Work Text:
Prologue I
18th of Märzi, Isle of Novokuz
On the Isle of Novokuz, mists swayed in a softly waving wind. In a castle on high, rich purple curtains danced in the breeze. A maid walked up an ornate marble staircase and knocked on the heavy pine doors, freshly made and still tinged with the scent of the forest. As she walked into the room, the ceramic serving tray dropped to the floor and shattered.
“GUARD! GUARDS- YOUR MAJESTIES!” She tripped over her long skirts in her haste to escape the room. Her hands became bloody from thousands of minuscule cuts, borne from shards of fine pottery. She looked up in horror at the open windows, the demolished wood bed frame, and worst of all, the absence of Prince Trix.
Nobody came when she called. After a few long moments, the maid slowly got up, detangling herself from the thick layer of dark wool fabric. She brushed off her skirts and threw open the doors. The hinges creaked from the pressure, but she didn’t hear. Lenore hiked up her skirts and ran through the castle, screaming for help. Eventually, she found a guard, but he didn’t believe her.
“The prince could never be stolen. You’re hysterical, take a day of rest.” Lenore pleaded, and eventually, the guard gave in. He followed her up the marble steps, leisurely dragging his heavy hands on the shimmering crystal handrails.
Upon reaching the Prince’s suite, His jaw crashed to the floor in shock. “We must inform their Majesties.” He ran down the steps, yelling as loudly as his voice permitted.
Lenore stayed in the Prince’s suite for some time, taking in the sight of wide-open windows and shattered furniture. Slowly, she stood. She would start with a broom, sweeping up the broken ceramic tray. Then, she would contact craftsmen in the village to repair the bed frame. This room had to be reconstructed, Lenore thought to herself, pushing off the ground. She opened the door, running a hand along fine carvings of cochons, stars, and other magical creatures.
In a swish of movement, Lenore was off to the closest maid’s closet, mind set on her plan. She couldn’t make the prince magically reappear, but she could set up this small comfort in case anyone happened upon the room. They would not walk into a shattered image of opulence: they would see a clean place, an elegantly refurbished memorial to the lost Prince Trix.
Prologue II
18th of Märzi, Isle of Novokuz
Sailee walked into the grand throne room. He carefully stepped in a practiced rhythm, determined not to rush despite the anxiety gnawing at the edges of his stomach.
“Your majesties,” Sailee said, taking a knee in front of them, “I have deployed all the guards in the palace. Additional conscripts are being brought in from outside the palace walls. We will find where the prince was taken.” Sailee looked into the eyes of Queen Elora and King Ambrose.
“Sailee, you’re a good fighter. Bring our son home,” the King said. He grabbed Sailee’s hand in a bruising grip and pulled him up from his place on the floor.
“I will do everything in my power, your majesty,” Sailee said. He sharply pivoted on the heel of his foot, but before he strode out of the ballroom, the King spoke again.
“Send foot soldiers first, Sailee. We cannot afford to lose you.” Sailee nodded and left the room.
Cleaning the Tower
23rd of Märzi, Isle of Novokuz
As Lenore runs a broom along the floorboards, the fibers snag on crooked slabs of wood. Sighing to herself, she picks up a small pile of splinters. The floor is covered with pieces just like this. Her broom may not be enough.
Something within the pile catches her eye. Hooked between the spiny wood is a small charm. It’s the color of a pure blue sky, with viridian gemstones inlaid as a spear design. The charm is woven into a bracelet made from what feels like sinew but looks like some sort of grass.
Foreign material, Lenore realizes. She drops the bracelet as if it’s burned her skin beyond repair. In some ways, it has the potential to start fires. Fires so large and unforgiving that they’ll engulf the Isle, slowly withering the land until it’s burned down, the neighbors are singed, and the enemy clans have retreated underground.
Lenore resolves to do something. The only issue is that she doesn’t know how. She thinks back to five days ago, when the guard on duty scoffed as she tried to get his help as the windows of the Prince’s room stood shattered. Does anything I say matter? Lenore thinks to herself. Slowly, she puts on the bracelet and tucks it under her long black sleeve.
