Nov 4, 2017
You know things are going oddly when 16K into the story you realize you need to rename the main character for plot reasons.
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You know things are going oddly when 16K into the story you realize you need to rename the main character for plot reasons.
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Everyone is working, on their way to work or thinking about work. I don’t even have to try to use my magic to feel that. This is a court of the fae, and it feels like I walked into bad Dickens fanfic that was pro-industrialist. I shiver a little, not meaning to.
“It is something I often think about. How much weaker I would be if I could do more than I can. It is a difficult concept to explain.”
I’ve never had a breeze hug me for reassurance before. I have no idea how to hug it back.
“Everyone has scraps of wisdom: I am just lucky to be old enough to make them into a quilt sometimes.”
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“You – all of us – could just be distractions to confuse others. If we’re more than that, it’s good, but perhaps we don’t need to be. You don’t get to be as old as Minou is by needing to rely on others, so we’re here but perhaps not needed?”
“That might be true for you,” I snap, “But I am the POV character of this story, which means I am the main character and clearly important.”
“And what have you done that’s important so far?” Druup demands.
“I added words. I must have done that. I – must have more purpose than that, surely?”
No one responds. I have at least 20,000 words to prove them wrong.
“Rumours are often the bastard children of lies at the best of times,” the fae snaps, eyes narrowing. “This is a Court of War, Kris. If it was falling apart, there would be war.”
“Not every war is in the open.”
“We’re not weak like the wild fae. War would be in the open. There would be battles, and blood and maybe even dead bodies if it went far enough. People fighting for freedom will do a lot of things, but they aren’t going to have some civil war.”
“They won’t, not even in the same fae Court?”
“War isn’t civil. Not the way we’d fight.”
“Oh.” There isn’t even a hint in Druup’s expression that the fae is making a joke. “You think a civil war is one where people are polite?”
“It’s in the name,” he says flatly. I am almost certain he isn’t joking at all in this.
“What happens now?”
“We wait for the fae to arrive outside, meet him and he takes you into the twilight kingdoms.”
“Which you haven’t told me anything about.”
“Most of our knowledge of the fae does not come from the courts. No human magician has been in one that we know of, and most of our knowledge of the fae is centuries old and might well get you killed. Ignorance is sometimes a virtue if the truths one has access to might all be lies.”