He tossed the wood into the burning fire. It was freezing in the main hall. Whole house was shaking in the clutches of ice and snow.

Tiyan lifted the dead boar and put it cautiously on the table. It was heavy and untouched by magic – a rare thing in Vennklan Valley. The animal will probably allow them to fill their stomachs for four days. Then he will have to go on another hunt, as the only hunter in the family.

He slowly started to pull the gloves off, trying to warm up fingers, which got numb from the pressure of frozen material. Turning to the fire, he stretched his hands towards it, giving out a sigh of relief.

Another day won. And another meal he got without seeing odd things. The woods were filled with misshapen creatures, sometimes people were missing, and returning – white haired, with dead gazes, almost frozen – but still breathing, like puppets held together by unknown and terrifying force.

Magic. Tiyan spit into the fire, like this gesture could protect him from the spells and mirages that were filling the woods and abandoned villages, sometimes too close to feel safe. His father always told him that Vennklan Valley is still normal enough to live. It was only partially true. The animals were getting wild and running away, so they couldn’t hunt for dinner. Or they were getting closer, mushrooms growing straight from their skin, maws filled with blood, and eyes blind – or at opposite; seeing too much. It wasn’t normal enough to live. It was not scary enough to not leave and settle closer to big cities.

Traitor cities. Fae vassals.

King Marnsul Dal, the ruler of shee, awarded the loyal cities – and the puppet human king – for their bent necks. While smaller villages, which fought longest in the great war, which opposed, not wanting to part with the summer and spring, with freedom and joy – were thrown into dark ages fast and efficiently. Fae knew no mercy over conquered lands.

And people who went too close to Kilyan lands, never returned. Eaten by the magical overgrowth of the shee kingdom. No one knew what could happen with them, if they were killed – or worse. Kilyans could seem kind and amiable like honey, in their ironic way of being, but their calculated ruthlessness was something all humans living in Avras knew all too well – and tried to avoid, if given.

The fae were creatures of old days and old darkness. They possessed skills beyond human comprehension and their hearts were filled with black knowledge and night from the eve of time. People could even disappear from the face of the earth, for them. Fae didn’t need such a far-reaching plan, they didn’t need conquest. They could destroy them so easily. What were their plans then? Why to keep them alive – under their boot, but still keeping their lives? That was something that Tiyan’s mind didn’t embrace.

Magic.

The young hunter’s thoughts immediately ran to the mark he had on the left shoulder. A strange animal, whose tail was coiled around its neck, like strangling it, but the face of the creature, almost human-like, looked barely pained. More cheerful but in a dark way. It was a disturbing image, which looked like a tattoo, but Tiyan never remembered getting it. It just appeared one night, and when he was awake, the mark was there. Tiyan never allowed himself to drink so much to lose consciousness, so he was sure that no one did that to him, when he was after alcohol. What was it then?

He still looked at it with a mix of curiosity and fear, when the mirrors’ reflection was showing it to him, either while he was shaving or washing. It was an odd presence, disturbing one. A sign from whatever demons or gods.

And everytime he looked at it, a faint memory was worming into his mind. A memory he didn’t want. A memory he shouldn’t even remember.

Shadow. Eyes like black holes. A smile within the storm clouds. A raven carrying him through bloodstained plains.

Tiyan shook his head and decided to skin the boar before it started to stink. Or stink worse than it already did.

When he took off the warm jacket and started to prepare knives, he heard a scream from the courtyard. Tiyan wouldn’t be a successful hunter, if his reactions weren’t fast – he took the biggest skinning knife and ran – as he recognized this voice. His sister, Lessa. He spotted her before, when he was entering the house, she was playing with the big guarding dog, who was the best defense against the wild animals this house had and loved them all to death. His mind already started to write fast scenarios, which proved to be true.

Tiyan appeared in the courtyard in a moment, just to see how the furious and maddened dog aims for his sister’s throat. She tried to defend, but was shocked and most of all, was only seven years old.

His father was there too, in his hand – a huge hammer, his expression furious and fearsome. The dog had no chance. Tiyan though, was closer already – but he had only a skinning knife, a skinning knife against an enormous dog, which weighted twice as much as him.

He had to act, quickly. So he did the first thing his inner voice told to do.

Tiyan reached with his hand, slowly, his senses suddenly sharper, like on the hunt.

His lips formed a word, silent, almost too silent for anyone to hear, more even a furious animal.

“Raf.”

It all lasted only three seconds. In one, the dog still tried to bite the girl, in second, he looked at Tiyan. In third, petrified. Like a beast carved in stone.

