Ψ(｀▽´)Ψ
I am evil, and this fic is the evidence!
The last chapter was very short, but this chapter is considerably longer! Now that Shion knows he's in the Unseelie Court of all places, what will he do? How is he going to get out of this mess?
Let's find out!
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The Unseelie Court.
Shion's heart hammered in his throat as the Phooka clutched his bicep in a powerful grip and marched him through the run-down house. The overpowering stench of metallic blood, splattered across the ground, the walls, and on the edges of the tools as if someone had been recently slaughtered, slapped him in the face. Shion's nose burned and his eyes pricked with tears.
The Court Nezumi served was the Unseelie Court, one of two High Courts that reigned supreme over the Faerie World. Safu's grandmother had informed Shion and Safu about the existence of the High Courts when they were old enough to comprehend such things, reiterating to them that out of all the Folk, those who thrived within these two were the most dangerous.
The Unseelie Court—the realm of darkness and death and misery—was the worst of the two. It was ruled by a sinister king who tortured those unfortunate enough to cross his path. Safu's grandmother knew little about the Unseelie Court, but from the stories she'd heard from her grandmother, the Unseelie King was a hideous monster, the shadowy thing that dwelled deep in the nightmares of men and women. Crossing paths with him meant certain death, painful and so gut-wrenchingly terrible that no mortal mind could comprehend it.
The King Nezumi serves is the Unseelie King.
The King who knows I have the Sight... is the Unseelie King.
Horror spiraled through Shion's mind, severing all other sensations. He couldn't see, couldn't hear, couldn't feel anything as he was hurried in front of a massive door with deep cracks in the rotten wood.
The Phooka wrenched the door open; all Shion could see was a massive staircase leading down into what appeared to be a deep, dark basement. "March," he snarled, and Shion gave a shuddery sob as he took a trembling step into the shadows.
The descent down the wooden stairs was a long and arduous one. The slabs creaked beneath Shion's sneakers. He felt that, at any moment, he'd plunge through it and drop into an endless abyss. The Phooka's long nails burrowed into his upper arm, hard enough to draw blood. If Shion tried to pull his arm away, the creature would tear his skin open and leave him to bleed out in the darkness.
Misery lanced through every inch of Shion's body. His blood sang with despair, all the things he'd never see again rising in front of his face and disappearing just as quickly.
His mother.
Safu.
The bakery.
Shion's eyes burned as tears welled up inside them. He blinked, and the movement released the flood, like a key turning in a lock.
Shion sobbed freely as he and the Phooka reached the bottom of the stairs. If his sniffling bothered the Phooka, he made no indications. He simply shoved Shion forward and hauled him down a pitch-black hallway.
Shion couldn't see anything as it was, so he clenched his eyes shut and allowed the tears to come freely. He choked out breathless, miserable sobs as they bubbled inside his chest, choking him. He was going to die. What did it matter if he did it with his dignity intact?
If it was truly the Unseelie King that knew Shion's secret, then there was nothing Nezumi would be able to do to prevent it. Safu's grandmother hadn't told them much about the Unseelie Court, because she didn't know the details of its horror. She'd only given them enough information to inform them that the Folk who called it home were things to avoid.
Too late for that.
Shion's shoes echoed on the stones as the Phooka led him down a long hallway consisting of twists and turns and sudden descents. The Unseelie Court was situated in the heart of a mountain, and the center of its throne room resided in the deepest part of a cavern. Shion remembered it from Safu's grandmother's stories, but he'd never imagined he would be unfortunate enough to experience it firsthand.
I'm going to die.
The thought smashed into him like a truck. Shion let out a loud sob; it cracked off the stones above his head, high enough to let him know they'd entered a massive cavern.
I'm going to die.
⁂
After what felt like an eternity, Shion spotted a light in the darkness. He squinted through the flood of tears, the golden light blurring at the edges. Having spent so long in the shadows, drowning in his sorrows, the light made his head throb as he and the Phooka approached it.
