Chapter 29- Fallen and Found

Dungeon Déjà Vu

Liam’s POV

As the guards dragged me through the familiar corridors of the Seelie Court, I couldn’t help but appreciate the irony of my situation. Here I was, the prodigal son returned, though certainly not by choice. The opulent tapestries and shimmering crystal walls that had once been the backdrop of my childhood mischief now seemed to mock me with their unchanged beauty. I half-expected to see my younger self dart around a corner, arms full of stolen pastries from the royal kitchens.

“I don’t suppose we could stop by my old room?” I quipped to the stoic guard on my left. “I’ve got a few decades worth of laundry to pick up.” My attempt at humor was met with a grunt and a sharp yank on my chains. Tough crowd. Then again, I’d never been particularly popular with the palace guards, even before my epic gate-crashing fiasco. As we descended deeper into the bowels of the court, the air grew thick with the scent of old magic and stale regret. Ah, the dungeons – my home away from home. At least this time I wouldn’t have to worry about making small talk at awkward family dinners.

The dungeons of the Seelie Court were a far cry from the dank, rat-infested pits of human castles. No, the Fae had a particular flair for making even imprisonment uncomfortably beautiful. Crystal walls pulsed with a soft, eerie light that seemed to suck the warmth from your very bones. The air hummed with ancient magic, a constant reminder of the power that kept beings like me firmly in check.

As they shoved me into a cell, I couldn’t help but smirk at the familiar runes etched into the floor. “Ah, I see you’ve redecorated. Love what you’ve done with the place.” The guard’s only response was to slap a pair of delicate, almost jewelry-like cuffs onto my wrists. I felt my magic recoil, retreating deep within me like a sulking child. Iron might be the bane of lesser Fae, but the Seelie Court had far more sophisticated ways of neutering a troublemaker’s powers.

With the cell door sealed, reality came crashing down like a poorly constructed house of cards. I’d been so close – mere inches from freedom. Now? Well, now I was royally screwed, pun fully intended. The standard punishment for breaking banishment was… well, let’s just say it made my previous sentence look like a slap on the wrist. Permanent exile, stripped of magic and memories, or worse – being turned into one of those tacky garden statues the Queen was so fond of.

But surely they wouldn’t go that far, right? I mean, I hadn’t exactly come waltzing in of my own accord. The Iele’s involvement had to count for something. And then there was the whole ‘accidental binding of a saint’ situation. That had to pique their interest, didn’t it?

As I paced the confines of my crystal cage, my mind raced through potential arguments. Maybe I could spin this as a noble quest to save an innocent (mostly) human from an eternity of Iele debauchery? Or perhaps appeal to their sense of superiority – after all, wouldn’t they want to keep tabs on a newly discovered saint instead of leaving her in the hands of those forest-dwelling party animals?

I ran a hand through my hair, grimacing at the lingering scent of that cursed fountain. “Come on, Liam,” I muttered to myself. “You’ve talked your way out of worse. Probably.” All I needed was a chance to plead my case. Preferably to someone who wasn’t still holding a grudge from that unfortunate incident with the Queen’s prize-winning rosebushes and a barrel of nectar.

Settling onto the uncomfortably ornate bench that passed for a prison bed, I wondered how Kate was faring. I knew Kate was sharp enough to realize something was wrong when I didn’t return immediately. Knowing her, she might start a war with the Iele if they did not return me right away. I just hoped she could hold out a little longer. After all, I had a reputation to uphold – and being rescued by a fledgling saint would be downright embarrassing.

As my eyes adjusted to the dim, pulsating light of the dungeon, I realized I wasn’t alone in this crystalline purgatory. A few cells down, a figure hunched in the corner, their form flickering like a faulty hologram – an Unseelie spy caught during the chaos I’d inadvertently caused. Our eyes met, and I swear I could feel the weight of their hatred even through the magical barriers.

“Well, well,” a raspy voice called out, “if it isn’t the princeling who couldn’t keep it in his pants – or the gate, for that matter.” I turned to see an older Fae, his once-resplendent appearance now haggard and worn. Alfric, if I remembered correctly. He’d been a captain in the Queen’s guard, until…

“Alfric,” I acknowledged, trying to keep my voice steady. “I see time hasn’t been kind to you.”

He sneered, pressing closer to the crystal barrier of his cell. “No thanks to you, boy. Your little ‘prank’ let those Unseelie bastards through. Half my squadron was seriously injured that day. Some of us never fully recovered.”

Guilt churned in my stomach, but I pushed it down. Now wasn’t the time for a pity party. “I never meant for anyone to get hurt,” I said, the words sounding hollow even to my own ears.

A bark of laughter echoed from further down the corridor. “Intentions don’t mean shit when you’re dealing with forces beyond your control, pretty boy.”

The guards exchanged glances, clearly enjoying the show. One of them, a young sprite barely old enough to hold a spear, looked at me with a mix of awe and disgust. “Is it true you rerouted the gate to a human music festival?” he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

His older companion cuffed him on the back of the head. “Don’t engage with the prisoner, rookie. Especially not this one. He’d sell his own grandmother for a chance to escape.”

