Fable - Ask Nightmares or Memories?

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Raphael

Truth-Seeker
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Character Biography
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On the very edges of the Autumn Court where jungle gave way to the mountainous region most creatures called The Spine, a lone figure stood. Bathed in the silver moonlight cast by the twin moons that took pride of place in the velvet night sky the figure looked to be made almost entirely of shadow. A stark black outline against the snow crust rockface that seemed to glow with its own magical essence that could only truly be appreciated at night. Some might have even mistaken the figure for one of the ancient stone carvings that marked the different passage ways that would lead travellers from the Wilds to the more tame lands of the Allirian Reach. Either that or those who saw him did not really care to dwell too much on the thought of what a creature with dragon-like wings was doing staring out over the town below.

Like the stars above the houses glittered with firefly light that twinkled in and out of view as wind buffeted the flames. It was nestled in a horseshoe curve of cliffs that were sheer to climb and would eliminate most risks that might have sought to ambush the town from behind. On its other front was the wide lake which was the start of one of the rivers that would eventually flow into the web of water canals that made up the odd floating lands of Iuk-'u Delta. Outside of Laigin it was the largest city that belonged to the famous Autumn Court and dedicated almost entirely to the training of its elite warriors.

Raphael shifted his wings uneasily; not because of the chill in the air or the memories the city below stirred within his minds.

They were late.

The darkness around him slowly writhed with his growing worry, swirling about his feet and crawling over his wings like a sickly lovers caress. There was a reason the Erlking had sent the three of them to this place of Nightmares and memories and he doubted it was just to inspect how the training of the new recruits was going.

 
A dark, shape moved through the skies, blotting out the stars in swift bursts. As general over some of the Erlking’s most prestigious armies many knew who he was. He’d been working on a special assignment away from here but that was neither here nor there. Tonight he would see his brothers again and it had been at least a few weeks once they last spoke.

He was eager to see them even if he didnt trust why the Erlking put them together on something official.

“Raph,” his voice boomed with his wings as he landed easily next to his brother. Sid’s body looked carved from the surrounding wind and mountains. Shoulder-length hair shifted as he tucked his wings in tight. He could scent Ralph’s uneasiness.

What had the Erlking made him do since their last meeting? His jaw clenched. Muscles flexed. But an easy-going grin spread on his mouth. One that made many a high fae and lesser faeries flock to his bed.

“Where’s Lorcy-boy? Gods I’m starving. Hope he remembers it’s his turn to bring food.” Large arms crossed over his chest.
 
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Lórcan had been rather unceremoniously dragged from his bed, from the soft sheets and warm bodies of two females whose names he didn't think he'd even asked, though he planned on getting to know them a little better for a few more hours. Instead they'd been instructed to leave and his protests were shut down, and he was given his orders for the night.

By the time he dressed and flew to the meeting spot, he found both males already waiting for him. He chucked the sack of food from above toward Sid before landing to perch on a boulder nearby. His dark feathered wings spread wide in a stretch before tucking in, feathers trailing along the ground as he moved toward them. "Evening boys." he sparked a grin, running his hands back through his dishevelled hair before reaching to grab each of them in turn to drag them in for a brotherly embrace. It'd been some time since he'd seen them both, he only wished they'd had something a little more fun planned.

His smile faded and he let out a quiet huff as he looked down over the city below..
 
"You're always hu--" Raphael's gruff retort was cut short by the sack nearly hitting Sid in the side of his head. The childish, simple moment cut through his agitation and the oily darkness that seemed to cling to him vanished as he laughed. Lórcan's grin was met with his own smile and his hug was just a little tighter. Whilst the interrogator was used to being alone he didn't necessarily like it. He could feel himself detach more and more from the world every time he was in those cells, it was only because of the two men in front of him that kept him from falling over the edge of sanity.

He was going to need them more today than ever.

"Did we disturb you your highness?" His raised a sleek brow and folded his arms over his chest as he pointedly didn't look at the city that sprawled beneath them.
 
Sidereal caught the bag of food an inch before it could hit him in the side of the face. A large grin was on his face as he sniffed at the contents inside then embraced the prince back. Each already knowing to be careful of their sensitive wings. There was a meat and cheese sandwich.

"Ah hell, the good stuff. I've been living off camp rations for weeks." He took a large bite, dark brows on tan skin raising, a smirk winding its way on his mouth as he took another sniff around Lorcy.