The light bled into a massive cavern, and as the Phooka hauled Shion through a narrow passage and into the heart of the caves, a brilliant world bathed in golden light yawned before them.
Despite the terror radiating through him, Shion couldn't help the way his heart clenched at the sight of it. The Phooka had led him into the heart of a massive cave. The domed ceiling rose high above his head, tapering into a sharp point fashioned with hanging golden baubles of light suspended from the ceiling with silver chains. Shion squinted up at them—they were swaying gently back and forth, and he thought he could see something tiny bouncing around inside the glass.
A massive road stretched out before them, suspended above an endless drop into the darkness. Shion couldn't tell how far down the fall was. Were there sharpened rocks at the bottom, or did the chasm go on forever, plunging down to the center of the world?
Peppered along the road were tall streetlights crafted of golden-flamed metal, illuminating the path. It led down into a road that broke off into two directions. The fork on the right twisted down into the darkness, and in the distance, Shion could see massive structures built into the cavern walls, windows glittering with lights. A city burrowed beneath a massive mountain. Shion couldn't see much of it from where he and the Phooka stood, but he understood enough to realize that this was where the majority of the Unseelie Folk lived.
He turned his head and, through tears, looked down the left side of the road.
It stretched for what seemed to be a mile before stopping in front of a gigantic gate carved into the stalagmites. Just beyond the gate rose a gargantuan castle crafted of obsidian, granite, and other stones Shion had no name for. Flames danced on the ends of torches hanging from each window, each crafted from beautiful stained glass dyed the same red as droplets of human blood. Shion's heart hammered at the sight of it. Though death loomed just beyond the massive doors of this castle, he couldn't help but be in awe of the structure. How many centuries had this monstrosity been thriving beneath the human world, a whole ecosystem devoid of human comprehension.
The Phooka dug his sharp nails into Shion's bicep, and he winced. "Get moving," the Phooka hissed, hauling Shion down the path and toward the castle.
The Unseelie King lives there. Shion understood it the same way a caterpillar understood it would one day cocoon itself and become a butterfly. He felt it deep in his bones, a primal terror at meeting the unknown. His shoes echoed on the stones as he stumbled along after the Phooka.
There were no other Folk lurking on the road as Shion and the Phooka approached the castle. Shion would have suspected guards of some kind, or at least a few stray sprites and brownies clambering in the air.
The realization that they didn't lurk in the streets of the Unseelie Court with the same frequency they did in the streets of Kronos made Shion sick to his stomach. How terrifying must the Unseelie King be if he had no need for guards outside his castle? Was he some omnipotent being, capable of seeing and comprehending all that occurred outside the walls of his kingdom?
Shion felt as if someone had punched him in the stomach. He stumbled over a stone, but quickly struggled to right himself. If he collapsed on the ground now, he wasn't certain the Phooka would give him the chance to get back to his feet. The Phooka seemed just as likely to continue dragging him along the stone floor, heedless to whether or not Shion's palms and knees were ripped to shreds by the jagged rocks.
His throat was thick from crying. The Phooka's sharp nails hurt where they connected with his skin, but Shion clung to the sensation like a lifeline. Pain meant he was still alive—for now—and Shion kept that knowledge close. He was alive, and if he played his cards right, there was a chance he might be able to stay that way.
Misery smothered any sliver of hope that bloomed in his chest. The chances of him surviving the night were minimal. Even with Nezumi's favor, Shion couldn't hope to escape the watchful eye of the Unseelie Court. Theirs was a Court that oversaw all others, seconded only by the Seelie Court, and the Unseelie had a reputation for being the darkest of the two.
Shion's ankle twisted as the Phooka shoved him forward, through the gate and into the courtyard of the wicked castle. Shion fell forward, the only thing keeping him from striking the ground being the nails embedded in his skin. He screamed through his clenched teeth as the Phooka's nails raked across his arm. Blood dribbled down his arm, striking the ground as if someone had scattered a handful of rubies.
