Kevin Curry
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Fae Chronicles 5
🕑 Added 2024-04-21 21:42:21 +0000 UTCAs Tanya had expected, the war had severely truncated the education of doctors to battlefield injuries and complications exclusively, and Visha was out the door and sent to the front just a bit past her sixteenth birthday. If Tanya was mortal, they'd be halfway through nine years old.
Well, they call it the front, but the battlefield hospitals were about two miles behind the current front, near as Tanya could tell from the chatter. Not out of range of artillery, but being deliberately targeted was a war crime. That didn't mean that they never got hit, but it was always 'an accident'. Sometimes it may even have been true.
It was, however, the perfect place for a peddler of miracles to get willing clients. “It looks like an ordinary wooden leg now, yes.” Tanya agreed, “But with a bit of faerie magic, it can be a fully functional prosthesis, with a full range of motion and sensations included.” The wooden leg was purchased with some money and brought to the hospital by mailing it to Visha, one at a time until she had a proper inventory of prosthetics. They demonstrated some magic by making it appear, at least to mortal senses, turn into a foot, still made of wood, with toes and making them wiggle.
The wounded soldier, who was to go home today, frowned. “...Why me? Why now?”
Tanya chuckled. “You’ve already been disqualified for further military service.” Tanya gestured to the “The war is no longer your concern. But what is your concern is your civilian life.” They tapped the prosthetic. “Having a new leg’s not going to do you much good if you’re just going to lose the other one, or worse. There’s no profit in that.”
The soldier thought over that answer, and nodded to himself. As usual, the true and rational answer was the best one to provide. “Okay, say I’m interested. How much?”
Tanya smiled. They did leave out the part where they had done a bit of research into her potential clients. This man was a volunteer. “Your family owns three houses on the outskirts of Wein. You have control over two.” Tanya pointed out. The soldier winced, but nodded. “I want one.” She clarified. “They’re both nice enough, so I don’t care which.” She added, softening the deal.
He thought deeply as to the offer. Personally, Tanya thought this was a rather hard bargain. On one hand, a single prosthetic leg is not exactly a necessity, and those houses represented passive income, a key generator of wealth. On the other hand, to someone who hasn’t adapted to life with one leg, or a normal wooden leg, the idea of not having to go through the adaptation phase would be incredibly tempting, as that phase would be rather daunting to consider. “...I’d need a few days to be able to sell you the house, give me time to think about it.” He eventually said.
“Shall we reconvene in one week, perhaps? Meet for tea?” Tanya proposed. At his nod, they brought out one of a set of invitations that she had printed and sent with the prosthetics shipment. “Fill out the time and date you wish for this conversation to continue, and then sign it.”
He looked at it, examined the card front and back, and seeing that it really was nothing more than an invitation to tea, followed her instructions and gave her the invitation. Tanya then signed it and gave it back. “There. I’ve RSVP’ed. I will now be able to magically travel to wherever you are at the appointed time for tea. Another bit of fairy magic.” They were actually obligated to do so, in fact. One of the upsides of being magically bound to any agreement one makes is that little things like space-time aren’t going to stop you from completing that agreement. “Make sure you’re prepared for a guest.” They put a bit of menace in that last warning, but as a mortal signing a non-magically binding agreement, Tanya couldn’t really do anything serious to him in punishment, they were too weak.
They hope he’ll see things their way.
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King Oberon’s castle was, as one would expect, grandiose and fantastical. Blatantly magical effects were scattered about, from the perpetual storm around one of the towers to the phantasmal shadow beasts that prowled the dungeons.
As a general rule, mundane objects could not be brought into Arcadia. They break down and dissolve when exposed to the differing laws of physics that ruled here. There was a magical way to preserve such objects, basically just painting over it in a protective coating of glamor. It was cheap, but only practical for small objects, for personal use. An outfit at most.
Glamor-preserved clothing from the mortal world wasn’t exactly a high-status way of garbing oneself… but unlike glamored outfits below the third tier of realism, they didn’t leave you naked to a fae’s senses: it actually exists. Even if it didn’t fix the problem of mortal fabric of all but the highest quality tending to itch their sensitive fey skin.
