Chapter Five

Tamriel drank his heartsbane root tea without any additives—no honey, no cream. The acrid burn was a welcome sharpness, cutting through the fog that had begun to cloud his mind. It was a bitter tea for a bitter moment, and though the heat of the liquid seemed to soothe his throat, it could not quell the heavy knot of emotion tightening in his chest. He tried to enjoy his sisters' company, tried to lose himself in the comforting routine of their shared past, but every laugh, every story, only served as a reminder of how fleeting their time together had become. His smile was forced, his chuckles hollow, yet he pushed forward, unwilling to show the depth of the ache that gnawed at him.

As much as he appreciated the brief moments of normalcy, the weight of their upcoming separation hung over them all, and he could feel it settling on his shoulders, suffocating the atmosphere around him. Arlyn would soon be gone, leaving him with a void that no amount of reminiscing or joking could fill.

Despite knowing that Arlyn could easily forage, hunt, or barter her way to the Unseelie Lands without much trouble, Tam insisted on packing food for their journey. It was his way of showing care, of feeling useful in a time when there was so little else he could do. Arlyn indulged him, as she always did, lounging back on the floor with a look of quiet amusement as he wrapped up bread, cheese, and cured meats. Yuli, ever the chatterbox, regaled Idris with tales of the most recent hunts and adventures as Tam carefully packed everything, one item at a time.

Tamriel found an odd comfort in Idris's presence. Even as the human made an effort to blend into the conversation, attempting to coax out stories and jokes from the others, Tam could tell that Idris was uncomfortable—too aware of the tension hanging in the air. Yet, despite the discomfort, Idris stayed by his side, offering a silent support that was, for the moment, enough. Tam realized that without Idris, the silence would have been unbearable, and the tea would have gone drunk in a heaviness that would have consumed them all.

As the last item—a jar of honeyed fruit—was wedged into Arlyn’s pack, Tam closed the bag with a sense of reluctant finality. She thanked him with a kiss on his cheek, and Yuli jumped up into his arms for a final, tight hug. It was a bittersweet moment, one that Tam tried to hold on to, telling himself that this was not the end, that they would see each other again soon.

“You will see them again,” he repeated softly in his mind as he set Yuli down. “This isn’t the final farewell.”

With those thoughts still swirling in his head, Tam called to Arlyn. “Ride swiftly.”

“I always do,” she replied, her lips curling into a slight, teasing smile. Velvet Night, her black mare, trotted proudly over to the clearing, already saddled and ready for the journey ahead. Arlyn took the pack from Tamriel’s hands and set about securing it to the horse, while Yuli cooed over the mare, stroking her hair and whispering soft words into her ears.

“Look after him, Idris,” Arlyn called over to him, a soft note of command lacing her voice. Tam glanced at Idris, who was gently allowing Yuli to show him the proper way to stroke Velvet’s mane. Idris seemed startled by the sudden request, but recovered quickly, offering Arlyn a reassuring smile.

“I promise,” Idris replied, and Tamriel couldn’t help but wince internally. It was the way Idris said it, with such open-hearted sincerity, that both comforted and unsettled Tam. There was no way Idris could truly understand what he was promising, yet it was a part of his charm—his willingness to commit to something he knew so little about.

“Farewell then, brother,” Arlyn said softly as she leaned in to give Tamriel a swift, final hug. Her embrace was quick but full of affection, and there was a finality to it that made Tam feel the full weight of their parting. She straightened up and, with a practiced ease, lifted Yuli into the saddle. It was odd, the way Yuli seemed completely unbothered by the separation. She barely spared Tam a glance, as though she truly believed she would see him again soon, without question. It stung a little, but Tam was glad that at least Yuli would not be carrying the same sorrow that he was.

With a final wave, Arlyn kicked her heels into Velvet’s sides, urging the mare forward. Tam watched them both disappear into the woods, their figures gradually becoming one with the trees and the shadows.

"Do you want to be alone?" Idris asked, his voice low and careful, as though unsure if his presence would make things better or worse.

Tamriel shook his head firmly, pushing aside the dark thoughts swirling in his mind. “I do not wish to spend my last week of freedom as a prisoner to my grief. There will be time enough for that later.” He allowed a wry smile to touch his lips, but it was weak, strained.

“Ok,” Idris said, and remained by Tam’s side as they watched the last traces of Arlyn and Yuli fade into the distance. His presence, quiet and steady, was a comfort Tam didn’t know he needed until now.

When the sound of Velvet’s hooves had finally been swallowed by the forest, Tam turned back toward his house. There was no more pretending; the house, once full of laughter and warmth, now felt emptier than ever.

“I think I need more tea,” Tam said to Idris, his voice flat, betraying the exhaustion he felt from the emotional toll of the morning. He wasn’t sure what to do now. His sisters were gone, and the weight of their departure settled on his chest like a boulder.

