Kernoel77
patreon
Chapter 186: Mellow’s Desperation
🕑 Added 2024-03-03 00:14:00 +0000 UTCChapter 186: Mellow’s Desperation
The effect of his name was almost immediate. It resonated with the fae realm differently than other things had. Hospitality itself was deeply ingrained in the fae, a concept each of them abided by. They respected it, enough for the world itself to take that respect and amplify it.
But his name? It was nothing like that. There was not a single fae out there that held association or belief in his name. Why would they, after all? None of them had even hear Yr’Enzel before. There wasn’t nearly as much historic significance behind it.
Instead, though, it was granted by old Uunrahzil. Perhaps their unrelenting belief was enough for this impact?
Mercury chewed that thought over for a moment. His teacher, alone, surpassing the entirety of the fae courts and the structure that had allowed them to last for so long? Despite Dreamweaver being powerful, no doubt, that idea seemed a little far fetched.
So what, exactly, had made his name resonate? Why did the floor underneath his feet shake for a moment? What did this mean for him, both right now and in the future? Why was lady Whisperblossom staring at him so hungrily?
… Actually he knew the answer to the last question, and watched as the lady twisted and stretched, reaching for him with thin, root-like fingers. She almost grabbed him, slowly bringing a mockery of her palms to his face, when Arber stepped forward.
“Aye there, watch yer course, fair lady,” they hummed. In an instant, the fae’s monstrous nature slipped away again.
Her teeth became less sharp, the roots and bark constructing her appendages returned back to forming almost-regular arms. Her eyes took on the regular glow, rather than that hungry, starving glint of desperation.
The fae cleared her throat. Her chin was drenched in yellowy syrup, her hunger still clear upon her features, but she controlled herself. “Well then, Yr’Enzel.” She paused, waiting for that same resonance to happen again, but the world remained silent.
It made her stare even more intense, more hungry. But she had gotten a morsel, now, enough of a taste to want to latch on. So, she seemed torn.
Mercury watched as the tall, proud lady moved ever so slowly. She wiped away the drool, though it hissed slightly where it met her dress, making some of the floral patterns wilt. Then she stood, and watched.
A lot of eyes were on them now, many more than even before. The lady, too, struggled for words. “What,” she eventually said dryly, “pray tell, does this word mean?”
“Oh?” Mercury raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t the fae masters of all words?”
She blinked, twice, then chuckled a hoarse laugh. “I suppose. My words were… uncouth.”
With a faint smile, he shook his head. “No, no, they were entirely fine. But are you prepared to pay the price for the knowledge you would seek?”
Once more, hunger ignited in her eyes. Her voice rose again, the hoarse rasp disappearing, as her humanity crumbled to bits, revealing the barely contained monster within. “Do not play games with me, Visitor.”
Calmly, though feeling a tinge of fear, Mercury smile some more. “I see, so you are not willing to know. Is there anything else, then, that you would like to speak about?”
“Tell me,” she said, without hesitation.
“For a favour.”
The monster recoiled. “Never,” the lady Whisperblossom intoned, her voice high and mighty again, as if looking at a bug.
Shrugging, Mercury sighed. “Fine then, I shall carry this secret to our next conversation,” he said.
She looked at him for a long moment. “I do not bargain in favours.”
“Then name your currency, lady Whisperblossom.”
Another long moment of hesitation. “A secret, one of equal value.”
This time, Arber intervened. “It must be a safe one to hold,” they suggested. “And one that is useful.”
“Use is a part of value,” lady Whisperblossom shrugged. “A harrowing secret without any use is still valuable, simply because it is harrowing. But one with a use? More valuable than that.”
Arber didn’t grace it with a reply, instead glancing at Mercury, as if telling him to make a choice. For a long moment, Mercury regarded the monster behind a thinning veneer. He understood her a little, really.
Hungry for change, for something new. She seemed like she needed a star to light the way. Could he be that? Maybe not. But if she knew his name, he doubted it would make her more dangerous. In fact, she didn’t even seem like this trade would end poorly for him.
Pride. He’d found it in the middle of the monster’s heart. She was proud of her collection; of the secrets she knew. Willing to wager them. And that pride made her unlikely to reconsider another offer, too.
“Acceptable,” he said.
A moment later, the world faded around the four of them. Arber, Alice, lady Whisperblossom and Mercury. His retainer had stayed via virtue of being his retainer, and Alice had simply refused to leave. He saw magic flickering against her skin, her aura clashing, but it was all washed to the wayside soon after.
