then and looked her directly in her eyes.
"You can rest assured, Miss Potter, that we are genuine in wishing to offer our assistance to your family. Part of our branding, as it were, is to be helpful and kind to those in need. Since we are able, we are also willing to help you in your time of need."
"Once more, thank you for your generosity." The brunette said with a grateful bow.
"You don't know how much this means to us." Pyrrha agreed as she offered her own deep bow of gratitude towards the panther shaped fairy king.
The tournament Oberon had organized was held in a large arena that had been carved into a massive granite depression in the middle of the forest city. It reminded Alkaid of the famous Odeon of Herodes Atticus, not in its ruined present day form but rather how it must have been like back in its heyday, somehow modernized and greatly expanded.
Each of the Sidhe courts had their own set of reserved seats, and Lus had been kind enough to allow Alkaid to join him and his family in their section. It was reasonably well placed and offered a good view of the arena far below.
This did not comfort her, instead the ability to view the battles to be fought below just made her uneasy. The daughter of the Rich One wouldn't lie, while she had confidence in Pyrrha… a part of her was in knots. Morgan would do something no doubt, she wasn't one to just sit back and let things be as they were.
As a result there small constant in her mind that was eating at her: what would the Goblin Queen do?
And would Pyrrha be ready for it?
Pyrrha stood below, weapon in hand, looking like she could take whatever challenge would be tossed at her. Nevertheless, Alkaid was still worried.
"My fellow Fae kings and queens," Oberon said as he flew down from the opening of the depression far above, alongside Titania and a retinue of guards. "I am glad that all of you are able to join us today on this auspicious occasion to decide whether Miss Pyrrha Branwen is worthy of receiving a boon from our people."
Murmurs had been running through the scores of Sidhe in anticipation of the upcoming event, but they all quieted down when the High King spoke.
"I know that most of us here today are waiting with bated breath for the main event, so I won't waste your time any further. Let the festivities begin."
With that he and his party flew down to their seats and took their place to enjoy the tournament.
In a flash of light and glitter dust, a troll appeared in the arena. It was a hulking humanoid twice as tall as the tallest man and sporting a set of large tusks on the edge of its face. It was wearing ornate armor and wielding a massive warhammer.
Lus winced at the sight of the creature's wargear. "That equipment-"
"It's issued only to Oberon's special forces." Short added, a worried frown on her face.
In contrast to their worries, Alkaid just breathed a sigh of relief. Pyrrha could easily handle a simple troll. Seeing how her lover and the troll had began circling one another warily, she couldn't help the small smile that spread across her face.
"This reminds me of how we first met." The brunette told those next to her.
Her new Fae friends all looked at her strangely.
Blushing lightly, she explained. "We met while fighting a troll."
"Only demigods." Lá Glan said with a amused shake of her head.
As if to prove the Merrow's point about the craziness of demigods, down in the arena Pyrrha had apparently decided that she'd had more than enough of the stalemate she was stuck in with her monstrous opponent.
"Oh, screw this!" The redhead yelled as she put away her labrys and drew her wand.
With a flick of her wrist, Pyrrha exclaimed, "Expelliarmus!"
A jet of red light shot forth and slammed into the troll's chest. The spell sent its warhammer flying out of the troll's massive hands and it stumbled back in confusion.
Before it could recover, the daughter of war rushed forward and grabbed hold of the massive weapon just as it crashed into the ground. With a grunt and a powerful exertion of effort, she threw the oversized hammer back at its owner.
The massive hammer collided with the troll's face, the force caving it in. With a sicking squelch, the once elite guard toppled like a tower as the weight of the hammer turned its head to paste and its bulk crashed to the ground.
"At least she didn't pull a Theseus." Alkaid mused at the sight.
From a few seats to her right, Fowl hummed in contemplation.
"What is it?" Alkaid asked him, curious about what insight the genius had to offer.
"Nothing particularly interesting." Fowl replied with an accompanying shrug. "Just an observation that after such a display Oberon will ensure her next opponent will have some magic resistance."
