A/N: I do not own Tithe, a Mrs. Holly Black does! These are just a few of my ideas I would put into a story if I got the chance!!

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Sonda Saraid Signa - Death Fire Pixie
*Kaye Rye - Pixie Changling - Queen
*Rath Roiben Rye - Elfen Knight - King
Worse Weylin Rye - Moth Winged Faerie - Prince
Silen Sayer Signa - Divining Faerie
Cyric - River Kelpie
* - Original Characters

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Cyric screamed as he threw an empty beer bottle at the dry stream. His brother was no where in these lands. The failure of the Unseelie tithe had freed him as well. The demon water horse that Cyric's brother was now ran rampant around the lands. The only notice that alerted Cyric to his brother's disappearance was a letter directed to him on a rock. It was written in human blood. It had said: She was delicious, Cyric.

"Let's hang in the subway, Cyric. We have no place here now," Saraid said. Then, without warning, Cyric released a hellish scream, his fangs curling out of his mouth like a shark's and his eyes bulging out of his head. Saraid stepped back. Never had she seen Cyric in such a state. Without a second thought, Saraid stared at the green of his dark skin. In a flash of pain and adrenaline, Saraid's eyes rotated. Her irises turned to shades of green while her hair and clothing changed to emerald green. She sighed as she snapped her fingers. A green flame engulfed her hands and she advanced towards Cyric.

"Calm down," Saraid said as her left hand touched Cyric's shoulder. The green flame surrounded him and he sighed. A cool, soothing feeling began to over come him. The flame dispersed and both Cyric and Saraid resumed their human glamours.

"Which flame?" Cyric asked, his voice drain. He was impervious to her fires, although only a few were lethal.

"Green, healing," Saraid responded. He nodded, one of the benevolent flames. It had never been worth his time to keep track, he only knew her usual pink was that of pain. It was merely painful with minimal contact, but large doses could be lethal to anyone but herself and Cyric.

"You're right, we should head towards the subways. Plus you have to get ready for a party with the prince tonight," Cyric whispered. He paused, then erupted in stupendous laughter. Saraid smiled, it was nice to see her best friend cheer up even if he was making fun of her.

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The ice cream dripped onto the rail as Saraid licked the foreign delicacy. The rail ahead of them roared with a tram full of pitiful humans. Next to Saraid sat Cyric and three other fey, none whose name Saraid bothered to collect. The five sat in relative silence, just merely enjoying the temporary peace that had been instilled upon them. One of the fey let her long spider like fingers tap upon the rail which they sat on. Beautiful piano notes filled the subway tunnel. The tram passed away, wind kicked their hair every direction. A smile fell upon Saraid's face. The momentary tranquility wouldn't last long she knew. As soon as the three fey began to get sick from the iron they were surrounded by the music would stop, Cyric and Saraid would be alone, and harsh reality of that evening would snap back to her.

Another of the nameless fey opened her mouth, the resounded echo of a violin began to accompany the piano faerie. The last fey, a male, waved his hand slowly in the air, low bass notes of the phantom orchestra falling into the air. Smiling, Saraid turned to the male faerie, deep purple scars adorning his grey skin. Her eyes rotated and turned to purple, along with the rest of her. An organized snap of her fingers and violet flame burst from her hands. Saraid out stretched her hands, an illusion already beginning. Fiery purple figures danced alone in the air. Cyric reached out his hand as he glamoured the figures to new colors and defined shapes. Before the faeries a dramatic love story played before them, step in time and tune with the music. Saraid controlled the creatures and the setting while Cyric defined and tuned its character.

Taking her eyes away from her play, Saraid saw the stranger fey engrossed within her magic. They continued to play their music for the wonderful little drama before them, while Saraid only created for their music. Neither wished to end, the music too tearfully beautiful and serene while the play was too heartwrenchingly lovely and real. Another tram ran past, bringing the play from night to day. Glamoured fey aboard the tram watched below to see only glimpses of the tranquility that lay beneath the iron hell. The show continued, even after the tram past and its faerie passengers returned to the railways to watch the masterpiece. The five faeries completely lost themselves in what they were creating, never noticing its audience.

The play reached its climax, the beautiful girl was impaled by a sword held by her forbidden lover. She died, her heart torn in two. The forbidden lover cried, he had mistaken her for his rival. He held her close as large crystal tears fell to her wounds. Now faerie tale magic began to work as her heart healed and the lovely girl awakened from her flight with death. The couple rejoices and runs away to a nearby forest. The story ends with the girl's mother finding her blood on the ground and runs off into the forest in search for the couple.

