The Fae King is Kind of a Jerk
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The way Philothea saw it, there were benefits and drawbacks to dying. On the one hand, dying meant she would be delivered into the eternal garden of her Holy Creator. On the other hand, it meant that Zoe would be absolutely furious with her.
She’d probably be so angry she wouldn’t even pray to Philothea’s spirit, and if she did pray, it would only be to reprimand her.
These were a few of the thoughts that passed through Philothea’s mind as the fae army attempted to crush her. The air around her tightened. She felt herself rising off the ground, higher and higher. She couldn’t move, or breathe, or make a sound. The one good thing about this was that it meant she wouldn’t die laughing. That would have made her feel like a complete idiot.
Philothea was vaguely aware of a voice shouting something, as she struggled for breath. Then, all at once, the constricting force released her. She fell gasping to the ground and lay in a crumpled heap.
While she was still sucking in the sweet air, Raven ran to her side.
“Thea?” she pleaded, gently tapping her cheek.
Philothea turned her head to look around. The warriors were still assembled in a circle around her. What happened? Why had they released her?
From the crowd emerged King Avis walking hand in hand with the little girl from the canopy room. The girl’s bright eyes sparkled, and the warm brown had returned to her cheeks.
The king, on the other hand, looked very much the same. A deep pain burned in his eyes, and his mouth was creased into a bitter frown.
He stood over Philothea, regarding her for a long moment, before saying, “You’re like your mother. She also has a very soft heart.” The ache in his expression increased. “A lot of good it does her.”
Philothea was still looking at the little girl. A warmth and joy filled her as she regarded the bright, healthy face of the child. It worked. She was cured.
“You’re alright?” Philothea asked the girl.
In reply, the girl threw her arms around the king’s legs, buried her face in his robe, and nodded. The king put a gentle hand on her head and mumbled, “Yes, she’s alright.”
Without looking up, the king added, “I will give you until dusk, then I will send for Zeno. I’ll tell him we couldn’t hold you.”
“That’s a nice way to thank the woman who cured your daughter,” Raven remarked.
“Quiet, Raven!” the king hissed. “You’re guilty of treason! The only reason I don’t kill you is that I need you to take this girl to her father. Now go! Both of you!”
“I thought you’d never ask,” Raven answered.
But Philothea pulled herself to her feet and looked at the king. He deliberately avoided her gaze, as the sight of her disgusted him.
“Where is my mother?” Philothea demanded.
The king was silent.
“You know!” Philothea pressed. “You sent Pouli back to her.”
“Zeno has her,” the king answered. “In his palace.”
Horror jolted through Philothea’s body.
“What?” Philothea gasped. “Why?”
“Go!” the king ordered. “Go to your father, where you belong.”
“Let’s go, little one,” Raven said. She took Philothea’s wrist.
“Wait,” the king blurted suddenly. He approached Philothea cautiously, glancing up at her face occasionally, but for the most part looking everywhere but.
He placed her mother’s seal in her hand.
“This is yours,” he said.
Before Philothea could say ‘thank you,’ Raven grabbed her wrist, and they both disappeared.
When Philothea and Raven materialized at the falls, they were greeted by the voice of Fae.
“Where is Pouli?” she asked.
Zoe, on the other hand, fluffed up excitedly. “There you are!” she exclaimed. “What happened? Why didn’t you follow us?”
Philothea opened her mouth to answer. The words caught in her throat. Without danger to keep her distracted, an avalanche of emotions crushed her. She fell to the ground in a sobbing, shaking ball.
“We’ll explain later,” Raven answered. “It’s been a long day, and it’s not over yet.”
“Where is my tiny Pouli?” Fae continued. “Ho, ho, ho, he’s a funny little one.”
“The king sent him back to Katina at Zeno’s palace,” Raven replied. “But he only left this morning, you might still be able to find him, Fae.”
“I will find my Pouli,” Fae replied. “He’s such a good boy, a pretty boy. I will find my Pouli.”
Fae spread her wings and took off.
Raven stooped down and took Philothea’s arm. “We’ve got to keep moving, little one. Zeno must be very close by, and we’ll want to be long gone before the king sends for him.”
Philothea wanted to curl up and sleep. She was spent physically and emotionally. A week ago, she had no idea she could even do magic; now, she was using it to fight for her life, blow stuff up, and heal people. Her whole body hurt.
Still, she knew Raven was right. She wiped her eyes with her wrist and tried to stand, but her legs trembled and gave way. Raven tugged her arm, trying to help her up. Philothea struggled to regain her footing, but it was no use.
Her untrained body had been completely overwhelmed by its own power. She collapsed.
“It’s a good thing you’re tiny,” Raven grumbled as she stooped down and lifted Philothea into her arms.
The Fables of Para Sympan 