The changeling blinked, absorbing the room around him. The disgusting aroma of warm fish blew off the wooden table. The countless scratch marks spoke of either many years of use or an overwhelming lack of care. It creaked lightly when he put his elbow on it, his hand supporting his head.
Shirou pushed forward and solidified. The infinite formlessness undefined without a name was forced within the human identity. The memories recorded since his retreat into the world of colors flashed through his mind with crystal clarity, reinterpreted with a more human point of view.
Blue eyes glanced over at Gyd. Two images defined her, not fighting against one another but existing together as one. The first was that of a beautiful woman with long and wavy azure blue hair. The other was a more average human-looking lady with straight hair.
He was staying in her home. Somewhere far away from Japan in France. He wasn't in Paris, but it was the country with Paris in it. That had the famous tower, and a lot of Japanese tourists tended to find it disappointing… and that was the extent of his knowledge of France.
Nursery Rhyme's lips pushed together, her eyelids descending slightly as her nose wrinkled. Yet, her body posture was perfect enough that her bar stool made of books barely shook as she leaned forward.
"Yooo whoo! You're still there?"
"Yes," Shirou answered Nursery Rhyme. His pupilless eyes flicked over to her for a moment. He was talking to a doll like it was normal. Imaginary friends were something you were supposed to grow out of. A soft yet chilly voice whispered from beyond his mind, trying to spread like a blinding poison.
Gyd spoke to Alice. The two of them exchanged words for several minutes. The former took charge of the incomprehensible conversation.
Shirou used those moments to look over himself. His hair hadn't grown out much, if at all. It smelt awful despite that, the auburn strands grimy from a lack of care. The dirty feeling crawled over his body, shouting every time he tried to ignore it. He needed to get cleaned off, even if that meant getting near water.
His pointer finger went to his left ear, brushing sand out of it. His right ear didn't need to be cleaned as badly, but some sand was caught in its pointy hold. The removal of the irritants made them feel better, both twitching up and down.
"Miss Gyd has a lot to say and's making me do it," Nursery Rhyme drew his attention with her sour tone and pout.
"Thank you, I'll do my best to learn her language so you won't have to keep doing this," Shirou offered his gratitude.
"You better, or you wouldn't be getting any interesting stories for at least a week," Alice threatened as her pout dispatted to nothingness. "Now that your human half isn't about to fade like a helium balloon when you let go of it, she wants to confirm you'll stay here and learn from her – as a bigger fairy."
The smaller changeling almost nodded in agreement out of instinct alone but stopped himself. The memories of what'd happened with the last adult left him slightly skeptical. His human mind demanded more information. "What does that mean, exactly?"
"She's talking about fosterage," Nursery Rhyme answered without needing to consort with Gyd. "Like in a fairy tale when a young knight goes off and trains under some legendary hero of yore! Uhm… Basically, your kind has this tradition where an older fae takes a newly born one under their guidance for a while. Oh! And the older one gets the help of the younger one during it like an apprentice. It has an unbreakable oath and everything!"
Fosterage?
It was a distant term, but he might've heard it once or twice. An oath rang way bigger alarm bells in his mind. An unbreakable promise. You'd be a complete jerk to break one, and he wasn't a jerk. If he was going to make one, he would treat it very seriously. Assuming Gyd wanted them to make one, and Alice wasn't just mentioning it as something they could do…
It was a good idea in his eyes, as it meant they'd have to be truthful to each other. Truth would be important if they were to develop a good connection to each other. Especially as he must trust what she teaches him to be truthful.
He needed to learn more about his kind to survive and understand not only the world but himself. Plus, it sounded like they would work together on things, which gave Shirou plenty of chances to help her and maybe even others… Yes, he would be pleased with this arrangement as long as he gets to do a lot of helping and they're honest with each other.
"Tell her I agree, as long as she promises to be truthful," Shirou told his small companion, who did as he asked. Gyd's expression barely changed as she listened to his agreement, only turning to him and giving a small nod of agreement. She stood up from the table, picking up the stone heart from it.
"She agreed, but it looks like we're done for tonight," Alice told him as they both watched Gyd leave the room. The smallest person in the room stretched her arms out at him. "Let's go back to our room!"
Shirou sighed but obeyed. He had more things he wanted to ask Gyd, but that was better saved for when they could better communicate.
The changeling stood up from the table and picked up the doll. He remembered the way to the room he'd been placed in. The walk to it felt different now. The scents assaulting his nose, the ambient noises and the slight chill in the air brought him into the real world. He could focus on them, on the mysterious stain on the hallway rug, when they might've not even clocked his notice before.
When he entered his room, he closed the door behind him. It softly clicking closed.
His room was utterly spotless, cleaned with the skills honed over the years. He'd take on the task of doing the same for the rest of this messy house or die trying.
He sat Nursery Rhyme on the bed. It was Western-styled, so it took up far more room than was needed.