"That's a no brainer, Arte." Short noted with an annoyed look. "After how one of his elites just got taken out thanks to a basic wizarding spell? You can bet a ton of gold he'll want to make sure his next 'champion' won't fall for the same trick. And that was a poor deflection by you. What did you really come up with?"
Alkaid blinked in surprise. She'd barely caught the hint of a possibility that Fowl's deduction was a deflection and the elf spotted it easily? Was he really that good at deception that only someone truly familiar with him could see through his facade.
Even as the daughter of Hades pondered the depths of his skill, Fowl shot a look at his fiancée and exchanged a wordless conversation with her.
When the elf seemed unmoved by whatever he was trying to tell her, he sighed in exasperation.
"I was merely observing that Oberon deliberately sent that troll in to die. It stood no chance."
"What makes you say that?" Dio asked innocently.
"It was facing a witch but had no equipment to resist magic. That's telling."
"What are you insinuating, Artemis." Lus asked, his voice stern and commanding as befit a king.
"Merely that it seems Oberon is using this tournament as more than a contest of your lover's worthiness, Miss Potter."
"Then what is it?" The pixie princess asked, her head tilted in innocent confusion.
Artemis exchanged a look with the girl's mother, who shook her head.
Shrugging, the Changeling lied. "I'm afraid I have no clue."
"Whatever else the High King is using this tournament as, Pyrrha still needs to win this." Alkaid reminded. "Does he have a favorite magic resistant creature he tends to use in such situations?"
No doubt this had to have happened before and King Oberon would surely have a few favorites to toss into battle from time to time.
"I believe he has a small book of what he enjoys to watch during combat challenges." Lus commented, and jutted his chin upward. "See? He's glossing over it right now."
Indeed, the High King was flipping through a small black book. After a moment, a smile appeared on his handsome visage as he pressed his palm against a page. Flying up into the air while flanked by a pair of guards, he looked down at the crowd of Fae nobles and held out his hands.
"Now, for the second bout of combat! Pyrrha Branwen against the fire elemental, the Salamander!" He turned to Pyrrha, his smile growing by the second. "Miss Branwen, are you ready to begin? Or would you like more of a breather?"
"Let's get this over with." The daughter of war said with a determined glint in her eyes.
A bit rude, Pyrrha. At least try to play along with his dramatics. Alkaid thought.
"Very well," the Fae High King said with the slightest downturn of his lips to show his displeasure at Pyrrha's disrespect. "Unleash the Salamander!"
The spectating crowd exploded into laughter at the silly joke as Oberon returned to his seat.
Ah, the one funny joke Uncle Poseidon is known for. Alkaid giggled a little as well.
As the laughter died down, a pillar of flame suddenly appeared in the arena below. As it faded down to a simmering blaze, it revealed a massive lizard like creature the size of a small dragon which was enshrouded not only in the remnants of the flaming pillar but was also cloaked in intense white hot fire.
Fowl chuckled and Alkaid eyed him out of the corner of his eyes even as she kept the majority of her attention on the arena floor where Pyrrha and the salamander were eying each other warily.
"It seems Oberon is pulling out the stops." Fowl noted with amusement. "That the salamander is capable of using white flames shows that it is one of the most powerful of its kind. Add that onto the various natural dragon like qualities salamanders possess, this fight will be a tough one for Miss Branwen."
Down below, the salamander had apparently deciding that it had enough of just staring Pyrrha down, it took the initiative and breathed a stream of fire at the daughter of Ares.
Pyrrha immediately broke into a run as she tried to avoid being charbroiled by the fire elemental. Dodging the gouts of white hot fire, the audible curses escaping the redhead could be heard by all.
"What is she doing with her bracer?" Dio turned to Alkaid, her face alight with curiosity.
"Searching for something." The daughter of Hades smirked.
"What exactly could she have that might help against a salamander?" Lá Glan asked, her expression glowing with curiosity in the same way that it had for her daughter.
"Just wait and see."
"Found it!" Pyrrha cheered, as she finally found what she'd been looking for in the depths of the pocket dimension inside of Akoúo̱.
"Eat this, you overgrown gecko!" Pyrrha shouted at the salamander as she pulled out several vials from the magical storage bracer and threw them at the fiery fairy.
