Profane Tales: Puckless!

1
"TYRANT!" Puck exclaimed.
"NANNY GOAT!" the King's voice overpowered all else. Winds were building and all subjects were trembling at the outburst.
All except for Puck. The King's secretary was enraged, his nostrils flaring and his ears folded back. He seemed moments away from charging at the other fairy.
A particular fairy among the company, a pot-bellied, amphibian-looking thing with flowers for ears...could not help but admire the secretary’s courage in the face of the fearsome Fairy King. She only feared for his life. Hibiscus turned from a neutral gray to a frightened reddish color.
"There is no talking to you sometimes. It's like trying to reason with a pile of rocks!"
"Retract that blasphemy and apologize!" the King commanded,stomping his foot. The ground shook. The little fairy in the crowd needed to hold onto a companion to keep from falling.
"Instead I retract and swap for another statement. Bugger yourself!" the secretary bit his thumb and threw down the bag he carried with notes and tools.
"What didst thou say!" the King growled.
Puck folded his arms and walked towards the exit of the thorny castle. He kicked it open the door with a hoof and was gone.
"Do not bother returning until you learn a modicum of RESPECT for thy King!" the King exclaimed. He growled and stomped a foot again and the fairies present huddled together, trembling.
"Straighten!" he snapped, causing all of them to go pole-straight.
His searing eyes scanned the crowd. When they fell upon the little chubby fairy, she needed to make an effort not to gasp.
"Hibiscus!" he gestured for her. "You have worked under Robin.Come! You shall serve his position until he comes to his senses."
"Y-y-yes, Your Majesty," she bowed and scuttled over to her superior’s discarded items. She lifted them and peeked inside. Hibiscus could hear her companions’ whisper their horror to see the young one in Goodfellow's position.Surely, she would falter and it would cost her limb or life...
"What marked he next upon to-day's schedule?"
Hibby squinted to read Puck’s writing. "There is trouble in the swamps, it seems."
"Details?" he asked.
"I do not know, Your Majesty. He did not say w-w-what on here."
"Consult the notes!"
"Directly," she gulped and dug through Puck's notes. They were scattered and followed no order that she could understand. Her heart sunk."Y-y-your Majesty, I apologize profusely. But I cannot seem to find any notes pertaining to this particular conflict."
She found him peering down at her, fangs bared. He lifted his head and righted his posture. "Ah, you can hardly be blamed for his disheveled purse. Let us be off then to discover the issue personally. Your wings function?" he asked. 
She flapped her small, dragonfly-like wings. "I do fly, Your Highness. But not swiftly."
"What?" he asked, cupping an ear. She had forgotten that his hearing was unreliable. Puck always covered the awkward moments with jests.
"I said, yes, Your Majesty. But not swiftly!"
“What?” he exclaimed. It was like watching a firework go off when he snapped his fingers and silenced all else present.Once again, he asked “What didst thou say, young Hibiscus? Slur not!”
“I can fly but not swiftly!” she exclaimed.
"Simply make an attempt not to fall behind." He shrugged.
He led the way outside and Hibby scuttled after him. The King's black wings began to pick up speed the moment they were outside. They flapped up wind and nearly blew Hibby backwards and back through the castle doors. But she held to the ground and followed after, her wings lifting her from the ground. How had the day come to this? She kept repeating to herself that this was not the end of her life.