"How are you feeling?" Alice asked him. That she was concerned about him was troubling. She shouldn't be. Not now or a few minutes ago before that stone tablet… recentered him. "You wanna talk about what happened to your friends?"
"No, they're dead," Shirou answered swiftly and definitely. His eyes did not meet Nursery Rhyme's as he sat next to her. "I will remember them as I move forward. I will do better next time… but I can't go back. Thinking about it wouldn't fix anything."
"Can I tell you a story?"
"I guess?" Shriou agreed, rubbing the back of his head with an awkward cough. He sat down on the bed next to her.
"Once upon a time, a rabbit and a turtle were racing on a really tall hill. The adorable rabbit was the fastest animal in all the land. His name was Sir Quicny, not that anyone would know it. Sir Quicny would win a race a day, then speed off without talking to anyone! How could you make friends or get your own fan club like that?! – When he raced the turtle, he treated his foe like any other, running off at the gunshot at 100%. But it'd been raining the night! Sir Quicny had been so tired from the constant races he'd slept through it! He gained his lead, running so far ahead he was utterly alone… meaning no one was there to help him when he slid into a patch of slippery mud right off the hill, they were racing on! He landed deep in the thorny undergrowth where no one can see him. His legs shattered and bleeding all over the place!"
"Did he get help?" Shirou instinctively muttered, crossing his arms as he let the story wash over him.
"Nope! The turtle was way too sloooooow. Sir Quicny, being noble-hearted and prideful, wouldn't have called out for help anyway! That'd disgrace the sanctity of the race! And he couldn't give up, could he?!" Nursery Rhyme asked.
"No," Shirou scoffed at the idea.
"Yep, you get what he was thinking! He'd never give up. His dream was to be the fastest and beat everyone! How could he do that if he was willing to give up!" Alice said to Shirou's agreement on the principles of the matter. "The slope was way too steep for him to climb back up onto the race path, leaving him to drag himself through the thorny undergrowth he was trapped in! Unfortunately, he didn't realize he'd have to go a mile – or however many kilometers that is – of thorns because he'd been too focused on the upcoming race when he was climbing the hill. Sir Quicny got stuck in thorns, his shattered legs and the countless cuts bleeding him dry, leaving him unable to move at all!"
Shirou hoped somebody would save Sir Quicny the bunny.
"The turtle, a peasant named Turlow, passed by where Sir Quicny slipped without a clue, for the noble bunny neither screamed for help nor was visible due to moving further into the undergrowth! Turlow would go on to cross the finish line first, but he still got second place since everyone assumed they'd just missed Sir Quicny passing it first!" Alice's lips curved downwards, and her eyes became downcast. Yet, the joy of telling a story was obviously lurking just behind the sorrow. "All the spectators and Turlow left the hill as it started to drizzle again. No one knew of the trouble of Sir Quicny, for they had no reason or duty to. The ensuing rain would last for three days, flooding the undergrowth like never before, and Sir Quicny would never be seen again."
The fairy frowned as his hopes for a happy ending were dashed like the bunny's life.
"Do you understand the point of the story," Alice asked him with one finger pointed up in the air.
"I think so," Shirou nodded as he rolled the story around in his head. "Always pay attention to one's surroundings before executing a plan or goal; my old man taught me that. And a hero should always be on standby, looking out for those in need. Otherwise, you might miss those in need of help."
"No! Nope! Wrong!" Nursery Rhyme made an x with her hands before putting it down. "Well… I guess I can't force you to see a certain meaning in a story. I'll have to work on one that's clear enough a bird can't see it!"
"Feel free to tell me it, or any other, whenever you wish," Shirou offered Alice. He wasn't sure of what meaning he was missing, but she loved telling stories. It really brought her to life. And he liked listening to stories.
"I will," She says with a nod. "Get me some paper, a pair of scissors, and a few nice markers, and I'll even make it into a flip book!"
"I'll see what I can do," Shirou answered with a shake of his head.
The red-haired changeling turned the page of the book. The slightly yellow pages were thin, numbering in the hundreds. Dust flew into the air from every movement. A pencil twirled in the boy's other hand.
A dictionary was so boring, and studying day after day was murderously monotonous. If it wasn't of the utmost importance, then he'd probably be doing something else right now. Shirou had to learn French to be able to talk with anyone in the country he'd found himself in.
The first few weeks didn't go too well. No matter how much he tried to grasp the basics, his skills wouldn't develop. It was as if something was stunting his growth. Eventually, Gyd had Nursery Rhyme give him some helpful advice.
She told him to focus only on the basic meanings and rules but not try to understand them beyond that. The nuances and spirit of the language were to be ignored for the bland surface level. Shirou didn't think it would work when he was first told to do it, but it somehow did. The disregard for what many might argue as the most important parts of a language left parts that only appealed to the small fragment of cold banality in his soul. Strangely, it was the only way he could learn French, but it felt awful. He could feel the chill growing the more he had to rely on it.