I will find a way to bring attention to this. Later, when I can be sure people will listen. And if nobody will listen, I shall go myself. Lenore makes sure the bracelet is secure on her wrist and picks the broom back up. The room won’t clear itself out.
Trial and Error (Many an Error)
24th of Märzi, Isle of Novokuz
“Guard, please, I found this cleaning the prince's room-”
“Be quiet,” the guard says, shoving Lenore harshly to the side. She stumbles into the wall. He continues marching, and Lenore stares wistfully at his retreating figure. His heavy leather boots trail globs of mud across the preciously pristine quartz floors. Lenore shakes her head, standing back up. She’ll need to find another way to make people understand.
At the dawn of night, Lenore approaches a fellow maid. The lady is tending to lamps, delicately pouring kerosene into the small opening near the bottom. She sets the can of kerosene down, and Lenore decides that now is the moment.
“Excuse me? I was cleaning the prince’s room, and I found-” The withering look the other maid gives is enough to stop Lenore in the middle of the sentence.
“I don’t have time to listen to anything. Go do your job, like I am,” the other maid bites out. Lenore stares for a few moments, then swiftly walks away. Her footsteps echo around the empty halls.
Interrim
26th of Märzi, Central Mokpo
“Unrest is stirring, led by a young servant in their ranks. We cannot divert their anger much longer. Conflict is nigh.”
“Lenore. It has to be! She was-”
“I don’t care what she was, or is, to anyone. She must be stopped.” There is a period of silence in a castle far on high.
“Yes, my Liege.”
Defeated
30th of Märzi, Isle of Novokuz
Lenore makes her way back to the maid’s quarters feeling defeated. She’s tried everything she can to make people see reason. Surely there’s a reason that no expedition to recover Prince Trix has worked yet? Large groups may be too conspicuous. Smaller expeditions may uncover the location of the prince. The pine woods are dangerous, but members of the Isle could have power in preparedness. She just wishes people would listen.
Lenore then gets an idea. She gets a terrible, awful idea. She has free will. She can go fetch the prince from the elven lands.
A one-person expedition is incredibly risky, but it might work. Lenore can be quiet and inconspicuous. Yes, this will work very well. She must prepare.
Bâtée
50th of Märzi, Isle of Novokuz
As the son of a noble, Sailee prides himself on his exceptional guard work in the palace. He has earned his role through pure skill, and no nepotism whatsoever. Well, okay, a bit of nepotism. Despite any accelerated promotion, Sailee prides himself on knowing when things are awry.
On a night when the trees sway and flowers dance in a luxurious autumn breeze, Sailee sits on his private veranda outside the fighter’s quarters. He looks out onto the expansive palace grounds, eyes unfocused. The blur of colors melds into a singular, clumped painting. Grass becomes a sage green floor. The creamy beige of the limestone castle is a ghastly disturbance that hides the sky from view. The sky twinkles with the distant light of stars, multicolored against the vast backdrop of space.
Sailee looks to the void of night and sighs as he stares at the largest star in the night: Bâtée. It shimmers a foreign shade of vermilion. Under the blanket of the night, Bâtée is the only thing that provides light to the mystical Isle.
Sailee leans against the railing of his veranda and allows himself to experience everything: the smell of leaves, delicately carried through the wind, which
bites coldly at his face: the feeling of the smooth wood grain under his fingers: The smell of kerosene floating through the air- the smell of kerosene?!?
The Stables
50th of Märzi, of Isle Novokuz
A door clicks open. Candlelight, previously a pinprick, illuminates the stables.
“What are you doing here?” A harsh voice penetrates the silence. Lenore gasps and turns around. It’s a palace guard.
“Nothing, sir, other than feeding the horses.” Lenore holds her breath as she takes in the guard. She subtly shifts her shoulder pack behind her.
Suspicion is painted on his face.