As the vials hit the salamander's flaming aura, they shattered and their contents splashed all over the fire elemental. Said contents took the form of a massive flood of foam. More specifically, it was alchemically created fire retardant foam that immediately smothered the fairy's flames.
In response the salamander roared and began desperately trying to scrape off the foam with its claws and by rubbing its side against the ground. It was covered in the foam though, and despite its best efforts made only limited progress at ridding itself of it.
Pyrrha, of course, took full advantage of its distraction.
Rushing forward, the daughter of Ares drew her labrys and raised it against the faltering flame elemental. With a roar, her weapon came down on its vulnerable neck. The Celestial Bronze blade sank easily into its hide, and with a yell Pyrrha lopped its head clean off before the creature could so much as feebly claw at her.
As fiery blood spilled from the stump as the body shuddered and spasmed, Pyrrha leapt away to safety. Standing back and waiting for the creature to finish its death spasms, the daughter of war took a moment to catch her breath and savoured her victory.
Alkaid noticed the frown that Fowl was sporting, and turned to him. "What's on your mind?"
"That salamander-"
"It was one from the Fiery Mountains." Short completed the sentence. "Its markings gives it away."
"Didn't the High Monarchs have a territorial dispute with the local clans in the area lately?" Dio said with a surprised gasp. "You don't mean-"
Nobody replied. There was no need for it. Everyone knew what was going on here.
"Bravo! Well done indeed, Miss Branwen." Oberon said as he clapped and once more took to the air. "That was quite the impressive fight and you have achieved a well deserved victory."
"Killing a salamander is impressive?" Lá Glan hissed, disgusted by what the High King was saying. "Considering how their kind are an endangered species, killing one is abhorrent! Especially when it was just so he can carry out a land grab."
"Glan," Lus reminded her quietly. "Be careful what you say. We do not need to offend the High King."
"Miss Branwen, you look tired," Oberon continued, thankfully ignorant of the conversation between the Wyldwood monarchs. "How about a rest now?"
Pyrrha considered it for a moment, but shook her head.
"I'm fine." The daughter of war insisted. "What's my next opponent?"
The smile on Oberon's face turned into one with a cruel edge.
"Very well then." The High King said as he snapped his fingers.
Once more, in a flash of light and glitter, Pyrrha's latest opponent appeared in the arena. It was a teenage girl. She was a pretty little thing with her brunette hair tied up in a messy braid down to the small of her back. She wore a black blouse and tight matching pants. Though there was a vacant look in her eyes, as if she wasn't all there.
Alkaid felt unsettled by it, her hands gripping her skirt in worry.
Her fears were stoked even further when she heard Lus snarling in distaste.
"What's wrong?"
"The girl's name is Lydia Martin," Lá Glan informed Alkaid warily, gesturing towards the teenager who just stood there like a statue even as Pyrrha tried to taunt her. "She's a banshee."
At the mention of banshee, Alkaid felt her throat tighten. She knew of the Irish death crier. They were deadly and despite her confidence in Pyrrha's abilities, faced with such a dangerous opponent she couldn't help but worry about her chances of pulling off a victory, or to even survive this fight.
"She's a Wyldfae who has yet to be accepted into any court." The queen continued her explanation. "We extended an offer to her to join Wyldwood but she refused."
Alkaid wanted more clarification on the situation, but was preempted by Dio speaking up.
"She doesn't look like she wants to be down there." The princess said with a frown as she looked down at the banshee with a worried frown.
"King Oberon must be using this fight as a means of initiation into the Fae Courts." Lus' lips curled into a frown. "He intends to sell this as this being her chance to show her skills and impress a patron so that she'll gain admittance into their court."
"That doesn't sound too bad." Alkaid observed.
"With how fiercely your lover fights, I doubt she'll be able to give a good showing. And if she fails to join a court, she will simply be killed." Lá Glan sighed with sadness.
"Why!?"
"Would you rather let Fae run wild without any oversight?" Short asked rhetorically. "Especially a banshee like Martin."
