Chapter 22

22.
         Tristian opened eyes he didn't know he had closed, to see the world awash in the most vibrant of colors, colors so dense that it was painful for his eyes to focus on one single hue for too long. It was dazzling, almost awe-inspiring, to the point and intensity where he could almost taste the force upon his tongue.
         In the center of that mix was the Agent and the fairy. The fairy had leapt forward and grabbed the Agent's wrist and from that bond there was the source of the colors. They leapt and fought and struggled. The Agent's face was pinched, but otherwise didn't look under any more strain than usual, while the fairy's face was tense with the effort of countering the Agent's magic.
         "Magent, you have . . . to . . . stop!" the fairy gasped out. All its hair was standing on end, it seemed and light of all sorts flickered up and down the antlers, traveling and jumping.
         "What is he doing here?" Agent One asked calmly, his voice only quaking slightly. "Why is he here?"
         The Dark Lord, who hadn't even flinched when the magical attack came at him, leaned forward slightly, placing both hands on the table. "I was invited here, dear Magent, I come as a respected guest." He glanced at the fairy, his eyes blazing, "Is this how your guests are treated?"
         "Magent, you must . . . understand . . ." the fairy managed to get out, seeming to wrench every word out of his throat, to toss them at the Agent, an effort made in desperation, flinging each word, hoping one would stick. "The council has . . . has to hear . . . both sides . . . if a fair judgement . . . must be . . . made . . . argh . . . please . . ."
         Agent One's eyes flicked from the fairy to the Dark Lord and then back to the fairy again. "Has he pledged not to harm anyone while he is here?"
         Even nearly writhing in pain, the fairy managed to convey an expression of surprise. Colors were still flaring all over and Tristian had to shield his eyes at the brilliance of it all. The Agent's words from before came back to him, but he didn't know what to do, didn't know how to act anymore. Perhaps that was the problem, except when action demanded nothing else, indecision streaked through him. But what could he do?
         "There has never . . . never been a need for . . . a . . . pledge!" the fairy ended his statement with a half scream. The forest seemed to be bending and shifting now, the leaves curling away from the table, as if nature was holding its breath. It was unclear how long the fairy could contain the Agent's power.
         "There's never been anyone like him here," Agent One stated flatly, staring down the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord merely stared back, his face otherwise expressionless. "Make him pledge."
         "Magent . . ."
         "Now!" Agent One barked out. The world sprang into blinding color again.
         Twisting his head, his eyes filled with pain, the fairy turned to the Dark Lord. "Do you pledge to harm none for the duration of this convening, on your honor."
         The Dark Lord considered this for a moment, heedless of the fairy's pain, also seeming not to care about the Agent's anger. "Indeed, I will pledge, if my esteemed enemy makes the same pledge."
         "I do," Agent One said quickly, even as the fairy turned to ask of him the same question.
         "Then it is . . . agreed!" the fairy gasped out, even as all color suddenly faded from the air, making it seem that much less alive, like turning everything into a black and white photograph. The smell of power still hummed in the air. The fairy seemed not so much to release the Agent's arms as to be flung from them and he writhed and shook for a second before sprawling forward against the table. His body heaving, he lay there for a few moments, while both the Agent and the Dark Lord watched him dispassionately.
         Finally, when the fairy had picked his head up, his gaze was caught by Agent One, who smiled pleasantly and said, "Hello there. And just when were you planning on informing me of this guest."
         "The Dark Riders have already approached the fairies with our concerns," the Dark Lord said, sweeping down into his seat, both arms laid across the table. Tristian could see his sword sheathed at his belt and knew he had to get it from him somehow. It would even any fights quite swiftly. "When you arrived, none too quietly I might add, they decided that they might act as mediators for our separate needs and perhaps come to a mutually satifiying conclusion."
         "Ah, I see," Agent One said quietly, too calmly. "Just a friendly little get together to talk out our differences, eh?" He took a deep breath.
         "The Dark Riders have been nothing but respectful of our wishes thus far, Magent," came Michelle's distorted voice and Trisitan started at hearing her speak again, as warped a parody of her real voice it was. Face still blank, she stepped forward, as well as the Johan fairy.
         "And your behavior has been nothing but unseemly, Magent," the Johan fairy stated, disgust and disappointment evident in that bottomless voice. "We expected better of you."
         Tristian looked at both of them, and then back to the Agent. "Are you sure you can't do something for them?"
         "Mm, I was wondering where those two had gotten to," Agent One murmured, referring to the fairies speaking through them, as far as Tristian could tell. Glancing barely at the one fairy still at the table, he said, "I was hoping your fellows would help me on this but since you decided to be so full of surprises today . . ." and he waved his hand, color leaping and then fading into the air, descending into sparkles of crimson.
         The trees nearby rustled and Tristian heard a muffled shout as two figures dropped from them. One hit the ground and didn't move, while the other spasmed, almost mewling in pain, clutching its head and thrashing back and forth. Tristian moved over to see if they were fine, seeing that both were small and appeared to be little men, albeit with pointed ears and drab, dull green clothing. The still one was just staring up at the sky, not blinking or even seeming to breath.
