Shadows Of Desire

If traveling to Ansonia had taught Rowan anything it was that expectations could be deceiving. This was as true of Pickaway village as it was the entire Fae Kingdom. It was odd to think that he’d spent the last nineteen years never knowing that a world outside his own even existed. He knew of the other Kingdoms of course, but he had never imagined they would be anything different from the world he had grown up in. The differences though, were day and night, literally. Where his world had been shrouded in darkness, the world beyond was anything but, and he loved it.

Rowan saw immediately why Thaden had chosen Pickaway village to be their home. They had arrived at the village at dusk. The sun had just began to set as they made their way down the dusty path that led into the village. Large trees towered over them and Rowan realized that the forest grew more dense the further in they went. It was beautiful. Everywhere Rowan looked was lush, green, vegetation. Even in the waning light he could see the beauty of the world around him bursting with life. For miles they traveled, hearing only the sounds of the forest around them. The road narrowed some and once the cart got stuck but Thaden and Rowan were able to release it easily enough.

Tally sat up, leaning over the side of the cart as she looked around her in glorious, childlike, wonder. Soon though the sounds of chirping birds and scurrying animals gave way to music, laughter, and the unmistakable sounds of merry conversation. Rowan could see tiny fire lights burning in the distance and soon he realized that what he was looking at were dozens of lanterns strung up between the trees. It was an amazing sight to behold. The flames of the lanterns danced and cast their shadows on the dwellings around them and, as they drew near to the entrance of the village, Rowan saw a scene of wholesome gaiety unfolding before him.

A small bond fire had been built in the center of the village. Logs had been set around the fire to be used as seats and on them sat many of the villagers, both young and old. A trio of fiddle players were happily strumming a merry song while children and young couples danced to the music. Large men stood talking, mugs of ale in hand, and mothers chased their little ones around as they laughed and played, enjoying the hearty festivities. All around were people in good spirits, eating, drinking, and just enjoying each other’s company. A few looked up as Rowan, Thaden, and Tally approached, but they didn’t seem frightened or even surprised by their presence.

Tally watched them in awe. Her eyes large and mesmerized by all that she saw. “Look.” She whispered to Rowan, pointing her finger at a young girl about Tally’s age who was standing near the fire, eating some kind of fruit that Rowan didn’t recognize. “That girl has wings.” Tally observed. “And she’s so pretty!”

“Yes.” Rowan agreed. “She is very pretty.” Indeed, everyone in this tiny village was beautiful and alluring. Almost unnaturally so. The women were all dressed in bright colors and many wore gold bands on their arms or wrists, as well as necklaces Some even had gold and jewels hanging from their ears. The children were dressed in clothing that was as bright and colorful as their mother’s and sister’s, some of the older children even wearing gold bracelets of their own. Many of the little girls also wore wreaths of colorful flowers on their heads and the small boys wore similar wreaths of leaves and twigs.

The men were tall and broad, many wearing clothes the color of nature such as greens, browns, and red. They had cloaks of fur around their shoulders and completely covering their backs to the point where Rowan couldn’t tell if any of the men had wings, as many of the female villagers had. Not all, but many of the women and young girls had wings of many varieties. Some had wings that resembled those of a butterfly, or moth, some a dragonfly. Others had feathered wings like those of a bird and one woman Rowan noted had bat-like wings. Even with the dark bat wings, the woman was strikingly beautiful, with raven hair and sharp blue eyes.

Like the colors of their clothing, many of the females had brightly colored hair that ranged anywhere from blue or pink, to golden yellow. Others, like the men, had hair that was black as night, brown, red, or silvery white. It was magnificent to behold and Rowan felt as though watching them all dance, and play was like watching a garden of flowers come to life and rejoice in the beauty of the night. He looked up to Thaden and saw that he too was in awe as he watched. The smile on his face and the look in his eyes showed his true reverence for these people.

“They’re amazing.” Rowan whispered to him and Thaden nodded.

“These are the Shee.” Thaden explained. “The last of an ancient race of Fae, descended from the Gods themselves. They are the children of the Tuatha.”

“The Tuatha?” Rowan had heard of them before but he wasn’t that familiar with them. “What are the Tuatha?” He asked.