2
Hibby's Notes: Day One Without Puck.
I believe I am already failing at this endeavor. Not a moment into the task and I believe I have fallen short of the King's needs. The first thing I noticed upon greeting him was that his appearance was...off. Though I could not finger what it was at the time, I realized it was his crown missing. He must have forgotten it without Puck to remind him. No one can blame a trivial thing like this to him, for he has countless other duties.(A fact that made itself glaringly obvious to me to-day). He was speaking to himself when I entered and I paid this no mind because it is well known among the court that he does this and that it is best not to interrupt.
He snapped his fingers when I entered and held a hand out as if waiting for something.
"Y-your Majesty...?" I did not know what it was h wanted.
He shook his head, apparently leaving his own thoughts. "Ah. Agenda, Hibiscus. Today's agenda."
"Ah, yes." I dug in Puck's bag, which I had reorganized last night so that it would be manageable for me. Still, when I handed His Majesty the list,he cocked his head. It reminded me of the movement a feline makes when a toy is taken from it.
"This is High Noon's to-do list. Not an agenda. Did he show you where those were?" he asked.
I was mortified that he sounded agitated. I so wanted to make Puck proud and I fear the King. We all do.
"N-not that I recall, Your Majesty."
He gave a sweeping gesture to the room across the hall. "The library.Come. I may as well show you."
I walked ahead, doing my utmost not to tremble while I held the door open for him. When I caught up he was gesturing to an entire shelve of scrolls. My heart all but deflated. I had not learned this! But the King did not seem to take note. He stood, reticent and with eyes fixed on the scrolls. "Do make haste. Their alignment mocks me..."
It hit my ears like a warning. Whatever it may mean, I did not want to find out. I hurried to the scrolls and began to sift through to find today's agenda.Of course they were out of order and in Puck's usual organized chaos.
Eventually I did find today's schedule and hopefully the key to navigating that shelf. It seemed to be alphabetized backwards according to one of the older dialects of the elders. It is a language I only know passably.
But by the time I brought the King the scroll, he was glaring at the shelf.
"Is there something the matter, Your Highness?"
"Look at it!" he growled. I backed up into the shelf, causing scrolls to fall.
I loathe myself when I am so easily frightened. Especially when it leads to these small defeats. The scrolls that fell on me did little to hide my fears.
"Never mind..." I heard him grumble as he stomped away.
"Should I clean this?" I called out.
"Leave it to the maids!"
From there the day only digressed.
At high noon, the King did strike one royal guard with the back of his hand. It sent the unnamed guard flying and he was dismissed for the remainder of the day. I am not at liberty to discuss why the King struck him but I will say the guard overstepped his boundaries while speaking to the Princess Rue. Puck has warned me time and again that the King can be volatile, so I should not count this against myself. I see this as my failure for not preventing the situation.Puck would have known how to diffuse the tension.
Though he seemed more ill-tempered than usual throughout the day and growing impatient with my timid nature, nothing truly horrid happened until about an hour ago.
Though the King recently dismissed me to organize my notes, I was called out of Puck's study by a maid. She told me that she and the other servants could not remove the King from the library. I could not imagine how I would possibly remove him if numerous other fairies could not. I am about as stern and fierce as a litter of newborn rabbits. Regardless, I could not slack on my duties and Puck would surely know how to handle this!
But I was ill-prepared.
What I found was the King in the library and scrolls strewn about. He seemed to be frantically reordering the scrolls. I could almost imagine an hour glass running out as he scrambled to put the scrolls in order. But most puzzling tome was that he seemed to be measuring how far each stuck out. His wings were even flapping, a sign of distress.
"Your...Majesty?"
"Behold! This row is even. See? Yet the others, I cannot seem to--"
"They do not have...to be even, Your Majesty."
" Of course they do! It must all be the same!"
"He's been doing this for three hours," the maid beside me whispered.
I had to conjure up my best imitation of Puck's levity and charm. "Your Majesty, that can wait for the morning."
"Nonsense. I have no need for sleep."
Oh dear. What would Puck say to that?
"You deserve sleep, though..."
He froze, twitching slightly. "What time have you on the clock?"
I told him and he set a hand to his forehead, eyes shut tight. It was a pained expression. "Three hours behind schedule. Three. THREE!"
I do not think any of us were prepared for what occurred next.
"Burn it," he commanded
I gasped. "The whole shelf?"
"Yes, do it by morning and bury the ashes. It is tainted."
I recalled then what Puck had warned me of. The number three. That was the King's one great fear. I should not have revealed the time to him.
"Surely, Your Majesty," a maid spoke up, "we could wash it instead. A whole new shelf--"
The King flew cracked his foot into the shelf, cracking it neatly in the middle.
"It is broken. Burn it and do not recycle the ashes."
He left us with that. I had seen erratic behavior from His Majesty before but not of this nature.
Here's to hoping that Puck returns by morning. I am afraid I am not ready for this kind of responsibility!

3Hibby's Notes: Day Two Without PuckI did my utmost, I swear! I did all I could to stop His Majesty from handling this personally.
I told him "No, Your Majesty, a mortal woman would not be ready to behold your radiance!" "Your Majesty, isn't this too small a matter for your concern?" "Your Majesty, please!"
But he insisted upon seeing this through PERSONALLY.
What a disaster.
It was discovered that a changeling was recently swapped for a human infant.This is not uncommon, obviously. But Puck warned me that the King is especially concerned with matters concerning the young (both mortal and fae). So we took the trip to the mortal woman's home. When we stood before the woman she was understandably altered in mood. She appeared to be in a state of torpor until we arrived and His Majesty decided that stealth was not necessary.
He made a grand entrance, causing the mortal woman to drop the pile of logs she had been carrying. Her screams summoned her husband to us and he yielded an axe.
I hope I did right by throwing sleep dust at the both of them. They plopped to the ground as fast as their logs.
"I suppose she was not ready," the King mumbled. "Fast thinking,Hibiscus."
I would be lying if I said I was not flattered. I blushed and hid my countenance from anyone for the next hour. But we were able to find the changeling. He was seated upright and awaiting us. He must have heard us from outside. How old he was, I could not tell. Nor what kind of fae he was but I saw that he had been mistreated by his humans. He had the appearance of a human babe but the demeanor of someone far older. As the King went to touch him he pulled away.
"What is the matter, Your Majesty?"
He waved his hand and I read such a gesture to mean that I was to carry the little one. It almost seemed as if the King was unnerved by it. But of course I did not ask why.
Now I know that those two mortals will wake and tell horror stories of seeing at all, darkly clad fae with a crown. This is precisely why he has Puck in his service! To speak him out of making appearances in the old world. Mortals can only handle so much...before they begin to go into hysterics. We all know that he likes his pranks, but outright hysteria will not do.
Again, he was ornery with the court and broke into an argument with the Queen towards sundown when he rose.
He seems to be jumping at the slightest provocation.
But at least I managed to keep him out of the library today...
The new shelf will be installed tomorrow. For now I am keeping the scrolls safe in a trunk. Tomorrow is supposed to be a day of paper work. I have never been so excited to hear that there will be nothing to do!
Where are you, Puck?

