Chapter 1

glitch

Day 97 of 108, The Dark Season

The portal exploded into existence with a rage that wasn't quite normal. Its light dyed the sandy ground in shifting scarlets. A visage of reds, darkening and brightening, it churned as clouds, crashing into one another with bloody hues that flashed like lightning and moaned as if in deep pain. It glowed in the doorway of an abandoned house. 

“Why the fuck aren’t you working?” Aydin glared at the portal as it twitched, appearing in an explosion of red light for a wingbeat, then disappearing just as fast.

The portal was clearly broken, and as it blinked in and out of existence, it unknowingly thwarted Aydin’s plans. He looked at the map in his gloved hands, not needing the portal's light to see in the dark. “I just need you to cooperate for ten seconds. Is that so hard?” He frowned at the red clouds as they vanished once more.

"Aydin!"

He shut his eyes at the sound of Calida's voice. He’d planned this so that she wouldn’t be around to interfere. He supposed it was the only thing they had in common—the ability to interfere despite all odds.

The portal reappeared, then disappeared in a flash.

He just needed it to appear long enough for him to get through. He dared take his eyes off it to glance at his approaching sister—and then doubled back when he saw she wasn’t alone.

“Kenneth?” he said, feeling betrayed.

“I tried to stop her.” Kenneth pulled down the black mask around his mouth and nose as he jogged towards him. The sandy street was sloped and steep, making his friend’s ascent awkward as he tried to speed up. Kenneth breathed hard, as if he’d been running at top speed. “But then she—convinced me—” He steadied his breathing now that he reached Aydin. “She convinced me it was, er, unwise to let you go like that.”

“What are you doing?” Calida demanded, standing in the middle of the street, arms crossed.

With his winged back to the missing portal, and the map crushed in his hands behind him, perhaps Aydin wouldn't look so conspicuous. "Nothing."

The portal appeared with a series of loud and windy rumbles. Both Calida and Kenneth stared.

"I'll rephrase that," she said slowly. "Where do you think you’re going?"

In truth, he didn't know, but he sure as hell wouldn't tell her that.

The portal vanished and brought back the relative silence of the abandoned neighbourhood. He liked abandoned neighbourhoods. Maybe he'd been too predictable in choosing this location.

The black morning sky was sunless and moonless, making this scenario more intense than it needed to be. Calida held out her clawed hand in sympathy. "Aydin. There's no need for this." Her dark brown dragon eyes attempted something like softness as she pleaded with him.

Kenneth scratched his head, hand disappearing into a mass of coily hair. "I'm confused—are you or are you not meeting Ana?"

"Ana?" Calida exploded. The fake gold in her actual gold braids clinked angrily as she faced Kenneth. "Is he still—" She whirled on Aydin again. "Are you still messing around with that witch and her cronies?"

"What—I’m—no—" The portal flashed again, this time glowing its brightest scarlet yet. He didn't have to explain it to her now. Or ever. He frowned at his older sister and wished he'd been given any other. "You're not supposed to be here."

She scoffed. "No kidding. I'm supposed to be taking a long a bath after an even longer day at the med building. Is this necessary, Aydin?"

Kenneth sided with Calida, to Aydin’s annoyance. "Come on, sahbee. It's not a good idea to go through a broken portal."

"We're going home," Calida deadpanned, passing by an unlit streetlamp, but Aydin stayed put, his chest burning, his jaw tensing. Calida's brown vestigial wings beat gently, her braids almost chime-like; a good pretence at delicacy.

"No," he breathed.

And there it was. The word was painfully simple, and for a moment it seemed that easy. No, he was not going 'home'. Aydin had made up his mind and he would go through this portal even if it cost him his sister’s wrath.

This time, when the portal reappeared, it did not vanish. He took a sharp breath and turned his back on them, tucking in his wings. The portal's clouds swirled and grumbled in a way that was not natural. He supposed that nothing about portals were natural; they were purposeful shreds in the universe, made to take you anywhere you pleased. Anywhere he desired. Anywhere but here.

Calida's footsteps stopped. "Aydin."

The portal started to glitch rapidly, but he wouldn't lose this opportunity.

