The Mirror Hall
Rabu & Cervantez
And so, among the wild yellow feyfolk, Rabu and Cervantez found themselves focused on very different things.
Rabu tried his little Tunawa best to present the bell to the Lothar. To show it and have it rung, for he was only a small thing in his fairy size with wings but not enough strength in his arms to manage such a feat alone.
Fairies in every yellow hue imaginable danced and flitted about: egg yolk and lemon and saffron and flax grass and ochre and heavy cream and maize corn and sunlight through a topaz stone and crushed mustard seeds and citrus fruits and rinds of Ymiden melons and Saun flower petals.
Such colors, every possible pigment of yellow represented in the gentle glow of the fey skin that wasn’t the same texture as ordinary mortal skin for it seemed to pulse with the very colors that could be seen. In the wide, round and glossy eyes that reflected the world with shimmered light. In the straight and wavy and curly hair adorned in all sorts of fashions of braids, buns, loosely flowing or bound up in ribbons and twine, decorated with tiny leaves and flowers.
The citizens of the Yellow province took to the removal of blue and red decorations with enthusiastic vigor.
“Stop Dat!” Rabu protested this display.
Only a few paused to look at him, their inhuman eyes blinking and slender bodies swayed as they flew about. A couple drew closer, and tugged at Rabu’s ears when he explained that they were the last. They giggled when Rabu shook a finger at them.
“The last?” asked one.
“The last, the bunny mortal says!” replied the other.
“Disappeared?” asked a third who flew above Rabu.
“Bells do not make us disappear,” said a fourth fairy who looked around and added, “Do they?”
The first three fairies shrugged back at the fourth.
Yah appeared within a trill. That got more of the fairies attention. They turned about. Odd noises rose from the feyfolk, like the chatter of birds in the early morning. Fairy-talk, it seemed, that the mortals could not understand. Yellow flowers bloomed from nowhere, drifting through the air. Pollen spores filling the space around them and rich scents of citrus and grasses filled the severed mirror realm of the faux Great Hall.
For Rabu and Cervantez were not in the true Great Hall, but in a small slivered reflection within the fracture itself. A mere echo of the true location, one that existed within the crystal bell.
Cervantez had presumed correctly, for these fairies were at odds with the other fairies. Perhaps that was why they had gotten into the mirror realm as well. A travel through the door gone wrong, an unexpected element that the Yellow rebels were still unaware of.
A line of fairies took to the visitors now with their little slingshots and arrows trained onto them, their wide eyes narrowed with a moment’s suspicion.
A fairy with flaxen hair, on the back of a bumblebee, held a wooden twig like a stave in her hand. She pointed at them and accused, “Mortals who have sided with the King and Queen? Every Court, always the same, the same nobility, the same… not this time! We need not have rulers to defeat the demons.” She spat on the ground… though fey spit was quite different than mortal saliva as it glittered gold and landed, then hardened into a small pebble of glistened mineral.
The Lothar demanded to speak with the golden fairy. The other fairies all glanced at each other back and forth, then looked to the bumblebee rider.
She flew in front of Cervantez’ face, uncaring and courageous in front of the flames in his eyes, and she said, “That Yellow is no more! I am the new Yellow! And I shall see fit that this Court brings about the freedom of my people, mortal allies or not!”
The new Yellow raised her stave to much cheers from the other fairies who flew about in a whirlwind of bright and vivid color.
And yet…
…While the little fairy confronted Cervantez, Yah’s ring of the bell resounded through the echo of the split Great Hall.
It rang and rang as if Yah had rang it a thousand and one times.
The whirlwind became so brilliant of light that neither Cervantez nor Rabu could see anything else but the vibrant hue of yellow all around them and…
Meanwhile, in the true Great Hall, Thysbae and Kisaik gathered their respective composure and tried to explain to the two red soldiers the situation at hand.
“Early? But you rang the bell,” said one of the commanders. He brought his cardinal mount to land lightly on Thysbae’s shoulder.
“Problem?” barked the other commander who kept his bird in a hovered flight. “What sort of problem?”
Bae explained what he meant, about a vague mishap and being in charge of the bunnies. The fairy that’d perched the mounted bird on Bae’s shoulder made a quiet hum, a thoughtful sound that echoed in his red-metal helm. Then the confusion as to the whereabouts of others and Bae seemed all smiles even though the mortalborn felt far from happy.
Bae offered for the red feyfolk to settle in and wait for things to get sorted out. An apology and then finally, a question about what was supposed to happen if everyone was present, which received a curt non-answer.
“That’s classified information,” answered the soldier across from them.
The commander that remained on Bae’s shoulder muttered, “Not this, can tell you that much, mort.”
