The Birth of the Witch Queen

														𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔚𝔦𝔱𝔠𝔥 𝔔𝔲𝔢𝔢𝔫

	In the far West, the Prince of the Morning could be seen stretching the last tendrils of daylight over the encroaching sapphire of twilight, a final lingering farewell before sinking below the blurred horizon. Oranges, pinks and purples faded from sight as the full moon rose ever higher, turning the day to grey dusk and for a fleeting moment, both Sun and Moon could be seen, chasing each other westward in courtship. Then, like the lid over an eye or the pulse of blood behind a healing bruise, the brilliance of the Sun became muted, giving way to the splendor of the silver Moon's cold caress in stark contrast against the night sky.
	The Earth below the celestial body's pallid gaze was bleached of both color and sound. Critters of every manner had nestled into warm dens and burrows just before the first sleet of the season blanketed the ground and turned the Earth into an icy wonderland. It was a solemn, frost licked world -- one where mothers rushed their children into the safety of warm homes in hushed tones -- and t'was made all the more chilling by the silver illumination of the moon and stars above. And so it was by this natural light that the silence was shattered like fine glass by the gentle crunch of feet as they sank into the snow with each cautious step.
	A young woman made her way up a small knoll; the last rolling hill on a vast expanse of what would be farming fields come the spring. She wore a crimson cloak of wool much too large for her petite frame; the skirt of which dragged through the snow and muffled her footsteps. The hood hung low over her brow, concealing all but the twist of her lips and soft tresses of which spilled over her bosom in a great chestnut river. Her right hand gripped tightly at the large, knobbed handle of a twisting cedar staff; her pale knuckles the only sign of her struggle. Every few moments, her cramped fingers would reaffirm the hold on the staff before she took another step. Her journey carried her North, towards a massive forest whose snowcapped canopy stretched longingly into the clouds.
	To her left was a man with a ragged, grey-speckled beard who stood tall and stern. His jaw muscles clenched and unclenched with worry as he looked over his shoulder at the flickering lights of the village they had left behind. Dark, scrutinizing eyes scanned the outskirts of the town, watching... waiting for any threatening shapes that may break apart from the shadows in pursuit. When none were forthcoming, he pulled his own hood up to ward off the harsh bite of the wind that nipped at the tips of his ears and turned his attention back to the woman. A gentle hand rested at the small of her back, giving her much needed support and guiding her past the lip of the small hill. The couple paused, just briefly to catch their breath.
	"Ebrithril is upon us, sweet lover o' mine," the woman's musical voice addressed her companion, barely contained excitement dancing at the edge of her voice. Her head rose, revealing features which made her appear ghoulish in the pale moonlight as bright azure eyes pierced into the shadows of the forest ahead. "The wood is alive and welcomes us into its midst." She drew on the last reserves of her energy and nearly fell as she lurched forward. Strong arms caught her slight weight though, drawing her up and into them protectively.
	"This venture is too much, Mercedes." Concern emanated from the man in waves, pouring over the woman as she shivered against him. "Let us return before the Elders miss us, whilst we can still take back this Fool's Quest. I 𝘣𝘦𝘨 of you, Cedes."
	Mercedes tensed and pulled herself back, stepping away from the comfort of her lover's embrace. Her strong brow furrowed as she searched his features for any hint to a deeper meaning behind his words. Was he truly more afraid of what lay beyond than the terrible wrath the village would rain down upon them for daring tread so far? When next she spoke, her eyes looked away and towards the now darkened village. Her voice was as cold as the frigid ground they stood on. "Would you have me and my own put to death? Would you have those spineless wolves tear the flesh from our bones with their tongues of fire? That is what awaits us if we return."
	"You know that is not what I wish," was the stiff response. "However, we could still keep our secret. There are those who would protect you. It could be spread that you need travel to another town and you could live below one of the houses; at least until--"
	A sharp bark of humorless laughter sliced through the air, silencing his tongue. A cynical sneer twisted Mercedes's features and she all but growled at him: "I will 𝑛𝑜𝑡 cower in the cellar of one of those flea-bitten mongrel homes like a frightened rabbit. I 𝑟𝑒𝑓𝑢𝑠𝑒 to survive off of the scraps and pity of others.