"Smells like we disturbed him and a few others." The smirk remained on his face but a flash of concern shone in his hazel-golden eyes. He remembered when he brother hadn't been like that. Like him. Without fully turning away from the prince, he offered Raphael some food.
 
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The tension that eased almost instantly in the presence of the two fae was almost visible. To see them both safe and well was always a relief.

His dark eyes rolled as the taunts, giving Sid a shove as he sniffed at him. "Piss off with the Highness nonsense." he spat with a playful glare toward Raph. "But yes, you did if you must know.." he informed, lifting his chin with a wide grin. The concern in the General's eyes wasn't lost on him, he knew his brothers well enough to know when his behaviour sparked worry. Lòrcan cleared his throat and brushed it off with another smug wink as he stretched his arms above his head and groaned.

"So.. What, pray tell, have I been dragged here for?.." he snorted, his father's guard having told him nothing but to get up, get dressed, and get here.
 
Raphael hadn't missed the scents that clung to his friend either, nor the way he tried to brush it off as a casual thing not to worry about. He pressed his lips together but passed no further comment. Instead he took the offered food almost automatically and turned towards the view beneath them.

"Apparently just a review of how training is coming along, but I suspect it has something to do with the man I interrogated recently," he seemed unconscious of the way the oily darkness crept back up his legs as he began to talk of what it was the Erlking made him do. Nobody truly understood what the darkness that surrounded Midir's top interrogator were but those who were near were wisely scared. Some even claimed it was their own fears they saw in glimpses through the darkness. Raph knew less about it than they probably did, but having them worry and guess at the power inside it was a tool he used to keep many in line.

"There seems to be some... dissatisfaction among your captains," amber eyes flickered from the view to Sid. "A plot to try and take the army for themselves. I think the Erlking thought it might be a good idea to remind them who's in charge," his eyes roamed to Lorcan, "with a royal visit, and what or who will happen to them if they step out of line."
 
Sid swallowed the rest of the food down. “Ah fuk,” his golden-hazel gaze turned to the camps below. “I bet I know which ones. Closest to the Spine Ralph?”

Closest to winter.

Perhaps they thought they could take over another court. Pig-headed brutes some of ‘em. Brute. What a lot others in the autumn court called him and Raphael sometimes.

“I’ve been making my rounds at the camps. Murph and his crew haven’t been happy since the spring conflict.”

And that was over a hundred years ago. Fingers reached up, tying his hair back in a leather band. “If there’s that much unrest,” he looked to Raphael. “I don’t like bringing the prince down in the middle of it.”

The last thing they needed was an assassination attempt.
 
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Lòrcan's eyes darkened as he looked at Raph with a tired huff, his fingers raking back his hair and his shoulders rolling the tension from his muscles.. "Shit.." he muttered under his breath.

He couldn't help but snort at Sid's anxieties and his head shook. "No.. I need to be there." he sighed. "And some examples need to be made. Nothing other than that will keep my father happy. Well, unless I'm assassinated, of course." he smirked, but there was no mirth in his eyes.

Separately, the three were deadly. Together they were an absolute nightmare. Lòrcan took no joy in slaughtering people, took no pride in torturing them, and his father knew it well. It was a weakness he'd been hell bent on breaking for hundreds of years. He stared down darkly at the city below and knew there was no choice in the matter.

He cast his gaze heaven bound and let out a deep huff as he stepped up to the edge of the cliff and slowly let himself fall dramatically from its edge, his wings spreading out to catch the wind as he glided down toward the heart of the city to see what problems awaited them.
 
Raphael nodded sharply to Sid's guesswork; it would hardly be a surprise to any of the three gathered here after the last century. However, he didn't get to pass a comment on what he thought of the Prince joining them because Lòrcan summarised for him. As much as he too didn't want his friend in harms way, an assassination attempt was the least of their concern if the trouble went unchecked. The Erlking might have been cruel and cold but stupid he most certainly wasn't and he had deployed his three most feared weapons to combat the problem.

The interrogator merely shrugged at Sid as Lòrcan launched himself off the rockface then followed.

He speared down past Lòrcan before letting his wings snap open to glide towards the cities centre which was thrumming with activity despite the late hour. Soldier's camps rarely ever slept. When the group landed - Raph giving Lòrcan a very subtle smirk at beating him over his shoulder - they were met with the sight of a group of young males being put through rugged paces with spear and sword.