Their dealmaking over the last two year or so has been particularly fruitful: they managed to accumulate enough wealth to have a single outfit of glamor that could be felt on their skin: a fully modern business suit, of course, woven from gold and silver thread, the trim decorated in currency symbols from all over the world. The outfit included cufflinks that were cowrie shells, and the tie was patterned with coins. The shoes seemed to be solid gold and gleamed with an inner light, and the outfit’s magic even put their hair in a respectable bun, tied with a string of pearls. They accessorized with a cane, solid silver and capped with a heavy gold figurehead, in the shape of a bag of coins.
They usually didn’t wear it in the mortal world; it only gave them the income that treasures provided if they left it at home, and while it was definitely the kind of thing that fae will wear amongst each other… it was kind of gaudy to mortal sensibilities. They didn’t see the artistic merit in taking substandard materials and making something with a coherent theming and many small details to appreciate, but were instead blinded by the fact that it looked so expensive and clearly sized for a child and made unflattering inferences on the one who commissioned such a piece. But when going to the throne room of King Oberon? Of course they’d wear their finest suit.
By design, Fae society was positively medieval. If you wanted to do literally anything official and legal that wasn’t an internal matter of your noble house, you needed to travel to Avalon Castle when the King was holding court and get him to personally authorize whatever you needed done. When the King got tired of a specific bureaucratic necessity, he either automates it, like witnessing contracts, or creates a law that outlines how such a thing can be done, allowing Magistrates to execute the function, like scheduling non-internal parties and filing the guest lists.
This meant that the vast majority of the business in front of the King was in his role as Arbiter, hearing grievances and disputes and ruling appropriate restitution. Most other things before the King were things he had long automated… but most was not all. Matters that affected the mortal world were things he was loath to delegate, as mismanagement of matters under the Twilight Accords could affect him directly, which was not a vulnerability he wanted to pass to a potentially treacherous subordinate.
King Oberon was the very image of a King. He had long hair that cascaded down his chest to join his wizened beard, both a fiery red that occasionally ignited when he was angry. He wore just enough armor to warn any potential enemies of the protections he had as the Sovereign of All He Surveys, and his clothing was otherwise reflective of the decorations of the rest of the throne room, as if he was one with the room. As it was Spring, this meant flowers everywhere, pinks and purples and reds along with a brilliantly blue sky, as despite being indoors you could see the sky just fine if Oberon willed it so. Queen Lurue was seated beside the King, bored of the proceedings and whispering conspiratorially with one of her ladies in waiting.
Tanya didn’t like thinking uncharitably of King Oberon in his presence, in case the man could read minds like Being X could, but not for the first time they were reminded of how archetypical the King’s harem was. Titania was the fiery tsundere, Verenestra was the most maternal of the four, the big sister archetype, Mab was the shy weird one, and Lurue… was the little sister archetype. That wasn’t to say that she looked like a child, but she was short, petite, and cute rather than elegant and beautiful, or voluptuous and sexy, or mysterious and alluring, like her sister-wives. If this was an anime, there wouldn’t be any need for any additional harem members to appeal to a wide otaku audience.
“We have come to a decision.” King Oberon announced, breaking the silence that had overcome the throne room as he deliberated. “As both sides have valid grievances, this will be settled in a trial by combat.” He gestured, and a ring of light expanded the space surrounding the petitioners, which made them appear as if they had shrunk to the naked eye. “Begin.” He announced, and the battle between the Lord of Swooping Death and the Lord of Silent Claws began.
“Who do you think will win?” Asked Tanya’s neighbor. Tanya glanced at him. Generically handsome, dressed in silver chainmail armor, which he wore with a tabard depicting the heraldry of a wine bottle surrounded by grape vines. He bowed shallowly and introduced himself. “I’m the Lord of Gleaming Chains, House Vino.” His tone was as knightly as his appearance.
“Lady of Currency, House Argent. Charmed.” Tanya replied, barely polite. House Vino was one of the smaller fey houses, which meant that they were usually rather happy to have a social inferior, but the lesser ranks of fae tended to be polite enough to her regardless of house, and they didn’t recognize the title, so this must be more than one rank down the hierarchy from Duke. they’ve been working her way down the hierarchies when it came to memorizing names. “The Lord of Silent Claws, despite the name, is quite the skilled combatant even without the element of surprise,” Really, trial by combat with him was tantamount to ruling in his favor against most fae. “-while the Lord of Swooping Death is more of a leader than a fighter. In a duel, the Lord of Silent Claws has the advantage.” That said, this match was closer than most others would be.
