Faerie Feast
The feast was a wonderful affair. Low couches with the softest cushions Ardri had ever felt were carefully placed around the tables. Sam was seated next to him, though Ardri got the feeling that normally a human wouldn’t even be invited to this sort of thing unless they were the entertainment. Fortunately it didn’t seem as if Sam even noticed because his eyes were round with awe as he gazed out over the whole room.
Hundreds of Folk were gathered to dine with them. From Dryads and Elfs to Goblins and even an Ogre or two. No giants were in attendance, not that they would have fit into the Hall, but there were a number of pixies fluttering near tables sized specifically for them. There were also several hundred more Faeries with forms each more fantastical, and less human, than the ones who came before.
Long tapestries were hung from the high walls, which seemed to be of some kind of black polished marble with gold veins. Woven into the tapestries themselves were images of Faerie’s long history. Various Courts were represented as well as notable figures. Ardri could see the Crowns appearing in more than one of the tapestries. The ceiling of the hall was not really a ceiling at all, but the upper branches of huge trees that spread out so thickly at the top that the sky was entirely obscured from view, and great crystalline fruits hung from the branches and shone brightly to shed their warm light down upon the tables below.
All along the hall the trunks of the trees were arranged in the fashion of pillars, and the tables were places in rows on either side of these, leaving a single path up through the center to the dais where Ardri, Sam, and the Lord of Autumn were sitting with various other Lords of the City. Nod was sitting at a lower table, but when Ardri looked for him, he smiled and waved, appearing pleased when Ardri waved back.
Two great doors stood at the other end of the hall, carved from some strange silver wood. The Dryads whose trees had been given to make the doors, stood calmly on either side, their silvery skin in contrast to the deep vermilion of their hair.
Without any visible signal or sign, the two dryads reached out and pulled open the doors, revealing hundreds of stone statues. Each was exactly the same, a well dressed young man with a waistcoat, silk trousers, and a cravat all made from the same stone as their bodies. And each bore a single red jewel at the place where the cravat would normally be pinned and it glowed softly. It was these jewels that bore the enchantment that allowed the stone to move.
The statues... or perhaps they were servants, thought Ardri to himself, swept into the room bearing large trays overflowing with food and drink. There were sauces to dip into or to pour over food, breads with every nut or herb that had ever been harvested or collected, pastries with every kind of candied fruit or jelly. One tray revealed, once its lid had been removed, an entire miniature fountain of hot melted chocolate drink that could be ladled into goblets.
A tray was set before Sam by one of the stone servants, who gave him a friendly smile. It overflowed with fruit of all kinds. From the freshest strawberries and red currents to slices of oranges and lemons and apples. There were cherries and quinces and apricots, pomegranates, peaches, melons, blackberries, raspberries, and a hundred other fruits and berries that even Ardri couldn’t recognize that came from both Faerie and Earth.
Meats still sizzling in their own juices and the dressings they’d been coated with were set down on the tables and expertly sliced then and there. There was something of everything Ardri had ever heard of. Potatoes cut and spiced and baked to trays and trays of more kinds of cheese than one could try in a hundred years. A memory of the Sage sprang up into Ardri’s mind and he smirked at the thought of the strange Faerie getting his hands anywhere near these plates of cheese, and the sheer mortification the Faeries of the city would have at his lack of decorum.
One of the trays held an entire castle made from marzipan and other sweet confections made from honey or ground almonds. They were colored with edible dyes from every fruit imaginable to give the impression of a realistic natural scenery made entirely from sugar.
Stews and soups with savory vegetables, meats, and roots steamed from their bowls. There were strong smells of spices like cardamom, silphium, pepper, ginger, mustard, cinnamon, clove, nutmeg, and saffron... as well as herbs like dill, coriander, cumin, laurel, lovage, rue, mint, mustard, oregano, savory, and myrtle. Ardri was sure that he could smell nutmeg in the roast quail he had in front of him.
Drink flowed freely from jugs into silver goblets. Wines of every hue and strength, some as new as the day before yesterday, some hundreds or even thousands of years old, carefully aged to perfection. Meads were either honeyed or spiced and made from clever mixtures of fruits, herbs, or roots. Even those who chose to drink only water were given springwater, cold as ice and so fresh that you felt like you may never need to drink again because your thirst would be quenched for all time. There was everything one could imagine here, everything except... Ardri grinned and leaned near to Sam. “Nothing here quite comes close to Pizza, does it?” Sam, who had been almost in a trance with his wide eyes fixed upon the food, blinked and suddenly laughed. “No,” he said. “I guess not. Maybe humans have perfected some foods after all.” As they ate, Nod stood to speak with someone in the shadows for a moment before stepping out to address both the crowd as well as those seated at the dais.
