#on faeries

[Soon enough, Spéir had finished setting up camp. Their single tent sat close to the campfire; a clear tarp stretched above them to shelter everything from sudden storms; and Nova—who Spéir had helped physically carry on Scamall's behalf, since they'd fought magic being used on them—laid against one of its wooden poles, having slowly consumed half-melted ambrosia in their sleep.]

Scamall: [huddled up in a bundle of blankets, sitting half-beneath the lip of the tent and in front of the fire]

Spéir: [sitting across from her on the other side of the fire. Has a leg propped up against the ground and an arm against its knee, his back against one of the trees that'd shifted its way into their camp]

[Things in Talamhdé often moved as though they had a mind of their own… but, more often than not, it was Talamhdé Itself that had the mind, not them. And the tree seemed to be little different, so Spéir chose to get comfortable with it.]

Spéir: [staring into the distance, his face half-turned away from her and a subtle tension underlying his expression]

Scamall: [uneasy, but…] 😅

Scamall: [tiredly stares down at the half-finished ambrosia-and-herb tea Spéir had made for her]

Spéir: [had insisted she should have some now, since he'd had a whole square to himself earlier]

Spéir: [as the silence stretches between them, finally speaks up to say:) "Scamall."

Scamall: [shakes herself awake, quickly looking up at him]

Spéir: [offers a weak—but obviously forced—smile, then adds uneasily) "about earlier…"

Scamall:

Scamall: [lifts her cup to her lips to silently sip at it. Watches Spéir, knowing he'll continue on his own]

Spéir: [glances away from her for a moment, but quickly looks back as he finishes) "… when Talamhdé fell apart on us. What did you think of that?"

Scamall: [blink]

Scamall: [frowns, ears drooping and eyebrows furrowing as she watches him uneasily]

Scamall: [lets her arms—and the tea—fall back onto her lap.]

Scamall: (uncertainly, because everything about the situation had been obvious) "… what do you mean?"

Spéir: [sighs heavily, lifting a hand to half-cover his face. His beak-nose makes it so he has to do it at an angle where she could see his lips if she really tried]

Spéir: [peers through the gap between his dark, starry fingers as he answers cautiously) "… why do you think it did that."

Scamall:

Scamall: [holding her breath without meaning to, absentmindedly looks to Nova's sleeping form]

Nova: [has slowly dropped from the wooden pole to be laying across the ground, where wild grasses and flowers sprouted around their body. Snoring softly and hugging themself again, but sleeping much more soundly than before]

Scamall: (voice sounding distant even to herself) "… you remember Moyner—"

Spéir: [winces]

Scamall: "—better than I."

Scamall: [eyebrows furrowing slightly, turns a gentle, worried look onto Spéir]

Spéir: [still leaned back against the tree, one leg curled flat against the ground and the other propping his knee up. His hand is still covering his face, but the angle and his glowing freckles make it clear that he’s wincing]

[Besides, they were fae. Unlike humans, it was almost impossible to hide how they felt. Their ears would always betray them.]

[And Spéir's four, long and feather-tipped ears were drooped into his shoulders.]

Scamall: (gently) "… so I don't know why you'd ask. That was obviously God. Though—obviously, I have no better idea than you why they'd be interested in this faerie."

Spéir:

Spéir: [ears slowly pop back up as he takes a slow, uneven deep breath—but he doesn't immediately speak. Clearly still struggling to find his words]

Scamall: [lets out a slow sigh of her own, ears drooping and looking back down at her tea]

Scamall: (voice soft, almost absentminded) "although… their domain is weird. I can't seem to figure it out."

Scamall: [looks up at Spéir again, eyebrows furrowed]

Spéir: [meets her eyes, though his face is empty minus a slight tension]

Scamall: (uncertainly) "what do you think it is?"

Spéir: [swallows, looking away almost… guiltily?]

Spéir: (voice subtly uneven) "… something nature-y, obviously. I can't really tell, either."

Scamall: [ears droop—but sighs, quickly looking away to finish her tea]

Nova: [has managed to curl into a ball again, their arms over their head, but it's loose this time around. They seem comfortable]

Scamall: [smiles a soft, sad smile as she eyes them]

Scamall: [once again remembering their fear, their bravery, and how they'd risked their own life to keep her and Spéir from getting dragged into their problems. How they had all that, when they were only a little faeling]

Nova: [despite their maturity, Scamall got the sense they couldn't be any older than seven]

Spéir: [takes a slow, deep breath, standing up]

Scamall: [surprised, looks back to him]

Spéir: [offers her an awkward, slightly-forced smile as he walks around the fire to sit down at her side. Finally, wraps his arms around her in a tight hug]

Scamall: [metaphorically melts into him, tearing up and laughing weakly as she hugs him back]

Spéir: (gently) "I love you, Scamall."