The Lord of Swooping Death activated his Inheritance, which is the term used for one’s signature treasure no matter how it was acquired (and the only treasure one is allowed to use in a formal duel), the Cloak of the Blooded Flock. As per the name, it created a swarm of corvids, although Tanya wasn’t sure if they were ravens, crows, or something else. The Lord of Silent Claws was the bearer of the Girdle of Endless Night, which was used to conceal his position as well as the entirety of the battlefield. King Oberon’s will enabled everyone to see what was going on anyway.
“It’s over.” Tanya declared, a half second before the Lord of Swooping Death’s head got torn off and flung far away from his body. Hm, that was faster than they thought it would be.
“Good timing.” The Lord of Gleaming Chains replied. Tanya, as expected of a fay noble, pretended that they had guessed exactly correct.
“We rule in favor of the Lord of Silent Claws.” Proclaimed King Oberon. The battlefield snapped back to the previous volume, and the Lord of Swooping Death’s head was already back on his body. “Let it be known that the Lord of Swooping Death is a craven weakling unworthy to sniff the knickers of the Lady of Fury.” The woman in question laughed, walking over to the winner and dragging him off to presumably ravish him.
Tanya resisted the urge to sigh. Most trials that go before the King were about this petty. Arguments between two fae of differing houses that they didn’t want to escalate to their direct superiors, so they go to the King to get it settled just between them, without any greater political implications. Two men fighting over a girl was downright mundane.
King Oberon’s herald referenced his list. “The court calls on the Lady of Currency of House Argent! Present your business before the King!” This drew somewhat more interest among the peanut gallery than most matters. Few fey approached the King alone for anything.
The King… seemed more neutral instead of hostile. Was that a hint of curiosity? “Thank you for seeing me for this matter, your Majesty.” Tanya began, and the genuflection seemed to please the King. “I have some legal documents to file, specifically…” They brought out a sheaf of papers. “Deeds, declaring my ownership of several parcels of land in the mortal world.” They had spent pretty much all of their mortal funds picking up additional properties before coming here, so they could all get done at once. The Imperial government was very hesitant to sign over land to them, but they were quite willing to pay Tanya in gold in a series of ‘informal’ agreements to pass messages and certain high-value small objects long distances, and land prices tended to drop substantially in the middle of a war, even in areas that aren’t currently being shelled.
Murmurs erupted at Tanya’s declaration. King Oberon stroked his beard, leaning forward. With a gesture, the documents all flew from her hands and presented themselves at once, floating in the air. Subtly, Tanya used their command of the glamor coating the documents to tug them into groups, one for each property. King Oberon allowed it, and even strengthened their efforts, so they were quickly arranged appropriately.
King Oberon inspected each one, noting Tanya’s glamor and easily seeing beneath it to the true documents within. Seeing no discrepancy, he inspected the various government seals and notary stamps, using whatever superior perception he had to note their authenticity.
Tanya stayed at rest, hands behind their back as they did their best to conceal their nerves. Not having ‘real’ biology was quite useful in this, their nervousness was not betrayed by simple things such as sweat or an accelerated heartbeat. That didn’t mean fey didn’t have involuntary stress symptoms, fidgeting was the most blatant one, but it was a lot easier to keep them under control if one tried than it was for when they were a mortal.
Queen Lurue had stood up from her throne and sat on her husband’s lap to get a good view, easily doing so without obstructing the King’s eyes. “...How?” She asked in her high pitched voice, bewildered at the presentation.
Tanya cleared her throat. “One of my contracts allowed me a legal identity in the mortal world, which I used to acquire land using mortal contracts. As you can see, it is an effective method.”