“I’ll make it,” Idris offered, his voice offering a hint of levity. “I’m good at making tea in a crisis. It’s probably one of my most useful skills, right after bandaging wounds and before putting people in the recovery position.”

Tamriel raised an eyebrow, allowing himself a small chuckle at Idris’s attempt to lighten the mood. “I did not realize medics were so adept in tea making,” he said dryly, deciding that if he was to be drawn into levity, he could at least play along.

“Oh, we have to take exams in it,” Idris teased, before adding, “That was a joke, sorry. But honestly, after seeing so many poor pensioners take tumbles down the stairs, it’s become a bit of a survival skill. A cup of tea can make a world of difference.”

“Now that I can believe,” Tam said, feeling some of the tension leave his body as he allowed himself to be pulled along by Idris’s humor.

He followed Idris back into the kitchen, settling by the fire as Idris set about boiling water. He watched as Idris fumbled with the green canister, sniffing it before adding the powdered leaves to the water.

“Use the leaves in the green canister,” Tam said, his voice light but cautious. “Too much heartsbane tends to be fatal.”

“Your world is terrifying,” Idris laughed, but his tone was fond, and he gave the canister an exaggerated sniff before getting to work. A minute later, Tamiel found himself with a fresh cup of tea, its warmth comforting in his hands. The heat of the cup burned his fingers, and for a moment, the sensation helped distract him from the ache in his chest. He focused on it, allowed the heat to anchor him to the present.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Idris said as he set his own cup down to cool. “But why does the Queen hate you so much? Everything she does seems to be designed to make you suffer.”

Tamriel relaxed his grip on his cup, looking down at the swirling tea before he answered.

“It is... petty,” he said after a pause, choosing his words carefully. “You must understand, for most Fae, humans are seen as... somewhat lesser than ourselves. Nuisances, toys, perhaps. But since I was a child, I’ve been fascinated by humanity. You live such short lives, yet you live with such fierceness. You have no magic, and yet you create your own. You’ve built towering cities and flashing lights. You have so much to offer, so much to share. I’ve always yearned to understand more.”

Idris’s thoughtful look was a comfort, as he put two and two together. “Your shelves in your bedroom,” he said slowly, as though connecting the dots. “That makes sense now.”

Tam smiled, a genuine, soft smile. “That’s how it all began. That day I ran away. I was a child, tired of listening to my parents’ endless shouting. I wanted to find a place where I didn’t have to be caught in their turmoil. I came across the portal, and it was nothing like I’d ever imagined. How could I grow up to look down on humans when you gave me one of the happiest moments of my life?”

“But the Queen,” Idris pressed, “she sensed your growing interest in humans and tried to twist it to her own amusement?”

Tam’s face darkened as he recalled the Queen’s cold, manipulative eyes. “She asked me to become one of her knights, a defender of her realm. I refused. The things she would have demanded of me... I could never do them. It would go against everything I believe.”

Idris frowned, his curiosity piqued. “What did she want you to do? We’re not at war with Faeries, as far as I know.”

“The Queen has whims. Fancies. Sometimes they are little more than minor inconveniences to humans: power cuts, impossibly thick fog clouds, hedges that grow and warp into ever-shifting mazes—funny things, even if they are maddening at times. Other times... other times she demands something far darker, more dangerous. Bargains woven with hidden malice, crafted to deceive and trick men into exchanging their very souls. She will take a child from its parents, never to return. Faeries and humans alike have come to the Queen with desperate pleas, only to have their hearts' desires twisted, warped into something destructive, something sinister. What they thought they wanted, she will turn against them. Lives ruined, all for her amusement. I found I could not pledge my life to someone who would so callously use it to ruin others, least of all for her twisted pleasure.”

Idris was silent, staring down into his tea, the weight of Tamriel’s words sinking deep into the quiet air between them. He could feel the sorrow in Tamriel’s voice, the pain of a decision that had cost him more than just a chance at a future. When Idris did look up, it was with eyes full of the same sorrow he had seen when he first learned of Tamriel’s fate: the Wild Hunt. It was an expression humans did not easily hide, and the raw empathy that filled Idris’s gaze made Tamriel’s chest ache.

“I don’t know much about how things work here, but I think you did the right thing,” Idris said softly, his voice barely above a whisper, but full of conviction.

Tamriel took a slow breath, absorbing the sincerity in Idris’s words. “As did I,” he replied. He took a sip of his tea, the warmth not quite reaching the chill in his bones. “For a time, I thought I would be allowed to live as I pleased. The Queen found it amusing at first, my refusal. It is rare for anyone to deny her, and she enjoys novelty. But her patience, like her whims, is fleeting, and I can already feel her grace beginning to fade. She tires quickly, and I think she has grown tired of me.”