Shirou's hands reached up and brushed against his pointed ears. He didn't notice it until Alice pointed it out, but his human ears had changed. Their tips were now pointed, nowhere near as much as his full ears but enough to be noticeable if someone looked closely. They were an obvious sign of his… inhuman nature. He didn't have much of a right to complain about that, but it was sure to make his life harder going forward.
His blue eyes glanced over to Nursery Rhyme. The small girl was drawing on some colored paper, working on the flipbook she wanted to make. Gyd was looking over some things he'd placed on the counter to be discarded as useless junk. He was only allowed to fill it up once every four days. Apparently, she was worried about him throwing everything away and that he needed to pace himself going through the garbage she brought in.
"Alice? Do you know why…" Shirou asked the doll, pausing halfway through. He was using French to practice, but he still had to stop and think about what he wanted to say. "my ears changed? Should I be worried about my wings… becoming visible to normal humans?"
"No," Gyd responded. The young woman turned around to look at him. She walked over toward the table and pulled out a chair. The legs scraped against the floor, loud enough to hurt Shirou's ears. She sat down and began to speak again, much slower this time. "Now is a good time to inform you about our kind, the changelings, and the important terms – words – for us."
Shirou nodded after he worked his way through Gyd's words. The boy closed his dictionary and leaned forward. His eyes widened slightly, his back straightening.
"A changeling has two forms that exist simultaneously – at the same time, together, at once. The mortal seeming – your human form, what other humans see. The Fae Mein is your real self; it is what other changelings see," Gyd explained, pausing briefly for Shirou's sake before continuing. "There are times when a seeming 'slips' and the fairy behind it is revealed. Your ears likely grew as a result of – because of, due to – your brush with bedlam."
"In other words, it's almost like the wolf rips grandma's dress because he's too big," Alice provided an easy example to understand. Gyd gave her an unimpressed side eye before ignoring her.
"The fae mein is you. Changelings' seemings shift – change, or progress through – three stages. Childling, wilder, and finally grump. The mortal seeming – your human body – and one's seeming are often linked. Seemings are a stage of life for a fairy. Most awaken to their true selves as children, in the childling seeming, age into a wilder and eventually a grump. Sometimes one can flow backward, or even skip from childling to grump, as they correlate to one's state of mind, but it is almost always linked with human age."
Shirou blinked, utterly confused by what she was trying to say. It didn't make any sense to him, and the words were getting jumbled together. His blue-eyed gaze turned toward Alice. He let out a reluctant sigh before speaking in his native tongue. "Can you help?"
"Okkie dookie. Gyd is saying changelings have three life stages, like how an innocent caterpillar and a majestic butterfly are the same insects at different ages! The three are childling, wilder, and old grumps that can't have a lick of fun. As your human self ages, fairies tend to 'age' into another stage as they mature. It's a really, really sad destiny, but some manage to keep wonder alive inside their heart and return to being awesome fun childlings!"
"I see. So, younger is better?" Shirou asked in French. It didn't sound like there were many advantages to moving to older seemings.
"No," Gyd answered, thankfully seeming to understand what he was asking. "Let me explain them in detail."
The French woman thankfully did so, taking many pauses for Shirou to ask questions and converse with Alice to better understand this facet of fae life.
Childlings tend to be under 13 years old but are really defined by their desire to discover things and have adventures. They saw the world as a big place, full of wonder and things to do. Childlings were the closest to their fae selves and their dreams. Apparently, some consider them to be the age where a fae is the most dangerous since they don't consider the consequences of their actions or have patience.
Shirou didn't agree with that. He could see the consequences of his actions and had plenty of patience. They were also shut out of a lot of adult activities, which wasn't fair.
Wilders were wild. They pushed boundaries and made changes to the world, pursuing their interest. They often burn themselves out, choosing to shine brightly for but a moment rather than a slow decay into banality. Wilders also liked engaging with such things as movies and arts rather than playing with imaginary friends or something.
How someone could degrade imaginary friends while being able to talk with them makes no sense. Alice may look like a doll, but she is clearly an actual person. Denying it was just being stupid.
Grumps were the last seeming, made up of older fairies – like ancient ones over 30 years old. Those who were more cynical or grounded in the Autumn World could end up as grumps while they're young as well. These mostly old-timers take a backseat in most things, letting wilders run the show and instead keeping old lore and information. Alice did most of the explaining on them, and they seemed like they needed help seeing the wonder in the world again. However, they're apparently more resistant to banality. Such resistance doesn't seem to help them much if it's about to claim them, though.
Shirou hoped not to ever become a boring grump.
The last process a changeling goes through is when banality claims them, and they forget everything about their fae lives. It's known as the undoing and amounts to the death of the fairy. Their human lives will continue without hope or wonder or dreams, all of them stripped away by the cold cruelty of the Autumn World. Nearly every changeling will be undone before they hit middle age, forcing their hearts to be buried and forgotten until their death. Never knowing what they lost.