4
HIBBY'S NOTES: THIRD DAY WITHOUT PUCK
FAILURE! Utter and complete failure to perform my work! Not only is the King falling apart,his crown lost, several doors off their hinges, cracks in the floor where he has stomped them to death, and the court in a panic, but now Her Majesty joins in the madness.
To-day, the Royals met with an official and the King was storming so madly that nothing could be done to help it. Her Majesty the Queen had set about translating his ravings as best as she could. With the magic that spouses possess from years of marriage, she was able to make sense of prose but only to a point.
I hid in the corner to take notes. That is what I do best, after all.
Finally the Queen threw up her arms and stomped and grunted. It is rare to see her lose her calm.
"Enough!" said she, "I will no longer be your translator! That is what you hired Puck for! I am your Queen, not your secretary!”
She was gone in an instant and the trembling official begged to be released from the conference. The King did not dismiss him but marched in the opposite direction.
At last it was only the official and I who remained, united in our fear.
I have searched everywhere. I cannot find the King.
I have lost him. I have LOST THE KING!
I had ONE TASK.
To serve the King in Puck's absence.
And I have failed.
Gods preserve us! We need Puck!

5
Elsewhere in a less magical place, the King’s secretary sat peering into a pond. He watched his own tears join the water there while, by his side, a Unicorn listened with no particular interest.
"By his side constantly! He destroys something, I fix it! He takes, I give. And yet... for each flaw he has, I see it water ten more virtues that grow in its place. The garden..." he held back a sob "chokes the weeds that try to strive there. How can I hate him? "
The Unicorn watched the fae and sighed. "You love him. It sounds to me as though you are incapable of hating him, Goodfellow. Have you... eh, ever thought of--"
"Of what? Quitting his side?" Puck asked. "I...I have considered retiring one day. But then I realize...who I am thinking of. Nobody has ever truly believed in me the way he has. He found me when I was a force of clamoring chaos and gave me order."
"Funny then that you are the one to give him order," the Unicorn yawned.
"That is just the way life works," Puck shrugged and blew his nose. "Being away from him for only three days has left me out of sorts. I can do it, but thinking that he loathes me causes me more pain than I am able to express."
"You have expressed here, at length, more than I have wished to know," the Unicorn assured him. Then, with a knowing look "Are you...eh, bedfellows?"
Puck stared at the Unicorn as though he had sprouted extra heads. "Me? In the royal bed!  You jest!" he laughed. "I am not worthy--"
The Unicorn yawned again, interrupting Puck's self-depreciation. "Sure."
"You don’t believe me?"
"Well, I don’t care enough to probe into the matter deeper. But I would have assumed you two were bedfellows if not told otherwise.'"
"Is this the set up to a joke, Unicorn? He is not the kind of King that does that sort of thing with his servants. The Queen, however, well that-- "he paused. The Unicorn could probably see Puck's thoughts speed. "Wait a moment. How many days did I say it was?"
"Three, Goodfellow. Three days, including the nine hours or so you have been rambling to me."
"Three! God’s wounds! I need to get back to him!" The fae jumped to his hooves and shook them of dirt. He shed the human-like form for the form of a bird. But as he went to fly, he could not seem to lift off in a straight line.
The Unicorn groaned. "Oh for the love-- Come here. You are drunk, mongrel.”
The four-legged beast lightly nabbed the bird’s wing and slung it onto his back. “I will take you back to the Fairlands. Hold on.”
 "You do us great service!” Puck exclaimed.
“I simply  do not want another war breaking out in the Fairlands. That King of yours has a temper and ought to try to find a hobby."

6
All in the Fairy Court had turned in early, as the Queen had sounded an alarm.When Puck and the Unicorn walked the halls, not a soul was stirring. But nearing the library Puck could smell the flowery scent of his assistant Hibiscus.
"I see you there, Hibby. Sweet Mabd, what are you doing?"
Two eyes appeared first, blinking on the wall until Hibby's camouflage faded and she appeared in a shade of blue. Her head was hung, her voice hoarse from weeping. "...I failed you, Puck."
"Oh, pish-posh." He conjured up a handkerchief and wiped her eyes."What is all this nonsense? It isn't the kind I like."
"The King..." she whispered. "He is in the library. I was standing guard. I have tried to speak sense into him, Puck. He is inconsolable."
"Raving or maudlin?" he asked.
"The latter," she replied. "You have brought the Unicorn?"It brought a smile to her face to see the majestic beast. The Unicorn was glad to allow the fairy maiden to pet him. Meanwhile, Puck poked his head into the library. He looked about to find it in shambles. Nothing of the order remained.But what was most unnerving was the attempt at re-stacking and re-shelving that failed so miserably.
The servant found his King sitting in a most uncharacteristic slump. He had an old skull in his hand, rolling it about like a saddened child.
Puck cleared his voice. "Ahem..."
The King started. He rose instantly at the sight of his secretary."Robin..."
"Your Majesty."
Their stiff stances melted as they embraced. Puck held onto him extra long and rubbed his back. They had known one another so long that the servant could detect when the King was truly sad, despite any attempts at hiding it. "I am sorry I stayed away so long..."
"You...took holiday. It was well-earned," the King replied. He combed Puck's hair back in affection.
It was brief but their faces remained inches apart and for a moment Puck thought the King would kiss him. But the taller fae straightened when he noticed the Unicorn and Hibby watching. With a grand gesture towards the library, he announced, "This is to be reorganized tomorrow. No servant is to work tonight." His way of apologizing indirectly. He still left a hand on Puck's shoulder as he spoke, which gladdened him.
"Your Majesty," Hibby spoke up "There is a list I must show you if you would like to see it now."
"Yes, that would suffice."
As the King and Hibby exited, the Unicorn remained.
Puck's ears had lowered and his expression sobered. The Unicorn nodded towards him "Some day."
“Some day what?” he asked.
The Unicorn did not remain to explain. The sound of hooves clicking on the floor preceded silence while the secretary was left to think over this.