Kisaik took control of the situation then, with further explanation that they’d been invited by Purple. That got a few of the otherwise trained forward heads of the lined up soldiers to look toward him. Behind the shadows of their helms, ruby and scarlet lights glinted.
“You two are allies of Queen Cerulean?” inquired the commander. He flew closer to the Tunawa couple and examined them with beady red eyes. Whether this was good or bad, it seemed impossible to discern. “Hostile party?” He glanced around the area, then said, “Well, I don’t see anyone else here unless they’re hiding.”
The commanders both nodded at the rest of it; the ringing of the bell and the pedestal. They didn’t appear the slightest bit surprised by this.
Rabu sidled a little closer to Kisaik and made a tiny noise of uncertainty.
“A crack?” asked the Commander and he flew about. He tossed a look to the line of soldiers and they all hurriedly moved their gazes forward instead of staring at the Tunawa. “A crack in the… bell? That sounds slightly off to me.”
The fairy shook his head, landed his cardinal bird next to the bell, and dismounted.
“That can’t be good,” murmured the commander from Bae’s shoulder.
“No, it most certainly is not,” answered the other soldier. He leaned closer to look at the fissure in the crystal that was taller than his fey height.
“ₐ ᵩᵤₑₛₜ?” asked the betrothed next to Kisaik and Rabu grinned.
“Wait a moment... where is that light coming from?”
It was the last thing the soldier said.
Rays of what appeared to be sunlight shimmered and broke out from the jagged crevice in the bell. The beams glittered, brightened, expanded and blinded all within the Great Hall.
Light filled the Great Hall from tree wall to tree wall.
Yellow, then red, then white.
Rabu found himself blinded.
Cervantez found himself blinded.
Thysbae found himself blinded.
Kisaik found himself blinded.
All four found themselves completely blinded, but they could hear and smell and feel.
To Rabu, he heard the running of feet against hard ground. Hundreds of tiny feet, pattered over what soon sounded like a forest. Scents of soil in the fertile time of the seasons, just waiting to be planted, surrounded him. A gentle Ymiden-like breeze graced over him.
To Cervantez, he heard the clatter of bones piled over bones. Hundreds of skeletons, dumped into a pit over each other to be wasted away. Scents of rotted meat and burnt flesh, of beasts and mortals alike, surrounded him. A harsh Cylus-like wind whipped around him.
To Thysbae, he heard the murmur of voices in hushed conversation. Hundreds of voices, all types in low drones over each other in constant chatter. Scents of a marketplace in midtrial, with all the sweat and odd tang of food mixed with material wares and rich spices lined up next to one another in open air. A sweltering Saun-like heat bore over his body.
To Kisaik, he heard the calls of birds. Hundreds of birds, trills and squawks and chirps through thickets of nature. Scents of sap and smoke intermingled, the quiet bubble of something brewing combined with the unique smells. Leaves fell against him, brushed against his form, in a Vhalar-like dance as they drifted downward.
And then…
Slowly…
Their vision returned.
Kisaik found himself beside Rabu… and Rabu. Two Rabus, identical in every way. At his feet, the bell had shattered into a million tiny glass pieces.
Rabu found himself beside Kisaik… but Rabu could not remember he was Rabu. For when Yah had come to ring the bell in the mirror dimension, merging the split realm back to the true one, it had also placed a curse upon him. This curse resulted in Rabu no longer remembering his name. He would not remember either, not even when reminded of it. He would remember Kisaik, but when put to the test or referenced as Rabu, he would not realize that such a name was himself.
Cervantez found himself seated on the ground, not too far away, with the sickly burning scent of cooked flesh still stuck in his nostrils. He was surrounded by bunnies who twitched their little bunny noses at him.
Thysbae found himself across the room, in the corner where shadows danced across the space. The fairy soldier on his shoulder had disappeared.
In fact, all of the fairies seemed to have disappeared. For the first few trills of their vision blinking back into existence, they still had white light around the corners and the glow had to fade first before they could truly see the Great Hall like before. What was glowing light around their eyes faded into butterflies formed from the warm mixture of colors that flocked through the Great Hall in calm flight.
But as the four got their bearings, they realized that the fairies were still there.
The fairies had… changed, however.
No longer red.
No longer yellow.
A great swath of hundreds of fairies now laid against the ground, in deep slumber, and all bearing vivid orange colors instead. Their clothing mixed between the wild shaman and ranger clothing of the Yellow province and the prudent armor of the Scarlet Kingdom, but the colors were of pumpkin and turmeric and peach and vermilion and tangerine and carrot and butterscotch and the insides of melons and the brilliant gem of jasper and the flicker of a candle’s flame.
The fairies slept soundly. The hall seemed quiet, almost as if night had fallen. The shadows grew from the corners, encroaching toward the center of the Great Hall where Kisaik stood with the shattered bell at his feet and the two Rabus.