	"Either you follow or you return to that wretched place 𝑎𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑒. You have seen what they do to my kind; could you live with yourself, son of man?" Her eyes flashed in the dark of the night, meeting her partner's steady gaze and daring him to come with her -- daring him also to return to his comfortable home. The air around them was swollen with tension that begged release. Finally a defeated sigh and the man's shoulders relaxed. His gaze softened and he looked at her with such tenderness that she regretted her coarse words.
	"I would follow you to the ends of this world and the next, Cedes." Without waiting for a response, he leaned in and brushed his lips over a mouth as soft as rose petals in the faintest imitation of a kiss. Mercedes tilted her chin skywards, welcoming the man's caress even as he stood back to his full height. "Guide me, my love, just as the moon guides you. Let us never return here; let us be reborn into a new life -- one meant just for us. I will stand by you now and evermore," he ended by tucking a loose lock of her dark tresses behind her ear before letting his hand fall away.
	The corners of Mercedes' lips curled upward in a smile that betrayed the fluttering in her heart and gut. To hide the flushed pallor of her cheekbones, she cast her eyes towards their destination, listening to the whisper the leaves of the forest created as they brushed against each other. Her free hand reached out from under the folds of her cloak, slender fingers seeking out her companion's strength. Their hold on each other was strong, unwavering now despite the daunting world that awaited them. Cedes gave her lover a final look, one filled with love, devotion, and understanding, before tightening her grip on the staff and resuming her -- and now his -- journey onward. They did not look back from whence they came and soon the darkness of the trees pressed firmly down upon them, before swallowing them whole.


	Minutes passed into hours and far above the moon and constellations crept by in the silver speckled sky, and still they walked onward. Mercedes' breathing was ragged now, her effort far more evident than ever before. A glossy sheen of perspiration coated her brow and she leaned heavily into the man's side as well as on her staff, stumbling along next to him in weary delirium. A sharp pain ripped through her midsection, causing her to nearly double over on the game trail they followed. The experience left her trembling and her fevered mind wondered briefly if she should not have taken up her lover's offer to return.
	Even as she vehemently rejected these thoughts, casting them to the dark depths of her mind, there came the soft tinkling of music from not far ahead. Each chiming tune was followed closely by melodic laughter and song, made louder and more forceful by a swift breeze through the trees. Mercedes' snapped out of her inner contemplation, her breath catching in her throat and her grip on her companion's hand tightening as she searched the trees ahead. "Ebrithril..." she murmured, feeling the pull of the music tug at her heart and strengthen her resolve.
	Next to her, the man stiffened. His concern for Mercedes faded to raw hunger as his eyes delved towards the source of the enchantment. Every part of who he was longed to find the spell casters who could weave such powerful magic; this she could see as they gathered their strength on the path. T'was naught but her slender hand and his own resolve that kept his feet from carrying him away. Her hold on him tightened, her rigid grasp nearly cutting off the circulation in his fingers but severing the enticement of the compelling melody. His attention and anxiety for the slight woman apace with him returned.
	"Are you certain of this, Cedes?" His tone no longer contained the fear of earlier, but love and compassion so strong it fell over Mercedes' senses in rivulets.
	"More certain than I have ever been. The forest is already alive, thrumming with life. The magic of Ebrithril will not be denied," a smile touched her features as she looked up at him. "Assist me, these last few steps please." At her request, he pulled his hand unwillingly from hers, and curled his arm around her lower back. Together, they walked forward and together they spilled forth into the clearing of Ebrithril, the Winter Solstice festival of the Fae.
	There was no snow in the meadow, though the low hanging branches of the trees that guarded it were burdened heavily by the blankets of white. Instead there was blue-tinted grass that was shimmered and rippled as water, whispering to and fro in the nighttime breeze. A small hut with no door or windows, but rather a single arched opening at one side, resided to the right of the clearing nestled between two thick cedars. However, most astonishing were the entities that dwell within. No myth or legend could have prepared man nor woman for the beings that danced around them; above all else, this was the land of make believe; this was the realm of Once Upon A Time and they had lost themselves to it.
	They had not the stature of regular humans, but were short, gangling, and thin like children, the tallest of which would barely reach Mercedes' sternum; the smallest were no taller than a human forearm, with small dragonfly-like wings that carried them up and over the treetops. Some seemed to not be completely there, translucent forms flitting in and out of sight between the blue spruce and towering cedars. There was one whose skin appeared as dark as nightshade, but at closer inspection, was covered in a thin coat of midnight fur. He, for the trilling laughter that peeled from his lips was very obviously male, danced past the intruders in pursuit of another with fair hair that shone like Dwarven gold. Still another had silver fish scales padding its shoulders and hips, illuminated under the bright moonlight, gender indistinguishable before it frolicked into the safe embrace of the forest.