Profane Tales- "Gremlin Hunt"

Synopsis: Picking up where "Traps" left off, Gelding and Amy are now faced with a strange new fae that is wreaking havoc in Amy's castle. Meanwhile, the Siren Tamryn (met in "Melancholy & Magic") is depressed and Gelding is at a loss on how to help her.

1

The Unicorn spent a night guarding the mouth of a tavern, casting his light into the darkness. He had lost words hours ago, for nothing consoled the sobbing creature within. For once in his long life, the Unicorn found himself disadvantaged by knowing another immortal. A mortal maiden would have ceased her weeping when she laid eyes on the magnificent Unicorn. But the weeping siren was not a mortal maiden, despite the sounds of such mortal pain.

He had made the mistake of asking her, “Must you pick off the castle workers? You should hunt mortals elsewhere. The Princess’ handmaids are disappearing like rabbits.”

It seemed that now the Siren was convinced the Unicorn loathed her, though he assured her this was not true. Once those first tears fell, the following could not be stopped. Hours and hours of rocking and sobbing, weeping and clawing the earth, crying and gasping for air, unfolded before the Unicorn. He found no way to console her as he would anyone else.  All attempts sank into her endless sea of sorrow.

“Friend,” he spoke again, daring to interrupt the silence between them “does the sea of sadness have a bottom? How may I help you?”

“You cannot, friend,” she sighed.

The Unicorn went forward into the dampening cavern. The Siren was wrapped in her own black wings, fresh cuts across her body where she had clawed.

“I dine on those whom you protect. Especially the pure. You should vanquish me…Why have you not yet?”

“I cannot hate you for being what you are. Do not touch that which I hold as my own and we shall never have to fight,” he assured her. “Where does this hate for yourself spring from, Siren?”

“I killed that which I loved the most, Unicorn…”

The tattered creature’s mouth opened, fangs shining with fresh blood. Her own clawed hand placed in her jaw. The Unicorn stomped a hoof.

“Stop that! It helps nothing and gives you more to heal. Are you not wounded enough?”

“Before she could respond, both demon and beast were stirred by the blare of a horn.

“It sounds as though the humans need me. I must return to them, my friend. But, Siren, remember my words tonight. Happy ending depends upon where you have chosen to cut off your tale. Think on this. Stay with me…”

He bowed his head as though he would touch her with his horn.

“Goodbye…” she  called after him. “Thank you, Unicorn…”

2

“Unicorn!” the human king’s Captain of the Guard roared at the white creature as it arrived. “Where were you?”

“I was needed elsewhere. I do have a life outside of your princess, if you can believe that.”

“While you were out cavorting with chipmunks, we had a crisis!”

In a cage beside the captain an odd creature of green color was hanging about the bars. The Unicorn had never seen its likeness before.

“What is this leafy, sprightly thing?”

“We were hoping you would tell us.”

The sprightly thing stuck its tongue out at him, much like a human child. This also bore a resemblance the Fairy Royals’ Sprites.

“I have a vague idea of its kind. But I do not think it is quite the same. I have never seen this creature exactly. It looks to be a kind of fae, though.”

“I thought you predated the Garden of Eden,” the Captain grunted.

The Unicorn was not humored by ignorant statements, so he went to work circling the cage and examining the creature closer. Its black, orb-like eyes shined at him. “What did it do to cause trouble?”

“What they are doing is turning the castle upside down. Freed the Princess’ pets. Attacked the barn animals, and now they are attacking us.”

The Unicorn looked about and saw that there was disorder, the embers of a fire being put out. Servants were fanning out burned blankets and cleaning messes that had been tossed from windows. But he saw none of these creatures.

“Where are they?”

“They have burrowed underground!”

The sun happened to be rising on the horizon and the creature imprisoned in the cage shrieked. Both the Unicorn and the man stared in awe as the poor sprightly thing went into flames.  The Unicorn’s ears pinned back in thought.

“Isn’t that the darndest thing, Captain?”

“Where are the others?” the Captain clamored. “Drag them into the sun!”

“Quick-witted of you,” the Unicorn complimented. “I am impressed.”

“Quiet, beast!”

“But you seem to miss the point. That is why they have hidden. Without the shadows, they are rendered too weak to stand the sun.”

“Unicorn!” the Princess Amy’s voice interrupted the discussion. The Unicorn turned to receive the maiden’s hug. One of her arms was in a sling from a recent accident but she still managed to embrace him with her good arm. “I worried where you were.”

“Your anger would be deserved, Amy. I was not here to protect you…” The Unicorn hung his head.

The Captain gestured as though he were nauseous of the scene. “That is all fine and well, but now find the remainder of the monsters and snuff them out, Unicorn.”

“I am not a monster compass,” the Unicorn retorted. “Show them to me and I shall but I shall need aid in finding them.”

The Princess loosed her hand around the Unicorn and offered, “I saw one dig into the ground. Whilst on my balcony, looking down.”

“Show me.”

3

The Princess led the Unicorn to her garden. Though she bit her lip and hemmed and hawed at the prospect she proposed they dig at the ground where the gremlin had nested under the earth. There was a miniscule hole, hardly visible.

“Just how small are these things?”

“The size of the very thing the Captain had in that cage.”

“This looks the size of a bug’s hole.”

“Oh, but they must block up the hole after tunneling down.”