Rabu tried his little Tunawa best to present the bell to the Lothar. To show it and have it rung, for he was only a small thing in his fairy size with wings but not enough strength in his arms to manage such a feat alone.
Fairies in every yellow hue imaginable danced and flitted about: egg yolk and lemon and saffron and flax grass and ochre and heavy cream and maize corn and sunlight through a topaz stone and crushed mustard seeds and citrus fruits and rinds of Ymiden melons and Saun flower petals.
Such colors, every possible pigment of yellow represented in the gentle glow of the fey skin that wasn’t the same texture as ordinary mortal skin for it seemed to pulse with the very colors that could be seen. In the wide, round and glossy eyes that reflected the world with shimmered light. In the straight and wavy and curly hair adorned in all sorts of fashions of braids, buns, loosely flowing or bound up in ribbons and twine, decorated with tiny leaves and flowers.
The citizens of the Yellow province took to the removal of blue and red decorations with enthusiastic vigor.
“Stop Dat!” Rabu protested this display.
Only a few paused to look at him, their inhuman eyes blinking and slender bodies swayed as they flew about. A couple drew closer, and tugged at Rabu’s ears when he explained that they were the last. They giggled when Rabu shook a finger at them.
“The last?” asked one.
“The last, the bunny mortal says!” replied the other.
“Disappeared?” asked a third who flew above Rabu.
“Bells do not make us disappear,” said a fourth fairy who looked around and added, “Do they?”
The first three fairies shrugged back at the fourth.
Yah appeared within a trill. That got more of the fairies attention. They turned about. Odd noises rose from the feyfolk, like the chatter of birds in the early morning. Fairy-talk, it seemed, that the mortals could not understand. Yellow flowers bloomed from nowhere, drifting through the air. Pollen spores filling the space around them and rich scents of citrus and grasses filled the severed mirror realm of the faux Great Hall.
For Rabu and Cervantez were not in the true Great Hall, but in a small slivered reflection within the fracture itself. A mere echo of the true location, one that existed within the crystal bell.
Cervantez had presumed correctly, for these fairies were at odds with the other fairies. Perhaps that was why they had gotten into the mirror realm as well. A travel through the door gone wrong, an unexpected element that the Yellow rebels were still unaware of.
A line of fairies took to the visitors now with their little slingshots and arrows trained onto them, their wide eyes narrowed with a moment’s suspicion.
A fairy with flaxen hair, on the back of a bumblebee, held a wooden twig like a stave in her hand. She pointed at them and accused, “Mortals who have sided with the King and Queen? Every Court, always the same, the same nobility, the same… not this time! We need not have rulers to defeat the demons.” She spat on the ground… though fey spit was quite different than mortal saliva as it glittered gold and landed, then hardened into a small pebble of glistened mineral.
The Lothar demanded to speak with the golden fairy. The other fairies all glanced at each other back and forth, then looked to the bumblebee rider.
She flew in front of Cervantez’ face, uncaring and courageous in front of the flames in his eyes, and she said, “That Yellow is no more! I am the new Yellow! And I shall see fit that this Court brings about the freedom of my people, mortal allies or not!”
The new Yellow raised her stave to much cheers from the other fairies who flew about in a whirlwind of bright and vivid color.
And yet…
…While the little fairy confronted Cervantez, Yah’s ring of the bell resounded through the echo of the split Great Hall.
It rang and rang as if Yah had rang it a thousand and one times.
The whirlwind became so brilliant of light that neither Cervantez nor Rabu could see anything else but the vibrant hue of yellow all around them and…
…to be continued.
The Great Hall
Thysbae & Kisaik
Meanwhile, in the true Great Hall, Thysbae and Kisaik gathered their respective composure and tried to explain to the two red soldiers the situation at hand.
“Early? But you rang the bell,” said one of the commanders. He brought his cardinal mount to land lightly on Thysbae’s shoulder.
“Problem?” barked the other commander who kept his bird in a hovered flight. “What sort of problem?”
Bae explained what he meant, about a vague mishap and being in charge of the bunnies. The fairy that’d perched the mounted bird on Bae’s shoulder made a quiet hum, a thoughtful sound that echoed in his red-metal helm. Then the confusion as to the whereabouts of others and Bae seemed all smiles even though the mortalborn felt far from happy.
Bae offered for the red feyfolk to settle in and wait for things to get sorted out. An apology and then finally, a question about what was supposed to happen if everyone was present, which received a curt non-answer.
“That’s classified information,” answered the soldier across from them.
The commander that remained on Bae’s shoulder muttered, “Not this, can tell you that much, mort.”
Kisaik took control of the situation then, with further explanation that they’d been invited by Purple. That got a few of the otherwise trained forward heads of the lined up soldiers to look toward him. Behind the shadows of their helms, ruby and scarlet lights glinted.