“Esteemed Guests, blessed Folk, and Lords and Ladies of Faerie. Tonight’s entertainment will be by the gracious Cnó Léana. They have agreed to sing for us.” The great doors opened as he spoke and through them came what Ardri first thought was a horse. Their mane was dark and tangled with water weeds as it hung down long enough to trail upon the floor with the hair of the tail. They were a dark creature, not quite black, but rather the color of a deep riverbed on a night with no starlight or moon to offer illumination. Only their eyes betrayed their nature as something more than a shadow or a shade, those eyes burned bright with a wicked and laughing fire, something that delighted in death and drowning.
Water dripped from her as they made their way toward them. The hall fell slowly silent, Faeries turning to watch when they passed them by. A Kelpie, thought Ardri as he too kept his eyes upon them, that is what they were. He’d never met one in person, but he had heard of them, Faeries who drowned mortals for daring to come near them, yet finding pleasure in luring them in regardless. When at last they stood before the dais, Nod nervously bowed and spoke again. “The Crowns of Light” he said, naming the song they would be hearing, before stepping away to let the Kelpie face them alone. The Faerie opened their mouth to begin the song and all resemblance to a horse ended swiftly as their jaw kept opening wider and wider, far past that of any true equine. Filled with jagged sharp teeth, their smile was grotesque and frightening, and Ardri heard Sam’s intake of breath beside him and put his hand out to comfort him.
Their fingers found one another and entwined under the table, the comfort of being together enough to ward away the fear this Faerie seemed to radiate.
But when the song began, the voice was not at all what Ardri had begun to expect. It was a voice neither male nor female, lying somewhere distantly in between and yet beyond either. It was a voice that reminded one of how a mountain stream trickled down to join a thousand others in a vast river that led through lake and loch, on a journey to the far distant sea. It was a beautiful voice, one that conjured visions from the words it sang. Those words were not in any human language, but were of Old Faerie, a tongue so ancient that none knew its birthplace. Yet even if you were to hear it, you would know its meaning, for it is the language of the world. The tongue of clear laughing streams and whispering bogs, it is the the tongue of the breeze in the trees and the distant dance of thunder at the edge of a storm. The sky was blue so long ago, just like it is today. A golden sun would set aglow the twilight skies so grey. A Faerie King we knew of old beneath the trees of green; he was as kind as he was bold, both eye and wit were keen. They say he came from far beyond, from some forgotten land. A realm where daylight never dawned, nor starlight kissed the sand. Across the sea he came alone o’er glass-like waters deep. While far below at depths unknown strange creatures lay in sleep. Fur blacker than a starless night, his eyes were ashen grey. His four arms reaching for the light of sun across the way. Upon the shore he journeyed far towards the rising dawn. There he first saw day’s brightest star and to its light was drawn. He wandered far, he wandered near, he walked through quiet glade, he flew with bird, he ran with deer, and in the forest stayed. His hammer fell like ringing bell upon the anvil’s face. A fire he kindled in the dell let shadows dance with grace. He stole the moon and stars and sun, and brought them down to earth. And though his work had just begun, his soul was filled with mirth. A crown he carved from crystal spire, and placed the stars within. It sparkled like a dancing fire which seemed to leap and spin. And with the moonlight’s silver glow, that made the heavens bright. he shaped it like a river’s flow; another crown of light. The sun he bound with spell and word and took each endless ray, and these he made a circlet gird, to drive the dark away. When finally the work he ceased, let hammer fall aside, upon the crowns his eyes did feast; his heart was filled with pride. But then the very earth cried out, in final endless shade, refusing thoughts of deathless sleep, before the price was paid. The valleys cracked, the mountains broke, and even forests fell, the streams and springs were draining fast, into some darkened well. The Faerie King, or so it's told, he fled back to the shore, where once he’d come from worlds so old to search for something more. He pushed his boat into the swell of waters once serene; his every word a prayer or spell in fear of things unseen. We know he traveled onward then, though where we cannot say. Cross darkened seas or twilit glen, through trees of silver-grey. And think of him, that ancient King, his glory and his dread. Three crowns of light beside him sing of worlds he left for dead. He came at last to Faerieland, before it bore that name. And there he forged a kingdom grand and did his rule proclaim. Upon one morn we found him gone, no note to tell his tale. Some say by guilt he had been drawn along some other trail. Where he now wanders, few can tell; not sun, nor moon, nor shade. And only silent stars know well just where our King has strayed.
The song continued after that, chasing after the three powerful crowns as they made their way through countless lives and eventually were hidden away after the wars to prevent their misuse. But Ardri had gotten lost in thought, trying to piece together the fragments he knew about the different crowns and their long history. He was still thinking about it when they returned to the home of the Elf they were staying with late that night; when the very first rays of dawn were just beginning to show themselves on the distant horizon beyond the mountains.