"Aydin, I swear, if you—"

He swooped up his backpack, the arched passageway appearing spasmodically and dyeing him in shades of blood. He experienced a sudden and brief moment where the world expanded as he ran towards the portal and away from everything he knew. As he let its magic swallow him whole.

**

Sae curled her clawed fingers into a fist, but even this did nothing to stop the tremors. Light sparked from the skin; its paleness marked red. It was worsening, as the years went by, and now even a tight fist could not keep the shakes at bay.

"Sae." She didn’t need to look up to know it was Iris. From where she sat on the ground, Sae watched the approaching set of feet. Iris’ grey sandals had not always been that way, but years of this dusty land had hidden their true, undisturbed black. Her ankles were partially visible, the dark brown skin revealed beneath the sweeping hem of a green cloak.

Iris lowered to a crouch next to her. She said nothing of the two camp leaders leaning against a nearby boulder, watching them closely. "You're going to stay with them while I get food." She gripped Sae's shoulder. "You do not have to answer their questions. I will return shortly."

Sae faced her, but only briefly, so as not to look like they were conspiring. But it was enough to catch the look on Iris' face. Her white, narrow pupils were mere slits in milky brown eyes, and seldom held much expression other than intense clarity, a trait which Sae never understood at the best of times. But now there was anger in them as they flicked towards the two leaders conversing in low voices. Though Iris was yet to say as much to her, she did not like these faeries. Of all the camps they'd encountered, this one had been the least welcoming. Even though they were few, no more than twenty in total, Sae had never experienced such large and collective hate directed at her. Or at Iris.

Before Iris stood, Sae said, "Can’t I come?" 

The wrinkles on Iris' face deepened with her frown, and Sae was unsure of the cause. Her words or tone? The whispering camp leaders turned their heads at once, and Sae was uncomfortably aware of the camp’s general silence.

The camp was situated on a grey and barren hill, but it was wide enough for everyone to be scattered around carrying out their different duties and have their separate conversations, yet many heads turned towards Sae and Iris. Three people preparing the sleeping area glanced their way, and not far from them were two other faeries, attending to the sick with medicine and bandages. Their eyes slid to Sae too without comment. Only the footsteps of the others down the hill, walking towards the camp, could be heard now. Their distant crunch the only sound in the miles of undisturbed land.

The miles of dust and rubble.

One of the leaders frowned at Sae. They were siblings, the leaders. Killian and Caoimhe. The brother, Killian, had not uttered a word to Sae since her arrival, and the sister Caoimhe had been the one negotiating to Iris with a begrudged tone. The leaders were also the only two that did not come from this area, evident by their orange-brown complexion and red hair. The other faeries in the camp (except for the green Elder) were gold in skin, their frizzy hair like clouds of sunlight, coily halos around their heads. But if they had once been suns and stars, they had since fallen, many gaunt and fatigued, skin dry and faces sunken.

"You will remain,” said Killian, in the faerie tongue. His blank white eyes barely blinked as he stared at her. Without the presence of pupils or irises, an empty pit of white light analysed her.

Caoimhe motioned to one of the faeries arranging the sleeping areas. A child. "Keep the dragon girl company."

The boy she addressed scowled from the sleeping area, having heard everything. He then gestured to the girl next to him. "Which one of us?"

"Both of you," Leader Caoimhe replied, already bored with the conversation as she turned to her sibling.

Iris squeezed Sae's shoulder before she made her way down the hill. Noisily and reluctantly, Sae stood up, the stones beneath her bare feet rolling and shifting. She didn't look at the two young faeries as she neared them and opted to watch her left hand as it trembled. At least there was no pain, she reasoned, letting her hand drop to her side as she reached the other kids.

The sleeping area was simple, mere blankets and cushions laid on the ground, with a barrier of shimmering light surrounding it: magic. The sister leader was Gifted in barricading.

The young girl standing before Sae sounded as if the words had been forced from her throat when she asked, "Are you cold?"

Sae shook her head, tucking dark hair behind her pointy ear.

"Then why is it you shake?"

"That's enough, Gráine," the boy said quietly, his head lowered.

Gráine’s blank eyes widened. "We were told to keep her company!"

"Gráine," he repeated, but she huffed in response.