Saraid dispersed her fire and Cyric relinquished his glamour. The three stranger fey continued to play, delighted smiles upon their faces. Looking around, the audience applauded very lightly as not to disturb the music. Saraid called her fire back to her, in the air she created brilliant violet flowers that glided down to the audience. Each gained one, a smile upon their magnificent faces. The five stood, the three fey nodded, grateful for their company, as they left. Music still resounded in the subway. The audience left, taking their purple flowers with them. Cyric and Saraid followed one, whose glamour returned her to a wonderfully aged older human woman. The three reached the surface. The sun hit the flower in her hands and it gracefully spiraled up and into petals. The faerie only watched in awe as the violet petals turned to a shimmering dust in the sky and wandered majestically away. She turned and nodded to Cyric and Saraid then went on her way. Cyric and Saraid smiled at each other in silence as they headed towards the coast to go home. Their ice cream lay forgotten on the subway rails.

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"This is fucking great!" Cyric yelled as he roared with laughter. Saraid scowled at the kelpie. She was experimenting with dresses for that night. She hated it when Cyric used human curses within his language. They were obscene and vile. It was almost as bad as the court fey with their uptight and righteous dialect and formal speech. Unfortunately, Saraid was stuck somewhere in between, learning her dialect from her brother and Cyric. It made her sound either stupid or arrogant when other fey decided to talk with her.

"Shut up Cyric! You believe I want to attend this infernal 'gathering'?!" Saraid yelled, her pink eyes blazing. The small fox faced faerie sat on an old dented and damaged dresser that sat off in the corner. It ruffled its fur and hissed at the air before it. Saraid relaxed mildly, it could sense her anger in the air and was going to attack it.

"Calm, Fighter," Saraid said, her glamour morphing the dress to that of a mortal Chinese replication. It was marvelous, black silk with hot pink embroidering. It reached to the floor where a white fabric made the bottom puff out. There was no fabric on her back, her wings ruffled slightly in the damp air. The sleeves and bodice was attached to the collar in thin strands of fabric. From the hips up, the dress clung to Saraid's form. Pleased with the design and make, she glamoured a pair of black heels with pink stitching.

"Going to a human affair?" Cyric asked. This wear wasn't something court fey wore, however it was something that Saraid had spied in an ironside dress shop as a child. Her brother Sayer had always promised to get it for her, but he never did. Once he became a divining faerie he became a recluse and wouldn't leave his home. For the time being, Saraid would glamour the mortal dress she had dreamt about as a child.

"No, I'm going to make a statement. If I have offended the prince, then I shall die in lovely mortal wear to defy the court. If the price has taken a liking to me, let the court see how defiant of a mate he wishes to choose," Saraid replied. Cyric snorted, her ideas were always outlandish at best.

"When you die, see if there is a mortal heaven and hell. At that case, as God or Satan for my mortality. I'd love to join you Saraid," Cyric snapped sarcastically. Saraid sighed, the sharp remarks always reminding her exactly how Cyric had been raised and the reason he was still partially angered.

"I won't die tonight. If I have to I will use the black fire," Saraid replied confidently. Shocked and afraid, Cyric bolted out of his seat on the chair and next to Saraid. He grabbed her by her shoulders and whipped her around. Side by side, Cyric towered over her.

"Are you insane?! That flame is one of two experimental flames! It could very well kill you! You aren't one hundred percent sure of what it is capable of! There are reasons your family is very few! Those forbidden powers have been known to kill those who control them! The Death Fires are the most dangerous and least known! Saraid, tell me you will not use that flame tonight!" Cyric yelled. Saraid stared, horrified, into Cyric's concerned white eyes. She nodded vigorously, She had never seen such a harsh reaction from Cyric except from these last few hours. Something had happened. He had heard something.

"What has Sayer told you?" Saraid whispered. A nervous smile graced Cyric's face. He released Saraid's shoulders, stepping back.

"A love so forbidden by law and fate, a mother's wrath enrages desperate works. Death befalls the one whom wished to call away law and fate." Cyric spoke, his voice as distance and cryptic as Sayer when he had told Cyric. A cold shiver fell down Saraid's body, the riddle within the prophecy was whose death was he speaking of?

"What question did you ask?" Saraid asked. Cyric shook his head, his black hair flying.

"Promise me you will not use the black fire," Cyric replied, refusing to answer the question. Saraid nodded, understanding her best friend's concern.

"I promise. My word is my binding law. The black flame will not be released tonight," Saraid swore. Cyric sighed and smiled. With a slight chuckle, he began to push Saraid towards the ladder leading outside.

"C'mon, time for you to strike a prince's fancy," Cyric teased. Saraid merely laughed and tried to forget the kelpie's outburst.