“That’s awful,” Idris said, his face etched with sympathy. “I can’t… I’m so sorry, Tam.”

Tamriel pressed his lips together, fighting the urge to say that it wasn’t Idris’s fault. Instead, he inclined his head in silent gratitude, acknowledging the kindness in Idris’s words.

“Is there nowhere else you can go?” Idris asked, his brow furrowing with concern. “Arlyn mentioned going to the Unseelie Court. What about there?”

Tamriel’s expression darkened, his gaze distant as he considered Idris’s suggestion. “The Unseelie Court,” he said slowly, “is a place of eternal darkness. Where the Seelie Court plays its games with trickery and hidden motives, the Unseelie show their cruelty plainly. There is no facade of civility, no pretense of fairness. They thrive in shadows, and I would rather join the Hunt, however painful, than live a life of constant struggle for survival under such a sunless sky.”

Idris looked as though he was about to protest, but Tamriel raised a hand, silencing him gently. “But what of your world?” Idris pressed again. “None of that matters there, does it?”

Tamriel met his gaze, eyes unwavering, a silent challenge in his look. “I have been to your world, Idris. As beautiful and peaceful as it is, can you truly tell me that there would be a place for someone like me in it?”

Idris hesitated, opening his mouth to speak, but no words came. Tamriel could see the question weighed heavy on him. Before Idris could reply, Tamriel drained his cup of still-too-hot tea and stood up, stretching his limbs, ready to leave the past behind.

“What is done is done,” he said, his voice firm but not unkind. “There is no sense in dwelling on what could have been.”

Idris gave a small, almost embarrassed nod, looking at the table rather than at Tamriel. A slight tension settled between them before Tamriel spoke again, this time softer, as though trying to right the moment. “Let us focus on the present,” he said. “You have a few days here, in a land not your own. What do you wish to do?”

Idris’s face brightened, the heavy mood lifting for just a moment. “You mentioned some hills?” he asked, a spark of excitement in his voice.

Tamriel smiled, feeling a little lighter. “Yes. From the hills, you can see all the way from the Queen’s throne room to the distant mountains that divide our lands from those of the Unseelie Court. It is a beautiful view. I thought we could prepare some lunch and take it with us.”

Idris’s eyes lit up. “Yeah, I’m down for that.”

After a brief moment, Idris rose and rinsed the tea cups, drying them carefully, while Tamriel packed a small basket with food. He included stuffed peppers, candied fruit, and smoked fish wrapped in icevine leaves to keep it fresh. He packed a bottle of wine and decanted some water into a gourd for Idris, finishing it off with slices of honey cake he had made two days ago. A cake that was supposed to be shared with his sisters, before everything had changed.

Once everything was prepared, Tamriel whistled, calling for Grey. The horse appeared from the trees, his coat a dark, almost shadowy grey, standing proud and steady. Tamriel smiled softly at the sight of him. Grey had been a foal when Tamriel had first found him, barely more than a child himself. And now, Grey would be Tamriel’s constant, carrying him on the winds of the Wild Hunt.

Tamriel turned to Idris, who was already looking at Grey’s saddle with uncertainty. “Can you ride?” he asked, though he suspected he already knew the answer.

Idris chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “I tried once. My friend Kayla has a horse. She convinced me to take a lesson with her… it didn’t go well.”

“We will both ride Grey, then,” Tamriel said, his tone light.

Idris burst into laughter, the sound warm and bright. “He’s called Grey? That’s… literal.”

Tamriel couldn’t help but laugh as well, the tension easing between them. “Naming things is not easy for me.”

Idris reached out to stroke Grey’s mane, his fingers brushing through the soft strands. “No, it’s a beautiful name. I’m sorry.”

Grey snorted, nuzzling into Idris’s touch, and Idris smiled even wider at the horse’s affection.

It took a few tries, but Idris finally managed to swing himself up onto Grey’s back, though he looked a little wobbly. Tamriel climbed up behind him, reaching around to take the reins, the two of them sitting close, but not too much so. Idris was a little taller than Tamriel, which meant Tamriel had to lean out slightly to see where they were going. But Grey would find the path easily enough.

Tamriel nudged Grey forward with his heels, and the horse began a gentle trot. Idris stiffened, his hands gripping the saddle tightly. Tamriel placed his hands gently over Idris’s, guiding him with calm reassurance.

“Relax,” Tamriel urged softly, his voice a steady anchor. “I will not let you fall.”

Idris took a slow breath, his body gradually easing into the rhythm of the ride. Tamriel adjusted his posture slightly, keeping his arms close, making sure Idris felt the security of his presence.

“Easier said than done,” Idris retorted, though his tone was light. The two of them continued riding, the steady rhythm of Grey’s hooves moving across the terrain. After a few minutes of travel, Idris seemed to settle, his body gradually relaxing as he leaned back against Tamriel’s chest. Tamriel couldn’t help but notice the intimacy of their position, the closeness that felt unfamiliar, almost too personal. He forced himself to remind his racing thoughts that their proximity was purely practical, meant to make the journey easier for Idris.

