The Cursed Blood
kingdoms had different opinions. The Mountain Thanes wanted to construct an army of automatons (you probably know these horrors of magic as elementals) to wipe you all out down to the last woman and child.While the Stone King of the Underworld wanted to flood the surface again and just be done with it. Insisting it was simpler just to let things start over fresh and clean. This idea gained more than a bit of traction in the beginning but was eventually crushed under the enormity of trying to figure out just how to save everything living that couldn’t swim.
The Seven Forest kingdoms of the High Born (Elves), who normally wanted nothing more than to be left alone and save the trees you lot like to chop down so much, were totally ready to march on humanity as a whole, killing or enslaving every last one of you.
Not surprisingly the Orcs loved the idea of a big war, but no one liked the idea of another army of Orcs. Because once they were done with the humans, it was more than likely that they would become quite a big problem for everyone else as well.
The Vampires, who none really trusted or liked (for obvious reasons), wanted to protect but cull their herds of food, but were adamant that such measures be taken to assure that things didn’t get out of hand. This being the one and only time in written history (Feyborn history goes back WAY farther than Human history) that Vampires were the champions of reason and cautioned for restraint on behalf of anyone.
In short, it was a big mess and not a soul was happy until old Agnus Merlin the Arch Wizard, tottered up to the floor with his blue crystal topped staff and pointy hat, offering a solution (between bites of a ham sandwich) that perked up more than a few pointed ears with a spell he had been working on for over a thousand years, which he advised was really an older spell he’d finally perfected.
It had taken ages (Wizards—even Human ones—live an absurdly long time and are outrageously powerful, which is why there is only ever five of them at any one time) but he assured the gathered dignitaries that his pursuit (which many folk, many of whom were in attendance had mocked and ridiculed him endlessly for) had been absolutely worth it in the end.
Merlin warned that the spell was costly, it wasn’t perfect, and to keep it going would have consequences, but all in all everyone agreed it was for the best. Mostly because hordes of Orcs, apocalyptic floods, elemental armies, and world war were just too large and ugly tasting pills for all the Council to unanimously agree to swallow.
It was done the very next year on what you now call Devil’s Night, and tragically the last of Earth’s ancient dragons were hunted, captured, and sacrificed to pay the blood price (dragon blood is an extremely potent magical catalyst—the older the dragon the better).
And so it was done.
The Oldfable spell slipped over the minds and eyes of all humanity. And all of a sudden, away into legend and make-believe went the Elves, Witches, and Vampires, and with them the last golden age of magic ended – at least for the majority of mundane humanity which was going through a very bloody dark age at the time (one of many they’ve had, I’m afraid) that Feydom was more than happy to finally be left out of.
Which brings us to me, of course. The part not a soul among what we now just call “The Fey” are incredibly happy about. I’m (mostly) what they call a Darkling.
A Human born of magic, but with no magical powers, who can see through all magic, but mostly no magic can affect (among other things that most of my kind can do, and others that they can’t).
I know, confusing. Just imagine trying to live with it. It’s quite the headache at the best of times and ‘best of times’ for me are few, which just comes with the territory, I suppose.
Now that you’re likely somewhat confused as to what a Darkling is, I’ll get to the real simple part. What we do. In short, we’re hunters and guardians (At least were supposed to be). Investigating, covering up the Oldfable that shrouds the magical world and protecting mundane humanity and the races from the darker beings and touch of magic.
Which, I have to tell you, can be a royal pain in the neck, and no, that wasn’t a derogatory comment about Vampires. When it comes to them it’s more a migraine from hell than anything else.
I’m really trying not to be racist, but I simply don’t like them. The whole blood drinking thing just makes me queasy, even if 90% of it is willfully donated (yup, they pretty much own the Red Cross). Needless to say, I don’t trust them in the least (trust me I have my reasons), a frowned upon and icky bigotry that has more than once saved my skin.
So, we’ve covered in a few short pages the Fey, the Fable, and I’ve given you a bit of an idea as to what most of my kind do. Not bad considering it’s a very, VERY, VERY simplified summation of over five thousand years of history (give or take a decade or two). I’m pretty proud of that to be honest. However, we’ve got a way’s yet to go.
I suppose it all tragically started when it always does, thanks to Merlin’s dirty little spell, with the way magic seems to just love dark, sinister, lonely nights as equinoxes of power and such.
I was thirteen at the time. It was October. The beginning of it to be precise, on the 3rd. On the day that most of the races of the Fey revere and uphold as a festival day with much feasting and merriment known as Harvestide.
Ironically for me, it is a day traditionally begun in