Chapter 1
Outwitted by a Beast
AN 1214 (AZ 1451) - Early Autumn
Mount Atreus, Notos
What is the Queen of Faeries to do in the loathsome mortal realm for a thousand years? The mortal realm had nothing to offer Mab that she desired, but her exile was punishment, so of course there would be no pleasure to be had.
After a little thinking, Mab realized that there was no need for her to simply languish for all those years. All she needed to do was put herself into an enchanted, dreamless sleep until the appointed time when she would be allowed to return home and the thousand years would seem to pass in an instant. Her exile would not serve its intended purpose of reflection and repentance, but she could easily go mad if she were forced to consciously endure the full term of her exile.
Banishment was a common punishment for those who displeased her husband. There were also a good many exiles who were banished at her behest. As such, she had to be on her guard for vengeful Fae that could be lurking anywhere.
There were also, however, appointed agents whose duty was to abide in the mortal realm. While Oberon intended for most of the Fae to be rid of the mortal realm when he created their sanctuary, he still needed to assert his control in all realms. As a result, the Elementals, Nymphs and such were easy to find. Because they were still loyal to the King and by extension to her, they were of course willing to lend her their aid.
She was guided to a sleepy little mountain on a great island in the distant South. Though there was a small community of human mages atop the mountain and some of the Sons of the Mountain within it, she would be safe enough in the depths that she might take her slumber and awake when it was time for her to return home.
The entire purpose of her dreamless sleep was that she would not know the passing of the time. The spell was precisely calculated to gently wake her when the time came. However, her waking was anything but gentle.
The searing pain was indescribable. She awoke screaming. Never before had she known such pain. All her senses were thrown into chaos. She may have never regained her presence of mind if it were not for a strange, soothing power flowing into her. The pain did not go away entirely, but it receded enough that she was able to bring her senses back in order.
The pain, now a dull burning, was centered on her wrists. She opened her eyes to see iron shackles upon them. Iron was the bane of the Fae, but who could have done this to her?
"Calmed down now, have we?" a voice asked.
It was a man, a human. He was clad in iron and an iron weapon he carried. With him was one of the Sons of the Mountain, also clad in iron; a Moonchild of the Shadow Tribe, and another human, much aged by their reckoning with no weak magic to him.
"What have you done?" she demanded. "Release me."
"I had my doubts when I heard the Fair Folk were weak to iron," the younger human said, "but I guess it was true after all."
Mab rose up from the stone bed on which she lay. The shackles and the chain between them felt inordinately heavy.
"Release me," she said again. "Release me now and I shall forgive you this insult and spare your lives."
"I have a counter-proposal for you," the human said. "You're going to serve me and if you serve me well, I'll release you when I no longer need your services."
A mere human thought he could enslave the Queen of Faeries? Preposterous.
"You are testing my patience, human," Mab said, "but I am yet merciful. Release me now and I will forget your impertinence."
"What can you do?" the human challenged her. "Show me."
This human was a bold one, but foolish. She would show him the price of incurring her wrath. She could think of a hundred spells to make him suffer, but she would settle for burning him with pure magic fire. It would be for but an instant, but in that instant he would feel the same pain he subjected her to. She summoned the mana about her to do her bidding. He would die quickly, but his companions would be made to suffer slowly in his stead.
Only when she tried to make the mana coalesce into the pure flame, nothing happened. The human grinned haughtily, as if he were expecting this to happen.
Attempting to pass off her failure as nothing more than an unsuccessful bluff, she told the human, "The iron, it binds my power. I can do nothing. I am of no use to you. Release me."
The human wagged his finger at her and replied, "No, iron only weakens your power and you're strong enough that you'll still be quite useful to me. Those chains were infused with my blood and thanks to the runes crafted by my companions, your power is bound to me. You can only use your powers when I command it."
The human picked up a rock from the ground and tossed it on the stone bed.
"Try it," he said. "Do to that stone what you were trying to do to me."
The moment he said the words, she felt the compulsion to obey. It was not overpowering, but it was like a splinter in her mind, burrowing ever deeper with each moment she did not act. As much out of curiosity as the power of the command, she released the mana she had gathered and a brilliant purple-white flame burned the stone to nothing and continued burning through the stone bed until it finally died out, leaving red-hot molten rock behind.
"Ha! It works!" the human exclaimed giddily. "I knew this'd be worth it!"
The human cleared his throat and regained his composure, reverting back to his haughty manner from before.
"Serve me well and you'll be treated well," he said. "Master Scipio will ease your pain and I will offer you whatever comfort I can afford. Resist and make trouble for me and you will feel again the same pain that woke you and you'll feel it until you choose to behave. Also, the better you serve me, the quicker your work will come to an end and the sooner I release you. Do we have an understanding?"
Mab could not help but wonder at this creature. So bold, and not entirely without warrant.
"Who are you, human?" she asked.
"I'm Rowland, son of Carolus," he replied, "captain of the Promethean Alliance, and you're going to help me win a country, Mab, Queen of Faeries."
"How do you know my name?"
"My people tell stories about your kind, you know," the human Rowland said. "Never to be trusted. I wouldn't have guessed you couldn't trust your own either."
So she was betrayed. That was how this happened to her. Who was it? The Oreads dwelling in the mountains? The Undines who carved out this cave? She would find out who it was and she would make them suffer, but for now, she had to play the human's game. Perhaps she could devise her own means of freeing herself. Until that day, though, she would have to play the slave for that arrogant mortal and comfort herself with the thought of avenging herself ten thousandfold.