"Please," Fowl scoffed. "It's merely the Fae nobles wanting to exert their control over their subjects. Showing that if you displease them, it might be you down there instead of a terrified girl."
"There is truth in what you say, Artemis." Lus admitted. "Though we are not all so self-serving as that."
"So you're just going to kill her?"
The Fae did not answer her, which was answer enough.
Alkaid's heart sank at this but only a little. While she sympathized with the girl, her loyalty remained with Pyrrha and she knew that her lover would do what needed to be done to protect Jane. Even if that meant killing a teenage girl.
And if she isn't… I'll have to help her.
As if to prove her point, Pyrrha charged at the girl. Her labrys raised in a way that Alkaid noticed was poised for a knockout blow.
Seeing the oncoming attack, Martin released a scream of fright. The moment she did, her body shuddered and she teleported to the other side of the arena. However, her cry released a blast of visible sound that struck the war child and sent her flying.
Jumping to her feet, Alkaid could see how drained her lover seemed from the blow. As if it had affected her not just on a physical level, but also spiritually. Her skin looked pale and sweat dripped down her face.
"A banshee's scream can drain the life force of its target. That's how they kill. This ability makes them a very dangerous race to fight against." Lá Glan said, her face twisted in a mix of sadness but also disgust at the sight below.
In the arena, the Martin girl was looking at the drained Pyrrha with a horrified look on her face. She took a few steps towards her with her hand outstretched as if to offer her help, but stopped herself and stumbled back in sadness.
"Banshee?" Pyrrha asked the girl.
Martin just nodded.
"Right," Pyrrha said with a nod of her own. "So, um, sorry about this."
"Sorry? About what?"
Pyrrha just raised Miló to face the girl and apologized once again even as she unleashed a gout of flame at the banshee. "This. Sorry again."
Seeing the red hot blaze headed her way, Martin screamed once more and blinked away from danger.
"She should have accepted our offer to join our court." Lá Glan said with a sad shake of her head. "There is no way Martin is going to walk out of the arena with a performance that can save her life."
"You offered her a place in Wyldwood and she refused? Why?"
"Because she's stupid." Dio chimed in with a disappointed sigh.
"Dio," the girl's mother shushed her, even as she turned back to Alkaid. "She refused because she believed that she couldn't bring herself to swear allegiance to any King or Queen. To her something like that was archaic and had no place in the modern world."
"That's unfair." Fowl cut in, even as his eyes never once strayed from the arena below where Pyrrha kept attacking Martin who repeatedly teleported away. "Describing it that way makes her sound like a fool who thought her modern mundane values had any place in the mythological world and who is now paying the price for her arrogant ignorance. But in truth, things are a lot simpler than that."
"What do you mean?"
Fowl glimpsed at Dio, before just shaking his head.
Lá Glan smiled bitterly and leaned in to whisper into Alkaid's ear.
"The girl has a death wish." The Merrow queen explained. "Though I doubt she ever expected her execution to take quite such a savage form.
"What do you mean by that?" Alkaid whispered back, but the water fairy just shook her head.
In the arena, Martin and Pyrrha continued their game of cat and mouse. Seeing Martin appear on the other side of the arena once more, Pyrrha followed up with another blast of fire. This time though, the daughter of war followed up with something new. Shifting her labrys into the shape of a spear as Martin teleported once more, she twisted around and raised her arm back, her spear poised for a throw.
Taking a step forward, Pyrrha threw her spear into the distance, right where Martin appeared. Seeing this, the banshee wailed in fear once more. In response to her panicked scream, the air waves rippled out from her mouth and deflected the spear by knocking it out of the air.
Even while wincing from the wail, her already pale skin going even more pale, Pyrrha fired Miló once more. Still reeling and catching her breath from her latest scream, Martin was caught completely off guard and she was unable to defend herself as the blast from the flamethrower hit its target.
Watching the girl catch fire seemed to have struck something in Pyrrha. She looked away as Martin screamed and wailed, dropping to the ground to roll around in the dirt in the hope of putting out the flames.
After a few agonizing minutes, the girl finally managed to put out the flames. However, they had left their mark. They had left Martin's skin reddened and charred and the girl looking utterly exhausted. She didn't move to continue the fight, choosing instead to just lay there on the ground.
