Cathair nam Marbh {Annasiel}

The roaring in his head blocked out all the sound around him. For a moment, he lost track of the bustle around him, of the rain, of anything that wasn’t that noise. Of all of the times for this to happen, it had to be when he was so far away from the Tower, didn't it? He pressed a hand down his chest, the brocade vest slushing off water down his equally soaked leggings and straight into his loose boots. A sharp sigh escaped his blue tinted lips as his annoyance let the cold around him dip even lower.



As suddenly as the sound had started, it stopped.



There was a piercing silence in his head, and then the sounds of the world slowly flowed back in. He was left with no trace of the voice. He searched his mind, and felt nothing, heard nothing. It left him reeling slightly, but he quickly recomposed himself and looked around. A small group of hobgoblins and brownies were watching the entryway to the alley with glinting eyes. Something had caught their hungry attention.



He breathed out. His eyes landed on a white, drenched figure huddling under the passageway that connected the two buildings over the alleyway. Long hair piled high on top of her hair, the color of gold while soaking wet. Would it be the color of wheat when dry and loose? She stood shaking off a parasol with a frustrated expression on her face. Her clothing clung together in rough folds, the lace soggy and pulling, heavy with rain.



He tried to breathe in and found he couldn’t. He wasn’t particularly struck by her beauty, nor the color of her ice blue eyes. It was something in the air around her, something in her aura that sucked the air straight from his chest. He could tell, no, he just knew that the voice stopped for her. Was it her voice that had haunted him this whole time? She wasn’t Unseelie, nor did she appear to be Seelie. She didn’t radiate the light aura that so many of their Court members did.



Humans had their own magics too, didn’t they? He had never met one of their so-called “witches”, but he’d heard them mentioned by lost travelers before, heard them cursed as though it was their fault the unlucky mortal had found its way there. Was she a witch? Was their magic even capable of something like that?



Sharp, icy blue eyes.



He breathed in a long, harsh drag of air, his shoulders shivering slightly as he watched her move closer, acutely aware of every movement she made. He was so fixated on her, stiff and seated on the edge of the cart, that he paid minimal attention to the crowd of lower Unseelie tucking themselves into corners, teeth grinding and eyes glinting as they, too, watched her.

Oh, poor Agatha. She’d been so excited to open her new stall that afternoon, having finally paid the dues to the Court and built her stand the previous night. She was young and had been wanting to open a spice stall since she'd begun collecting the plants. She was good at it, too.



Unfortunately, she was also incredibly skittish. And as she panicked, drawing back from the stall and screaming back at the young woman, the swarm emerged from every corner of the market. They laughed and screeched, circling her in her white dress, nails tugging on the fabric as the closest hands pulled her down towards the cobblestone. Their intent was clear, to Kailen. She'd be another victim of the Market, her bones and clothes and hair to be sold at someone's cart, her flesh devoured by tiny rock like teeth.



No.



He didn't need to move. The creeping heat swirled outward, evaporating the rain as it fell, leaving the air boiling in the tight alley. Where there had once been sound and a rush of movement, there was now stunned silence. Nothing dared to move until they knew what they had done to displease their Prince. Never before had he intervened, and never would they have expected him to.



He leaned forward where he sat and stared down, smokey eyes cold and full of disdain. If the roiling cloud of heat hadn't given away the depth of his anger, one would think he was looking down at a bug crawling across the ground, one he wished to crush beneath his heel. No such bug existed. His voice echoed through the alley as smooth as silk, with no need for him to raise his voice, "Leave. Leave her and leave here."



His subjects were quick to do just that, falling as they tripped over their own feet, as they shoved one another to make room. Even poor young Agatha slowly made her way out of the alley, looking forlornly over her shoulder at her spices. Kailen subconsciously made a note to see their safe return as he fully focused in on the girl once more. The heat had begun to disperse, allowing the cool and rainy weather back into the Market.

Black eyes traced the damp form as it rushed away from him. He was intrigued by how the girl had brushed off the strangeness of what she'd experienced. At least, he assumed it must be strange for her. Though she might have seemed brisk and unbothered, he was more than familiar with her type. She'd most definitely have a nervous breakdown the moment she was out of range.



"In this rain? You'd be much better off if you came with me. I live just down the way. Might be presumptuous of me, but I'm quite sure you'd like to get out of the rain sooner, rather than later." His words curled at the edges as they floated through the air, a hint of deviousness and a hint of mirth lingering in his voice. A much different tone than the one he'd used with his subjects. If anything, it was almost inviting.



He twirled in the rain and bowed slightly to her. His long, tailed coat clung to the rest of his clothing, the tails wrapping themselves about his tall boots. Even soaking wet, the regal air he gave off was overwhelmingly ridiculous. Kailen made no attempt to hide it, nor did he bother to produce a full glamour, beyond the one he always held so rigidly in place, even in his sleep. As such, the woman would clearly see his strangely bright clothing, now that he'd swept the coat out of the way. Gentlemanly? Certainly. Conventional? Most assuredly not.