Though he would not show his wonder, again, for a third time in a few hours he was surprised. Now at the this gremlin’s digging skill, earlier at the Captain’s wit working and earlier still at his friend the Siren’s endless sorrow.

He pawed in the very spot Amy had shown him, digging with impressive speed. But though he had the strength and patience to do it, he feared he would not work speedily enough. “Shall we call in the dogs?” he asked.

“Yes, though only the hunting hounds will dare dig and they have been trained to leave the garden alone!” Amy warned. “I believe it will confuse them.”

“I shall have a word with them, then.”

When the hounds were brought before the Unicorn, his own fur bristled at the sight. One or two of the dogs, now quite aged, were among the pack that had attacked him when Amy was a young girl. He stomped a hoof to indicate his dominance to them. Then in the language of Beasts, he commanded. “Here, hounds, dig this hole deep. For there are monsters beneath which we must exterminate. I know you quite capable, as I have seen you turn paw and teeth against helpless rabbits and foxes. Do this and we shall no longer quarrel.”

“Your eyes are so hateful to my father and mother,” spoke one of the youngest dogs. “I fear you, white creature, with your long horn, all glowing and good for poking. I do not trust the hooved one!”

“Calm yourself, hound. I have no animosity towards you and I shall bury any leftover ambivalence towards your parents on this day.  Now will you help to keep the Princess and the castle safe?”

“Oh, please listen to him,” Amy begged the dog.

It was a known fact that Amy could sometimes hear the Language of Beasts, a quaint gift she seemed to possess. Rumor among the castle was that the Unicorn had blessed her with this gift, but the truth was simpler. Amy had been born this way, and good fortune found her that she should meet a Unicorn and the strange and fantastic became believable in his presence.

The youngest dog, alpha of the group, at last gave his submission to the magical beast and the Princess and went to digging at the gremlin’s nest. Of course, a dog could do burrowing better than a Unicorn, being a carnivorous creature.  It came to be that only his fluffy tail wagged at the surface when he caught a bite of something.

“Do bring it to us to see,” Amy called down.

The dog obeyed, all tail wags and a big grin. Snapped between his jaw was what appeared to be a green potato. Amy’s dark eyes shone in amazement. “Oh my. ‘tis almost pretty!”

The dog set it down and cocked his head. “What is it?” he asked the two.

“A kind of Fae. I have never seen the likes of it before. This must be a protective barrier. Hound, can you take in its scent?”

The dog did as suggested and barked at his fellow canines. They scampered forward and did the same.  With sniffs, whimpers and tiny barks, they rose to a challenge. “We will sniff out all that we may find for the Princess and the King,” they told the Unicorn.

“And so do. And bring the findings to me before nightfall.”

The dogs, ever eager to please their human friends, split up to act out this task. Amy held her skirts to fetch her handmaids. “Water for the dogs, please. And extra cages.”

The Unicorn oversaw this small act of Amy taking charge in a dangerous situation and he felt something akin to pride. Perhaps this was a fourth moment of astonishment.

4

Whilst the dogs turned over every stone for these odd fae-things, Amy related to the Unicorn what the creatures’ behaviors had been like.

“One I gave a sweetie to. At first it seemed quite pleased and held its hands out for another, which I had and gladly gave it. But then I was out of the treat and could give it no more. It then became like a petulant child, stomping its foot and even crying. I tell you, they remind me of small children. Pampered ones, at that. I have a cousin who is waited on hand-and-foot and when she was such an age she acted the same way when I received a toy for my birth date.”

“And were you ever spoiled?” the Unicorn asked, mostly out of curiosity. “To be sure, I am. Visiting the villages, I realize I truly am. But I do not believe I ever made such a fuss when not receiving my way. I knew that in time I would get it, if I were patient,” she explained.

“I see, and so it is their impatience that reminds you of children?” he asked.

The Princess nodded. “I find them rather charming if it were not for all the things they break and the trouble they cause. Must they all be destroyed?”

“Of course, Princess. To suffer them to live would be foolish.”

Now as evening sun drew close to the horizon a pile of the cocooned creatures waited before them. The alpha dog informed the Unicorn, “We can find no more, Unicorn. The scent is nowhere else.”

“Father is going to be unhappy with all these holes,” Amy mumbled.

Just as she spoke a raven overhead screeched. Both Unicorn and Princess watched its passing in the sky. The Princess crossed herself at the sight of the bad omen but the Unicorn brightened with an idea. “Princess, to-night call all your guards inside or have them cork their ears. For there may be a sound none should hear.”

“But, Unicorn. Why?”

“I shall explain it later.”

With that he was off in search of his immortal, feathery friend.

4

That sulking siren, with a black veil over her face, had not moved from her weeping post. She still lie in her own winged embrace. But the Unicorn’s light shone down into the cavern, stirring her.

“My friend, I have a task for you. If you will please take a moment from your symphony of sighs to lend me the beauty of your voice, I shall be forever in your debt.”

She, a creature of the night and a demon in reputation, could not help but wonder what the majestic beast wished of her.

“How could I possibly aid thee at such a time?”

“The King’s castle is infested by Fae-things. They are like children and I believe for that reason your song may be useful to us.”

The Siren was seen to sigh and then unfold her wings. She lifted her head and stretched out. It was true she had songs particularly to lead children astray, for the ancient creatures delighted in mortal children’s bones, still tender and soft.

“I could lead mortal children astray but these are Fae.”

“Will you not try? If it does fail, I could destroy them with a flicker of my light, but the Princess tells me they are innocent in nature, if not triflingly naughty. I wonder if you may lead them back to the Fairlands?”