Shirou's heart burned at the idea. To have one's dream and aspirations was horrid, but stripping them of their memories trampled upon what dignity an undone changeling still had. It was disgusting and needed fixing.
"What is banality? Was it… always such a big threat?" Shirou decided to ask, slightly mispronouncing most of the words in French.
"No, but its rise is a mangled tale with countless versions," Gyd answered with a harsh sigh. Her expression barely changes in spite of her agitation. "In ages long forgotten, Fae used to live without the need for human flesh – bodies, being changelings. The forms and truths of eons past are lost in the mists of time. The most widely accepted cause of our kind's decline was the disbelief of fairies. A millennium ago – one one and three zeros years ago - mankind started to turn away from the dreams and hopes they held to embrace science and the one true faith. They began to reject our very existence, viewing us as children's tales and the superstitions of an uncivilized past. This era is known as the Sundering when the worlds of human and fae were beginning to come apart."
Shirou frowned, getting a few corrections from Alice before Gyd continued to speak about the fall of the Fae.
"Human disbelief and banality are a force of their own. They seep into the land, the air, and the sea, polluting them with their taint until they become poisonous to wonder. By the time of the black plague, the connection between the Dreaming and the Autumn World was frail, the poison corroding the few remaining ties between them. That disease was the gunshot that killed the barreled fish. Humans lost hope and dreams as they burned the blighted corpses of their families, leaving bitterness in the ashes. In their grief, they shut themselves off from us, closing their hearts and minds. This was known as the Shattering."
Shirou had to talk with Nursery Rhyme again to understand Gyd. The explanation of the Shattering was a little limited. It only really applied to Europe, right? But Fuyuki was far colder than it was here. What happened to make it so cold? Was all of Japan like that? What about China, Korea, or even India? Were the Americas affected, too?
He asked Gyd, but she said she didn't know. She mentioned she watched a documentary that claimed the Black Death may have originated in China and killed millions there before traveling to Europe. Perhaps it could've caused the same thing in Asia, but she knew nothing about Asia, South America, or Africa. She knew some history about recent happenings in North America but wanted to save it for later, instead pivoting back to the older history.
"As the mortal world became inhospitable for the fae, our ancestors – those who came before, more metaphorical, or not literal, in a sense as we are those ancestors – chose to undergo the changeling way. Others – mostly nobles – fled the world and retreated to the heart of the Dreaming, the paradise Arcadia. Many of those who fled returned in the 1960s following the moon landing."
Arcadia? Paradise? How could a paradise compare with a utopia?
The changeling shook his head and ignored the thoughts. An irrational sense of being insulted slipped into his heart.
"I get this," Shirou spoke simply. He leaned forward while placing his hand on his head. "There's an entirely new world to learn about; it's like when my father was teaching me about… mages – magic? Sorcerors?"
"Your father? Mages?" Gyd's eyes lit up with interest, widening a noticeable amount.
"He's… dead, but taught me a little about them," Shirou answered, checking his words.
"Was he alive when you went through the Dream Dance – emerged as a fae?" Gyd asked with the slightest tilt of her head.
"No, it was after he'd died," Sirou answered, placing his hand on the dictionary in case he needed to find a word.
"Hmm… that seems like it would be beneficial – helpful – to you," she spoke. There was the slightest bit of kindness in her voice. "You got the helpful information without the dangers a mage might bring."
"It is the best way to start a story," Alice spoke in French. "Dead parents are the best motivator! All the best protagonists have them… or, well, don't have them?!"
Shirou nodded since it was true, even if he disliked his old man's death being degraded into a plot device. "He never talked about changelings. How do changelings… we… interact with mages."
"I don't know anything about them," Gyd admitted, her chair squicking as she shifted slightly. "You will explain it to me once you're better at French. For now, we might as well continue discussing our own kind."
The boy once again nodded.
"We are split into kiths, with each kith belonging to a certain group. The main ones are the Kithain, Gallain, and the Thallain. The Gallain are outsiders – everyone who is not Kithain or Thallain. They have their own subgroups, but they are rarer than the Kithain, the most populous group – the biggest or has the most members. The Kithain are a collection – group, selection – of kiths linked by the will of the Dreaming. The biggest kiths are the trolls, boggans, redcaps, satyrs, nockers, eshu, sidhe, and sluagh. My kith, as well as several other tiny groups, make up a small percentage of the Kithain. Our kind has very little presence here in this city. From what I know, there are eight active changelings in the area. All of them but myself are of the major kiths, and that is a fairly normal ratio."
"Yeah! But the story probably changes if you go to other places!" Nursery Rhyme commented in a cheerful tone. "Stories shift to suit their audiences; otherwise, they wouldn't resonate! Kiths do the same! Like a water fairy wouldn't do too in the desert, would they!"
Gyd let out a tired sigh, rubbing her eyes as if trying to wipe away a memory. "The last time I saw one of my kin, they were convinced they could swim all the way to Africa and live in the Sahara desert. I hope their next incarnation is smarter."