"You do it then," was all she said before marching off. Her gold skin flashed black for a heartbeat, perhaps reflecting her mood. This was the second sign of any of their magic in the days Sae and Iris had been here. This camp was not interested in celebrating their individual faerie Gifts. In fact, they did not appear to celebrate anything at all. Even at night, no one said a word of the stars shining above. It was this that had worried Sae the most.

The young boy remained silent as he cleared away wind-blown dirt and dust from the bedding. His hair was bound in a tight bun, and he seemed to enjoy keeping the camp clean the most. Or at least, he did it the most. Sae silently joined him now, with nothing else to do now that Iris was gone. To her relief, the boy remained silent and allowed her to clear the next bed. She pushed her long hair over one shoulder to better work, but the rest of it still pooled on the ground as she knelt by the bed, the lower white half mixing with the dirt. Pushing aside stone and debris with shaking hands, Sae reminded herself of Iris’ words when her hands seemed to shake so much that she feared they’d fall off.

Deep breaths are the secret to being calm.

Sae took a deep breath and continued scraping away the dirt. She tucked in her small black wings and took another deep breath, focusing on the task at hand. 

The air hazed in the midday heat, but the three Sky Suns had not said a word since dawn. They glared down on them (on her) their faces burning in an off-white sky devoid of clouds or birds, reflecting the gloomy grey below.

Reflecting the vast expanse of dead land around her, the miles of untouched, ruined land.

When at last she and the boy had finished clearing the sleeping area, she sat by the edge of the magic barrier and kept to herself, awaiting Iris’ return. She watched some mist drift by, the glittering black substance that was not truly mist, curling and moving through the air despite the lack of wind.

She touched the pendant resting at her chest, chained around her neck. She embraced the comfort that came with merely touching it, her one and only treasure. Iris had warned her against emotional attachment to material things, but this was different. That's what Sae told herself anyway. It had been her mother's, so this was different. Sometimes when she looked long enough at the jewel in its centre, she felt a presence she couldn't explain, a warmth and strength that she could not draw from anywhere else.

The jewel glowed bright, swirling with a multitude of colours that moved and blended into one another lazily. She hardly ever noticed the actual rose shape of the pendant because her eyes were always caught by the gem. Not the smooth black petals nor the tiny engravings on their edges. The heart of the pendant rested in its centre, and she was almost certain that it echoed another's true heart, that the spirit of her mother glowed from the colours.

Iris returned some hours later. In that time, everyone ignored Sae. She ignored them right back, taking small pleasure in the silence and the fact that she didn’t have any tasks delegated to her. But it came at a cost, for she was forced to notice the quaking of her body, the shiver that went up her spine and kept her hands from being steady. She did her best to control it, convincing her body that all was fine and nothing need come of this.

When the food came carried in two large baskets by Iris, they all gathered in a haphazard circle in the camp centre. Everyone but Sae.

"Dragon girl," the Elder called, after several minutes where a young faerie whispered into her ear, making delicate motions with her hands. The Elder was the nicest of them, if nice was the right word to use. It was her alone who had let Sae and Iris stay, and her alone who could banish them. There was an Elder in nearly every faerie camp they'd come across, sometimes up to three. It was rare to see a faerie of old age, Iris had explained once. Rare in these times. Iris herself had never told Sae her exact age, but she'd been older than nearly every elder they'd encountered, though she didn't look it.

Then again, Iris wasn't a faerie. Nor was she like Sae—dragon-like.

The Elder pointed a wrinkled green finger at the edge of their circle. Elders always had strange skin, colours like vibrant blue or sky purple. Colours that stood out in whatever camp they stayed. This one had a deep emerald complexion, as well as hair that fell around her shoulders like wiry vine, green and mossy. "You must sit among us," declared the Elder. Sae didn't bother to dust herself off when she got up and sat next to Iris.

The food was the same as it always was when Iris 'made' it. Sae had once asked for something new, but Iris had calmly explained that there was not much to work with in this land. What she did, exactly, Sae wasn't sure, and had given up on asking when Iris simply ruffled Sae's hair in response to her curiosity. All she knew was that Iris had a wand and with it she could do many things Sae and the faeries could not. They passed around bread and berries, then shared dew-grains between two. There was still much left over for that night and the following day, which they kept in the basket Iris had gifted them upon arrival.

A young mother in the group cradled her child wrapped in a long shirt, and it was only her eyes that wandered to Sae when she walked away from the circle and vomited her entire meal.