"Get up," the Phooka snarled.
Shion bit his lower lip. The pain in his bicep flared up, stinging as if someone had pressed red-hot thumb tacks into his skin. The Phooka's golden eyes bore down on him, furious and condescending. Shion eased himself onto his feet, his ankles aching from the effort. Every inch of him throbbed with agony, and Shion had never been as aware of his own humanity as he was in that moment.
The Phooka shoved him forward, and Shion stumbled toward the castle.
The front of it seemed as though it'd been constructed recently—well-maintained and glimmering like a precious jewel. There was a small staircase leading up to the massive stone doors, and the Phooka hauled Shion up them, taking the stairs two at a time. Shion's shins banged against the stones, and he wondered if delivering him bruised and bloody had been part of the Unseelie King's orders.
Once they entered the castle, Shion's blood chilled. The inside of the castle was freezing. Shion's breath puffed out in front of him, twisting to the solid black marble composing the ceiling. The light within was far brighter than the torches glimmering outside in the cavern, but Shion's eyes still burned at the sight of them. He squinted his eyes as he and the Phooka marched through the main room and into another one.
In another room with a domed ceiling, Shion found himself surrounded by a cluster of horrific faeries. His legs locked up, and even the Phooka's sharp nails weren't enough to drag him forward.
Shion had spent years surrounded by hidden Folk. He'd seen creatures so grotesque and terrifying that he'd had nightmares about them for years. The bone woman in the cafe with her blood-stained nails. The hollow-backed creatures that stalked the streets at night. The massive deer with serrated teeth that lumbered at the edge of the forests, snapping up stray sprites that weren't quick enough to evade their elongated necks. Shion had suffered them all in silence, whimpering quietly in the protection of his mother's bakery and wondering how such magical beings could look so horrific.
These creatures, however—these creatures were the stuff of his worst nightmares.
Ogres glared at him from tables carved straight into the obsidian walls. Blood and drool dribbled down their green chins; hunger flickered in their black, pebbled eyes as they ranked their gaze over Shion's thin legs and trembling shoulders. One of them reached for a large butcher's knife resting on the table beside its meaty calf; Shion looked away, terrified at the murderous look that flickered across the ogre's features.
Moth wings flickered in front of his vision, and Shion looked up to see a woman towering in front of him. She looked more like a moth had attempted to mimic a human shape, her massive eyes locked on his face. She flicked a long, yellow tongue out and swiped it along the curve of his cheek. Shion shuddered and wrenched away from her.
Dozens of creatures peered down at him, each one more frightening than the last. Similar looks of hunger and sadism bled across their twisted features. Shion was nothing more than a tasty bit of meat for them to gobble up. How many of these creatures before him had crept into Kronos and snatched up an unsuspecting mortal?
One of the monsters—a dragon-like man with slitted red eyes—grasped Shion by the hair and yanked his head back. Shion winced, his neck aching at the motion. His breath startled out of him as the creature leaned in close and hissed in his ear, its breath reeking of gore and dead meat, "Too bad the King's staked claim to you already, little bug."
"Enough," the Phooka said, swatting his other hand at the creature.
The dragon-man reeled back with a hiss. "You know nothing of amusement, Scorpia."
The Phooka—Scorpia—spat at it, and the dragon-man reeled back with another furious hiss before bleeding into the crowd.
Shion flinched as Scorpia's other hand clamped on his shoulder, digging into the flesh with intent to bruise. With each stumbling step as Scorpia muscled through the crowd, he hissed at Shion to keep moving and look forward. Shion did just that, as it was better than looking at the creatures hovering in close on all sides. Shion wanted to look for a familiar flash of silver eyes, but doing so would require looking out into the sea of beasts. And if Shion happened to see Nezumi there, thriving among the sea of creatures who ate mortals on a daily basis, he didn't know if he could handle it.