“I wasn’t made aware that the stablefolk delegated their tasks to maids now,” he says, “I’ll make sure they understand not to bother you.”
“Forgive me, sir, but how will you manage that?”
“I’m Head Commander Sailee,” he says. She stares back at him with wide eyes.
“I’m Lenore.” She fiddles with the elven bracelet around her wrist repeatedly.
Sailee’s eyes follow the movement. The lady’s clothes are simple. A black chemise lies under a loose veridian apron. The only strange thing is that bright blue bracelet.
“Where did you get that?” He focuses on the bracelet, that traitorous bracelet. Why does a maid wear a bracelet woven of silken grass and decorated with precious jewels? An elven bracelet. A loathsome, foul, blood-curdling, monstrous bracelet.
“I found it,” Lenore says, “while I was cleaning the prince’s room.” Sailee stares at her, utterly shocked. She takes a step closer to him.
“Commander Sailee, I need to find the Prince. The royal family doesn’t care anymore. I’ve arranged for his room to be restored, but it’s not right if we can’t arrange a rescue.”
“The royals have a spare heir. Prince Trea, the younger of the twins. That’s why they didn’t want anyone to go out on expeditions anymore. They don’t care about Prince Trix. Searching was only a formality.”
“But surely you care?” Lenore asks. Sailee’s face softens.
“Of course I care. I used to be his guard. But nobody has returned to the Isle after setting off. Novokuz is slowly dwindling in number, and if we can’t find the Prince, it’s over. We have to stop. I’ll keep commanding the armies, and you’ll continue dusting statues.”
“Dusting statues?!?” Lenore exclaims. Sailee notices Lenore’s eyes flitting from the horses to the doors. She seems anxious. But why?
Eventually, she glares at him, and he realizes he’s neglected to respond.
“Or whatever it is that you do. I’m not paid to know things like that.”
“But Prince Trix hasn’t been found!” She steps toward one of the Isle’s finest stallions. Sailee takes in the sight of this maid with fresh eyes. He notices the small shoulder pack he had missed because of its simplicity. She’s donned a travel bonnet, and her dark brown hair is tightly braided.
“You think Prince Trix can be found? Some of our best soldiers have been sent on expeditions. The only thing that can be done now is to give up or to send me on a solo expedition. Alone, I would not attract much attention. If I go out and look for him, will that appease your worries?”
“I’m sorry?” Lenore’s eyes are full of confusion. Sighing, Sailee decides it’s okay to break confidentiality just this once.
“I was tasked to search for Trix. We’re giving up if I can’t find him within 3 nights. Go back to your quarters, Lenore. This conversation never happened, you know nothing, and I won’t say a word about what you were going to do.”
“What are you implying?” she asks him. He laughs, smiling as he meets her eyes.
“You didn’t come here to feed horses, Lenore.” Her eyes flit down to his waist, where a finely crafted broadsword is strapped.
“I think it’s best not to lie, yes?” Sailee says. Lenore slowly nods. “Since I’m feeling charitable, I’ll let you come with. Given that you were going to go anyway.”
“What?” Lenore exclaims. Sailee smirks at her baffled expression. Lenore is the perfect person to bring with. Like the common folk, her care for the prince is strong. She will be the perfect person to ward off their foolish concerns after they return. He can rest while Lenore worries about commoners. Yes, Sailee thinks to himself, this will work quite well.
On the Road
1st of Yüli, Unmapped Forests
Lenore is mesmerized by the trees. Normally, pines are purely green. The deeper they’ve gotten into the forest, the more they seem to have a blueish hue. Lenore is hit with a wall of pure pine scent. She stumbles in her step, coughing a bit from the strength of the smell. Green grass waves in the wind, and the pine trees stand tall and proud. They always do and always will, until the end of time. A small section of them is gone from logging, but nothing is noticeably different. Suddenly, in front of her, Sailee stops.
“The trees are strange,” he whispers. As if in a trance, he reaches up and touches the nearest cluster of needles. It feels soft, like the fur of a newborn bunny.