He gave her a sharp, almost predatory smile as he awaited her answer. Even if she denied him, she'd never find her way out on her own, even if she happened to be gifted with the sight. Judging by her blonde hair and light eyes, he decided she was most likely of local birth. Unlikely to have come from any of the lands that seemed to be so highly populated with the Sight,- their own fault, to be fair- and therefore unlikely to have it herself. He straightened back out, one leg tucked behind the other, shoulders straight and confident as he leaned effortlessly back into a stance that was designed to tempt humans further into the tìr nan sìthichean.

"My humblest apologies, Sir Stranger, but I really must be on my way. My father would be worried about me - fathers get that way, you know."



He quirked an eyebrow at her very thinly veiled attempt to threaten him off. She seemed to have the wrong impression of the situation at hand. Nevertheless, he bowed to her just as she popped up with, "I won't tell the bobbies. I do promise. Whatever happened here is a secret. I swear on my name."



 I don't believe you've told me your name, Lady. Oh, but I will know it in time. He watched her hurry down the corridor, completely unaware of the fact that the walls had already changed, and that she was stuck within the Labyrinth nan sìthichean. She would never find the exit on her own, and he was certain no one that she would bump into from this point on would assist her. If he let her go about her way, she'd be dead before dawn, claimed by one of his denizens, or maybe there would be no trace left of her. If she were lucky, she'd encounter a high human aspect fae who would keep her as a pet.



The further the girl ran, the louder the voice in his head became, drowning out the actual rain falling around him. He silenced it, tucking it deep in the recesses of his mind once more. Shadows reached out from the edges of the Market, where denizens were slowly returning. They caressed his shoes and his pants as he tipped into them and fell back into the world half a dozen blocks over in the direction the blonde woman had gone. Shadow walking was always a bit more difficult for him than he had noticed it being for Callum or Tristania, but he brushed off the dizziness. He'd reappeared in an alley that was already partially occupied by several fae deigh, their skin coated in sharp icicles and prickly crystalline structures. There were muffled sounds from where they were gathered, and Kailen was quick to realize that they'd captured themselves a stray lost soul. There were traces of clothing scattered about, all shredded, as well as blood and what he assumed to be small strips of flesh. Whatever they had done before his arrival, it hadn't killed the poor thing. One of them was trying to muffle it's screams, or maybe just trying to suffocate it, but it's screams echoed between the fingers and filled the corridor.



He was tempted, in a way, to make them leave, but he decided to let them stay. He didn't particularly care about what they were doing. It didn't bother him, nor did the screams irritate him quiet yet. He avoided looking straight at the scene out of habit- he preferred for those activities to remain untainted by gore in his mind. His mind was rather vivid, and it picked the worst things to recall in conjunction with the feeling of skin under his gloved fingers. He leaned leisurely against the stone wall and straightened his coat, waiting for the sound of footsteps to finish approaching. Perhaps this would convince her to accompany him.



He pretended it had nothing to do with the voice in his head writing little poems to the woman, insisting on finding her again. He'd heard it his whole life, but never had it been so… specific.

The words were unfamiliar, but Kailen could recognize a prayer when he heard one. So that made her religious- all the better. He smirked and stifled a laugh at her. The pair of ice fae continued on making short work of the remains beneath them, unbothered by the woman's scattered praying and collapse. Perhaps they had felt the Prince's surge all the way down here- he hadn't exactly been subtle with that discharge of rage.



Rage? Was it rage? Had he been upset that his subjects had set upon the woman?



Surely not.



"I'm afraid that he can't hear you. You're not exactly in his domain anymore. That, and he's a false idol." The man strode forward slowly, softly tucking his lapels back into place. Dusting the rain off of his coat kept him from looking at her, but he could only feign disinterest for so long. He looked up slightly and saw her huddled on the ground against the wall, and he did the only thing that was sensible to him at that place, at that time. He smiled. He smiled comfortingly, sincerely, and invitingly. He wondered how it must look to her- him smiling while his subjects finished their work on the now silent and still mess behind him. Clearly, she wasn't blessed with the Sight before finding the Market, or she wouldn't be reacting quite so violently.



"Here, in these parts, I suppose I would be the being you'd pray to. Of course, I don't tend to respond to the prayers. I suppose you could pray to the King. I'd recommend against that." He snapped his fingers at the two fae behind him, unfamiliar faces. They were quick to disperse, half floating, half walking away, leaving a trail of ice particles and blood as they did so. Kailen couldn't deny it, especially when the voice in his mind was so politely insisting upon it: he felt bad for allowing her to see the violent acts that had happened in the alley.



Never in his very long life had Kailen felt bad about anything. There was no purpose in feeling guilt for your actions, for things you'd willingly done. You had done them, in full control of yourself, in full control of your path. Feeling remorse didn't change the decision you had made. And yet, it haunted him now, making his chest ache. He extended a hand to her, offering to help her up without words.



"I feel as though I should try again. I am Kailen Ciardha Ealhdun, 4th son of the Unseelie King. Would you perhaps like to come out of the rain with myself, maybe to someplace a little… safer?"