The young Queen of Spring beamed, her smile literally brightening the room. “That’s clever! You’ll need to…” She snapped her fingers and retrieved some already-filed documents. “Yes, you’ve got it.” Tanya didn’t need to read it to recognize the magical signature of the document, that was the agreement Tanya had made with themselves to turn over all owned properties to House Argent. “Wait, this is a…” Another pair of documents appeared, the ones they made with the von Degurechaffs. “-yes, that works.” That was a tricky bit of contract, but they threaded the needle. It worked in Arcadian courts, which was all that mattered.
“Everything appears to be in order.” The King announced. “Do you swear upon your life and house that all of these documents are, to the best of your knowledge and most diligent investigation, lawfully acquired without coercion or deception?” His voice boomed throughout his throne room, his authority’s full weight bearing upon Tanya. The severity of his tone caused many of the onlookers to cry out in pain.
The words reverberated around Tanya, shaking their bones and stabbing their soul as the sound hunted for the barest hint of guile. It found none. “I swear.” Tanya announced, which redoubled the weight and noise. “I swear that every single deed before you has been knowingly sold to myself without masking my nature, that they were purchased from the lawful owner, for a price that was deemed fair to both parties. I swear this upon my life and house.”
The silence was thick, the gaze of King Oberon heavy upon Tanya as the magical oath wrote itself on their soul. After an eternal moment, the weight lifted. “So mote it be.” King Oberon declared. The documents all shined with light and vanished, filing themselves in the official records. “Let the realm recognize the achievements of Duchess Titania Argent of the Restful Shroud, Sovereign of the Twilight Crossroads, the Lady of Currency.” Hey, he renamed their demesne, this is excellent.
There was a shocked silence before the various assembled fey all cheered, as instructed. That was… surprisingly enthusiastic actually. It was almost as if they were sincere… Tanya smiled, blinking out tears as the crowd roared in approval. They almost spent glamor to hide the disgraceful display of emotion, but stopped as it would fool no one here.
Trying to think of anything else, Tanya now had the chance to regret not spending glamor on crafting a treasure that was greater than that damned baby blanket. Sure, they could use it in duels now, and a pseudo-net that hypnotized the one it was wrapped around with a pleasant hallucination wasn’t exactly useless, and it was, strictly speaking, a step up from ‘nothing’, but… it was too weak. But, then again, anything they could create to replace it would be just as weak. Ah, that stopped the water works.
Still, Tanya could feel the increased inflow of magical resources from their new territory. It still needed work to properly optimize that income, but now that it was magically theirs as well as legally, they could get started on that step.
When the cheers died down, King Oberon dismissed Tanya with a gesture, and they left immediately after a quick but respectful bow. Right outside the throne room, Tanya spotted the Lady of Owls in their peripheral vision. Uh oh. Before the other Duchess could ensnare Tanya with societal convention, Tanya fell into their shadow, invoking the first pact that came to mind. Did they spot a theoretically equal member of the peerage approaching for a conversation? Nope, certainly not. No eye contact, it doesn’t count. It’ll take at least a day for them to conduct a plan, compose an invitation, and send a messenger to drop off said invitation in their lands.
“Tanya?” Visha asked, confused as she ate terrible army rations. Apparently they had ducked into the mess hall of the mobile hospital or whatever they call it. “Why are you dressed like that?” Her eyes narrowed as she inspected Tanya’s face. “...Have you been crying?”
Ah, they were still wearing the gold and silver suit. “No.” She lied, “I was conducting some business, and needed my finest suit.” A single mote of glamor concealed any remnant of tears.
Several of the soldiers around had gone into something of a panic, and the ones who still had their rifles, presumably some kind of guard detail, were pointing them at Tanya. “Identify yourself!” One of them shouted.
“Ah, I’m just a humble fairy, Sergeant.” Tanya replied, “I apologize for any minor offense I may have caused, I took a wrong turn and exited the wrong shadow.”
Visha turned around and picked Tanya up, placing them on her lap and hugging the fey protectively. “She’s with me.” She declared, glaring at the gun-toting soldiers.
The soldiers immediately put their guns back at rest. “Whatever you say, doc.” The one that didn’t talk before said. Ah, naturally the soldiers would want to avoid antagonizing the medical professionals, no matter how truncated her education was. Even better, Tanya felt the minor obligation that their apology incurred dissipate as they forgave Tanya’s trespass at Visha’s urging.