Red blood stained the ground along with it, and she shut her eyes for a moment. She waited for the dizziness to subside before wiping the sweat from her forehead and returning to the group. Iris, waiting for her when she returned, put an arm around Sae when she sat, wrapping her cloak around them both. "Here," Iris said under her breath, and Sae knew what to do without being told. With their hands hidden under the cloak, Sae received a few berries in her palm. When she was sure nobody was looking, she put them in her mouth, barely chewing before swallowing them. 

"You should have eaten slowly," Iris reprimanded, and there was still an air of anger around her. She had not smiled at Sae once today and had been too preoccupied with watching and analysing every faerie in the camp. "Next time, wait a while before you finish it all."

Sae merely grunted in response, knowing very well that there was nothing she could do to keep her food down if it didn't want to. Every day was one of chance when it came to meals, and despite all of Iris' efforts, there was nothing they could do to change that.

So, Sae adjusted her little wings before resting her head on Iris' shoulder. "Alright," she said, and closed her eyes.

**

She'd asked Iris, years ago, why they needed to find faerie camps. She and Iris had their own home, a long and tall vehicle that Iris had turned into a place of comfort over the years. They could provide their own food and water, and lie on a bed or sofa each night without the worry of waking up to uninvited guests.

"It is not about us," Iris had said, brushing Sae's hair as they sat at their little round table.

"You mean, we do it for them?"

"Yes. You see how most react when we bring food and water. And presents. They love receiving presents."

"Like blankets and tea!"

"Exactly."

Though, this time it was different. Iris and Sae needed the faeries in this camp just as much as the faeries need them.

The tremors were worse at night. As she lay on her bed in their mobile home, the trembling gave way to full blown spasms, flashes of red light consuming her left hand. Heat travelled up the arm, a burning sensation building in her chest. Iris always said that deep breaths were the secret to being calm, and so Sae took deep breaths each night, waiting for peace. Some nights peace came, and she fell asleep before the spasms could become something else. Other nights, and more frequent than they'd ever been, something else arrived.

Those nights, Sae did not sleep.

Iris was determined to keep that something else from ever coming back. She told Sae enough was enough, that Sae was thirteen years old (would be turning fourteen in a matter of weeks) and this could not go on any longer. Time is running out, Iris would often mumble, sometimes to herself, sometimes in her sleep. Now, whenever they encountered a camp or crater of faeries, Iris would offer a bargain—even one based on lies—and request any exchange to cure Sae. But it was not so simple. 

Every faerie had a unique power, a Gift given upon birth. They said it came from The Lights Above, the night’s stars. As well as this, all faeries were capable of magical illusion. But the extent of that magic depended on the individual, and the strength of the individual depended on the strength of the camp. Some camps, nobody spoke a word, acknowledging neither the corpse lying among them, or the sick children dying by their sides. These were the ones where Sae and Iris would not linger more than some minutes before leaving. In these camps, magic was not strong. Then there were some where stories were shared each night around campfire, where someone would sing in the morning, captivating the attention of everyone as they sat and listened to the unaccompanied voice, applauding at the end of each song. In those camps there was always someone whose magic had not weakened to the point of uselessness, who practised it at dusk and even competed with another for the entertainment of the camp. "Can you cure her?" Iris would ask, and after a moment of assessment, the faerie would shake his head. "I cannot." Or bow her head. "I will try." Or curl their lip and snarl, "I will never." The latter were camps like this one, where mutual dislike and resentment was directed at Sae. Dragon filth, they called her, spitting at her leathery wings. Monster.

Iris said Sae's parents had been killed by a monster. For years, she had assumed one of the many soulless creatures wandering the ruined land, the products of so much mist. But each time a faerie looked at her with unfiltered rage on their face, Sae wondered if it had been a different kind of monster. But Iris wouldn't lie to her, and so she always dismissed the thought. And for all their hate and disgust, few faeries had ever harmed Sae. Whether that was due to Iris' presence or the twisted wooden wand she carried with her, Sae was not sure. Their reason for hating her was not clear. They were strangers. Sae had never been intentionally cruel to a single person. To any living creature. But their feelings were undeniable, as well as unchangeable. Sae had put it down to difference. People did not like what was different, and Sae was absurdly different from any faerie. For one thing, she had wings. Small, black things that they called 'dragon'. This combined with fangs, claws on her fingers as well as talons on her toes, made for a striking appearance, more so than any blue-skinned or pink-haired faerie. However, it seemed her eyes were the one thing that got the most attention wherever she went.