Pyrrha, turned towards Oberon with a disgusted look in her eyes, with a unspoken demand for him to declare the match.
"The winner of the third bout is Pyrrha Branwen!" The High King said cheerfully, completely ignoring the daughter of war's dark look. "Onto other business. My fellow kings and queens, after seeing our young, new banshee in action, would anyone be willing to take her into your court?"
Alkaid turned to the King and Queen of Wyldwood, to see what they would do. Sadly, the royal couple merely shook their heads.
"We already made our offer. And such an offer can only be made once."
In contrast to the sadness that the two Wyldfae monarchs were showing, the majority of the Sidhe were nowhere near sympathetic. In fact, they were outright hostile. The crowd was jeering at the girl, with calls for Oberon to kill her for being a waste of space.
The daughter of Ares looked shocked at the comments and turned to Oberon.
"What's going on here? I won! Why does she have to die?"
"Simple minded child, if she has no place in the Fae Courts, she's nothing but a renegade. And the only fate for a renegade Fae is death."
"That's bullshit."
Oberon shook his head at her like she was a fool.
"Oh? Is it? You think killing is immoral now? Yet you readily dealt death to your previous two opponents did you not? Both of which were proper, law abiding Fae. Why are you making an issue now? Because your previous opponents were monstrous in appearance and Martin, here, is more similar to you?"
Pyrrha looked like she was slapped.
"How discriminatory of you, but then again that's no surprise for a simple little human like you."
The daughter of war actually stumbled back in shock as the barb struck home. Unfortunately, the High King of the Fae was not done with her yet.
"Besides, you are here fighting for a single boon. Are you going to change it to saving young Martin's life? Or is your mother's protection still your priority?"
A furious look flashed across Pyrrha's face. Clearly torn between her sense of right and wrong and her need to protect her mother.
Alkaid could see it, she could even understand it. Still, the choice was clear. Sure, it wasn't exactly the morally right choice, but it was the smart choice.
"Just do it." Martin rasped out in a pained voice. "I don't deserve to live. I just hope my death will be enough. That Mom, Dad, Stiles and everyone else will forgive me."
Pyrrha's hands curled into shaking fists. She looked so conflicted that it broke Alkaid's heart.
Let me help you here, Py. Alkaid wanted to say to her lover even as she stood and summoned the shadows to her right hand. With a look of grim determination on her face, she sent the gathered darkness screaming down the arena as a shadowbolt to finish off the badly wounded banshee.
Pyrrha immediately turned to Alkaid and shot her a betrayed look, but the daughter of Hades just sent her a determined look and mouthed Jane's name back at her. The redhead was shaken at the reminder and looked away, her face once more set in a conflicted mask.
Ignoring the byplay between the lovers, the High King clapped in a grandiose fashion, only to have most of the Sidhe quickly following suit. Titania was one of the few exceptions. The stunning High Queen instead wore a beautiful frown as she looked down at the young woman's dead body lying on the arena floor.
"Congratulations, Miss Potter, on having the fortitude to do what needs to be done."
Alkaid just offered the Fae king a frosty nod, before quickly turning to offer her lover an apologetic look.
Pyrrha still looked like she wasn't sure what they'd done was right, but she gave her own accepting nod back.
We'll need to talk about this when we get back. Alkaid noted as Pyrrha turned to face Oberon.
"Can she at least be given to her family?" Pyrrha asked the High King, her voice steady but her eyes ablaze with anger at the callous fairy.
Oberon just chuckled and replied, "What family, Miss Branwen? The girl has none left. She's killed them all."
"What!? The girl was meek as a fly, how could she ha-"
"She was a banshee." Oberon reminded the redhead. "And the first thing she did once she came into her powers was use her screams to kill everyone around her. She screamed so long and so hard that she massacred her whole hometown."
There's got to be more to the story than he's telling us. Alkaid thought. Pyrrha was right earlier, Martin didn't look like the type to do something like that.
It seemed Alkaid wasn't the only one who was new to this bit of information. Next to her, Dio gasped in shock and turned to her parents for clarification.