Tanya hummed. “Have you been transferred, Visha? I would think that rumors of my presence would have spread around by now.”
“Ah, yes.” Visha replied, “I still have all of the materials for your magical prosthetics, don’t worry.” She said that louder than she needed, which drew some interest, if Tanya was reading the room right.
“Excellent.” Tanya said, matching Visha’s volume. “They’re very expensive, you know.” Which was true from a certain point of view, specifically, the one where one considers how much people have historically paid for them as their price. Even wooden limbs weren’t exactly cheap, as they didn’t buy low-quality pegs or hooks, but ‘very expensive’ they weren’t, not like the metal or ivory varieties available. “Still, unless you have some maimed patients that could use my products, I really should be going. Lots of work to do.”
“Can’t you stay for lunch?” Visha asked. Tanya looked up at her face, seeing the longing in her gaze. Ah, she supposes that she has been neglecting Visha a bit, when one was surrounded by death and the dying like she was, any reminder of home would be welcome. Even if the reminder was only fond because of Stockholm syndrome.
“I suppose it can wait.” Tanya allowed, teleporting to the other side of the table and bringing out some of the bounty of their new lands, specifically some strawberries that were in season. “Here, have some. No one wants scurvy.”
As Visha ate, one of the other doctors looked at her, concerned. “Uh… isn’t it a really bad idea to accept food from the fair folk?” He looked at Tanya skeptically.
“That ship has sailed.” Visha replied with her mouth full of strawberries. Swallowing, she added: “I can’t get in any more debt than I already am.”
Tanya nodded. “It’s true, feeding Visha is not, strictly speaking, my responsibility, but it is in my interests to ensure that she is fed and healthy.” After a moment, they added: “Also, while that’s good advice, things are a bit more nuanced than that.” There were three ways accepting food could be dangerous: first there was the customs of hospitality, that involved food and could cause problems, then there was general favor/debt trading, and then there was the inherently addictive properties of Arcadian food. In this case, the second was the reason not to accept food. Tanya held up one of the strawberries. “This is mortal food, so it’s safe to eat.” They handed him one. “This is a gift, no debt or obligation is incurred.” Tanya waved their hand at it. “Completely safe.”
The doctor had a poleaxed expression at Tanya’s words. Tanya giggled, finding his paranoia hilarious. Tanya watched him as they ate more of the delicious strawberries.
Visha nudged him. “It’s safe, Leon. She said so. They can’t lie to you about fairy law.” Technically wrong, but in practical terms accurate.
Tanya continued to eat more strawberries, and after six more went down their throat the doctor finally ate the singular strawberry they had gifted him. “...It’s a strawberry.” He deadpanned.
“Yes.” Tanya agreed. “A completely ordinary strawberry.” They tilted their head questioningly. “What did you think it would taste like?”
Leon sputtered, and Tanya laughed again at his ridiculous expression. “What is with that suit, anyway?” The doctor asked, emboldened by Tanya’s schmoozing.
“This is my finest suit.” Tanya reiterated, “One must always dress their best when going to court.”
“Tanya almost always dresses in suits.” Visha added, “She says it makes her look business-y.”
“I did not say that.” Tanya retorted, a light smile on their face. “I am a businessfae, and I must dress the part.”
“By dressing in gold and silver?” Leon asked.
“By dressing in the gaudiest, most blatantly magical suits I can manage.” Tanya replied, “This isn’t made of gold, It’s made of raw magic, far more valuable than any mortal metal.” Tanya patted their suit. “It’s quite comfortable, too.” Tanya had feared that they had gotten too used to going around basically naked, but the suit was more comfortable than any they had worn in their first life. They smiled mischievously. “The powerful do not obey fashion, fashion follows the powerful. I am powerful, therefore I dress like your opinion on it doesn’t matter. Because it doesn’t.” Tanya popped another strawberry in their mouth. Delicious.
Visha quickly changed the subject, instead talking about an interesting patient the other day, which quickly distracted the doctor. Tanya listened and made sounds of interest for a few stories, but slipped away when someone came in the mess hall calling for the doctors to get moving, as a truck full of wounded had shown up.
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The properties that Tanya had acquired had a wide variety of uses, but the most important one was that most of them had businesses and residents inhabiting them.