“My mother used to tell me stories of enchanted places,” Lenore offers. “She told me of how stardust will make you go to sleep and that cochon’s heal all
wounds. They’re just that: stories. Strange trees? Really, Sailee?” Sailee shakes his head, running his hand along the tree bark. It feels artificial. The wood grain feels like smooth metal.
“I, too, used to believe these woods were magical. I think that belief may be reality.”
The leaves spin and dance in a shimmering wind. Lenore laughs. “What’s so different about magic woods, then?”
Sailee grimaces. “You never know what lies within. Elves like to frequent them. That’s what makes them so dangerous. That bracelet you have? Could be elven-made. They have lots of blue grasses in the capital city, Mokpo. Those stories of magic? They’re real.” Lenore looks out at the path. It’s dilapidated and covered in long reeds and grasses. The cobblestones of the road, worn down over many centuries, are barely distinguishable from the ground.
“Doesn’t look like a threatening place, I’ll be honest. Seems pretty harmless,” she says with a laugh. “You’re ruler of the guards, and you believe in bedtime tales? It’s time to grow up, Sailee.” He scowls and pushes past her, beginning to hack at vines with his large broadsword.
“That’s what they want you to think, Lenore. This forest is alive with the breath of magic. Creatures could be circling us right now. They could be watching us. They are watching us!”
Lenore looks down at the maybe-elven bracelet tied around her wrist. “I think you’re just stressed out. You weren’t positive magic was real 10 seconds ago. Let’s calm down.” Silence passes between the two as Sailee continues hacking at the long reeds blocking their path.
“Well, if elves are watching us, they’re not out to kill us. We aren’t moving far with how thick this grass is. Let’s stop and break for lunch,” Lenore says. She fishes a lunch pail out of her shoulder pack and sits down.
“Okay, we’ll break for lunch, and I’ll tell you why we don’t trust elves.”
“Why you don’t trust elves.” Lenore corrects him.
Sailee lets out a mirthless laugh.
“I’m not sure if these stories ever left the royal guard, but there was a war a few decades ago.” He shoots her a pointed look.
“The War of Foudre,” Lenore says with a grimace, “All I know is that it was brutal.”
“Well, it wasn’t against the Zakpà clan. That’s a lie, spun by the royals. The Zakpàs assimilated into our kingdom long before the war even started. We actually fought it against the Elven tribes of Mokpo.” Sailee sighs, shaking his head. “The king didn’t want anyone to panic, so he lied to the entire kingdom. My father lost his life in that war, and nobody knows why. Except for me, and now you, too. And the royal family, I suppose.”
“What about the other soldiers?”
“Dead. We lost that war. Every day, we live in fear of the elves. That’s why I’m afraid we’re being watched. Elves are dangerous.”
“If you’re so scared, why are you out on this expedition?”
Snap. Sailee immediately turns toward the sound.
“You heard that too.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement. Lenore nods, and they exchange glances. Birds sail through the trees.
“Maybe you weren’t wrong earlier. About us being watched, I mean,” Lenore says. Sailee scoffs, shrugs off his shoulder pack, and unsheaths his broadsword.
“Lenore, there’s a spare dagger in my bag. Grab it.”
“I’m opposed to violence, if possible. For the record!” Lenore exclaims, dramatically tromping over to the bag, which she begins rifling through. She pauses at the small things inside. A small wooden slab rests near the bottom. An image of three people is carved in the wood- a man, a woman, and a small child. A small paper sack containing only crumbs of a bakery muffin is plastered to the side. A weathered paper map, with ink so old it sticks to Lenore’s fingers, hides the dagger Sailee spoke of. She carefully grabs the blade.
“Nonviolence won’t do you a lot of good if you’re dead,” Sailee deadpans. Lenore shoots him a glare, which he scoffs at. She still walks over to huddle beside him after she grabs the dagger. Leaves rustle everywhere around them. Sailee looks out at the trees.
“If there are elves, why aren’t they attacking?” Lenore asks, “We got paranoid, didn’t we? It was just an animal.” The leaves still dance in the wind.
