Fate - First Reply The Reaping

[Midir]

Somewhere...

The world moved so fast. Cities rose and fell, whole civilisations were lost and then new ones built atop the ashes of the old. People who were once figures of legends became forgotten or made a part of a patchwork quilt like story where the tellers butchered five separate lives and made it all the feats of one person. Deep in the fae wilds, the passage of time was an easy thing to forget. Their lives there were slower and their touches with the rest of the world so few that it was easy to forget it existed at all. It all seemed so insignificant in comparison. Yet sometimes... sometimes even the fae wondered if such thoughts were what kept their race held back.

Once, there used to be a castle here.

The memory surprised the Erlking and he looked once more at the low stonewall that had sparked it. It was barely worth a look to most and only came three bricks up off the floor. The new town that now stood here had incorporated it into a newer, larger wall, that was a part of some shops back garden. Once, Midir remembered, it had been a part of a wall that had fortified a castle. A wall that had seen blood spilt and men smashed against its face.

He wondered if the stones preferred their more humble life. It was a shame there was not a Speaker around to ask.

Brushing the thoughts of the past from his mind he forced himself to focus on the present. The small town he had found himself in was a buzz of activity as people got ready for the big Spring Festival it hosted every year, apparently. The few people he had spoken to reckoned it was a tradition that went back to the very founding of the town, but Midir knew it went back further. Nearly every population who had resided here had had some form of celebration for the Spring. With such rich, fertile fields and orchards full of fruit, this time of year was a reason to celebrate.

Midir was almost sad he had chosen this place for the Reaping.

One life would not affect him. It would be but another on a list too long for Chroniclers to bother with. But to someone here, or elsewhere in the world, that life would amount to their whole world.

Yes, he was almost sad. The knowledge that if he didn't do it it would plunge the world into a darkness it might not recover from kept guilt from eating at him. The fact he enjoyed it was another boon, of course.

 

[Igni Ymaranath Ythys]

The life of small country townspeople was a welcome reprieve from the hustle and bustle of the city. Igni had arrived early for the festival, to partake in simple human pleasures and distract herself from the burdens of governing an economic empire. Her company was in good hands at home, nevertheless her servants had been reluctant to see her off, partially because they no doubt thought knew they would be held responsible for any mistakes they made in her absence, partially because they worried for her, and partially because they would miss her.

And in truth, she missed them too.

Country folk like these led idyllic lives, yet they all seemed to find something to bicker about. A neighbour's morning ablutions. How the baker's wife did her hair. The way someone looked at someone. It was as if the women of the town were looking for ways to be miserable. A shame such trouble existed in their heads when they were surrounded by paradise.

She had gone for a walk to clear her head and find some better company when she spotted him, a fellow with near-white hair gleaming in the morning sunlight, a good head taller than the townsfolk around her. She stopped to stare, just as many others did to her her (though they stared because of her girth rather than her height). "Are you a traveller like me, here for the festival?" she said once he drew close.