“The Tuatha were race of immortals that once lived here, on Earth, but before the realms split. They were beautiful, enchanting, and extremely powerful. No one knew the extent of their magic or even if there was a limit to what they could do. Many believed that they were the children of Gods and so had God-like powers. Most of the Tuatha were kind, and benevolent. They wanted to live in peace with the other races and for the most part they did. For thousands of years they did. But then the humans came and I don’t know if it was out of fear or jealousy, but the humans saw the Tuatha as a threat and waged a war against them.

This war went on for ages as the Humans continuously attempted to drive the Tuatha out and claim their lands for their own. Realizing that the fighting would never end, the Tuath called forth a massive storm, destroying most of the human’s ships and leaving many of the Humans dead. When the storm had ended, the Tuatha were gone. They had just vanished. Of course the Humans saw this as a victory and claimed they had defeated the immortal race but many believe that the Tuatha were just sick of the fighting and killing and so chose to leave on their own.

Whatever the reason, the war had caused a rift between the races and so the separate realms were then created, cutting the Humans off from the Fae and other races, and our realm became the realm of shadows, and the memories of our people faded away into myth and legends. Most humans no longer believe that we exist at all, or ever did. We’ve become bedtime stories, tales of fantasy and lore, reduced to nothing more than figments of their imaginations.”

“So, where are the Tuatha now?” Rowan asked, becoming more intrigued with the story.

Thaden shrugged. “No one knows really. There are rumors of course. Some say that they went underground and built a new society there. Others claim that the Gods themselves transported them to a world of magic, and eternal youth, to live in peace and harmony. A paradise to many, like heaven, but only for creatures of magic and mystery. There are claims that some stayed behind or would return to our world from time to time. Some chose to mate with the Fae and their children are the Shee.”

Thaden glanced at the village before them and Rowan saw a hint of sadness cross his handsome features. “This village.” Thaden said, nodding towards the Shee, “This village and the people that inhabit it are the last of that glorious race. They’re the only proof we have that the Tuatha ever existed at all.”

“So sad.” Rowan slipped his hand into Thaden’s as he too looked to the village before them. “Human’s call us monsters, but I think it’s the other way around.”

Thaden nodded. “In some cases, I think you’re right. Not all Human’s are bad though.” He glanced back at Tally. She smiled up at him and he smiled back at her. “I think, given the opportunity, many of them could be our allies. Once they realize that we’re not that very different.”

“I feel that way too.” Rowan admitted. “And not just with Humans. It’s a shame that vampire’s have made enemies of the other races. We’re not all bad but the actions of a few have made us all look like monsters. I blame my father mostly but it’s not just him. The rest of us just followed him blindly when we should have stood up to him and told him what he was doing was wrong.”

“I don’t hold you accountable for your father’s actions.” Thaden told him.

Rowan looked down, guilt washing over him. “Maybe you should.” He said softly. “Maybe, you all should.”

Thaden held Rowan close against him. He wanted to comfort his mate but he didn’t know how. Rowan seemed determined to blame himself for his father’s crimes though Thaden didn’t blame him at all, though he knew that many others would. They couldn’t see past the fact that he was a vampire. They couldn’t see the goodness in his heart the way that Thaden did. They only saw a monster. That thought broke Thaden’s heart because he knew that Rowan was anything but. He just wished that his father and brother could see Rowan the way that he saw him, that they could know how special Rowan was.

With Tally still in the cart and Thaden leading Shadow dancer, he and Rowan walked side by side into the village. The fiddle players stopped and all heads turned in their direction. Mother’s scooped their children up into their arms, keeping them safely away from the strangers entering their village unannounced. From out of the crowd, a man and woman came forward. They were youthful in appearance and like the other villagers, quite beautiful. The woman had long, flowing, golden hair and bright blue eyes and was she dressed in silk robes of bright and vibrant colors.

Her male companion was tall, broad, and heavily muscled. His hair and beard were of a deep, dark, red and his eyes were dark brown. He wore brown slacks and a grey tunic. A fur cloak hung over one shoulder and was secured at his throat with a gold pin. Rowan’s heart leapt into his throat as the couple approached and Thaden squeezed his hand reassuringly.

“Greetings, friends.” The man spoke first. He looked over Thaden and Rowan both, sizing them up it seemed, in case they were there to cause any trouble Rowan figured. He and Thaden tried to look as non-confrontational as possible. Though, he wagered that these people had enough magic to protect themselves if need be. “What brings you to our little village?” The man asked.