She remained, unmoved. A small frown found its way onto the lady’s face. “It is hardly an exchange of secrets if you bring your whole entourage.”
He looked at her. A long, impassive look. Could he concede here? Would she try to exploit him? How much faith did he have in her pride being real, not just yet another mask she wore to manipulate him?
Quite confident, actually.
“Arber needs to stay,” Mercury said. Of course he did. The tree seemed to be quite beholden to their duty of keeping him safe. Alice, on the other hand, had mostly acted as a spectator. Perhaps a deterrent.
Then again, sending her out could be seen as a weakness in his entourage, at least by the other fae,
“The imposter must leave,” the lady intoned.
Slowly, Mercury shook his head. “Unacceptable.”
“She cannot stay.” Her words didn’t leave any room for discussion. “The fake-”
For the first time since coming to the fae realm, Alice spoke. “Say it one more time, go on.” Her tone was icy. “Call me fake one more time.”
The lady remained silent.
Mercury decided to take a moment to cut the heavy atmosphere. “I see there is a dislike between the two of you. I cannot force you to trade secrets with who you do not wish to, but Alice is part of my cohort for this visit. If what it takes for this trade to go amicably is her not listening, I am amicable.”
Whisperblossom sneered. “See, ‘Alice’? Even your new hanger-on considers you-”
“Do not insult her,” Mercury warned, and the fae shut her mouth.
Silence hung in the air for another few moments. Allegiances really were fickle in this realm, and he had to make sure to keep his in place. So, ever so slowly, the hostility dimmed, and eventually, Alice turned around in the dome of dark green silence.
A tiny sigh escaped Mercury’s lips.
Then, the lady spoke again. “I swear upon the Hospitality of the First Visit to exchange secret for secret, value for value, upon receiving the meaning of this name unfamiliar to mine ears.”
Once again, a ripple went through the air, and it felt as if it got a little more stifling to breathe, the smell of rot and cut grass spreading through the little dome they found themselves in. It wasn’t suffocating, though, simply noticeable.
Mercury took a moment, collecting <Rainfall> within himself. Then he spoke.
“It means ‘Star of Hope’.”
Lady Whisperblossom regarded him, her pupils dilating as she took a deep breath. A grin spread across her face, impossibly wide, impossibly pleased. “Ah, yes. Of course, that makes sense… but whose-”
“I would like to finish the trade,” Mercury added, interrupting her thoughts.
She looked at him, seeming like she’d entirely forgotten he was there for a moment. “Right, yes, yes, of course. You are owed your due.” She paused, thinking. “Something of equal value… how many people know this meaning of your name?”
“Few.”
“Hm. Let me think.” She paused once more, her eyes drifting to Alice. The dark green of the dome around them also hovered around the fae’s ears, making sure she heard none of the conversation. “Yes,” lady Whisperblossom eventually said. “That will do.”
“Change is coming,” she told Mercury. “To this realm. It has stood in decay, a festering wound for hundreds upon hundreds of seasons. Now, the time has come. There will either be ruin, or uprising. The old ones, the rulers upon empty thrones, the deserted courts, are stirring. Peace and quiet will not be everlasting, for nothing ever is.”
With that, she was done, turned around, and dropped the green field. Her mask was expressionless once more, leaving Mercury in the open ballroom to think about what she’d said.
“So that’s cryptic,” Mercury muttered once the dome dissipated.
Arber gave him a look, then a chuckle. “Matey, what’d you expect? You’re buying secrets from secretive schemers.”
Mercury sighed. “Fair enough. Still, any idea about the reaction to my name?”
The tree gave him a long, impassive look. “Of the lady or of the world?”
“I mean the world, yeah. You saw how when she said it there was nothing?” he asked.
Alice nodded. “Maybe it doesn’t recognize it if the person who says it doesn’t get the meaning?”
“No,” Arber shook their head. “That’s not it. People can still talk about Hospitality without realizing the implications.”
There was another moment of silence until Mercury shrugged. “Oh well. Not like I can do anything about it. Seems like I made an impression with it, though.”
“Oh, wouldn’t you know,” Arber said with a giggle. “People have been dying to talk to you - not literally, I mean. Though some are straying close to… eh, walking the plank. If you catch my meaning.”
Mercury did and simply nodded, enjoying the momentary, relative quiet. The party around him was, finally, in full swing again. Of course, eyes were on him, but really, he doubted there would be a moment he wasn’t being watched. Luckily, though, none of the gazes felt suffocating.