"It was an accident." Lus told his daughter. "The girl awakened to her power in a stressful situation and lost control of it."
Dio nodded in understanding, even as sadness clouded her features. Her mother pulled her into her side and began rubbing her back comfortingly.
Oblivious to all this, Pyrrha continued her conversation with Oberon. "Can I have the remains then? I'm sure it was all just some kind of mistake or accident. She at least deserves a proper burial."
Looks like Pyrrha has guessed correctly.
"Does that excuse the thousands she killed before their time?" Oberon asked sharply. "You'd accord a mass murderer the respect of a proper burial?"
"Yes," the daughter of war replied tightly, as she clearly struggled to not lash out.
Alkaid could understand what bothered her lover so much. Pyrrha was trained to be a hero, a slayer of monsters, not a slaughter of mortal lives. To her, even serial killers deserved basic human decency so long as they were mortals. She was trained in a way that instilled in her the idea that mortals lives were to be protected.
To someone like her, this whole thing must be deeply unsettling. It's made her question the right and wrong of saving mortal lives in a way that her training never prepared her for. Alkaid thought as her heart ached for Pyrrha being forced into this position. Reevaluating one's morality was never a pleasant experience.
At the same time though, she couldn't help but feel the point Oberon had made earlier resonate with her. The training demigods received had made them prejudiced against everything that looked inhuman.
That's something I'm going to need to talk to Chiron about rectifying.
Glancing at Oberon, she could see the quirk of his lip. The fairy was having fun with this.
He's just like Minos. He enjoys the suffering of the damned that he passes judgement over.
And this was exactly that, him delivering judgement. Alkaid had grown up seeing judgement given in the afterlife so it was obvious to her. While that Martin girl didn't deserve this particular death, she was guilty of murder. Alkaid's sense of justice told her that she needed to pay her toll.
Plus, she could have actually lived if she just decided to live a life of servitude. I'm sure that would have served well as a punishment too. During the course of her service, she could have even learned not to make such a mistake again, but no...Oberon, he saw this as the best solution to that sorry girl. He exploited her predicament to get some sick entertainment for himself.
How could some of the most beautiful creatures in the world be the most wicked?
Omake: Fickle Life
Lydia Martin was your typical middle American high schooler. She went to school most of the week, did her schoolwork when she got home, hung out with her friends in her spare time, and when time and her parents permitted went out on dates with her boyfriend, Mieczyslaw "Stiles" Stilinski.
It was on the way to that last core activity of her daily life when her mother suddenly stepped out of the kitchen to stop her.
"Lydia, we need to talk." Her mum said in the strangely melodic voice that along with her short stature and exotic slightly pointy ears had made her stand out so much in town.
"What is it, Mom? I'm going to the movies with Stiles." As she finished, Lydia coughed a little. Her throat had been sore since last night and she'd been feeling a little under the weather.
"Lydia, do you have a sore throat?" Her mom asked with a frown.
"Yeah," Lydia admitted sheepishly. "But it's nothing major. I'm not canceling a date just because I'm feeling a little tired."
"Tired?" The older woman asked, her face paling a little. "Lydia, we really need to talk."
Lydia was about to reply but a car horn from outside the house reminded her that she was keeping Stiles waiting.
"Sure mom. When I get back?" The teenager said as she pushed past her mother and walked out the front door.
The older woman chased after her. "Lydia! Come back here. We need to talk now!"
Lydia ignored her and quickly jumped into her boyfriend's car.
"Drive!" She insisted to her startled boyfriend.
Obligingly putting pedal to the metal, Stiles sped away from the Martin residence.
"So, was it really okay to ignore your mom like that?" Stiles asked worriedly as they cruised down the street.
"It's fine." Lydia waved the concern away dismissively. "She probably just wants to talk about something stupid like how my GPA dropped by 0.1 this semester. Like a difference like that matters when I'm scoring straight As."
Stiles shot her a skeptical look, but otherwise wisely said nothing as they drove in companionable silence to the cinema.
All the while, an increasingly unbearable itch was growing in the back of her throat.