The Siren turned to him. From under the veil there appeared the faintest of smiles. “You are confident this may work?”

“I believe in your song,” he assured her.

“Then I shall try,” she agreed.

When the creatures reached the mortals’ castle, the Siren asked, “Why is the yard so…eh, holy?”

“The blessing of dogs,” the Unicorn quipped. “These fae burrow to hide from the light. Siren, hear and understand why I ask you to do this. These are Fae and likewise the Fae should have to take responsibility for them.”

She nodded in agreement, knowing the way to that other world. All she needed was for the night to fall.

5

Night’s power fell on the mortal land.  As it did, the green cocoons of the gremlins began to fade as if they were illusions. The moonlight washed the greenery of their blankets away. The vegetal creatures stretched out and yawned. The first gremlin to realize they were in a cage let out a howl of dislike. The others followed suit until the cage was a bedlam of noise. The Unicorn stood nearby, ears flat to avoid the racket. It was quite irritating to him.

But he was the one who needed to stand guard and await the Siren’s song.

The song began so faint that it could be dismissed as illusions of night noise. But it fluttered closer, ever closer to where the creatures were caged in the garden. The things lifted their petal ears, paused with those leaves following the sound. The outline of the Siren shone against the backdrop of the moon.

The first gremlin to see her pointed her out to the others. Then, almost in an instant, all of their little eyes caught the image, transfixed. Like children, indeed, they became pettish and impatient about touching the mysterious figure in the sky.

The Unicorn knew when their hypnotism was complete, because they all began to move in unison. He pulled the string connected to the cage. The cage door swung open and the gremlins tumbled out. The Siren began to lead them. The gremlins all had little bee-like wings which lifted them into the air to join her.

But her figure was playful and swifter than they. For a little while, the Unicorn saw that they were playing a game of chase with the demoness. But soon she spun about and led them into the night. He nodded in satisfaction. His friend had come through.

6

The following morning, the castle was not disturbed by the creatures. The Unicorn had time to explain to the Princess what plan he enacted. She was frightened and curious to discover that such a demon dwelt in the forest but the Unicorn assured her that the Siren would not attack her. As the Unicorn’s friend, the Siren had sworn not to harm the Princess and he trusted her word.

He went in search of the Siren that same evening and found her asleep in the cavern where she nested. There was no weeping and that relieved the Unicorn. He had never seen such deep despair from another immortal creature and, though demonic in nature and his opposite in actions, he pitied her. Pity was not a thing the old Unicorn felt often.

“Rest well, good creature,” he told her sleeping form.

Quickly, tentatively he moved forward and gave the form a gentle nuzzle of affection.

Profane Tales: "Goodnight Rotten Prince"

1. darker places

ONCE there lived a prince, beautiful to behold and a pleasure to know. Except, of course, for those who dared to oppose him. Prince Emeril had a heart that was solid as gold and he believed any woman he desired was his to take.

His cruelty was unseen by his mortal peers.

But the Beasts of nature could not be fooled by his appearances. A little black bird had been following Prince Emeril for some time before she happened upon the Unicorn.

“Beware that prince, Unicorn. He left a princess for dead in the kingdom he comes from…”

The Unicorn thanked the black bird and took up her watch over the prince. Unicorns could not be fooled by outward appearances. When he beheld the prince, it was of outward ugliness he saw. He saw blood on Prince Emeril’s hand as the man stepped down from his steed before the castle.

“Amethyst,” the Unicorn spoke to the Princess maiden he guarded. “Do you see that Prince?”

Amethyst, behind her white veil looked in the distance at the gathering nobility. “Yes, the handsome one with fair hair?”

“That is the one. Stay clear of him, Amy. He will bring only heart-break.”

“But he is so comely. You speak of him as though he is a wolf or a satyr.”

“You are too young to understand why I must warn you of this man. Please, this once, believe my words without needing proof.”

The Princess lowered her head and sighed. “Yes, Unicorn. I will be careful.”

“And keep the veil that your nursemaid gave you over your face. Do not let him know you.”

Amy gave a nod and joined the other women at May Day celebration.

There was a feast spread out for all and Amy sat in the middle as a guest of honor. She and her father the king were honoring the villagers. Prince Emeril was merely a visitor from a neighboring land. But the Princess stirred his curiosity the moment he glimpsed her. Even behind a veil, he could see she was lovely, with cascading dark hair and fair skin.

“You must be the Princess Amethyst?” he asked.

He was kind in manner and this confused Amy greatly. He listened to her thoughts and her stories and he did not laugh at her when she confessed that she would not partake in any meat at the banquet.

“I cannot eat animals,” she explained. It was a thing most suitors chuckled at and the crueler ones mocked her for being silly. But Emeril seemed to accept this quirk without hesitation.

Nor did he seem to doubt her sanity when she mentioned her Unicorn friend. Emeril glanced at the forest where the white creature stood. The Unicorn stared back at the Prince with moonlight-colored eyes. But Emeril saw no horn on the beast’s head.

“A strange beast, Princess. But I see no horn upon his head,” he took her hand gently. “Surely, you are joking. It seems an odd mix of deer and horse to me.”

“Oh, no, Prince Emeril. Some people do not see his horn. Some see a white deer when they look at him. Others, a malnourished albino donkey.”

From afar, the Unicorn scoffed. How he hated when he was called an ass.

Emeril smirked. “Perhaps you will come to the bonfire tonight? And bring him with you. I will ask the others if they see the horn.”