"Well. At least you remember them," Alice said, glancing away. "Many people don't get that, slipping away like forgotten dreams…"
"Perhaps, doll," Gyd glanced back over at Shirou after only giving Alice the briefest of glances. "Do you know what kith you are?"
"… Someone… claimed I was an eshu," Shirou said quickly, crossing his arms over his chest while leaning backward. "Does it matter much?"
"Yes. A kith is defined by the essence of a fairy's dreams. The changelings within a kith often share similar characteristics, resulting in some treating their fellow members as family or at least close kin. Other members of the same kith are more likely to share your viewpoint and work with you in any case. There are also politics between the kiths that you must be mindful of, as well as their birthrights and frailties," She paused to let Shirou discuss what she said with Alice before continuing. "it would be helpful to provide you with a simple rundown of them. I will go slowly and pause between them for you to catch up, but save questions for the end."
"To begin, there are the Sidhe. They are the natural-born nobles, split into their own houses with bans and boons. I don't know all of them; I am unsure of many of the birthrights and frailties that belong to many of the major kiths, much less the countless houses. From what I understand, however, these don't replace their birthrights and frailties but add to each. The strongest member of this kith is, without a doubt, King Shail of the Kingdom of the First Trees."
After doing his best to understand Gyd and checking with Alice, Shirou's interest was peaked by this King Shail person. He sounded important, and he must have been as Gyd started to explain his history.
"I have never met him and never wish to. He has reigned over the remains of the Brocéliande forest. From its mystical seat, he can control the very heart of France's Dreaming. In turn, this grants him limitless glamour beyond any other as he can draw upon the secret flame of France's dreams. It is said he uses this to crush a sea of chimerical horrors that besiege his stronghold. Others claim these horrors are the will of the Dreaming, sent to punish him as an unjust tyrant. These small packs of rebels don't tend to last long against a king who controls the nation's glamour, can call upon limitless amounts of it, and extinguish – stop, dimmish, end – any balefire flame at will. A balefire flame is the glamour center of a freehold – which is, to put it simply, a magical place where changelings meet. It provides refuge from the cold of reality and replenishes the changelings' glamour. Without it, or the ability to replace it, the rebelling kithain are likely to be undone or fall to infight."
"Brocéliande forest… that's where Morgan's Val sans retour was," the ancient fairy boy remembered after rolling the word around in his head. He pronounced Val sans retour perfectly, making no mistakes for the first time ever.
"Oh yeah! That fairy tale is really funny!" Alice giggled to herself. "Trapping all those unfaithful knights together is the perfect punishment! And it means she could play with them whenever!"
Shirou wanted to correct what Alice said, something about Mor- Mor-gaan- Morgan's actions, but the thoughts faded like a small flame in a blizzard. Whatever he remembered was forgotten again.
"Did you know Morgan Le Fae?" Gyd asked with evident surprise.
"I don't know," the young Japanese boy answered after a few moments.
"If you did, that could be a very valuable boon for us. We won't know more about your past self until you go through your saining, the process of receiving your True Name. Even then, you might not recover much," Gyd murmured, seemingly more to herself than to Shirou. "Returning to King Shail…"
"I know not if he is even a changeling; some of his loyalists claim he is a True Fae who protects himself from banality's assault through the glamour he plungers from all of France. What I know is that he has ruled for hundreds of years, and if he is a changeling, that means he's spent much of it in his stronghold to hide from time or is one of the fortunate few to retain their immortality. Legend states that he ascended to the throne by overthrowing the tyrannical House Taulas, which had fallen into eternal darkness. I have, reluctantly, talked to one or two of the rebels who claim this is a lie and Shail was simply a power-hungry fae who rewrote history to make himself the hero. Under him, he is said to have made certain alliances with British allies to receive a handful of Irish monks who preached and preserved some faith in the fairies before the Shattering. He also constructed a mighty fortress that withstood the Black Death and all that followed it. It is from there that he rules to this day and claims taxes in the form of glamour from every fairy in France. He is not one to mess with or anger."
Shirou nodded as soon as Gyd stopped talking, understanding the last part even if he had to talk with Alice about a lot of the stuff in the middle.
"The next kith is the Redcaps, who are orkish brutes known for an endless hunger and the ability to eat anything and everything – even people whole. They are typically viewed as troublemakers and travel in dangerous gangs. They should be avoided at all costs.
…
The sluagh are the creepest of the kithain. They are unable to speak above a whisper and often pale as corpses while dressed in black clothing. They are known for gathering information and speaking to the dead. I've never seen one.
…
Trolls are the pinnacle – the top, best, greatest – of honor and duty. They grow stronger when they take oaths and fulfill their duties, yet suffer greater for breaching a promise than any other. Trolls are normally extremely muscular – the troll who serves the local Sidhe Lord, Gérard Carrel, has arms thicker than both our necks combined – and have two horns on their forehead. Unlike Redcaps, they tend to be handsome and very attractive in my experience… though if you truly are an Eshu, know that Trolls may distrust you.