“The wind is colorful. That’s a sign of magic. They may be waiting to attack. They’re surrounding us… Waiting for our guard to be down. That’s the only way they could have killed my father, he was too vigilant to have died normally. We’re going to die. I’m going to die. Without justice! Without closure! Without-”
“Hey! Sailee? Sailee, please listen to me!” Lenore places her hands on his shoulders. She waits until his breathing becomes less rapid. “We’ll be fine,” Lenore says, “We’re going to survive.” As she stretches her arms out, the woven blue-grass bracelet slides down slightly. The viridian gems catch the light and beam it into the trees.
Suddenly, arrows descend! Lenore screams, freezing in place with the dagger held in front of her heart. Sailee grabs his broadsword and slices through the arrows. The severed halves litter the ground. The two wait, holding their breath, for many more minutes.
“I guess they gave up on killing us,” Lenore says. Sailee scoffs and shakes his head.
“I don’t trust it.”
Suddenly, the severed halves of the arrows start shimmering. They transform into thick ropes of woven grass. Stardust hovers in the air around them. Before either can react, the ropes weave themselves into a barrier around their bodies. A stray rope slaps Lenore in the face, and she keels over in pain.
“Ouch! What in the world? Sailee? Sailee!? Are you here?” She clutches her hands over her eye in pain.
“I’m right behind you.” Lenore turns around, and Sailee is standing there inside the net with her.
“Oh. Hey. Didn’t see you there,” Lenore says. She’s rewarded with a small huff of laughter.
“You know, I thought we were about to die, so this isn’t too bad. Of course, we could still die,” Sailee says. Lenore stares at him incredulously.
“Did you not just cut all those arrows in half?”
“I didn’t think that would work. I thought we were toast.”
“That’s not optimistic. Okay, well… Maybe we just need to believe our way out of this.”
“Believe? In what, exactly?!? The impending likelihood of our untimely deaths?!?”
Abruptly, the bracelet around Lenore’s wrist begins glowing—rays of light flash off the gems.
“Lenore, what’s happening?”
“Something weird! I regret judging your belief in magic.”
“You were judging me?!?”
“Priorities!” Beneath them, the grass begins to shimmer. Fine golden stardust catches the light. The grass shifts to a cerulean blue and grows rapidly,
ensnaring their feet in place.
“What’s going on? How is this happening?” Lenore asks. She tugs at the grass, but finds that her hands can’t unravel it. Its hold is too strong.
“Elvin magic. We’re going to die to elves. My entire family line, gone because of these ghastly creatures. We’re screwed.”
“Sailee, we still have our weapons.” Sailee shakes his head sadly.
“It won’t matter. Hey, Lenore? I’m glad I got to know you.” Lenore takes in his tentative smile- is this the first time she’s seen him smile? She thinks so.
“Stardust is in the air,” she whispers. She thinks back to her mother’s stories. “Stardust… if magic is real, does that mean we might fall…” She doesn’t get to finish her sentence before she slumps over, lulled to sleep by the magic of stars.
Negotiations
2nd of Yüli, Elven Grove
They awaken in a beautiful garden. Lush flowers are spread about in clumps, surrounded by protective berms. Small benches made from stacked logs litter the sides of a winding path. Sailee shares a look with Lenore before leading the way down the cleared dirt path.
“What do you think they want from us?” Lenore asks.
“Something terrible for us, but good for them,” Sailee says. He moves to grab his broadsword, only to realize it’s missing. He scoffs, kicking up a clump of the loose dirt with his boot.
“Go figure, they’ve taken our weapons. We’re elf food, plain and simple.” Sailee glares out at the path ahead of him.
“I still have the bracelet,” Lenore says softly. Sailee shakes his head at her, trekking forward with an air of caution.