Amy laughed and set a hand to her chest. “If my father does not forbid it. You shall be there?” she asked, aware already that she would avoid this event. Even if Emeril seemed nice, she had faith in the Unicorn’s judgment. Never had the Unicorn’s wisdom steered her wrong and, whilst surrounded by an enchanted forest, that had proven invaluable.

“Excellent,” he replied. “It shall be lovely to see you there…”

Amy was soon called away, though she allowed the Prince to kiss her hand.

“Do you like him?” one of her maids asked.

“He  is friendly…” was all she could reply, torn between her loyalty to the Unicorn and her curiosity of the Prince.

The Unicorn could see behind Emeril’s guise of gentility. Maidens and youths frolicked about the festival and young Amy remained close to her maids and father. Whenever the village was given a merry event the white beast tended to hide himself but today he kept watch over the innocents. Emeril appeared as crimeless as they. When Amy disappeared into the crowd with the other maidens of the village—they had decided to include her in a game of throwing food—the Unicorn took the moment to enter the village itself. Until this point, he had been lingering at the edge of the forest, languishing in the grass and watching with the black bird at his side. Now he walked with a slow gait along the cobbled path.

Prince Emeril turned from conversing with another noble and cocked a brow at the beast.

“The Princess’ friend. He is friendly, isn’t he?”

He and the other man laughed. “What is he? Astounding. Not quite a horse, is it?”

Emeril’s companion reached out to touch the Unicorn but the creature recoiled from him and reared up. It was a warning noise to stay back, slightly too high to be a neigh. It was more akin to a whale’s call underwater. Emeril’s companion backed away in fear but Emeril made a grab for his sword.

“Oh, put that down, will you? I come to be reasonable with you,” the Unicorn spoke in the language of Man.

Both men gaped as color drained from their faces.

“You, Prince Emeril,” he warned “should not attend that bonfire tonight if you value your blood flowing. There is a creature in this woods who craves your kind. And better still, the beasts of this forest love the Princess. She is their friend and friends keep their own. You would not want to anger them.”

“What witchcraft is this?” Emeril demanded, putting the sword to the Unicorn’s face.

“Get that thing out of my face!” He used his horn to knock the sword out of the Prince’s hand. “That is all, Prince Emeril. Enjoy your festivities.” He grunted and trotted away.

“Mortals…” he scoffed.

2- song of the dark princess

Emeril had heard the word “no” throughout his life but never could come to grasp its meaning. And so he was quite angry when the Princess did not keep her word about the Bonfire. Other maidens were frolicking about but he had his sights set. Gray eyes scanned the scene for any sign of Princess Amethyst. Maidens had joined hands to circle the fire and ring around it. The sight was familiar enough to the Prince, one he had seen countless times in his own kingdom.

It was not until a quarter before midnight, as the Bonfire grew to its heights that her figure arrived. She had traded in her white dress and veil for a black replacements, as though she were leaving a funeral behind. Her maids were nowhere to be seen. For a moment, her silhouette played against the fire, statuesque and unnerving.

An odd thing happened then. Something Emeril had never seen a princess do before.

Amy began to sing, with no formal announcement.

“What are you doing, my lady?” he asked.

But her song was sweet and echoed far and wide.

“Follow me to forests, sweet,

where only the moon shall watch us flee,

None shall know but the trees,

Lift my veil and freedom’s plea

Shall be but ours and no one else

Will ever know where darkness dwells…”

Though he could make no sense of the lyrics, it was the voice that entranced him. Amy’s arms had begun to sway in time with her melody. She tiptoed away, barefoot. He was left with no choice but to follow. Reminded of his youth, that one girl who had escaped him. It was her voice, he knew it. It must be. And though this followed no logic, the moment of pursuit saw it as truth.

It was the very root of any chase. To capture that escaped captive.

All around them, the other celebrators had begun to fall asleep.

He followed the darkly veiled woman into a moonlit forest. Emeril had forgotten that white beast and his warnings of danger. “Pursue!” was all his mind could allow. He had never longed to touch something so much. This was a pinnacle of more than lust. It was longing.

The Princess stood beneath an old tree. The song had finally faded.

“Amy, your voice… It is unearthly.”

But when he reached for her, she held out a hand to stop him. Again she tiptoed away from him. His blood boiled. “You take me all this way and say no!”

The woman spun around and lifted her veil. The face was not quite fair. Something was not mortal in it. Her eyes were the color of blood.

She said nothing but smiled. Emeril felt a shock as thorns dug into his leg. Impossible things followed, the vines of the earth growing quickly around him. It was too late when it dawned on him what was happening. The forest itself turned its powers against him.

That awful siren of a woman laughed. She giggled and lifted from the ground with long black wings that he had not seen until now.

“Perhaps you should tell the forest that you are not in the mood,” she laughed and winged herself away, talons and all.

In the distance, that strange white creature of Amy’s, the “Unicorn,” watched as thorny vines held the Prince in place and nocturnal laughter surrounded him.

All around, the dome of night transformed the forest into a landscape that was both familiar and strange. This land was peopled with creatures usually unseen by Man’s eye.

The Unicorn turned from the scene and walked away. “I warned him…”

3-the Fairlands

The vines and thorns that held Prince Emeril in place were not all-powerful, only graceful arms that forced him to see the world fall into its subconscious. For the Prince that dream was a nightmare.

He cursed and struggled against the vines, eventually breaking through one of them and pulling himself out of their grasp. But by this point, teasing, tiny lights had begun to circle him. They mocked him and one bit his ear.