"Home sweet home," he murmured beneath his breath bitterly.
 
"Feels like I never left," Sid huffed as his booted feet hit the ground, wings tucking in tight. And he really hadn't. Being General had him visiting these war camps often. Keeping the Commanders and Captains in line. Supposedly keeping the men in line.

At least he wasn't being blamed for what Raph had found out.

Hell.

These dumbasses wanted a death wish if they thought revolution would work. At least. Not like this.

Some men turned at their arrival. The closest ones quickly froze and stood at attention. And Sidereal knew it wasn't just for him. It was for the prince. A spark of fear in some of their eyes. Perhaps foolishly not for Raphael. Or necessarily for Lorcan or Sid. But for the fae that commanded them all.

"Captain Misha. Go get him soldier," Sid barked an order at a lean-looking soldier with midnight skin and pointed ears. He could see the hesitation, even though he knew who they were. The hesitation came from Sid's heritage. Many considered the pukah lesser than the rest of the fae.
 
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Lòrcan's dark eyes rolled as Raph rushed passed him, his head shaking as he returned his brother's smirk upon landing. "Asshole.." he murmured at the pat on the shoulder. He was faster than most in the air, but his feathered wings couldn't compare to the smooth, membranous wings of brothers', which they enjoyed reminding him..

His black wings folded upon his back before dissolving into shadow and the Prince rolled his shoulders as he strode casually toward the training group. His eyes wandered over each and every face that peered at the trio before narrowing on the hesitating soldier that Sid had addressed.

"I suggest you move quicker than that." he growled darkly at the retreating male. He returned his gaze to those who had stopped their training to stare, his lips twitching. "Don't stop on our account.." he gestured and stepped forward, picking up one of the swords from the rack and surveying it as he sauntered into the muddy pit.

"Well?.. Been a while since I trained.." his brows quirked at the three soldiers who gaped at him. They looked amongst themselves uncertainly before the larger of the three moved around him, followed by another so that the three circled him.
 
Raphael's leather armour squeaked as he folded his arms over his chest and pretended to look indifferently over the soldier hesitating at Sid's order. This wasn't his field anymore. Many of the people here believed him not only lesser because of what he was but because he had been taken to work in the palace. A cushy job compared to the cold and harsh battleground of the army's city. All he had to do was look like an arrogant guard for the Prince who believed himself to be above the ones still left to deal with the life he had escaped.

If only they knew the hell he had been thrown into instead.

"This should be interesting," he chuckled when Lòrcan moved to pick up one of the swords. Unlike most trainees, the armies of Midir did not train with blunt or wooden weapons. Every cut and bruise earnt would remind you to be better or get rid of the weak. Clearly the recruits in front of them were weighing up the cost to them if they injured a Prince.

Raph moved to take a seat on one of the crudely made fences that ringed the arena and took out the sandwich he had been given earlier.

"Bets?" he glanced to Sid.
 
"Time to see if he listened to me about his shoulder dropping on his left," Sidereal muttered to Raph as he leaned against the fence his brother sat upon. "And if he's been keeping up with his training between bedding anyone with breasts."

An irritated harumph as he narrowed his eyes on the three that surrounded the prince.

"I almost feel bad for them." Fingers came to scratch at the light stubble along his chin. "I'd bet one lands a good shot on him before he trounces them all. You?"
 
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"I can hear you..." Lòrcan growled quietly at his brothers as he waited for one of the three males to strike. They were hesitant, understandably so, but he knew pride mattered more than consequence. The one at his back moved, his sword brought up high and aimed in a downward slash at his collar, but the Prince side-stepped and turned, steel clattering as he forced the soldier's blade down into the dirt and slammed his elbow into his cheekbone with a sickening crack.

As the first male fell, the other two came at once. Weapons clashed and the two rained blow after blow of their weapons down on him but he parried, letting them attack as he defended himself. The third soldier stumbled back to his feet and joined the fray with a little more venom and the three circled him once more. Lòrcan made the effort to look bored as they continued to swing and stab at him, but he'd continue defending until one could finally...

