A Cruel and Burning Ice, Page 3

  Chapter 3 – Difficult Farewells...

  The Fay put nothing together more quickly than a party. Meat-pies and fruits, candies and cakes, ales and wines appeared summoned from thin air. Every Fay was present, and the common worktable crowded with silver-haired artisans and crafters. Goblets were raised in toasts. Throats cleared, and the Fay joined together in the high melody famous of their songs.

  First silence, then sing

  Of three sisters fair,

  The cherished Kahl Queens,

  The second sun's glare.

  First silence, then cry,

  Of envious queens,

  Of starlight twinkle,

  Of moon-whispered dreams.

  Scorn Kahl-Queen Leah,

  And scorn Kahl-Queen Shea,

  Maidens of man's kings,

  So cruel against Fay.

  Weep soft for Aura,

  Who mankind forgot,

  Her Kahl crown stolen,

  And darkness begot.

  The Fay momentarily paused their song to wipe a sleeve across their eye, or to distract their thoughts in long pulls of wine. Yet they kept a silent beat, and none of their voices missed their cue to join in the unfolding tune.

  On Kahl-Leah's head

  Shone the bright sun crown,

  Warmth for the forest,

  Field, furrow and town.

  Scores of stars twinkled,

  Along Kahl-Shea's crown,

  Dreams for the sleepers,

  Unknown and renowned.

  A queen for the stars,

  A queen for the sun,

  Queens both still thirsting,

  Silver light finer spun.

  The Fay inhaled a collective breath, and their voices raised as the notes ascended. Tinker Kohl's boots joined in with the Fay's, and the workshop shook in the song's beat.

  On Kahl-Aura's head,

  The brightest of gems,

  Her crown of moonbeams,

  The envy of her kin.

  The moon held magic

  To sway Fay and Man.

  Aura cast whispers,

  Reshaping the land.

  The Fay built temples

  For the night moon's Kahl,

  Whose muse gave knowledge

  Of fire, iron and wall.

  Mankind loved Aura,

  To Aura man prayed,

  For tools and talents

  Of a new world's trade.

  Wood creaked and groaned as Fay leapt from of their seats onto the common worktable, kicking aside plates of crackers and cheeses, upturning steaming bowls of duck soup. Their eyes blazed, and their hands clenched into fists that rocked with the tempo.

  Kahls Leah and Shea

  Resented the moon

  Her magic, her light,

  Her music, her tune.

  Thus Kahls conspired

  In shadows of night

  To take Aura's crown,

  To plunder through might.

  So twisted the sword,

  So cruel the knife,

  Used Shea and Leah,

  To steal Aura's life.

  Now wail and bemoan

  That terrible night

  The great Maker sent

  In lieu of the light.

  The high voices of the Fay shifted lower, their harmony morphing into a pack snarl.

  On two sisters' hands

  Stained merciless blood,

  Proof of their murder

  Unhidden by glove.

  Long banished was Shea

  From her sky of stars,

  Fractured her crown,

  Bits scattered afar.

  Instead Shea must lift

  Into Leah's sky,

  Burn with her sister,

  To Languish and sigh.

  Fay grasped each other's hands as their voices returned to a higher pitch. The tinker's eyes watered to hear their song, and all the aches and hurts that gnawed at his bones subsided as the Fay's song drifted to its end.

  Now two sisters burn

  In one crowded sky,

  Heated with envy,

  Our low world cries.

  Scorned is the magic

  Crafted by Fay,

  Victims of Kahl Queens,

  No home for their stay.

  Low is the tinker,

  While high is the king,

  Low are the makers,

  No stars for their dreams.

  Our kingdoms all melt,

  Subjects, we suffer

  For two Kahl Queens,

  and their awful murder.

  The tinker and the Fay bowed their heads and observed a momentary silence before Mad Phillip cleared his throat.

  "We would like to ask you something, Tinker Kohl."

  Markus watched the Fay stand behind Phillip, and he read in their faces how earnest all of the silver-haired Fay felt the occasion to be.

  "Anything, Phillip."

  "Come with us, Tinker Kohl," spoke Mad Phillip. "Come and see all the wonders of our underground towns. See for yourself our towers of subterranean crystals. Look with your own eyes upon our works which gleam beneath a phosphorescent light like none other found on the surface. Come with us and be cool while your world of men and kings swelters in the Envy Burn's heat. Come with us, and we will build such incredible things."

  Markus Kohl's eyes filled with tears. He had not believed his heart could feel any heavier than it had that day he lost his Violet. But his heart grew heavier as he looked into the faces of his Fay friends.

  "I cannot," Markus sighed. "I am born of man, and so I must remain with man."

  "But boss-man," Mad Phillip stammered. "Your kind regards you with such ill."

  Suddenly, Markus felt all the aches in his bones. He felt those slivers of pain gnawing on his guts, felt his head swoon and was reminded that he did not have the years remaining to share so much with his Fay. He would not bring hurt to his friends by dragging his suffering into their underground worlds.

  Markus called upon his pain and twisted his face into a terrible sneer.

  "I said I cannot!" Markus growled.

  The Fay cast their eyes downward. Markus nearly collapsed to see their slim shoulders fall.

  "You heard the tinker," Mad Phillip bellowed. "Back to work!"

  The Fay quickly focussed upon the final tasks their ice queen desired, retouching the contours of her flowing gown, reshaping the way her silver hair flowed in that unseen and invisible wind. They had only a few hours more before they would have to present their last creation to mankind's king before retreating into their cool, subterranean world. They cared little for mankind's kings, but the Fay thought the most of the village's low tinker.

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