Irate with the sprites, Emeril swung his free hand dashed it against a tree. He brought his hand back to discover a blackish blood on his fist. This had turned into a night from hell. It was instinct for him to kick leaves over the dead sprite, which he had no time to truly examine. He assumed it to be some kind of fairy or demon.

The forest was no longer the one he had entered while pursuing the Siren. He cursed himself for leaving behind his weapon. Here something else sprung to life against a tree. The moonlight had casts Emeril’s shadow on a trunk and that shade moved on its own accord.

He turned his face away. Nothing here should be trusted, not even his own eyes. He had not been a believer of nightmarish tales but he had listened to enough to know better.

The growl and howl of an animal caused the lost Prince to spin around in the dark. But he could not find the direction of the noise. The moonlight was eclipsed and a shadow fell on the mortal man. A clap of thunder and a gust of wind broke any silence the night once held. Lightning stole the light from his eyes before returning it in a flash.

A winged figure appeared before him, with skin the color of green-gold and eyes that seared.

“Murderer!” the bestial roar returned. Each word boomed as the spectacle spoke. “Thou hast killed one of the King’s citizens in cold blood! And not in self-defense. Bow and beg for forgiveness, wretch, and mayhaps there shall be some little mercy!”

“Stand your ground!” Emeril could not match the creature’s voice in power but he refused to bow.

“You kill one of the King’s citizens and now you dare to command him! This is my kingdom, moronic buffoon!”

“You may stand twice my height but do not think I shall back down, demon.”

“Demon? DEMON!?” The creature’s black wings flapped and lifted him from the ground. “You dare to call the King a demon? I am FAE! And thy teeth shall be fashioned to a necklace for my daughter, thou wanton imbecile!”

Emeril felt fear but not the mortal dread most would experience in this situation. He had rarely felt true horror.

“Simmer down then, Fairy. I was led astray by a Siren-wench. My appearance in your kingdom is by mistake.”

“And so you think this excuses you from the murder and the crimes you commit. If you weep not in remorse, you will sob in endless pain. Excuses are dull and useless to the King. Results. That is the thing he wishes to see.”

“The result shall now be walking away,” Emeril replied, recovering from his initial shock. He did not fear fairies. No matter how fearsome or frightful they seemed. Tales he was told as a child were of tricksters and shape-shifters. There was the occasional maiden-thief or those that swapped out infants for old and deranged fairies. But overall, they seemed to be the lighter cousin of the more formidable hell demons. He turned on the King of Fae and began in the opposite direction.

A hand grasped his hair and, with one tug, threw the man to the ground. A heavy boot came down on his chest.

“Have you no mortal dread!” the King demanded. “No respect for pain and what it may teach.” The boot grinded down into Emeril’s chest. He felt anger, agitation and a primal need to fight or flee. But dread? There was still none.

The King’s face seemed to reflect this knowledge.

“The King first considers killing, then considers reformation but now he sees what thou truly are. The Unicorn was correct in his prognosis.”

The King balled a fist and tugged at the air. The uncontrolled scream echoed throughout the forest as the fairy uttered his curse.

“Thy touch hath cursed the women thou cross’d

And so thee shall likewise be cursed and lost.

In a lake of thine own tears

Forever afloat without peer.

Bones twisted to match thy guise

of kindness and elegant lies.

White for purity that thou soaked red,

for rejecting the flame-light that pain should have shed.”

The King had removed his foot from Emeril’s chest and the Prince crawled to his knees and grabbed at the tall fairy’s leg. But a pain shot through Emeril’s spine, causing him to cry out. The Fairy King looked down upon him with a growl and Emeril’s hands slipped inch by inch off of his foe. On the ground his back jolted and the rest of his body shook. The violent spasm rocked him like a doll in the wind. It felt as though his very bones were breaking.

Such physical pain the Prince had never known. Even in battle, stabbed and coming so close to death had not been such a pang. When that first series of spasms stopped he saw on his hand one white feather. But he felt the rest of his flesh break into goose bumps before his spine broke.

That distinct snapping broke through the night.

Bones rearranged themselves.

The process dragged until he lay inside his own clothing, too small to wear it. The King knelt down before him and lifted him from the pile of clothing. That is when the Prince knew he was no longer a man.

The tall fairy held the white swan and stroked his feathers.

“A cursed prince. A twist indeed,” the King marveled. “I think I will leave thee at an enchanted lake. If thou attempts to fly off, the pangs you inflicted upon maids shall be…thine own.”

4- the legend of the dreaded swan

That is the story of how the rotten-hearted prince became an enchanted swan. The timeless swan maidens and youths have always existed. But Zeus had not been trapped within his treacherous guise. And so Emeril’s fate was unique among the swans. The legend says that by night he sometimes becomes part man again and he is a danger for maidens to visit.

When the Unicorn heard of the new legend he visited the lake to see for himself.

A swan floated towards him, leering.

The Unicorn lowered his head and allowed the bird to see his reflection in the moonlight. It was a reflection which showed his horn to the cursed swan. Emeril questioned why he had not seen it before.

“Perhaps someday you shall not need a penance to teach you how real pain is,” the Unicorn told him. “Perhaps someday I would break the curse for you. But to-night, I fear too much that you would still spread pain rather than learn from it. Goodnight, rotten Prince. May chariots of swans wing you to your epiphany.”

Profane Tales and its characters are Copyright the author!  (c) 2014 Luz Briar.

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