Spéir: [but, before she can say it back, continues more evenly) "I'm going to keep watch by the tree tonight, okay? You think you can take a stuffed animal?"

Scamall: [smile fading, presses her face into Spéir's shoulder as she hugs him tighter]

Spéir: [usually would be beside her—letting her cling to him—while one of them slept and the other kept watch, but… sometimes, he'd want to stay separate. And, to make up for it, he'd offer her a stuffed animal to cling to in his place]

[Since it was made from his essence, he'd reasoned, it should be little different from her cuddling him]

[But it'd never been the same.]

Scamall: (into his shoulder, voice muffled and disappointed) "… yeah. I love you, too, Spéir."

Spéir: [gives a weak laugh, squeezing her tighter]

Spéir: (gently, though there's an edge to his voice) "sorry… I'm just a little antsy today. I don't want to disturb your sleep, you know?"

Scamall: [gives a slow, hesitant nod as she continues clinging to him, not wanting to let go] 🥲

Poor Scamall doesn't get to cuddle with her brother 😔

On a more serious note... GOD!? God was the one who broke Talamhdé like that!? What's their connection with Talamhdé, and what reason(s) would they have to care about Nova???

story intro table of contents chapter one < last part next part >

Spéir: (at the same time, hesitantly looking back down at her, voice soft) "I'm going to set up camp by myself. Do whatever you need to for them, alright?"

Scamall: [hesitates, caught off-guard]

Scamall: [can't help a small smile, ears drooping and eyebrows furrowing slightly]

Scamall: (gently) "thank you, Spéir. I know this isn't easy for you."

Spéir: [face flickers, jumping from indignant, to embarrassed, and quickly settling on irritable as he purses his lips and turns his face away]

Spéir: [ears low and pointed back in irritation, grumbles) "I never said that."

Scamall: [giggles softly, raising a hand to cover the lower half of her face. At the same time, draws her other hand—and a square of ambrosia—from one of her pockets]

Scamall: [fae-tipped ears lowered back slyly, teases gently) "oh, you didn't have to say." ;)

Spéir: [scoffs—and, though Scamall can't see it, she knows he's rolling his eyes as he turns away]

Spéir: [stepping away, sulkingly) "whatever."

Scamall: [snorts, then gives a longer giggle]

Spéir: [gives a heavy sigh with his back still to her, but smiling softly, and stops a few steps away. Begins drawing their equipment from his essence pocket, apparating it into existence and letting it slowly drift to the ground]

Spéir: [like all faeries, had an 'essence pocket': an invisible space adjacent to their plane tucked into his aura. He could summon objects from or hide them within with just a flex of his magic]

[Still, while every faerie had an essence pocket, their ability to use it varied. Like most things magical, Scamall struggled to use hers as efficiently as Spéir. If she let her focus slip for a moment too long—or tried using too much magic outside of it—she'd accidentally let things slip out.]

[So, of course, Spéir was the one to hold onto all of their stuff.]

Scamall: [though she wants to continue teasing Spéir, forces herself to focus and look back down at Nova]

Nova: [like before, is curled into a tight ball, their form translucent and flickering.]

[Like all faeries' did when they were running out of essence.]

[If a faerie completely ran out of essence—or magic—that was it. Their entire existences were fueled by their magic, and they were nothing without it. They were creatures of the elements, of concepts and features, and they'd fade away without their substance.]

[In short: Nova was dying.]

[At least… for now.]

Scamall: [humor drying up, slowly lets out a strangled sigh]

[Ambrosia, as a concentration of pure magic, would be more than enough to bring Nova back from the brink.]

Nova: [despite their condition—or perhaps because of it—barely fights Scamall as she carefully grabs their arms and pries them from over Nova's head]

Scamall: [lets out another heavy sigh as she sits back, anxiously looking down at the faerie]

Scamall: (to herself) I probably shouldn't feed them lying down…

Scamall: [nods to herself, summoning her magic to create a vortex around Nova, sweeping them up in the gust. Trying to keep herself calm—knowing both Spéir and Nova were relying on her to do this—strides beside Nova as she drifts them toward a tree]

Nova: [face twisted and brow furrowed, flails weakly within the vortex—and their essence reacts, feebly trying to fight Scamall's!]