Tanya had created a corporate entity to manage most of their properties, and filed a contract with that entity that directed to Tanya all non-material assets that they were entitled to, in return for monetary remuneration to be determined within thirty days of the transfer, at the mutual agreement of the shareholders and House Argent. As long as they completely controlled the company, they had no obligation to pay anything for them.
That corporate entity then renegotiated, with Tanya as the lawyer, all of the rental agreements, as few of them had long-term agreements that couldn’t be renegotiated within the month. They spent quite a bit of time studying the legalities of this over the months they were accumulating that wealth, and it was a simple matter to draw up new contracts. They were… significantly more generous than the previous agreements in most cases, providing options for rent to be partially and in some cases fully paid with more esoteric payment methods, like dreams and magic. The act of entitling Argent Properties to those things invoked the magical agreement that Tanya had made with the company, permitting the transfer without direct record being made of the transaction in the archives of Avalon Castle.
Why was Tanya able to be so generous? Well…
“I see you’ve decided to create your own quarters.” Tanya said approvingly. “Good initiative. I hope to see that kind of attention to detail when you are maintaining my properties.”
“Yes sir!” Said the largest and burliest of their new employees. While theoretically fae were all unique entities, in practice there were various kinds that groups gravitated to, presumably out of a sense of belonging and shared values. “We made sure to keep your Pillar clear, but the other five are perfect for some dwellings. Don’t worry, we’re professionals, the trees will be fine.”
“I’ve heard many good things about your work, I’m sure you won’t disappoint.” Tanya replied, smiling. “I must admit when the Lord of Flashing Knives mentioned that he had brownies that were petitioning him for further duties, I didn’t expect him to cut you completely loose,” Well, his exact words were that he had too many annoying leeches that he was sick of trying to find projects for, so the more surprising part was “-nor did I expect just how many of you there was.” Specifically, Tanya now had three hundred brownies as subordinates that they now had to feed, who had converted two of the office building-sized trees into apartments. They could barely afford it, but hopefully they’ll be able to increase that income even more than before.
“Look, I’m not going to badmouth House Lantern.” The brownie foreman said, before doing just that, “But if we weren’t cut loose one way, it would have been another, capisce? Only half of us left, and they’re still gonna moan about being bored.”
“I don’t think I have enough work for all of you, but I plan to expand operations, so find an equitable work schedule for building maintenance, and I’ll see what I can do about getting you all a nice warehouse that I can turn into a place for you all to make toys or whatever you want to do with your free time.” Tanya could understand the appeal of wanting to be productive, so they were happy to find profitable things for them to do.
“Really?” The brownie asked, excited. “You mean like the guys at Polaris Citadel?” Tanya stared at the foreman, confused. “What, haven’t you ever heard about the Lord of Holiday Cheer?”
Wait… “Santa?” Tanya asked, tilting their head. Was he a fey?
“Yeah! He’s the most generous Noble Faerie in Arcadia! Prince of the winter court.” Tanya’s eyes widened. There was a prince? They thought that King Oberon didn’t claim any heirs… “He’s got a Citadel where a thousand brownies get to make toys all year, then he goes and distributes them to mortal children once a year. He got a special exemption in the Twilight Accords, due to being the only fey to be ever declared a Saint.”
Wait… Tanya thought back to those Christmases with the von Degurechaffs. They just bought those toys, right? They supposed they just assumed so without confirming that assumption. How foolish to assume that Santa wasn’t real. It was a different world, and magical creatures were confirmed to exist. What else was real? There couldn’t possibly be a tooth fairy… right? “...I was thinking more of having your work go into a toy store rather than charity, but yes, like the brownies in the Polaris Citadel.” Tanya eventually said. “Give me a few months to arrange the logistics.” After a moment, they added: “Although if I am dissatisfied with your work in the meantime, I may decide to change my plans.”
The foreman laughed. “Don’t you worry, all your places will be the finest dwellings anyone could hope for. They’ll be begging to live in your lands, just you watch.”
“I’ll leave you to it, then. The rent agreement of a restaurant expires in a week, so I can finally renegotiate it.” About seven of their properties required a wait time where they were bound to the original rental agreement, so they still had work to do.
But the future was looking up.