"Sorry again about parking so far away." Stiles said for what must have been the hundredth time.
Lydia just giggled and offered him a loving smile. "No worries, Stiles. It's not your fault that there weren't any parking spaces closer to the theater. Besides, I know a shortcut."
She pointed to a dark back alley that she knew would cut the walk to the cinema in half.
"You sure it's a good idea to go down a dark alley in this part of town?" Stiles asked warily.
"Sure," Lydia insisted. "I use this shortcut all the time."
"But there's a new gang that's moved into the area."
"Oh, don't be such a worrywart Stiles." Lydia said as she grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the alley.
Stiles didn't seem mollified but he didn't resist either as they walked into the alley and moved steadily away from the parking lot.
His fears proved warranted however when suddenly a trio of men stepped out of the shadows. Two of them cut off the way ahead, while a third blocked the way back to their car. They were surrounded.
The sight of them immediately made the blood in Lydia's veins freeze and strangely made the itch in her throat spike in intensity. It made her want to open her mouth and scream, but she couldn't risk it. Not when it might set these criminals off.
While she was busy thinking, Stiles had pushed her behind him and was addressing the thugs.
"We don't want any trouble. We'll just hand over whatever you want and leave."
"Whatever we want?" The man behind them said lecherously. "Even if it's that babe over there?"
Lydia froze. Was the man implying what she thought he was?
Stiles, the brave man that he was, turned to shield her from the pervert.
"No." He insisted. "We'll give you our money, but that's it."
"Really now?" Mister Perv said with a teasing grin even as he pulled a gun from his jacket and pointed it at the two of them.
The sight of the pistol filled Lydia's vision. She lost sight of everything else as it became her whole world.
I'm going to die here! They're going to rape and kill me. I'm going to die. Die! dIe! D-
"...iE! DIE!"
Lydia never even noticed as her panicked thoughts escaped her lips in a shrill scream that echoed down the dark, narrow alley.
She did notice however as the gunman suddenly collapsed and as she felt a jolt of energy fill her body with strength. She felt like she could suddenly run a mile a minute, lift a truck with her bare hands and who knows what else. The rush faded quickly though and reality reasserted itself.
She turned to Stiles, to check if he was alright.
He wasn't. He, like the gunman, had collapsed to the ground and was lying slumped down against the side of a building.
He looked asleep. Like the gunman and the other thugs which she caught in the corner of her eye. But they weren't sleeping. Stiles wasn't sleeping. They were dead. Stiles was dead!
She didn't know how she knew but she just did. They were dead, all of them, and she had been the one to kill them!
"No! NO!" Lydia's words joined the wordless cry of despair that she hadn't realized until now she was still screaming.
She hadn't stopped screaming since she'd seen the gun. Not once.
And she couldn't stop. She just couldn't stop!
I need to get out of here. Get some help. Lydia realized, even as she struggled to think over the sound of her own screams. Why can't I stop!?
Ignoring that oddity for now in favor of the far more important necessity of getting help, she rushed out of the alley and back towards Stiles' car. The reminder of him made her breath hitch, though that somehow didn't affect her scream in the slightest, but she pushed the pain away for later. She had to focus on what needed to be done in the present.
When they'd left there were plenty of people in the area, surely someone there would be willing to help her.
However, as she rushed out of the alley the sight that greeted her horrified her. The whole place was filled with bodies.
Her body shook at what she was seeing. At seeing the bodies, the dead bodies. The dozens of men, women and children just laying there on the ground. Dead. Every last one of them was dead.
Lydia didn't know how long she stood there looking on in transfixed horror. It could have been a minute or an eternity, she didn't know. She just stood there staring and, of course, screaming her increasingly inhuman scream.
Finally the flickering lights of the parking lot somehow caught her attention and she snapped her head away from the terrible sight. The moment she did, her legs moved as if on autopilot as she fled the scene.
"Oh my god! I killed them! I killed all of them!" Lydia's words joined the despairing chorus of her heart wrenching scream.
Lydia was smart, she could figure it out. It was because of her voice, her-her suddenly cursed voice! Every time someone heard it, they died. And she'd feel them die and what followed was some sickening yet euphoric rush that filled her petite body.