Her purple dragon eye seemed a curse, but every night she thanked the stars that she'd been given a faerie eye too. That blank eye was her saving grace, the one thing that made them consider her as somewhat acceptable, and she suspected that it kept her alive too, no matter Iris' wand. A pair of mismatched eyes was her only redeeming trait, but it seemed to be enough. It occurred to her that it was enough the next day, when Sae woke up to the sound of a terrible scream.

At first, she thought there'd been a monster attack.

Sae leapt from her bed and ran to the wide window. It was barely dawn. The three Sky Suns teased the horizon, painting the sky a wan orange. But the light glowing from the top of the camp was bright, a golden light. The mist here was not strong, she soon realised, not enough to create a monster. Groaning, Iris sat up on the sofa by the opposite wall, where she slept most nights. She was already grabbing her cloak from the floor, her grey braid hanging over one shoulder. "What is it?" she asked, speaking in the language they used apart from faeries.

"I don't know," replied Sae, watching that light glow brighter, enough to rival the suns on the horizon. She frowned, her hands shaking as she pressed them against the warm glass. "Iris, what should we—"

"Let's go," said Iris, voice as hard as the walls around them. She kept the lights off as she strode to the driver's seat. She flicked a switch, turning on the engine.

"You mean... to the camp?" asked Sae.

"Stay away from the window,” said Iris.

Sae blinked, confused as the vehicle started moving away from the hill, farther down the empty land. "Iris. Someone is screaming. I thought we were here to help—"

"Stay away from the window, Sae," Iris snapped. The vehicle sped up.

Sae moved from the glass, her hands leaving smoke prints behind. Her pendant bounced against her stomach as the vehicle shuddered before sailing smoothly some feet off the ground. She stared at the driver's seat, Iris' long braid swaying gently as the vehicle sped up. She didn't understand. Why was Iris unwilling to help?

After some tense silence, Sae marched towards the door, her talons clicking on the floor. Iris kept her eyes on the tall windscreen, even when Sae glared at her from the door.

The silence lasted three seconds before Sae shoved open the door and jumped out.

"Sae!"

She rolled in the dirt, then awkwardly hurried to her feet and regained balance. Sae didn't look back at the stopping vehicle before she started running towards the hill. The rubble shifted beneath her bare feet as she sprinted onwards, fingers twitching and releasing red sparks of light as she forced her legs to move faster up the hill. The screaming had quietened, and now she could hear everything happening as if she were there. There was general chaos as the sound of flames soared through the air, and she almost stopped then and there.

Indeed, Sae hesitated, her body shivering in response to the light ahead that she now understood was fire. "Deep breaths," she whispered to herself, and huffed up the remainder of the hill until she stood at the edge of the camp.

There was blood on the stones. Sliding across the ground slowly, nearing Sae’s feet. The edge of the camp was abandoned. Most had flocked to the distant centre, where the light of golden fire blazed. As she hurried towards the small crowd behind that wall of light, following the trail of blood, the voices growling and weeping on top of each other soon became clearer. She came to a sudden halt when the flames extinguished suddenly, leaving a thin cloud of smoke in the air, and revealing the scene before her.

She saw the dead body first, lying burnt and smoking where the flames had been. But the blood came from another, their hands clutching a red-slick neck as they lay on the ground in another’s lap, blood spilling from their slit throat. The others were weeping and screaming as they stood in a half circle around someone kneeling on the ground, blurred air wrapped around their throat and keeping them from moving. Leader Killian held a long, curved blade in his hand as he approached the kneeling stranger, but Sae’s eyes were now fixed on that kneeling stranger, one gloved hand holding tight a bloodied knife and the other hand…

The other hand was consumed in crackling flames. Flames as golden as the little dragon wings behind his back. Flames that burned in his eyes as they snapped to Sae and went wide.

Went wide and then soft, the fire dying to reveal a pair of dragon eyes, pupils elongated and cushioned in rich brown.

A monster, like her.