Thaden took a step forward. “I am Thaden Dacaryn, of Rosegate.” He told the man. He then motioned to Rowan. “This is my mate, Rowan, of Basmorte, and the child in the cart is Tally, a human changeling we’ve taken in.” He offered the man his hand and the man graciously accepted though his eyes never left Rowan’s even as he listened to Thaden introduce them.

“Rowan? Rowan Rochfort?” The woman narrowed her eyes as she spoke Rowan’s surname, eyeing him carefully.

“Dacaryn now.” Rowan corrected her. “I choose to take my husband’s name.”

“But you are Rowan, Prince of Basmorte, son of King Desmond Rochfort, are you not?” The woman questioned, the suspicion clear in her tone.

Rowan sighed. “I was Prince of Basmorte but no longer. I left my father’s house and renounce my title.”

“Renounce?” The woman laughed. “Everyone thinks you dead. I would say you’ve done more than renounce your title.”

“We’ve come here as commoners.” Thaden interjected, sensing Rowan’s discomfort. “King Vorigan has given us his permission to travel through Ansonia. We ask that we be permitted to take up residence here, in Pickaway village, to live among you in peace.”

“We’ve no use for Prince’s in this village.” The man said, folding his arms over his chest. “Nor do we seek to be ruled by monarchy.”

“Good.” Thaden told him. “Because we do not seek to rule anyone. All we want is to live a simple life as common folk. We’ll adhere to the authority of your tribes leader, work and contribute however you wish, if we’re allowed to stay.”

“You, work?” The woman scoffed. “What do you know of work, elven Prince? You’ve lived your life in a palace, catered to by servants. And you, vampire.” She sneered as she looked Rowan over. “Your father’s Kingdom was built on the backs of slaves. How many of those slaves have you, Prince, mistreated, beaten, or fed from? How many have lost their lives merely for your entertainment? You disgust me. Go away from this village. Your kind is not welcome here.”

The woman turned her back to Rowan and began to walk away when Rowan spoke in answer to her question, whether she expected an answer or not, he was not about to let her walk away after the things she had accused him of.

“None.” He told her, head held high, showing not an ounce of shame or fear.

The woman turned back to him, eyebrow raised, as she pursed her lips and stared at him with contempt. “If you expect me to believe that, you’re a fool.” She growled.

“I care not whether you believe me or not.” Rowan told her. “But I speak the truth. I have never mistreated a servant nor slave and I certainly have never fed from any of them. I abhor what my father has done. Why do you think I faked my own death and ran away? I hate my father and all he stands for.”

“Stood for.” The woman corrected with a sneer.

Rowan narrowed his eyes. “What?”

The woman sighed, rolling her eyes in annoyance. “King Desmond of Basmorte is dead.” She told him. “Don’t pretend you didn’t know.”

Rowan shook his head in shock. “I-I swear...I didn’t know...” He stumbled backwards, suddenly feeling light headed and unsteady on his feet. Thaden quickly reached out and grabbed him before he fell but he was already reeling from what he’d just been told. Thaden and the others were talking but their words only sounded like muffled whispers. The world around him slipped in and out of focus, spinning around him as if the entire world had suddenly gone mad. Maybe, he thought, maybe I am one the who is going mad.

His father was dead. King Desmond was dead. Even as the word echoed again and again in his head it didn’t seem real. He didn’t even know if his father’s death was something to mourn or rejoice over. How many times in the past had he wished for his father’s death, whether meaning it or not? How many times had he actually contemplated killing the man himself? His emotions began to spin out of control and he debated with himself whether he should cry or yell, curse the Gods or thank them. In the end, he found himself laughing. Laughing like a mindless fool but he couldn’t contain it. He laughed until there were tears in his eyes.

He realized what he must look like, what the others must think of him, but he didn’t care. His father was dead and, the Gods help him, he was happy about it. He looked up to the heavens and whispered, “Thank you,” before collapsing into Thaden’s arms. He felt himself being lifted up, his body pressed against Thaden as he was carried away. To where he did not know, maybe to the Cart to be laid down against the bags of grain and other goods. He didn’t know nor did he care really. He felt safe and secure in Thaden’s arms and that was all that mattered at the moment. Once again came the thought, my father’s dead, finally, I’m free. Smiling, he closed his eyes, and the darkness closed in around him. The rest was silence.