“You two are allies of Queen Cerulean?” inquired the commander. He flew closer to the Tunawa couple and examined them with beady red eyes. Whether this was good or bad, it seemed impossible to discern. “Hostile party?” He glanced around the area, then said, “Well, I don’t see anyone else here unless they’re hiding.”
The commanders both nodded at the rest of it; the ringing of the bell and the pedestal. They didn’t appear the slightest bit surprised by this.
Rabu sidled a little closer to Kisaik and made a tiny noise of uncertainty.
“A crack?” asked the Commander and he flew about. He tossed a look to the line of soldiers and they all hurriedly moved their gazes forward instead of staring at the Tunawa. “A crack in the… bell? That sounds slightly off to me.”
The fairy shook his head, landed his cardinal bird next to the bell, and dismounted.
“That can’t be good,” murmured the commander from Bae’s shoulder.
“No, it most certainly is not,” answered the other soldier. He leaned closer to look at the fissure in the crystal that was taller than his fey height.
“ₐ ᵩᵤₑₛₜ?” asked the betrothed next to Kisaik and Rabu grinned.
“Wait a moment... where is that light coming from?”
It was the last thing the soldier said.
Rays of what appeared to be sunlight shimmered and broke out from the jagged crevice in the bell. The beams glittered, brightened, expanded and blinded all within the Great Hall.
The Great Hall of the Fairy Court
Rabu, Cervantez, Thysbae, and Kisaik
Light filled the Great Hall from tree wall to tree wall.
Yellow, then red, then white.
Rabu found himself blinded.
Cervantez found himself blinded.
Thysbae found himself blinded.
Kisaik found himself blinded.
All four found themselves completely blinded, but they could hear and smell and feel.
To Rabu, he heard the running of feet against hard ground. Hundreds of tiny feet, pattered over what soon sounded like a forest. Scents of soil in the fertile time of the seasons, just waiting to be planted, surrounded him. A gentle Ymiden-like breeze graced over him.
To Cervantez, he heard the clatter of bones piled over bones. Hundreds of skeletons, dumped into a pit over each other to be wasted away. Scents of rotted meat and burnt flesh, of beasts and mortals alike, surrounded him. A harsh Cylus-like wind whipped around him.
To Thysbae, he heard the murmur of voices in hushed conversation. Hundreds of voices, all types in low drones over each other in constant chatter. Scents of a marketplace in midtrial, with all the sweat and odd tang of food mixed with material wares and rich spices lined up next to one another in open air. A sweltering Saun-like heat bore over his body.
To Kisaik, he heard the calls of birds. Hundreds of birds, trills and squawks and chirps through thickets of nature. Scents of sap and smoke intermingled, the quiet bubble of something brewing combined with the unique smells. Leaves fell against him, brushed against his form, in a Vhalar-like dance as they drifted downward.
And then…
Slowly…
Their vision returned.
Kisaik found himself beside Rabu… and Rabu. Two Rabus, identical in every way. At his feet, the bell had shattered into a million tiny glass pieces.
Rabu found himself beside Kisaik… but Rabu could not remember he was Rabu. For when Yah had come to ring the bell in the mirror dimension, merging the split realm back to the true one, it had also placed a curse upon him. This curse resulted in Rabu no longer remembering his name. He would not remember either, not even when reminded of it. He would remember Kisaik, but when put to the test or referenced as Rabu, he would not realize that such a name was himself.
Cervantez found himself seated on the ground, not too far away, with the sickly burning scent of cooked flesh still stuck in his nostrils. He was surrounded by bunnies who twitched their little bunny noses at him.
Thysbae found himself across the room, in the corner where shadows danced across the space. The fairy soldier on his shoulder had disappeared.
In fact, all of the fairies seemed to have disappeared. For the first few trills of their vision blinking back into existence, they still had white light around the corners and the glow had to fade first before they could truly see the Great Hall like before. What was glowing light around their eyes faded into butterflies formed from the warm mixture of colors that flocked through the Great Hall in calm flight.
But as the four got their bearings, they realized that the fairies were still there.
The fairies had… changed, however.
No longer red.
No longer yellow.
A great swath of hundreds of fairies now laid against the ground, in deep slumber, and all bearing vivid orange colors instead. Their clothing mixed between the wild shaman and ranger clothing of the Yellow province and the prudent armor of the Scarlet Kingdom, but the colors were of pumpkin and turmeric and peach and vermilion and tangerine and carrot and butterscotch and the insides of melons and the brilliant gem of jasper and the flicker of a candle’s flame.
The fairies slept soundly. The hall seemed quiet, almost as if night had fallen. The shadows grew from the corners, encroaching toward the center of the Great Hall where Kisaik stood with the shattered bell at his feet and the two Rabus.