His heart raged in defiance at the thought that Nezumi could be like these monsters. If Nezumi was a member of the Unseelie Court, he wouldn't have offered Shion a favor in exchange for saving his life. He would have slit his throat, drank his blood, and devoured his corpse so there was nothing left of him to find. Perhaps now he'd be wearing Shion's bones as jewelry and flaunting his kill off to the rest of the Court.
Nezumi's not like these beasts, Shion thought, his lower lip trembling.
But...
How well did Shion truly know Nezumi?
Shion's only knowledge of Nezumi was that he was beautiful, feared by the Folk he crossed, and served a faerie king. Nezumi had offered him a debt in exchange for saving his life. He was cold and cruel and threatened Shion during their few interactions, but he was also kind in his own right. He didn't have to warn Shion about the faerie king coming to kill him. He didn't have to try and keep Shion safe.
Shion didn't want to believe that Nezumi had helped orchestrate his capture at the bakery. The way he'd seemed so panicked outside the cafe assured Shion Nezumi had been desperate to prevent this fate. How could he make good on his debt if Shion was dead?
As the crowd parted, Shion spotted a large marble dais stationed at the back of the domed room. Guttering torches flickered at the bottom of the few stairs leading up to a massive throne crafted of worm-eaten wood and gemstones. Shion could see someone dressed from head to toe in black perched on the throne, and the primal terror in his body threatened to consume him.
He lowered his eyes and couldn't look any further. He knew the rumors. Looking into a faerie's eyes meant risking becoming their servant. If the creature looming at the throne truly was the Unseelie King of legend, then Shion knew he was a hideous monster who could compel him to do anything he commanded.
Shion couldn't look at him. He couldn't. If he was going to die, then he wanted to die as himself.
Whatever the King would do to him to humiliate him in front of these monsters, Shion wanted no part of it. He could deny the Unseelie King's whims for a while longer if he just refused to look him in the eyes.
Scorpia hauled him to the raised earthen dais, and Shion had to take several deep breaths to keep back the terror that threatened to spill over.
The King of the Unseelie Court sat in the throne placed precariously at the top of the stairs; two little girls with grasshopper legs sat two steps down on either side of him, one of them popping dandelions into her mouth. Shion could see them in his periphery, watching him with looks bleeding with hunger.
Shion's heart lurched as a familiar pair of black boots came into view. Nezumi stood on the step just below the King's throne, wearing the same leather jacket Shion had always seen him wearing. Shion risked a glance up at him. He looked like the stars—distant and unapproachable. His silver eyes widened in horror for only a brief moment before his expression cooled back into indifferent.
Shion was shoved roughly to the ground, and he felt Scorpia sink down behind him. Shion looked at the floor, macabre curiosity forcing him to glance up through his eyelashes and look at the Unseelie King everywhere except at his eyes. The King of the Unseelie Court looked down at them both, his lips quirked into a smile. His dark hair was pulled back into a tight braid, and the shadowless black of his clothing made his skin seem moonstone pale by comparison. He was inhumanly beautiful, like a living stone statue.
Shion's lips trembled. It was an illusion. It had to be. The Unseelie King was one of the most hideous things in the world. The stories about him confirmed it. He was a creature of such immense darkness that no light radiated around him. He was a beast so grotesque that men went mad at just the sight of him. The thing Shion saw sitting above him couldn't be that monster.
"Scorpia," purred a velvety voice, and Shion's blood cooled. "Bring our guest up here, won't you?"
Shion felt a pair of hands clamp on the back of his neck. He clenched his eyes shut as Scorpia dragged him up the stairs, past the spot where Nezumi stood, and dropped him on the step right in front of the King's boots.
Shion felt the air in front of him shift as the thing on the throne leaned forward and hovered above him. His heart pounded in his chest, blood thrumming in his ears as if his skull were about the explode. He sunk his teeth into his lower lip and tasted blood.
Something brushed his chin, and Shion's breath hitched.