         He heard a small sound near him and spun just in time to catch a collasping Michelle. She went limp in his arms, her breath coming short and fast. For a second, eyes tightly shut, she struggled against him and then thrust herself away from him, letting a small scream escape from her lips.
         "Ah," was all she said, fighting to catch her balance. Shaking her head, she looked around, her eyes alternately focusing and unfocusing before she finally came back to the situation at hand.
         "What . . ." she began to ask, and the realized where she was. "Oh my." Putting a hand to her head, she looked at Tristian, a question on her face.
         "Fairy trap," Tristian said simply by way of explanation, moving over to help Johan, who was swaying on his feet, blinking rapidly.
         "Come back," he whispered to Johan.
         "I . . . I . . ." was all he said, his mouth moving silently, before nearly bending himself with a sudden wrench and a muffled growl before snapping back into shape, nearly knocking Tristian over. Turning away from the other man, Tristian thought he heard him whisper, "Mari," but he couldn't be too sure.
         "Are you all right?" Tristian asked, helping the man stand up straight. The eyes that stared back at him were sad but otherwise clear and sane.
         "All right? No," Johan responded in a near whisper. "But, alive? Definitely." Rubbing his arms as if cold, he stared at the gathered assembly of people, from Dark Lord to Magent to fairy. "For now, that'll have to do, I guess. What's going on?"
         "You and Michelle got caught in a fairy trap, some started talking through you, that being the pair that isn't doing so good on the ground now," Tristian pointed them out and Johan stared down at the two fairies with little compassion, "and the Magent called for a fairy council, the Dark Lord showed up as well, there were some fireworks, and then the Magent broke you out of the trap, which I guess he could have done a long time ago."
         "Then why didn't he?" Johan asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.
         "I was trying to be nice," the Agent shouted over from the table. He had apparently been explaining recent events to Michelle as well. "I figured as long as you were with me you were fine and the fairies would just let you go . . ." he gave a grim smile here, "they stalled a bit too long for my tastes and with the surprise of our new guest, I thought I'd start reminding our new friends that I said I wasn't going to play games."
         "Magent," the fairy said, and his gaze was steely, "you pledged to harm none-"
         "Oh, come off it," Agent One snapped, "I did nothing to them that they didn't deserve already and it was nothing permanent anyway." He looked at the fairy, leaning on one elbow, "Now are we going to quibble over details, or are we going to get down to business?" He sat up straight, staring around, "And besides which, where is the rest of the council?"
         "We are here," came a female voice, soft and drifting. Out of the shadows a lithe figure came out. As the light caught her features, Tristian was struck by how ageless she seemed, and yet how vaguely human those same features were. The face was thin, almost elfin, with gently pointed ears. Her garment was a finely wrought mixture of leaves and branches, which made no sound as she moved to take a seat at the table.
         "My lady," Agent One inclined his head politely. "You were merely watching, I gather."
         "We had to ascertain your identity for sure," a man's voice this time. This time a broad and casually muscular man stalked out. His face was very much like the woman's, though more masculine and two ram's horns curled back from the side of his head. He was clad in a gleaming set of fine chain armor, which also made no sound as he walked. As he sat gracefully down next to the woman, he continued, "Many have tried to pass themselves off as you and yours in the past, Magent, some with great power."
         "I was sure," the antlered fairy said a bit peevishly. "How are they supposed to trust us if we stay constantly hidden?"
         The woman patted his hand gently, "We did not doubt your recognizing the Magent for what he was, dear Hallas, but we lacked your confidence in the matter."
         "If you say so, Sylvania," Hallas responded, if uncertain in his answer.
         "As you probably know by now, Magent," the male said, "matters between the human race and ours have not been well the last few years. Indeed," he said, casting his gaze over Michelle, who had taken a seat near the Agent, and also over Johan and Tristian, who were standing slightly away from the table, "I wonder at the wisdom of your bringing these humans here."
         "I come here as their representative," Agent One said firmly. "Tristian is under my protection, not that he really needs it, and his friends also are under my protection. I fully vouch for them." He made a face and glanced at the Dark Lord, "Though with him sitting over there, I can't see why you're protesting the inclusion of a few humans."
         "We have done nothing to the fairy race," the Dark Lord replied, "while the humans have squabbled with them for years over petty matters."
         "From what I heard they weren't so petty-" Michelle started to say heatedly, but both the Agent and the other fairy cut her off.
         "Nevertheless," he said, "this council is not for bringing up matters that were settled long ago, but new matters relating directly to the present."
         Agent One frowned. "Is everyone here? I could have sworn . . ."
         "Myrin elected to pass from this life a few years ago, we have not as of yet replaced him," Sylvania said quietly, "while Sampras is tending to matters in his realm briefly. Nanri will be along also very shortly." She touched her forehead. "Of Torlot . . . I don't know where he is. Do you sense him, Auburon?"