…
Satyrs are bound by their passions and love for life, indulging in whatever vice draws their attention. Because they are half goats, they are incredibly strong and swift, more so than most other kiths. Their flaw is their inability to not chase their passions or control their emotions, resulting in awful mood swings and fits of temper… you don't want to be around a drunk Satyr, much less an angry one….
…
From what I heard, Boggans are helpful, and they like craftwork and staying in their homes.
Nockers are the ones who are skilled at making chimerical treasures and inventing new things but have awful tempers and foul – unclothe, dirty, repugnant, disgusting, revolting, goss – mouths.
…
Pooka are changelings that are part animal and can fully transform into said animal. I have heard a conspiracy nut fae that passed through a few years ago claim they had a secret plot to take over the world and overthrow the nobility. I asked my Pooka friend about this, and they laughed and assured me it wasn't true. Léonce was also one of the few kithain who was honest about their kith's weakness, but it may be due to said weakness being the inability to lie. How could someone think that a kith incapable of lying was plotting a nefarious secret invasion?
…
The last of the major kiths is the Eshu. They are known for their love of travel and adventure, chasing their dreams with reckless abandon. The justification is that they are following fate and upholding justice for the unheard. They tend to have awful relations with trolls due to being flighty and not taking many oaths. Lastly, they tend to be viewed as fun storytellers, in equal measure to be viewed as troublemakers. One passed through a year ago."
Shirou struggled to grasp all the information he was given but thankfully had Alice to help him through it. Plus, Gyd's pauses between the long talks.
"Shirou…" Nursery Rhyme whispered to him, turning her head toward him while placing her hand next to her mouth. "I'm pretty sure Pooka are liars! Gyd's being pranked!"
The boy gestured at her to talk about it later when they were alone. If it was true, they'd need proof before bringing it up.
Thinking about the other fairy factions, a few sounded better than others. The amount of information she had for each group wasn't even, and her descriptions of trolls seemed slightly biased. He knew certain fairies were willing to eat anything, but he wasn't going to assume an entire group of people was planning to eat him.
"There are smaller kiths, such as my own – not to be confused with the merfolk or any other aquatic kith – or a certain other kith that is very loyal to King Shail… It would be impossible to list all of them, and they often end up assimilating into the greater kiths."
"If a kith is a group of similar changelings, then are there… 'kith-less' fairies who don't have enough people similar to them to form a kith?"
"No, probably not. There are certain ideas that are at the core of every kith, driving them. They may be expressed in different ways and seen in different lights by varying cultures, but the core spark still remains – and thusly, they belong to a kith… but that is simply my opinion…"
Shirou nodded, placing his hands on the arms of his chair and gripping them to awaken his numb fingers. "Earlier, you mentioned a tax?"
"Yes, in the form of dross – which stores glamour or is solidified raw glamour. Sometimes, objects in places of wonder can store enough glamour to become dross, like a forest mushroom. A glamour-filled painting could be used as dross at the cost of destroying it, while the flesh of chimerical creatures – the beings from the Dreaming, or chimera – could work as well. Changelings can also make it through their existing glamour pool, assuming they have the right knowledge and items on hand. One requires glamour to do that, however.
The easiest way to regain glamour is through sleeping by a balefire in a Freehold. This relies on the consent of the person who owns the freehold and tends to garner – get, amass, accumulate – very little glamour.
Then there are epiphanies. These are the methods used by our kind to gather glamour directly from mortals or other changelings. There are four main types of epiphanies, the most noble of them being Reverie. The most difficult is known as Rapture. The final two are the dark paths of Ravaging and Rhapsody.
Reverie is the most common method and may also be referred to as musing – as in an artist's muse. It is where a Kithain spends time with a mortal and inspires them to follow their dreams. For example, helping an artist get over their mental block or uplifting a human in general. Reverie produces a moment of ecstasy for the changeling as it reaches its climax, resulting in the human being filled with glamour and the muse receiving a portion in turn. This method helps to make the world better for changelings by increasing the glamour and wonder in the world. It is also sustainable, unlike some other epiphanies. Reverie is what I use and will teach you.
Changelings who muse often develop specialties known as a Musing Threshold. These are the methods by which a Kithain will inspire their patrons. Examples I've seen are helping those in need, thereby putting them back on their feet and in a position to create. Or creating love through the art of matchmaking or resolving relationship troubles.
We can determine who best suits our talents by getting to know them and using our kenning – or Faerie sight that, when used on a human, can see what inspires their dream and what troubles them. The use of kenning to shorten the time needed to muse is best used by those skilled in visual skills and are perceptive, but no one denies its usefulness… - Also, know this: a person you're musing can be mused repeatedly but requires one to work towards maintaining their bond and helping their dreamers."