“I would’ve thought they wanted it, like they wanted everything else we had… I guess they don’t care,” Sailee says. His eyes rapidly scan around the garden, surveying the ground ahead. The feeble path is littered with weeds. On a bench in the distance, Sailee sees a person sitting. He holds a hand up to stop Lenore, pointing to this new figure. As they walk closer, they turn to stare at each other.
“Is that Prince Trix?” Lenore asks. She runs forward, taking in the sight of the lost prince. She stops in her tracks.
“Your ears are pointed… your eyes are purple,” she exclaims.
“Only if you look from an angle,” Trix says with a laugh. He stares at her head on, and his ears seem to flatten. His eyes shift back to a hazel tone.
“How can this be?” Lenore asks. Trix glances between her and Sailee. Sailee watches their interaction in tense silence. Trix stares past Lenore’s head, off into the distance, then shrugs.
“It’s the power of magic,” he says elusively. Lenore gawks at him with wide eyes before shaking her head at him.
“Prince Trix, we’ve come to rescue you,” Sailee says, pushing past Lenore. He grabs Trix’s arm and pulls him up from the bench. Trix yanks his arm away.
“Just Trix is fine, Sailee, and I don’t need rescuing. The elves have nothing against humans. This war… It’s about the forest, nature, the freedom of the Isle to prosper.”
“They started this war! They killed my father and thousands of good soldiers. You can’t side with them, you’re our prince!”
“But it’s their Isle-”
“Where countless gallons of blood have been spilled.” Sailee and Trix stare at each other. Ultimately, Trix just sighs in disappointment. He waves his hand, and Sailee’s body immediately goes limp as he is lowered to the ground by unseen forces.
“Trix, what did you do?!?” Lenore exclaims. She takes many steps back.
“This magic isn’t limited by distance, Lenore. Come back over.” Trix smiles, and his eyes gain a purple sheen once more. Lenore thinks it feels more sinister this time.
“What did you do?” she asks him.
“Relax, I just put him to sleep. He’ll reawaken when it’s dinnertime. You’re more levelheaded, Lenore. Now listen to me.” Lenore stares into Trix’s eyes. When he stares straight at her, they look hazel. Human. When he looks away, his eyes become purple once more. The air around him shimmers enticingly.
“The Isle is in danger. The Clan is fixing it. The High Council of Elders believes we may be the key to peace. That is, two of us.” Trix’s gaze lingers on Sailee, still fast asleep on the ground. Lenore stares at Trix in horror.
“You won’t let them hurt him.” Lenore watches with bated breath.
“I won’t?” Trix laughs lightly. Sinisterly. “Lenore, you were always one of my favorite people on staff. You always see the best in people. Sometimes, Lenore, the best isn’t what you get. Now come along. We have a Queen to meet.” Lenore stares at him in shock.
“Absolutely not, Trix. That is not happening. I’m not going anywhere without Sailee and a safe way back to the Isle.” Trix reaches into his pocket. He pulls out a handful of shimmering stardust. He drags his fingers through it. It flows together like water, and its stream spreads into the air.
Lenore takes a deep breath and marvels at the sight. Trix moves his hands, and the dust follows. He moves his hand, and the dust races towards Lenore. She begins running away, but it doesn’t matter. The edges of her vision begin to grow fuzzy. She feels as though she’s disconnecting from the world. Lenore sees outside of her body, and notes with horror as Trix waves his hand and everything goes dark.
Meeting
3rd of Yüli, Central Mokpo
Lenore walks into the throne room and forces herself to take a deep breath. If she isn’t calm, she’ll just be put to sleep again.
Trix walks in front of her, stopping before a large throne. He takes a knee in front of a tall elf with a crown on her head. Her long white hair is slightly curled and has gemstones woven through it. Rubies and emeralds are laid into a gold crown, which shines extravagantly in the light atop her head. The ruler of the elves is here. As her raucous laughter fills the air, Lenore makes eye contact with her.
“If I promise to spare your little friend, will you assist us?” the elven Queen asks. Lenore hesitates, then nods.
“Well then, I believe it is time for our banquet.”
The elven Queen is here, and she’s at the other end of the dining table…