And when you invited him into your bed last night? Was that truly for his sake? A quiet voice whispered in Tamriel’s mind, questioning his own motives. He grimaced, trying to ignore it, but the thought lingered like an insistent itch. He shook it off and urged Grey forward, pushing the horse into a gentle canter to cover more distance. He needed to keep the journey brief, to avoid growing too accustomed to having Idris in his arms.

Thankfully, it did not take long before they arrived at the foot of the Great Hills. The landscape of Faerie was ever-changing, shifting its contours in ways that Tamriel had long grown used to, but to outsiders like Idris, it must have seemed utterly unpredictable. On this particular day, the Hills had decided to move closer to Tamriel’s home, an occurrence that was always a bit unsettling for him, though he said nothing of it. Idris, unfamiliar with the fluid nature of Faerie’s geography, had enough to adjust to without being thrown off by the changing landscape.

Tamriel dismounted Grey gracefully, unhooking the bag from the saddle, while Idris slid off the horse with considerably less elegance. The human gave a sheepish grin, brushing himself off, before craning his neck to look up at the hills, shielding his eyes from the midday sun.

“How long will it take to get up there?” Idris asked, squinting into the distance.

“It depends on the path,” Tamriel replied, lifting a hand to gesture at the rocky trails that wound their way up the hills. “Some paths take mere minutes, others could take a week.”

“And we’re taking the mere minutes one, right?” Idris asked, raising an eyebrow.

“We are,” Tamriel confirmed, his lips curving into a small smile as Idris breathed a long sigh of relief.

They began their ascent along a well-trodden path that Tamriel knew intimately. It was one he had traveled countless times before, so familiar to him that he could have found his way up even in the dead of night. As a child, he and Arlyn had raced up these very hills, laughing and shoving each other out of the way. Later, when Yuli had learned to walk, Tamriel had brought her here, helping her crawl up the path, her small giggles echoing as she slid back down. Despite the memories that tugged at his heart, Tamriel did not speak of them.

The climb was not particularly strenuous, but both men remained quiet as they made their way up, breathing evenly and steadily. With each step, the view below them grew more expansive, revealing fields, rivers, and lakes that stretched across the landscape like an intricate patchwork quilt. As they neared the top, Tamriel could feel the cool mountain air filling his lungs, carrying with it the smell of wildflowers and damp earth.

When they finally crested the hill, Idris let out a low whistle, spinning slowly on his heels to take in the view. “This is amazing,” he said, his voice full of awe. “I can’t believe we managed to get so high so quickly.”

“We just had to pick the right path,” Tamriel replied, standing beside him and scanning the landscape. Far below them, the Queen’s throne room was a tiny speck, barely visible through the haze. It was easy, up here, to feel disconnected from the petty politics and endless machinations of the Seelie Court. The troubles of the world seemed so distant, so insignificant in this moment of stillness. Tamriel inhaled deeply, savoring the cool air that swept in from the hills. The Wild Hunt would fly even higher than this, soaring above the land with such speed and freedom that it made the ground-bound struggles of life seem insignificant. For a brief, fleeting moment, Tamriel found himself almost wishing for that life.

“It’s beautiful here,” Idris said, still slowly turning his head, taking in every angle of the view. “Beyond beautiful. You know, when I was a kid, I used to imagine a place like this. My Grandpa would tell me about Jannah—the Gardens of Perpetual Residence. It’s supposed to be a paradise, a resting place for the righteous. I always tried to picture what it would be like.”

Tamriel’s smile faded slightly, his gaze growing distant. “You make Faerie sound so perfect,” he said quietly. “But here, we are sorely lacking in righteousness, I fear.”

“There’s you,” Idris said casually, as though the words carried no weight at all.

Tamriel’s lips twitched into a wry smile. “One man does not a paradise make,” he said, though a strange warmth flickered in his chest at Idris’s words. “We once had a human visitor, a plaything of the Queen’s. He said Faerie reminded him of the tale of Eden from his world—beautiful, but poisoned by greed and sin. A world of promise, yet one that delivers nothing.”

Idris fell silent for a moment, taking in Tamriel’s words. He sank to the ground, pulling at the grass beneath him, fingers absently tugging at the blades as he thought. Tamriel felt a pang of regret—he had ruined something Idris had found beautiful, something he had been able to admire. But Tamriel knew it was for the best. Idris could not afford to fall in love with Faerie. He could not allow Idris’s departure to be any harder than it needed to be.

After a while, Idris spoke, his voice softer now. “There must be some good things here, though,” he said, almost as though reassuring himself. “I mean, there’s you, and your sisters, and the home you’ve built.”