"That sounds good," Shirou spoke after he was done reviewing what she said, placing his hands on his knees. His socked feet swayed against the floor. "Reverie sounds very respectable, better than mages and Quintessence. There's no need to draw it from nodes or sacrifice animals; only make the world a better place and help those in need. It's pretty cool."
"I have heard of mages assaulting freeholds, massacring the inhabitants for no other reason than to try and convert its glamour into their energy – this Quintessence… … Once again, we shall leave the mage talk for later," Gyd adjusted her glasses, after scratching her nose.
"Yeah! Happy stories are way better! Mages should be helping the good guys, not being meanies! Like Alice!"
"The second form of epiphanies is Rapture," Gyd continued on. Shirou sent his small companion a nod of agreement. Mages should be heroes like Kiritsugu. "It is different from the other forms because it generates glamour for oneself. There isn't much to say since the process is different for every changeling, and its basis is rooted in Reverie. Reverie is possible due to a fairy acting as a muse to a human soul. Changelings are faerie and mortal, with each half making up part of their souls. Rapture is essentially reverie done on oneself by inspiring both halves of one's soul rather than another human's soul. It is a very difficult process – none of our kin around Calais has achieved it – but it produces an exceptional amount of glamour as well as pushes a changeling to new spiritual heights."
Shirou wondered if a Sidhe without a human soul could achieve Rapture. If they need a fairy soul to inspire a human soul to belong to them, then it might be impossible. On the other hand, perhaps having a human body was enough to corrupt part of their fae soul into being more human?
…
Was the one Sidhe he knew human enough for it? Could he have become human enough if given the chance to live? If he wasn't failed and left to die…
The Seelie changeling did his best to ignore the dark voice telling him no. Whispering the nature of things doesn't change.
"Ravaging is a dark path of Epiphany that leaves all, even the world, colder, all due to an Unseelie fae's evil. Its history is said to go back to before the Shattering when the Unseelie Fae were more numerous and powerful. They would bring destruction and pain to humanity under the excuse of it bringing 'change.' They would gleefully feast upon the countless powerful nightmares born from this – though this is all legend.
It is used now as a psychic assault on people, human or changeling, with the only requirement being the Unseelie fairy must form a relationship with the person they plan to prey upon – attack, assault, damage, betray, hurt, steal from, lie to, tear apart at the seams – it doesn't have to be deep, but even the act of having casual sex or letting them into one of your secrets by accident, is enough for them to place their claws upon your heart.
They then assault the victims' souls, stripping them of their glamour. It is a painful – agonizing - process that taints the very glamour it produces, granting it a taste the Unseelie changeling revels in during the epiphany's climax.
This method strips the victim of glamour, not make more, and repeated ravagings can leave a human's spark extinguished. Empty. Their very soul, unable to dream or have hope ever again. It is also dangerous for the predator as they risk taking part of their victim's banality when they Ravage.
I have seen – one time while I visited England – Unseelie childlings do it to innocent human children without a second thought. The small kids were left crying – wounded and violated in a way they couldn't explain or prove. I tried to report it to the local freehold but was ignored… I can still hear their perverse giggles when they realized they won't be punished.
From what I heard, they have their own thresholds in which a user specializes, whether out of cruel desire or to steal more glamour. It would be something like making a person dependent on them and then destroying them emotionally. Or stripping them of their hope to fester in sorrow. Some may keep humans in that state constantly by preventing them from improving their lives.
It is an awful and cruel path that goes against all that is right."
Shirou glanced down at the table. Any joy or excitement about Reverie was gone at the idea of such a wrong practice. It was disgusting to steal away one's hopes and dreams. It should be obvious to anyone! Yet, it sounds like these people get off on doing it to those they know. Friends and family that know them or trust them, but the fairy purposely hurts and betrays them for their own satisfaction.
The anger in Gyd's voice made her opinions on the matter clear, even before Alice helped him through the finer details. It felt almost personal… Was someone she knew ravaged?
He glanced back over at Gyd to see her catching her breath. Their eyes met for an awkward moment before she glanced away first. She sat up straight, coughing into her hand before continuing.
"The final form of epiphany is abhorrent enough for even the Unseelie to find it repulsive. It is strictly outlawed under the threat of death. Its name is Rhapsody. It occurs when a changeling finds a mortal and fills them with an immense amount of glamour. The result is the artist being driven to near madness to complete a project, one guaranteed to be a masterpiece filled with multiple times the glamour that was put into the victim. It is then destroyed for the glamour to be released, wiping any trace of the masterpiece from the world.
In most cases, the artist will die of either exhaustion, illness developed from the stress the glamour puts on the mortal mind, or suicide. The latter is most often attributed to the state of the mortal's soul once the Rhapsody has run its course.
Their soul is rung dry, exhausted beyond repair. They lose the ability to create glamour or feel ever again. Often become beacons of banality that subconsciously seek to eliminate the cause of their pain – fairies.