         Auburon threw off the question with a slight shake of the head. "Probably involved in some study and didn't hear the summoning. I'll tend to him later."
         "May we discuss the matter at hand, then?" the Dark Lord asked with veiled impatience. "If all are present who shall be present?"
         "I suppose," Auburon replied. "I believe you had a proposition for us, now, Dark Lord?"
         "I did," the Dark Lord said. Looking at the assembled table, he said, "While we do not use magic, we respect it, and wish to protect it from further tainting."
         "As do we all," Michelle said, seeming not to care that she was in the midst of powerful beings. Tristian remembered when he had been like that, speaking his mind, almost irrationally sometimes. The times, vaguely recalled, when he had shouted at the LORDS themselves, railing against some injustice, the Agents barely holding him back. And now he stood there silent, not even able to think of where to start speaking, not willing to join the debate himself. When had he started becoming a bystander in his own life?
         "And I think that the only way to keep magic in its purest form is to keep it in the hands of those who respect that purity." He inclined his head respectfully. "That being your august personages and your people."
         Agent One snorted and then started laughing, a thick sound. "Priceless," he said, still laughing slightly. "Simply priceless. And how do you plan to go about doing this?"
         "By eliminating those who do not keep magic pure," the Dark Lord said plainly. He stared directly at Michelle, who tried not to flinch under his cold stare. "By eliminating the human race itself."

* * * * *
         The king's footsteps crunched on broken glass as he walked along his shattered room. Bending down, he picked up the fragment of something that used to be a sort of vase. "This was a wedding gift," he muttered to himself, sighing and casting it back over his shoulder.
         "You're still alive, your Majesty," Agent Two said, still in the same position as before. A chill breeze blew in from the hole in the wall where he had tossed the Dark Rider out the castle. A vague smell of smoke still drifted through the room, carried by the crossbreeze. "That has to count for something."
         "Oh, it does, Magent, truly, it does," the king replied, shifting through some other splintered memories, eventually just tossing them to the floor. They were of no use to him.
         Gingerly he sat down on the edge of his grand bed, wincing slightly when he heard it creak and groan. But it didn't break and he settled more firmly on it.
         "But we lost a great deal here, didn't we? The castle itself is in ruins, beasts are still being found wandering around, and that's not even to speak of what's going on down below." He stared up forlornly at the Agent. "Do you know that it's nearly impossible to get an army together? All the villages are being attacked by these . . . these Dark Riders and the beasts they whip before them." Sighing, he slumped his shoulders. "People call me an optimist, Magent, but I fail to see how we can achieve victory here. The enemy is giving no ground."
         "It'll be close," Agent Two admitted, "but we have a few tricks up our collective sleeves that haven't been tried yet. My ego won't let me admit defeat, not to the Dark Riders at least. I've been through too much crap with those bastards to let them get the upper hand."
         "That is heartening," the king replied with a small smile. "But I have to say, I am most afraid now."
         "Perfectly understandable," Agent Two said cheerfully. "Just don't let it get the best of you, if you can help it. Because if everyone starts to think that, we might as well give the entire land to the Dark Riders on a big ol' plate, if you know what I mean."
         "Have you any word from your brethren?" the king asked suddenly, changing the subject.
         "Ah . . . well, last he checked it . . ." Agent Two spoke slowly, "he was in the fairy lands. And I think he called a council to get their help." There was another bit of information as well, about a guest at the council, but the Agent figured that the less the king knew about that, the better. He was nervous enough about this as it was.
         "The fairy lands," the king said and he gave a dry laugh. After a second, he said, "They hate us, you know. The fairies. They really do."
         "So I've heard," Agent Two said noncommitally, trying to sound neutral.
         "At the last meeting, and I really wished you had been there, Magent," the king added, "the fairies become more and more obstinate. They fail to understand that magic is changing, that each person who uses it changes it ever so slightly. When the fairies were the dominant race, with their long lives and little births, magic evolved little, remaining much the same. But now, with my people, with our short, fast lives, magic changes far too quickly for the fairies to keep up with it." He shrugged.
         "Things change, your Majesty. It happens, and there's nothing you can do about it."
         "In time, I've come to realize that . . . about many things," the king sighed, looking up at the glowing Agent in the half-light. "But the fairies do not, or choose not to. We can no more affect magic than we can change the length of night and day, they think if we just stop using it, then things will go back to the way they were."
         "But they won't go back," Agent Two agreed and the king nodded.
         "But they want it to, so badly," the king continued, "and when I heard your brother went into the fairy lands for their help, it reminded me of something their king once said to me . . . Auburon I believe his name was."
         "We've met," Agent Two said dryly. "Decent fella, though, if a bit set in his ways."
         "Yes, well, I remember what he said to me," and the king was staring at his hands now, twisting them in his lap, staring at them in the fading light, alternating daylight and redlight, "I remember . . ." he whispered.
         Then he stared straight at the Agent and intoned soberly, in the held breath of the silence around them, "He said that he would just as soon see us all dead then see magic become tainted any more than it has."
         And his face was ghostly and garish in the light, perhaps already dead.