Either the fae were holding back, which seemed likely due to it being his First Visit, or he was simply powerful enough to withstand them. That second point seemed somewhat unlikely. Sure, his personal specialty seemed to lean somewhat into fae magic about belief and such but.. It wasn’t a perfect fit.
Though he definitely had more faith in his defence than his offense. And honestly, he’d like to keep it that way. Mercury didn’t really have any interest in learning a whole lot of mind manipulation.
Even right now, most of his “offense” was more or less intimidation via appearing in someone’s dreams or giving them nightmares. He was… somewhat okay with making people feel fear. It felt more like a warning and less like he was tricking them or taking free choice away.
Now those were things he had far less respect for. Tricking was already kind of mean spirited, and depending on how far fae tricks went, well, as far as he knew they often went beyond simple mischief. Taking away someone’s choice…
The thought almost made him gag. That was why he had instantly antagonized bishop Nemo. No one should ever touch his mind.
Feeling his mood sour, Mercury looked to Arber. “Is there anything else I should be getting done?”
His retainer looked at him. “Aye, always more to do, cappy. Dozens wanting to talk - mostly just to make conversation at all. I’m getting the feel that you might be having a long page ahead of you.”
Mercury let out a soft sigh. “Well. Nothing that I wasn’t expecting.”
Alice smiled faintly in understanding. Actually, why hadn’t she been approached much? She looked back at him, and the smile faded. Ah, yeah, he got it. They didn’t think she fit in.
Well, whatever. She’d been kind to him, giving a warning and even a short explanation, so he would not shun her, even if the fae did. They wanted to talk to him, they’d have to deal with her.
“So, would you like to hold another conversation?” Arber eventually asked as they made their rounds.
Mercury had just been letting his eyes wander around, taking in the mystical place. The dances were strange and otherworldly, the fae’s shells twisting in ways humans never could, simply due to being built from bones.
Frankly, he was surprised that quite a few of the fae had adopted humanoid guises. Of course, far from all of them, but humanoids were more common than most other animals he was familiar with. He hardly saw any other felines around.
There were plenty of otherworldly things though. Like how Celash had been a cloud of dust, for example. Flowers which swayed, communicating without words. Things that Mercury could only compare to the accretion disks around black holes. Some people who seemed like a toddler had strung together building blocks haphazardly.
And, of course, almost all of them shone with iridescent colours beyond what Mercury had been able to see before. It was honestly hard to ignore them, since often those colours would meet others and spark or mix. It was bright and overwhelming, and frankly he felt like he could feel the world come loose at its seams if he looked closely enough.
His only saving grace was that his bubble of <Rainfall> mostly kept smells from hitting his nose, because the air was definitely not suitable for fleshy things like him. Which, once again, was mostly within expectations.
Still, despite the suffocating presences all around him, Mercury managed to take a deep breath, simply conjuring the air up himself. He even added a sprinkle of <Ice Magic> to make himself pleasantly cool.
“Sure, I can probably handle someone else now,” he replied to Arber.
The tree gave a slow, measured nod. “Alright then. I suppose so you don’t look like you’re favouring some landlovers over the others, I might need tah prioritize some people from Scorch or Mellow. I think Mellow would do you better now, though.”
Mercury didn’t exactly know what those were, but guessing the seasons theme, Scorch was probably summer, and Mellow must’ve been fall. And given how the fae seemed to exaggerate the qualities of their associated season… someone from summer might be just a little much to handle.
Instead, he just nodded. “Sure, we can do that.”
With that short confirmation, Arber allowed yet another person to step closer. There was still an unusual absence of fae around Mercury, and honestly, he truly was thankful for it. And he would wager that most retainers could not have managed it, either. Arber had truly been a good fit for the role.
For a few more short seconds, there was silence, until a storm of colourful leaves appeared in front of Mercury. It was almost strange, first only a single one, that doubled when it hit the floor, then those doubles again. Half a dozen seconds later and there were dozens of colourful leaves around him, most sticking to reds, oranges, yellows and browns, but a few went beyond those, too.
A couple purple leaves darted around the storm, almost always with their flat side pointed towards him. They seemed like… eyes? Then a ripple went through the cloud, and it reshaped itself.