Scamall: [nearly drops them in panic. Instead, with barely a moment to think, quickly zips Nova the rest of the way there and all but drops them]

Spéir: [pauses setting up camp, glancing back at the two with a slightly-quirked eyebrow] Spéir: [unhappy Scamall's worried, of course, but…] Spéir: [annoyed.] Spéir: she really has nothing to worry about. >:/ Spéir: [huffs, rolling his eyes—although his heart skips a beat—and forcing himself to return to his task]

Nova: [flops sideways onto the ground, quickly curling into a ball again… though, thankfully, their essence separates from Scamall's. Instead, it weakly curls around them, tightening on their form protectively]

Scamall: [eyes wide and heart pounding, but… forces herself to let out another strangled sigh, relieved] :'DDD

Scamall: they can interact with air essence? What are they? I thought they were—but that's not important right now.

Scamall: [unknowingly anxiously spinning winds around them to soothe herself, closes the distance between herself and Nova to kneel at their side. Brow furrowed in concern, awkwardly pries their arms from over their head again, then gently sets them with their back against the tree]

Nova: [weakly resists her all the while, face twisted in distress—maybe having a nightmare?]

Scamall: at least they're not trying to fight me magically 😅😓

Nova: [and, thankfully, stays where Scamall put them. Just wraps their arms around their torso, hugging themself with all their feeble strength]

Scamall: [smiles sadly, brow furrowed in concern. At the same time, manifests another arm out of the air to gently brush Nova's vermillion hair out of their face and tuck it behind their ear. With her physical hands, holds the ambrosia square steady and breaks a small piece off of it]

Nova: [weakly stirs in place, but… slowly relaxes, pressing their cheek into the hand Scamall formed from magic]

Scamall:

Scamall: [caught off-guard, but… also can't help remembering how lonely they'd looked when she'd first seen them]

[Her initial evaluation seemed to have been correct… and probably far more so than she even realized.]

Scamall: [letting out a slow, pained sigh, forms tendrils of air—]

Spéir: (voice empty) "Scamall."

Scamall: [hesitates, eyes widening, before quickly looking over her shoulder at him]

Spéir: [by now, has gotten most of the way through setting up camp]

[Over their years of travelling through Talamhdé, going from plane to plane, they've collected tons of materials and even tricks to survive in the ever-changing lands. Both fae and humanity—the latter of which had never been aware of the siblings' true identities as faeries—had helped them, bartering for both information and resources.]

[Now, they have an immense amount of equipment—ranging from leather hides and blankets to lanterns and torches—that they've collected, and oftentimes even expanded upon with their own magics.]

[The camp has utilized much of that; it's comprised of a large tent made from hides, an as-of-yet-unlit campfire, and even a loose tarp Spéir was in the process of unravelling. Usually, they'd have a spit above the fire, food they'd hunted for cooking upon it, but, well…]

[… with all the ambrosia Scamall stole from Kilrey, the group had no need for food for quite a while.]

Spéir: [expression mostly empty, but… Scamall can make out hints of anger underlying it]

Spéir: (voice impassive) "are you sure you should be using so much essence?"

Scamall: [caught off-guard by his anger, but…]

Scamall: [face tightens, ears going back indignantly, and small flashes of light striking from the storm building in her hair]

Scamall: (stubbornly) "there's no reason not to. We have a ton of ambrosia."

Spéir: [face twitches, fury openly showing for a moment—]

Spéir: [but it quickly pinches in frustration instead, and he turns his head to look away irritably]

Spéir: (darkness underlying his voice) "… sure. Whatever."

Scamall: [really doesn't know how to take how weird Spéir's been acting, but… he accepted?] :'D

Scamall: [sighs, turning back to Nova. Still comfortingly cupping their cheek with the invisible hand, forms a separate tendril of air to carefully open their mouth. Finally, places the broken-off, smaller chunk of ambrosia in their mouth to let it dissolve on their tongue]

Scamall: and, if they choke, I can always clear their airway 😅

Conflict between the siblings... 😔

Hopefully it clears up soon! 😄

Still! What do you think of all the worldbuilding, and how faeries operate? :)

story intro table of contents chapter one < last part next part >