A grunt was the only sound he made as a blade bit into his side, scoring a deep slash around to his spine. He grimaced, feeling the hot blood spill from it and he looked up at the soldier who'd landed the blow who had paled several times over. Silence fell and the males all stared at him, confusion on their faces as he finally forced a grin. Finally.

Finally
he would strike back, finally he would end this spar with blood. The soldiers fell back into quick action as Lòrcan proved that he had in fact been keeping up with his training as he ran one soldier through the belly, another through his ribs and another through his thigh before pinning him to the dirt with a blade through the shoulder. It lasted seconds.

The healers rushed in, one already fussing at his wound as he made his way back to his brothers with a grumble. "I liked this fucking shirt."
 
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Raph opened his mouth to ask who Sid felt sorry for the most - the women Lórcan bedded or the soldiers - when the Prince growled that he could hear them. Instead he chuckled into his sandwich as he took a bite. Unlike Sid, he wasn't forced to make the most of the food out here. He might have been a dog for the Erlking but at least he was a well fed dog.

"Agreed. He does like to make a theatrical show of things," he sighed. Raph preferred directness; it always yielded better results showing a prisoner he would tear out their finger nails than just threatening it. Even still, it was nice to watch something that felt... normal. His childhood might have been bleaker than most but sparring with his brothers was some of the nicest memories he had.

"I'm sure one of your women will sew it up for you," he finished off his sandwich and hopped down from his seat, wings shifting.

"How about a real fight now?" He grinned and picked up one of the spears.
 
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While Sidereal was swagger and grins in most situations, in battle? On the training grounds? Commanding the forces of the Erlking? He was a deadly force.

There were times when he’d needed to blow off steam. When he’d sense his brothers needed the same. And they always went into the ring. Exchanged blows. Were there for the other. Growing up, when they were scrappy and young they’d hated each other. And enjoyed beating the shit out of each other. But that quickly changed. They’d formed a bonded trio against everyone else. And something that ran deeper than the ties of blood.

He pushed off the fence and selected a sword and shield from the rack. He circled his brother. “Maybe twinkle toes can join us once he’s healed.” Centering his weight, he nodded to Raph. “Sure that’s all you need, brother?”

He allowed himself a small, flickering shit-eating grin.
 
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"Fuck off.." he grunted at the pair, but there was amusement in his tone. The woman who healed him wouldn't meet his gaze as she pressed her hands to the wound, following it from his side around to his back, the flesh knitting together under her palm. "Thank you, Adeline.." he smirked, and she blinked in apparent shock that he had remembered her name. She had healed him in battle once before, a mute woman no doubt treated like utter shit by this lot. She dipped her chin awkwardly and scurried off to the next man to clutched his stomach to keep his guts in.

He'd been about to join his brothers amidst the circle of gathering soldiers when the Captain's presence was announced and he turned on his heels to let his gaze pierce the stuck up bastard. "Captain Misha.." he quirked a brow and gestured to the pit..

"Would you care to join us for a spar?.." he asked quietly, his lips twitching in dark amusement.
 
"I could do it without the spear, but I don't think your ego could recover from that humiliation," Raph drawled casually earning a snicker from some of the men watching. He would never make the mistake of thinking they were laughing with him though. No, these recruits had never seen him on the battlefield. He was just the Erlking's pet; good for nothing more than torturing men who were already bound. Sid might not have been liked by these men anymore than he but he imagined that he held a shred more of their respect.

Perhaps this fight would reverse that.

Raphael's amber gaze didn't so much as flicker to acknowledge the arrival of the Captain. Instead he shifted his stance from casual, feigned boredom and flew at Sid with a burst of unpredictable speed.
 
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He guffawed at his brother’s jab. But his hazel eyes remained focused. Face the painting of a warrior. He was aware of the Captain’s arrival. But he kept his focus on Raph.

He’d let himself get distracted once and paid for it. A valuable lesson learned when up against Raphael or Lorcan. A valuable lesson for all the wars he’s fought in. All the aerial battles. And the season when he’d been relegated to the ground troops.

He got his shield up in time. The spear slammed into his shield, the impact echoing down his arm. But he didn’t move. He half stepped inward going around the deadly tip of the spear and brought his awaits up and down in an attempt to break the shaft. Or get his brother’s skin in the process.
 
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The Captain's gaze fell on the healed wound at his side and a muscle in his jaw feathered as he looked passed the Prince to the two sparring behind him, the man didn't even bother to hide his sneer. Lórcan's head tilted and his throat cleared, urging the Captain to find his voice..