"Look at me," that voice commanded, and Shion felt his body straining to obey. The words swirled through his head like a vapor, easing the tension and terror until it was little more than a distant memory? What did Shion have to be afraid of? The creatures staring at his back? None of them mattered.
No. Shion clenched his eyes tighter, until he could see red and blue clouds dancing behind his eyelids. This was part of it. He shook off the beginnings of the enchantment, knowing that something horrible would happen to him the moment he gave in.
"Look at me."
Something grasped his chin and yanked his face up.
Shion's eyes snapped open—
A vortex swirled before him, an endless darkness that twisted and changed with swirls of obsidian and purple. Shion had never seen anything like it before—except that he had, when he lay in his bedroom at night, surrounded by the shadows of his nightmares. The corners of his bedroom bled with it, untold horrors lurking in the edges that manifested for only a brief second before disappearing, leaving a phantom memory of some creature for Shion to worry over.
His shoulders relaxed, and Shion felt himself smiling.
What had he been worried about?
The creature sitting in front of him was the most beautiful thing Shion had ever seen. It was impossible to tell his age—he looked young, his pale skin flawless and smooth and elegantly marked with a few smudges of dark paint on his lips and eyelids. A pair of dark, curling horns twisted on top of his head, blending into his dark hair so perfectly they almost appeared like another set of braids.
Shion wanted nothing more than those cruel, obsidian eyes to light with approval The air was filled with a sweet-smelling smoke that made Shion's head fuzzy and unfocused. It was difficult to catch his breath. The King of the Unseelie Court's eyes were too dark. They looked almost like bullet holes in his face.
"There we are," purred the Unseelie King, and Shion perked up at the sound of his voice. It was so unlike anything he'd ever heard, swirling in his head like the notes of a beautiful lullaby.
"Little mortal, the Unseelie Court would bestow a great honor to you." The King's words dropped off in echoed undertones, each word blurring together. Shion struggled to clear his head.
Shion knew it was polite to respond, but he couldn't collect his scattered thoughts. Black eyes compelled him not to look away. He wanted to stop the chill that crept inside his chest, filling him with the desire to please. The Unseelie King was looking for an answer—and Shion was disturbed to find that he wanted to give him the right one.
The King of the Unseelie Court extended a hand. "Come here."
Before Shion had time to consider, he was crawling forward. The Unseelie King retracted his hand before their skin made contact—but instead moved to run his tattooed fingers through Shion's hair. He ruffled the brown tresses beneath his palm, and then smoothed them out again.
The Unseelie King's painted lips drew back over his teeth. They were flawless, too, and sharp. "You seek to be useful to us, don't you?"
"Yes," Shion whispered. His voice sounded throaty and weak. He found that he did want to please the Unseelie King. He'd never wanted anything more in his life.
"You want nothing more in the world, yes?"
"Yes." Shion shivered with pleasure when the Unseelie King's fingers slid from his hair to his cheek.
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, My King."
The Unseelie King smiled at that. It was the most devastating thing Shion had ever seen in his life. "I see I made the right choice selecting you for this honor. While you are in our care, you will act as one of us. You will not lie, and you will do as you are told without question. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
The Unseelie King's expression was dazzling, and Shion felt his heart swell with joy. From the corner of his eye, he watched Nezumi give the King's a disgusted look over his shoulder. He was confused. Didn't Nezumi want his king to be pleased?
"Nezumi will see that you are properly attired and made ready. Though, you needn't worry about trying to amuse him." The Unseelie King shot Nezumi a bemused smirk. "The outcome isn't worth the effort."
Some hollow part of Shion's soul cried out that he needed to run. Every moment he spent among these creatures was another step toward his own demise. And yet as Shion continued to stare into the black eyes of the Unseelie King, he found that he didn't care about any of it.
If he could just be useful—if the Unseelie King felt pleased with him, even if for only a moment—did it truly matter if he surrendered his life?
To Be Continued...