	These were the beings of old, the Fae who upheld the forests even in the coldest of winters, and there were hundreds of them, coming and going and taking no notice of their guests. Their voices joined together like woven silk in song, howling up to the twinkling night sky as a few individual's harmonic, joyful laughter blended with the haunting tune. The words were not ones Mercedes understood but the effect was unforgettable nonetheless; gooseflesh raised the hairs on the nape of her neck and forearms. Beside her, the same could be seen happening to her companion. They dared not speak nor move for fear of shattering the magic being worked before them. Even now, as they watched in awe, a stirring came from the side of the clearing and a creature that was neither man nor beast nor Fae emerged from the meager hut.
	She came as no other before, on polished hooves of pale ivory, clad in nothing more than the pelt upon her small breast and slender calves. Tufts of sterling fur sprouted from her ankles and forearms, a hand's breadth longer than fuzz that covered her feminine modesty. Where no fur existed -- her hips and sides of her smooth stomach -- silken cream-tinted skin shone through. Over her shoulders hung long tresses that flowed down in alabaster waves until it was indistinguishable from the plumage of her bosom. Two ribbed antlers rose from the creature's brow, curving over her dome and away from the back of her skull until they ended in a multitude of unique tree-like branches; they followed the same color pattern as the rest of her, matching most the incandescence of her cloven feet. The creature's greatest striking feature was her face, which bore a wide set nose below massive opal eyes with no pupil. Prominent cheekbones lead down to a razor sharp jawline and a small, feline-like mouth.
	The sharp clicks of hooves on wooden planks could be heard even above the delightful music of the Fae; the being's aura seemed to gleam from within as she bathed in the light of the pale moon. The circle of trees was humming with anticipation as the Fae noticed her and, one by one, their tune became a starved frenzy. They swirled around the she-beast's lengthy legs, a myriad of colors falling in and out of existence as they begged for her attention. The boldest of the smaller Fae even tugged at the long patches of fur attached to her ankles, but were shaken off as she made her way to the center of the clearing. She stood tall and regal, her poise as graceful and alert as a doe. Slowly, she lifted one hoof off the swaying grasses and then brought it down hard. The ground rippled as water and the reality all around them came close to fracturing.
	The creature's blind eyes fell upon Mercedes, seeming to see straight to the heart of her and suddenly all of Mercedes' doubts seem to wash away. The faun, for that is the word that came to Mercedes' mind to describe the being before her, never broke her gaze as she began to glide through the movements of dance with her Fae company, much to the trilling glee of each one. The constellations crept across the midnight sky, and still the Fae danced on. Entranced, Mercedes and her partner could have watched for an eternity, but something stirred within the very heart of her.
	Pain. The sudden electric force surged through her body, white hot like a newly forged blade, erasing all rational thought. An agonized cry that sounded more animal than not tore from her lips as she doubled over, clutching at her midsection. As she fell, she twisted so that her full weight fell on her shoulder and she heard more than felt the tearing of ligaments as her arm twisted unnaturally beneath her. Her body shook on the ground, even as the man dropped to his knees to try holding her as she seized. He called her name, his anguish at not being able to help plain on his face. As she writhed, the heavy cloak she had been wearing fell away, revealing the source of her acute agony. Mercedes' stomach was swollen in the latest stages of child bearing.
	The peace in the clearing shattered like glass at Mercedes' outburst, causing the Fae to pause in their ceremony and give startled looks in the intruders' direction. Each face held an alien curiosity, but none moved forth to help the distressed couple. The man called her name again, veins in his brow and arms bulging as he struggled to still his lover so that she not injure herself further. A wild desperation gleamed from the depths of his eyes as he whipped his head towards the onlookers. "She came here for your help! She believed in the magic of your kind! PLEASE, HELP HER!" his begging was choked with tears as the woman's seizing slowly lost strength. Her eyes were closed and sheen of perspiration covered her pallor; her chest rose and fell with ragged breathing even as her strained movements stopped.