“Raf,” the hunter said again, the dog’s name. He suddenly felt what runs through the big canine’s head. Pain, confusion, fear. He didn’t want to attack Lessa, something forced him to. Like an aggressive spirit entered his body, controlling him, ordering him to bite till blood, drink the warm liquid and relish on it. The dog was terrified, almost begging Tiyan to stop all of this. The feelings rushed through Tiyan, like a tsunami, like an avalanche, leaving him empty and afraid, cold and lost. He felt blood filling his throat, blood that was not his, or his sister’s. His eyes widened in terror and rage, pushed into his veins and mouth by a bubbling spell.

But this confusion lasted only a few seconds, as well. The dog turned its big head to Lessa, baring its teeth… and then, he fell, violently sent on the ground by the blow of the hammer of Tiyan’s father.

His sister screamed. She was screaming seeing Raf lying dead on her, pinning her with his weight to the ground.

“Tiyan,” Gravir said, glaring at him. His skin was covered with sweat and bloody saliva. He looked like an old god of war who descended from stormy heaven to punish the guilty.

The young hunter looked at him, his gaze absent. His confusion, his mind still feeling the pain of the dog, the dog who was always a good companion, a good guardian, who killed so many beasts, to protect this house. To protect his humans.

“Never do it again. I will manage,” Gravir growled.

Tiyan nodded, like in a trance.

It frightened his father, it terrified even Lessa. It happened again. This… curse. It crawled into him, embraced him with its dark tendrils, and now, he was affected, poisoned. He was like those mushroom-skinned beasts in the woods, tainted – a pariah. But he was also sure that Gravir would not be on time. Raf would kill Lessa, if he didn’t use this darkened malediction. That, though, wasn’t making it less terrifying.

Tiyan looked as Gravir took Lessa in his arms to carry her inside. Their grandmother was gazing from the window, not even afraid, her face bore an odd and quite unsettling expression. His mother stood next to her, putting hands to her mouth, in utter horror. They both were too far to see the attack, but not far enough to see Gravir’s anger and dead body of the dog.

And Raf laying on the wet ground, was a sign of changing times. The magical blight was spreading, and it entered his soul, to pollute it with filth. Tiyan closed his eyes and exhaled.

And followed his family.

The snow was falling, thick cocoon of silence. The tiny white petals mixed with the blood and covered the courtyard ground, burying the dead animal under hushed plaid of shadowed brightness.

Tiyo didn’t remember much of the Great War between the people and the Kilyans of the fae lineage. It was as if a thick fog has covered all his senses; dangerous and blinding, yet – at the same time – sensual and inviting. At least he imagined it this way. He wished strongly for it to be his refuge. He wanted to disappear when fae sellswords were murdering his friends and brothers. He didn’t want to watch as the ones he grew up with fell under the inevitable blows of the cruel Shee. He tried to use his sword but he was too young to do it properly. He shouldn’t have even been there, no one should. He was just another boy used as cannon fodder, another insignificant young life, a thread cut too early. Kilyan mages didn’t even have to enter the battlefield to sweep their enemies from the face of the earth with spells of the mightiness that Tiyo’s people could not even dream of. He could only try not to be brutally killed.

The battle he took part in was particularly vicious. The King of the Kilyans threw huge kritars at the humans, enormous carnivorous monsters with crystal teeth. The beasts tore apart their victims with bony claws, bloodstained double jaws, and teeth resembling sharp diamonds. The fae made sure they were eternally hungry for human flesh. It caused more fear and Kilyans loved it when humans feared them.

Tiyo was twelve at the time but his face was covered with blood and tears that flowed from his frightened eyes. Fear or regret, anger or despair, did it even matter? Where were the saru of the fae who protected the little ones from their demonic brothers? Where were the good beings who promised peace and kept the Dark Folk on a leash?

Sobbing from fear, he threw his useless sword on the ground and reached up to smear the tears with his dirty hands. The fae passed him by, aiming at the adult men whose screams pierced the thick air. Just for a brief moment, Tiyo wondered why he wasn’t attacked as well.

Shortly, a tall fae warrior covered in fog passed by, pausing only to take a peek at Tiyo. He didn’t even make an effort to hide the amused scorn reflected on his face. Tiyo felt piercing anger mounting inside his stomach. Why don’t they attack him? It’s as if he was so easy to get rid of that the act itself wasn’t worthwhile. The birds of prey have already been circling in the air, and their eyes were following not only the dead men lying dead on the battlefield but also the boy. As if they were beckoning him to join the army of corpses, littering the bloodstained ground.

“FIGHT, COWARD!” he heard a yell to his right. A human soldier, covered in the blue blood of the fae, held a sword dripping with the fluid that once ran through some Kilyan’s veins. Tiyo wanted to spark hatred in himself, for everything the Shee represented. Yet, to his surprise, he felt as if he couldn’t. What was happening on the battlefield was simply sad. Humans had no chance of winning and even their burning hatred for the Kilyan kind couldn’t change the fact that they were all lost long before the war had even started.

Tiyo tried to pick up his sword and fight, just as the stranger urged him.