I gasped in mock offense. “I would never! Granny’s far too valuable on the black market.”

The older guard’s face darkened. “You think this is a joke? Your little stunt caused serious injuries. Good Fae are still dealing with the consequences of your recklessness.”

The weight of his words hit me like a punch to the gut. I’d spent three eons trying to forget, to run from the consequences of my actions. But here, surrounded by the very beings I’d hurt, there was no escape from the truth.

As the guards moved on, continuing their rounds, I slumped against the wall of my cell. The accusations of my fellow prisoners echoed in my mind, mixing with the faces of those I’d seen injured that day – and my sister’s scar, a permanent reminder of my failure.

I paced my crystal cage, my gaze drifting to Alfric in the neighboring cell. His left arm hung limply at his side, and I noticed a faint, sickly green tinge to his skin that hadn’t been there before my exile. It pulsed slightly, like a heartbeat gone wrong.

“Still bothering you, eh?” I asked, nodding towards his arm.

Alfric’s eyes narrowed. “As if you care. Demon venom isn’t exactly a scraped knee, princeling. No amount of Fae magic can touch it.”

I winced, remembering the screams that had echoed through the court that day. Demon attacks were rare, but when they happened, the wounds they left behind were… problematic, to say the least.

The younger guard, apparently unable to contain his curiosity, piped up again. “I heard the healers are still trying to find a cure. Is it true that it spreads if left untreated?”

His companion shot him a warning glare, but Alfric answered anyway, his voice bitter. “Slowly, but yes. Give it another century or two, and I’ll be more demon than Fae.”

As they continued talking, my mind raced. Kate’s healing abilities flashed through my thoughts – the way she’d mended my wounds after our encounter with the demon hunters. Could her saintly powers be the key to healing these lingering injuries?

For a moment, hope surged through me. This could be my ticket out of here! If I promised the court access to Kate’s healing powers, surely they’d have to listen to me. Maybe even lift my banishment entirely.

But as quickly as the thought came, guilt followed. Kate wasn’t some tool to be used or bargained with. She was… well, she was Kate. Fierce, independent, and definitely not the type to appreciate being offered up as a magical cure-all to a bunch of stuffy Fae nobles.

I shook my head, trying to clear the tempting thoughts. No, I couldn’t use her like that. But perhaps… perhaps there was a way to help without compromising her autonomy. I just needed to figure out how to play this right.

Sitting in my crystal cell, I thought about the mess I’d left behind. Not just the injuries and the chaos, but the political upheaval as well. My family’s reputation had surely taken a hit, and I could only imagine how thrilled my mother must be about having to step into my place on the council.

The council of 13 – a pretentious bunch if you asked me, but then again, no one was asking the disgraced son lounging in the dungeons. Every 10 eons, like clockwork, the families would shuffle their representatives. It was supposed to be my turn now, a chance to prove myself worthy of my family’s name. Instead, I’d gotten myself banished, leaving my family to deal with the fallout. Since Rosebud was still a child and my father’s term had just ended, it clearly fell to my mother to take on the role instead of me.

I glanced over at Alfric, wondering what could have possibly landed the once-proud captain of the Queen’s guard in here. His fall from grace clearly wasn’t entirely my fault, but I couldn’t help feeling a twinge of guilt. “So, Alfric,” I called out, unable to resist poking the bear, “what brings a decorated officer like yourself to these luxurious accommodations?”

Alfric’s eyes narrowed, his face contorting with a mixture of rage and… was that shame? “Mind your own business, princeling,” he snarled. “You’ve been gone a long time. Things change.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, the sound echoing off the crystal walls. “Clearly not that much, if we’re both enjoying the court’s hospitality.”

As Alfric unleashed a string of curses that would make even the Unseelie blush, I leaned back against the wall, my mind racing. I needed to find a way out of this mess, and fast. The next council rotation wasn’t for another 7 eons, and I had a feeling my family wouldn’t be too keen on waiting that long for their prodigal son to return.

The image of Kate flashed in my mind again, her healing powers a tempting solution to so many problems. But using her as a bargaining chip left a sour taste in my mouth. There had to be another way, a solution that didn’t involve throwing her to the wolves – or in this case, the opportunistic Fae nobility.

I lounged in my crystal cell, trying to look as nonchalant as possible, when the older guard finally broke the silence. “Alright, princeling, out with it. Why in the name of all that’s sacred did you come back? You knew what would happen.”

I flashed him my most charming smile. “Would you believe me if I said I missed the ambiance? The court’s crystal spires, the backstabbing politics, the constant threat of being turned into a garden ornament…”

The guard’s expression hardened. “Cut the crap, Liam. You’re not stupid, despite your best efforts to prove otherwise. What are you really after?”

I hesitated, weighing my options. Mentioning Kate was out of the question, but perhaps I could fish for information without revealing too much. “Let’s just say I’m on a… quest. Ever heard of the Temporal Tether?”

The guard’s eyebrows shot up, and even Alfric turned to look at me with renewed interest. The Unseelie spy in the back, who had been silent until now, let out a low whistle.