	When finally the clearing stirred, it was the Faun who moved forward, each fall of her glimmering hooves caused reflections to glance off the sides of trees. Her expression was somber but distant. The man tensed as he felt the vast void of the unknown cover him even as his cloak covered him. His pupils dilated and before him he saw the great expanse of the Faun's otherworldly consciousness. He beheld the dying breath of stars as they painted the great abyss with their radiant blood and a sorrow so great gripped the heart of him that tears leaked freely down his cheeks. When she spoke, her lips moved not, but rather the presence of her mind descended thick and heavy upon the forest and all its creatures.
	"Son of man," she began, the voice of her mind resonating as if she spoke in an empty cathedral. "What might you relinquish so that your offspring may continue on? What have you to give that mine kin and I have not?"
	The questions were not meant to be answered by him, but he fought through the oppressive haze of the Faun's mind with iron determination. When he spoke, the being's unseeing eyes narrowed. "If it please you, I give my life. I give the bounty of the land I reside on, the riches of my hearth as passed down by my fathers before me. Please, just sa--"
	Instead of answering, the air shimmered and became heavy, an almost physical manifestation of the Faun's inner mind as she silenced him. Her expression did not change, but her opal hues bore into him from above, reading his memories and lying bare his thoughts and feelings before her. "We have no need of mortal lives; man die on and on and ever onward without our assistance." With her words, a series of images flashed in his mind, impressed upon him from the Faun's. Fields soaked in the blood of thousands from a long lost war, villages of the dead and dying caught up in the wave of a malignant plague, and the Earth itself tearing open to swallow people whole or engulf them in a molten tongue of fire.
	Unable to contain himself, the man leaned over the side of his lover and retched up colorless bile. The Faun continued uninterrupted. "We have no desire to reap the land, for our bodies need no nourishment. We gain no pleasure nor status from the riches mortals make for themselves. It is we who sing and nurture the land to shape the fabric of your reality and my brethren and I are the greatest jewels of existence. Who alive could equal our radiance?" Her voice boomed as she finished and a blinding pale light illuminated the forest. The Fae burst into exclamations of excitement and their bodies shimmered every color of the rainbow as they basked in the energy provided by the Faun's overwhelming will.
	"What would you have of me then," through gritted teeth the man spoke, his grip tightening around the slight frame of his unconscious partner.
	A slow smile spread across the Faun's features, her thin lips pulling back to reveal the points of needle sharp canines. Her every movement deliberate and slow, she crouched before the male and the female, who's breathing was barely noticeable. One of the being's slender fingered hand reached up to place the pale palm against the man's brow. A tremor ran through the length of his spine. All around the Fae looked on as still as statues aside from the radiant, twinkling colors given off by each of their hides.
	"As the hour of me and mine own grows long and the memories of our kind dwindle, so too does the respect mankind once gave to us. Man grows reckless, as even you have demonstrated by venturing here." The faun paused, her fingers tangling themselves in the sandy brown of the man's hair. He winced, but moved not. "Therefore mine price is your own memories... And the daughter yet born. Your mate will not survive, but your daughter will be the greatest creation of both our races, though you will not know of her. She will be the envoy of a realm beyond the touch of mere man, able to walk on the edge of light and dark. And you? You shall return to your home and live the full extent of your life as the rest of your kind does, meandering day to day in ignorant bliss of the true nature of this world."
	Even as the Faun's train of thought fell silent, the man felt her consciousness wrap around his as thick as a wool blanket. He was unflinching, held in the enchantment of the Faun's words and held by her blind gaze, which now he realized saw more than he ever would. His voice was silent as his mind writhed and twisted as what felt like claws tore through the inside of his head, scraping across his most cherished memories. He was robbed of all but his namesake, precious thoughts and feelings vanishing from mind and heart as if stolen by a thief in the night, and still he was unable to cry out. The creature across with him pulsed with energy, like a mosquito bulges as it finishes a large meal and slowly, inch by inch, the Faun withdrew from his mind.
	"Go now, son of man. May you never return to the realm of the Fae folk." It was the first she spoke aloud with her canorous voice; the curse like shackles clamping over his heart, mind, and soul. Slowly he untangled himself from the woman on the ground, curious as to who she was. His gaze wandered over the mound of her stomach, and he hoped she would be okay. With no words left to say, he left the clearing, stumbling over tree roots as he went but never stopping. He had needs to return to his home, for the affairs of his life would not wait; could not wait. The Faun watched until she could catch his scent no longer then graced the comatose woman with a look of surreal tenderness.