The permanent destruction of someone already full of glamour and their possible conversion into agents of our destruction make it a form of epiphany that removes dreams from the world. Its evil is obvious enough to not need any further explanation.
King Shail used to have two changelings whose job was to investigate Rhapsody claims, but rumors say one was charged for committing that very crime. They were apparently one of the many commoners that King Shail ennobled before the return of the Sidhe. Last I heard, the other investigator, a Sidhe from House Leanhaun, is now solely responsible for these cases."
"How distasteful!" Alice commented after their routine review huttle. A look of complete disgust was on her face.
"Yeah," Shirou said, not seeing much to add. What was there to add to that? Everyone was disgusted and knew it. They might as well move on to something else rather than linger on this topic. "These laws and rules… are there any I need to know?"
"Many, but we can't go all of them now. Instead, I will go over the most important code before concluding this impromptu – spontaneous, random, unplanned – lecture," Gyd answered, brushing off her glasses before putting them back on. "That being the Escheat, a set of six rights enshrined in tradition that define changeling law.
The first is the 'Right of Demesne.' This is a right protecting lords and ladies' privileges and position as rulers of their domain. Essentially, it means they are allowed to be judge and jury over all crimes in their land, and vassals are expected to be utterly obedient to their ruler.
…
'The Right to Dream' is the law protecting humans' right to dream without the Fae stealing or influencing it. It is the right meant to protect from Ravaging and Rhapsody, but Unseelie changelings tend to either ignore it or creatively interpret it.
…
'The Right of Ignorance' works in hand with The Mist – the magical force that prevents mortals from noticing or acknowledging the Fae and strips banal changelings of their memories – and declares we can not reveal ourselves to humans. The amount of glamour, combined with other efforts required to get around The Mist, makes it both impractical and wasteful. It protects us from mankind, for should their cold gaze land upon the Fae, winter for all our kind will be near.
…
'The Right of Rescue' is the right for changelings and other creatures to be saved. It calls for Kithain to protect each other and ensure no one is left behind.
'The Right of Safe Haven' declares no one has the right to prevent those seeking refuge from the autumn world from residing in a Freehold.
The final right is that of life. It declares that Kithain doesn't have the right to kill another Kithain. The world has too few of our kind for us to senselessly kill one. Even the death penalty, except for in the worst of cases, only refers to being undone in this life."
"What happens in the worst cases?"
"Death by cold iron. Cold iron – also known as wrought iron – weapons are illegal in most Kithain domains. It is anathema to our very existence. If one's death is dealt with a weapon made of the accursed banal material, they will not reincarnate. They will not get another life. They are permanently dead, and in turn, the Dreaming is said to inflict a penalty upon the killer for terminating one of its children."
Shirou rubbed the part of his shoulder he'd been run through. The cold bite of its jaw echoed through him. And he was sure it would continue to till the end of time.
"I see. Don't trust anyone carrying cold iron," Shirou murmured to himself.
"I mean, in stories where fairies are the bad guys, the good guys should have it," Nursery Rhyme decided to add. Both Shirou and Gyd gave her unimpressed stares.
Logically, he knew what she said was true. Emotionally, he was a fairy, and they were talking about a method to destroy their very souls. She picked the wrong time and table to support cold iron.
Gyd shook her head as she got up, walking back over to her small TV and turning it on.
"Would you prefer a boring deus ex machina out of nowhere?!" Alice complained to him, defending her opinion. "Cold Iron is true folklore and part of fairy tales… well… the more modern ones… But! It makes sense! And doesn't come out of the blue! It's a reasonable way for good, normal humans to beat the powerful evil fae! Would you prefer the good guys lose?!"
"I'd prefer a happy ending where everyone makes peace without the need for violence or someone losing," Shirou fundamentally rejected her position.
Nursery Rhyme hymned lightly. Shirou couldn't tell if it was in agreement, disagreement, or somewhere in between. She looked back down at her paper and started working on her book again.
Shirou figured that was a sign he should go back to studying, but as he flipped through the book, he became lost in thought.
Eventually, he'd have to deal with all this stuff Gyd talked about. Evil changelings abusing humans, politics, laws, banality, finding Nursery Rhyme's Alice, and more.
It was exciting. The world had so much to learn and do, more than enough to fulfill several lifetimes. So many people need help…
Shirou felt like his feet were firmly on the ground for the first time since Kiritsugu's death. He just needed to make sure he didn't fall when he started to walk and later run.
AN:
Hello, welcome to another chapter.
Much didn't happen. Decided to focus on explaining things. This is the first part of that. Even if talked about before, I want to make a section explaining a lot of the lore together rather than forcing people to search around for the lore. The next chapter will give out information about Shirou and his situation more lore to understand and help people center themselves in the world. This chapter is already 8.6k words and I don't want to force to much information in one scene and want to be able to make further ones take place while doing things and more tied into the story + show better characterization.
I hope this was an alright introduction to basics of changeling. 11 chapters and 100k words in…
Have a wonderful day and a happy new year!