“The Temporal Tether?” the spy called out, his voice a raspy whisper. “Now that’s a name I haven’t heard in a long time. What could a disgraced Seelie princeling want with a myth?”

I shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “Oh, you know, just expanding my historical knowledge. Thought I’d brush up on some Fae legends during my extended vacation.”

The spy’s eyes glinted with curiosity. “Interesting choice of bedtime reading. Perhaps we could… trade information? I might know a thing or two about the Tether, but I’m far more interested in how exactly you managed to tamper with the gate. Such knowledge could be… valuable.”

I felt a chill run down my spine. Of course, the Unseelie would be interested in that. “Sorry, pal,” I said, forcing a laugh. “That particular bit of stupidity is staying locked up tighter than we are.”

The spy leaned forward, his form flickering slightly. “Come now, Liam. We’re all friends here. And friends help each other out, don’t they? Tell me about the gate, and I’ll tell you why the Temporal Tether is considered nothing but a fool’s errand.”

I could feel the guards watching our exchange with rapt attention. This was dangerous territory. “How about you go first?” I suggested. “Consider it a show of good faith.”

The spy chuckled, a sound like dry leaves rustling. “Very well. The Temporal Tether is said to be guarded by trials of virtue – the seven capital virtues, to be precise. Chastity, temperance, charity, diligence, patience, kindness, and humility. No Fae has ever passed them all.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Well, that explains why it’s still out there. We’re not exactly known for our virtuous nature, are we?”

The spy’s eyes narrowed. “Indeed. Which begs the question – why would you, of all Fae, be interested in such an artifact? What could you possibly need to slow down or stop?”

I felt a bead of sweat form on my brow. This Unseelie was sharper than I’d given him credit for. “Let’s just say I’ve developed an interest in magical theory during my exile. Now, about that gate…”

Before I could deflect further, Alfric’s voice cut through the tension. “Don’t tell him anything, you fool! Whatever game you’re playing, it’s not worth giving the Unseelie an advantage.”

For once, I was grateful for Alfric’s intervention. The spy hissed in frustration, retreating to the shadows of his cell to sulk.

As silence fell over the dungeon once more, I could feel the weight of unasked questions hanging in the air. The guards exchanged meaningful glances, and I knew that word of my interest in the Temporal Tether would spread quickly.

I leaned back against the cold crystal wall, my mind racing. I’d gotten some information, but at what cost? And how long before someone put the pieces together and realized there was more to my return than mere curiosity about ancient artifacts?

Pondering my predicament, my thoughts turned to the impending court process. The Seelie judicial system was a labyrinth of ancient traditions and political maneuvering, with the Council of 13 playing a pivotal role. Typically, cases involving high-born Fae like myself would be presented before the full council, with the King and Queen presiding. Each family representative would have a say, weighing in on the verdict and potential punishment.

Last time, when I’d been arrested for my monumentally stupid gate mishap, the process had dragged on for what felt like an eternity. In reality, it had been about six weeks – a blink of an eye in Fae terms, but agonizingly long when you’re waiting to learn your fate. The ongoing chaos from the Unseelie incursion had complicated matters, with emergency meetings and damage control taking precedence over my trial.

I hadn’t known the full extent of the fallout back then. Only now, after my encounter with my father and the snippets I’d gleaned from Alfric and the guards, did I understand the true scope of the destruction I’d caused.

A new wave of guilt washed over me as I remembered my sister’s scar. I’d always assumed my parents had pushed for leniency out of some misplaced sense of familial loyalty. But now I wondered – had there been more to it? The thought that my little Rosebud’s life might have hung in the balance, that my parents might have feared losing both their children in one fell swoop… it was almost too much to bear.

I shook my head, trying to focus on the present. By all rights, I should be left to rot in this crystal cage for a good long while before anyone bothered with a hearing. Breaking banishment was no small offense, and the Seelie Court was notorious for its “out of sight, out of mind” approach to justice.

And yet… something felt off. There was an undercurrent of urgency in the guards’ whispered conversations, a tension in the air that spoke of more than just the usual dungeon malaise.

“Hey,” I called out to the younger guard, “any chance you fine gentlemen could tell me when I might expect my day in court? I’d hate to be underdressed for the occasion.”

The guard snorted, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. “You’ll be lucky if they remember you’re down here in the next century, princeling.”

But the older guard shot him a warning look. “Hold your tongue, rookie. Word is the Council’s convening first thing tomorrow. Seems your return has ruffled some important feathers.”

I blinked in surprise. Tomorrow? That was unusually fast, even for a high-profile case like mine. What could possibly be driving such urgency?

As I settled back onto my uncomfortable crystal bench, my mind raced with possibilities. Whatever was going on, it was clear that my return to the Seelie Court had set something much bigger in motion. And as much as I hated to admit it, a small part of me was thrilled by the prospect. After all, what was life without a little chaos?

With a smirk, I closed my eyes, ready to face whatever the morning might bring. Morning would reveal the court’s hand, and I was ready to play my part.”