She didn't know where she going at first, but as she ran along increasingly familiar streets. She knew she was heading home.
It wasn't a comfort. Not when she was seeing more and more people she recognized dead on the street as she passed. Killed by her scream. She tried to stop herself, to turn around and run out of town. But she couldn't. Her body was on autopilot.
As her feet pounded against the pavement, her lungs burning from her wails, Lydia tried to silence herself. Stifle her screams but they just wouldn't cease. For every body she could see fall, each one just laying there on the ground, the screams just… continued.
Her eyes screwed shut as she ran, trying, oh she tried her hardest not see them. Sadly, it was as if she could sense them. Feel each life stolen from those around her.
Why were these flames being snuffed out? What was this happening? Lydia had no answers.
Turning down her street, she could see it. Her house. Finally, finally she made it home.
Part of her wanted to run away. She knew the threat she now posed to everyone here. But the part of her that was in control of her body, didn't, couldn't understand that. It was driven purely by instinct and it knew, better than anything else, that home was where she could find solace, safety from this massacre!
Shakily, sobbing, she grabbed at the door but her instinct driven self had forgotten the need for a key. Not that it seemed to need it, as with a frustrated tug she ripped the door right out of its hinges and tossed it out onto the street.
The noise caught the attention of her parents. They were clutching each other just inside, apparently struggling to get out of the house.
To come find me, Lydia realized. This… Mom wanted to warn me about this!
"L-Lydia, stop. You need to stop." Her mum said, her breath labored. Her eyes looked like they were bleeding! "Stop."
Lydia tried to speak, to say she was trying. Yet all that came out was a scream as her mother collapsed before her.
Dead.
It echoed in her mind, it raged. She had just killed her mother, she had killed her own mother!
Tears streamed down her cheeks as she turned to her father. He was on his knees, struggling to even look in her direction.
The final word on his lips was, "Banshee."
With that, he fell on his face, his death empowering her.
Collapsing to her knees, sobs began to mix their way into her still resounding scream. She slid to the floor, curling up in on herself as she shook and whimpered. Rocking back and forth in a desperate attempt to calm herself, to keep the thin thread of sanity she still had.
Only one thought crossed Lydia's mind, in an endless repetitive loop.
I wish I were dead.
All the while, her deadly scream continued to be heard throughout the now dead town of Beacon Hills.
Done and done!
Thanks to the awesome team of Nameless and Axios as always!
Man, talk about ending on a depressing note, both in the story and the omake. Still, if we didn't explain what happened, there would probably be a lot of misunderstandings about what happened to Lydia. And yes, we took some stuff from Teen Wolf. We just, changed it a little.
Nameless: I think it's fair to say we changed a lot. We basically only kept the names.
Hopefully the fights made up for the depressing-ness of the chapter itself. They were mostly straight forward but hey, Pyrrha is a good fighter. She knows how to handle a monster or two.
Nameless: Personally I think dark fiction once in a while is fun.
School days are over people, this is the real world. And the real world is a cruel, cruel mistress.
Nameless: Too true. That said, the main concern I want to address is what Oberon is doing with this tournament. I don't know if you can tell but he's using it as what amounts to his firing squad and tossing in people he wants dead as Pyrrha's opponents.
Beyond that, he's also using it to make a point to the demigods about the nature of Fae. This is especially so when he called Pyrrha out on her very different reactions when faced with killing the troll and salamander on one hand and Martin on the other. To the Fae, such distinctions as "how human a being is" are irrelevant and they find mortals prejudiced for thinking otherwise. Essentially, this is a warning to Pyrrha and Alkaid, that all Fae, even their new allies, are a lot more different from them then they think. And they need to be aware of this in their dealings.
So basically he's trying to give them kindly advice… while also doing something emotionally scarring and using them as his executioners. Yeah, typical Fae behavior. You've got to wonder whether that's the limit to what he's doing here or is there more? Well, you'll need to read the next chapter to find out.
E4E: You know what to do! Smash that review button and tell us what you love! No flames and peace off my peeps!