Don’t be a failure. Do something. But his hands suddenly went numb, the strange fog intensified, hitting him with a waft of rank air, and the boy almost fell to his knees. That was when he felt it.

A spell drilling his side. There was no blood, just the distant feeling of pressure and pain. Feeling helpless, he slowly looked up and spotted the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. Faint, almost transparent eyes looked at him coldly. His long white hair moved in the wind and framed a long face, that was characteristic of Kilyans. But it did not convey the rage that usually accompanied the battle between the sworn enemies. It was an idle face. Indifferent, with no resentment. The man had so much contempt in his eyes that Tiyo involuntarily shivered. The penetrating spell continued to roll into his body. A quiet moan escaped his throat, insipid despite the unbearable pain. While the fae was slowly approaching Tiyo, a spear appeared in his hand with slender fingers. The boy thought it was even more beautiful than the Shee who held it.

The Kilyan, silent, beautiful, and indifferent, stood in the middle of the battlefield. Unconcerned, as if he was invincible.

He slowly lifted the spear, right when Tiyo eventually fell onto the bloodsoaked earth. The soil smelled of iron, but it also carried the strange scent of grass that the fae’s blood gave off. “There was not even a blade of grass growing there”, he thought unexpectedly and almost laughed, half-delirious from the pain. Feeling like he was going to pass out soon, numb with pain, he lifted his eyes once again and looked around the battlefield. The kritharas trampled the ground. The dark soil was stained with the blood of fighting armies, intermingling into puddles of blue and red. There was no life here.

He waited for the final blow. The Kilyan recited some words in his ethereal dialect that sounded like liquid sleep. Tiyo didn’t want to fight anymore. He’s had enough. Enough of his father, who told him to fight. He was done with the fae and king Robhar who foolishly thought he could defy magic.

Kill me and take this pain away. The boy curled up into a fetal position, wishing everything around him would finally come to an end.

Then he felt a terrifying cold. Death. The Kilyan hit me, and I’m so bemused that I didn’t even notice.

But after a few seconds, Tiyo realized that he wasn’t dying. He still drew breaths. They were sharp and shallow, but still, unmistakably his chest kept rising and falling. The white-haired fae began to speak to someone, quickly, in a hurry. In response, he received a murmur that might well belong not to a man, but a raging storm. It had a primordial sort of power that scared the boy more than the fight and all the shed blood around him.

“Us’slu man’ki sarra’l.” This time, a soft voice unfolded over Tiyo’s shaky body. He was afraid to look, fearing to see its owner. He felt that this fae was surrounded by cold evil – petrifying cruelty. Unfathomable in its boundless frigidity.

The boy didn’t understand what the Shee said, but suddenly his body became warm, instead of deathly cold. Eventually, the boy dared to lift his eyes but he saw only two hazy spots. One was bright, certainly belonging to the white-haired Kilyan, dressed in white robes. The second one was completely black. The image in front of his eyes began to blur and, for a second, Tiyo saw two black holes instead of eyes; gaping in emptiness, reminiscent of the infinite night. They were deeper than the ocean that his father traveled across on a freighter, a metal colossus that housed thousands of people. Fae constructors didn’t use metal; only light and night. Even the spear held by the Kilyan was created from the pure rays of the sun.

Dark eyes drilled into his soul. The black Kilyan seemed to grow in Tiyo’s mind, reaching the height of a colossus, similar to the ship his father worked at – a soulless monument.

He closed his eyes as the black fae leaned over him. He smelled of flowers and rain-washed ground after a storm.

“Don’t… don’t kill me…”, Tiyo managed to squeal. But the black fae only laughed – it was not a burst of evil laughter at all. It seemed to hold the promise of spring after cruel winter.

“Human child,” said the man in his language of Sorgon, “you have been sent in too early.” The tone of his voice lowered, turning into a whisper when the cold breath of the Shee touched Tiyo’s neck. “But children are precious prey. You should not be here, but I will never let the oath be broken in front of my eyes…”

Tiyo, dazed with the scent of flowers and the man’s soft voice, could no longer restrain his fatigue. He knew that they will kill him, they will surely kill him now…

The boy fainted. The last word that left his lips, as the faintest whisper, was “please”.

“You’re pleading?” amusement rang in the fae’s voice. “I am here to fulfill your plea.”

But Tiyo did not hear him anymore. The battle continued. The fae kept eliminating people at a bone-chilling rate. Yet, he lay still as if surrounded by a protective bubble. He slept like the child he was.

He slept dreamlessly on the ground, while the human empire was being shattered by the Shee forces.

Snow started falling on the now deserted battlefield, thick and freezing. Snow that has always prevailed in the land of Kilyans. The fae kingdom took over the human one and even the weather surrendered.

Someone carried Tiyo. It was someone with eyes black as coal and dark hair resembling raven’s feathers.