"Ah, I.." he dipped his chin, remembering formalities and stood straight again. "You summoned me, m'lord..To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?" he asked, ignoring the invitation to spar. Lórcan turned to stand shoulder to shoulder with the man and folded his arms across his chest as he watched his brothers with a grin..

"Ah the breeze brought some news of an unsettling nature, we thought we'd pay a visit, make sure everything is in order." he told the Captain casually, though the undertone to his words were dark with warning. "You'd report any issues of course, right, Misha?.." he asked without drawing his gaze from the spar.

"I'm certain I don't know what you're talking ab--" the man's words halted in his throat, as did his breath. His hands clawed at his throat as he tried and failed to drag the air back into his lungs, whilst Lórcan remained unperturbed as some of the men's attention drifted to their suffocating Captain.

"There's only cowardice in lies, Captain.." Lórcan grumbled, his tone one of boredom as he picked at his fingernails. The captain looked to his men, many of whom were wise enough to remain rooted in place, whilst one man more loyal to captain than king rushed toward him, his hand reaching for his sheathed blade.

"You'll be dead before you can draw that." he warned with a glance toward his brothers.
 
Raphael ripped the spear away before it could shattered and danced just out of Sid's reach so that he merely ripped a bit of his shirt and gave the slightest nick. He barely gave it a second thought though as he flared his wings and used them to push himself into the air so help him Sumersault over the top of his friend. When he landed he spun to try and drive the spear into Sid's back.

All the while he listened and watched Lórcan out the corner of his eye. There was no doubt that Sid was doing the same. Their display of fighting was not just a bit of fun between friends, it was as much a warning to punctuate Lórcan's words as his magic was.
 
A small smirk played on his mouth at his brother’s acrobatics. But he was fast. Wings tucked in tight even as he heard the choking sounds from the captain. The shift of moods from the fae who had gathered.

He twisted, the tip of the spear knocking across his rib cage, shredding his tunic. One of his favorite shirts, damnit. He let the shield slip free from his hand as he used that same hand to lash out, fingers going toward the shaft of the spear to suddenly yank it and his brother toward him with the tip of the sword waiting.
 
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The soldier did not halt his charge. He'd had fair warning, and as he released his grip on the air, allowing it to flood back into the captain's lungs, he lifted his hand instead. Shadows gathered on his palm and he whipped it at the man running toward him. Whilst in the air they seemed to solidify, forming a sharp disc that sliced clean through skin and flesh and bone before it dispersed into the air and ceased to exist, blood spraying in its wake.

The soldier's body thudded to the ground, followed by his head which rolled to the knees of the captain still clutching at his throat as he greedily dragged mouthfuls of air back into his starving lungs.

"Anyone else?" he asked sharply, those gathered shifting uncomfortably and taking a few steps back, their wide eyes shifting between the decapitated corpse and the unfazed prince. Their silence was their answer, and Lòrcan nodded, eyeing his brothers as he began pacing. Their 'spar', despite how playful it seemed, was a warning too. The men who watched knew fine well that they'd never stand a chance pitched against either of the winged males, and Lòrcan smirked at the effect it seemed to have.

"There's been some troubling talk!" Lòrcan started. "Unsettling stories that the King's soldiers seem to be forgetting who they fight for. We thought we'd check in and ensure that these stories are nothing more than heinous rumours.." he smiled charmingly and splayed his hands by his sides.

"Of course - if anyone here does seem to have a problem remembering, we can indeed assist in reminding you..." he offered and fell silent, but his patience was thin.
 
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Raphael knew full well that his friend was capable of looking after himself - the darkness he controlled was a beast in itself and something to be rightly feared. Yet even so he found himself watching out of the corner of his eye. It was a mistake to split his attention and it cost him dearly when Sid yanked him off his sure footing. He stumbled a step before recovering his senses but by that point he was already sailing towards his friend and the sharp point of his sword. With a curse, the Puca vanished and winnowed across the sparring arena.

Shadows pulled back in to his skin when he reappeared as if they were the things that had made him disappear in the first place and were loathe to return him.

"Smart," he conceded and stuck his fingers through the hole in his shirt in amusement. "Clearly I need a few catch-up sessions."
 
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