silken portal, not so much disappearing as gliding out of existence. The tips of their swords were the last things to vanish. The instant the last of them was through, the portal went dark, revealing behind it only a veneer of highly polished black stone. The desperate crowd banged their fists against it, some weeping, others shouting.
Just before dawn a tocsin sounded in the city and the Unseelie flag was raised upon the obelisk. All was quiet. The crowd at the Port-Herion Lock hesitantly turned away from the dead portal and went their separate wayssome back into the city, their heads hung low; some out into the pampas, not looking back.
Titania is the land and the land isTitania. She reads the song of birds and feels the brush of the plow upon her skin.
Anonymous, 'Ode to Titania'
Today
egina Titania, Fae Queen of the Seelie Lands, Purest Blood of Pure Elves, sat upon her stone chair, chin in hand, swinging her feet. The lights were dim in the throne room, and the sound of her heels clicking against the floor echoed in the gloom.
She looked at her husband, King Auberon, the son of Aba himself, who slouched insensate in his own seat. He had not spoken in centuries, not since she had stolen his power and his mind on the day of their marriage.
'A change approaches, husband,' she said softly. 'Long ago you warned me this day would come, and I scoffed. Now I stand chastened.'
Auberon's head lolled to the side, and he sobbed quietly.
All Gifts are Gifts of Aba, who is God beyond gods.To him who sees clearly, this is not a matter of faith; it is axiomatic.
-Alpaurle, The Magus, translated by Feven IV of the City Emerald
ilverdun sat in the antechamber to the abbot's office, shivering. Tebrit had forced the novice robes over Silverdun's head without giving him the opportunity to dry off first. He was dripping onto the floor.
After a few minutes, Abbot Estiane opened the door to his office and ushered Silverdun in, groaning at the sight of him. The office was cramped, but warm-the abbot was allowed a small brazier in his office, due to his rheumatism. Or, at least, that's what he told everyone. Silverdun knew, however, that Estiane simply didn't like to be cold, and had, in his words, 'spent enough years as a coenobite freezing my ass off for no reason.'
Estiane said nothing for a minute or two, busying himself with digging through the dozens of scrolls and books littering his desk for something in particular, then giving up and reaching beneath the desk for a metal flask, which he unstoppered and handed to Silverdun.
'Here,' he said. 'This'll take the edge off.'
Silverdun took a pull from the flask and was rewarded with a swallow of some of the best brandy he'd ever tasted. 'The queen's tits, Father, where did you get this?'
Estiane smiled. 'We all have our little secrets, Silverdun. Do you think I'd still be running this place after all these years if I didn't have a few strings to pull?'
Silverdun nodded and took another sip.
'You've pissed off Tebrit again, I see,' said Estiane.
'Not a difficult task.'
'Missed morning prayers, did you?'
'I think it was the hangover in particular that got me sent up to you.' Silverdun shrugged. 'Just between you and me, I don't think Tebrit likes me much.'
Estiane waved the thought away. 'Nonsense. Tebrit is simply fulfilling his obligations as Prior to ensure that your novitiate is a period of cleansing, separating you from the things of the world in as complete a fashion as possible.'
He took the flask back from Silverdun and had a nip from it himself before returning it to the desk. 'Oh, who am I kidding? The man despises you. And with good reason.'
'I don't think it's very holy of him to take such pleasure in it.' Silverdun sniffed.
'Allow the man his small comforts. He has a very difficult and thankless job. Believe it or not, you're far from the least holy novice that's ever passed through this temple.'
'Oh, really?'
'I was much worse. Why, during my novitiate I actually snuck a pair of