Each singular leaf was still perpetually falling, except for four, tiny purple ones, locked in place in the middle of an oval of foliage. Yes, certainly eyes, then. The figure took on shifting horns and a tail, too, but kept all its other features indistinct. Even the head still moved around, not attached to anything in particular.
It darted in front of Mercury. “Visitor,” a voice greeted from there.
Mercury blinked, entirely unable to place the sensation. It was as if a chorus of cicadas had chittered the meaning into his ears. But the surprise faded quickly; he had seen plenty of weird things in this world by now.
So, after taking half a moment to regain his composure, he replied. “Leafstorm,” he said, giving the fae the first name that came to mind.
The head paused, then tilted, which created the strange effect of leaves pouring off its horns in droves, since they no longer fell through the rest of its body. The voice sounded… pleased. “I like.”
“You enjoy Leafstorm?”
“Yes. Very. Is mine?” It asked, its head tilting the other way. Its movements were quick, and it eyed Mercury expectantly.
He thought for a moment, then agreed. “Sure, Leafstorm can be your name.”
Now, its aura shifted. Before, it had been small, contained around its body, imbued with the smell of a rainy fall day. Now, it smelled of a sunny fall day with whipping winds, like the first time in the year to wear a sweater. It seemed… pleased.
“Acceptable,” the fae said. Then it paused. “Ah. Not why we here. Negotiations. Questions? Yes, questions.”
Mercury regarded it for a while. Leafstorm seemed… scattered. Like it was constantly torn a hundred different ways. Skittish, maybe. Not necessarily afraid, though. “Go on?” Mercury asked.
It seemed to pull them back to the conversation at hand. “Ah yes. You. Mercury?”
“Yes, you can call me Mercury.”
“Good. We from Mellow. You talk to trees?” Its eyes flitted towards Arber.
For a second Mercury also eyes his retainer. “I suppose. I can see them, at least. Arber chose to talk to me of their own will.”
The tree nodded. “I did. I was surprised to be spied, though. Usually you’d need a crow’s nest and a darned good telescope for it.” They paused, then quietly added. “Not that a crow’s nest would really help.”
“Yes. Special skillset. We need. Mellow needs,” Leafstorm voiced. The chittering was more intense. “One of our trees. Homes. Spirit gone.”
Mercury glanced at Arber, and they seemed… confused. Their featureless face was the same as always, but he saw it in the shift of their aura, understood it instinctively. This was news, then.
“And what would I receive in exchange?” he asked.
“Favour. Request it now?” What Leafstorm said was fractured, almost desperate. But it didn’t seem malicious. Offering a favour, even one that he should request right now, was nice.
And it seemed like a good gig. First, he could establish more connections, find out more about the state of the realm. He knew it was in upheaval and changing. Given the fae’s tone, the spirit disappearing must have been rather recent, too. Could it have to do with what lady Whisperblossom had told him?
There was a good chance. This was the fae realm, after all. Coincidences were rather rare here. And even if it was entirely unrelated, this would still let him make allies without really offending anyone. He needed allies.
“What if I fail?” Mercury asked.
“Cost us and yourself time,” Leafstorm huffed, seemingly disappointed at the notion of failure. “Nothing else. No favour, though.”
Another lenient bit to this deal, then. It smelled like… either desperation or a trap. “How will my safety be guaranteed?” he asked.
“First Visit. Retainer?” It glanced at Arber.
The tree slowed momentarily, thinking. “Unlikely. The courts will want Mercury available for his First Visit. Going now would create enemies you cannot afford. Also, my power is diminished outside of this vessel.”
Mercury glanced back at the storm of leaves. “A promise of protection.”
Alice reacted, this time. Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. It seemed such a promise was a big deal, then. Arber nodded. “About the best deal ya could get, Mercury. Promises are not easily broken. If they are, a debt is incurred.”
Given the emphasis on “debt”, Mercury was sure that, too, was a big deal. Probably in a similar way to a favour, though favours were able to be refused or weighed. Debts had to be repaid, then?
“This seems acceptable. I shall seek to communicate with your tree spirit during my second visit,” Mercury decided.
Leafstorm shifted, their tail whipping through the air, smacking into the floor with a soft crack as the leaves it was made from dispersed. “Acceptable,” the chittered, their form already reforming and yet dissolving at the same time.
A moment later, they were gone.
“Well, Mercury,” Arber hummed, “seems like you got yourself yer first bit of work, ya scallywag.”
Comments
Lump-93
Looks like mercury might get into some more realm wide shenanigans 🤣
Anton Braun
Work work.
