Virtue - a Fairy Tale Read online

  “I don’t know why I’m telling you this,” Gula exhaled.

  “Telling me what?” Lux cocked his head at him.

  “He’s going after the girl.” He rested his burly arms on the table and leaned in. “He’s not concerned with you, at least not right now.”

  “What do you mean he’s going after the girl?” Lux moved in his seat, facing Gula more face on. “He’s personally going to find her?”

  “No, not yet, but he’s using everything he has,” Gula said. “He’s sending Ira and the canu after her.”

  “Ira? The canu?” Lux asked incredulously. “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?”

  Gula was taken back his response. “I didn’t realize it was so important.”

  “I’ve got to go.” Lux finished his drink in one quick swallow, relishing the way it burned bitterly down his throat, and got to his feet. “Thanks for your help.”

  “Where are you going?” Gula looked up at him, getting more shocked and confused.

  “I can’t let them find her. You know what they’ll do to her.” Lux shook his head and backed away to the door. “I have to get her first.”

  Gula stared after him, his eyes wide and confused. As soon as he’d heard Ira’s name, Lux’s stomach had twisted painfully. The canu were bad enough, but he should’ve expected them. Ira, on the other hand, had a temper far worse than Valefor’s. Even if Valefor commanded Ira to bring Lily to him alive, which Lux wasn’t even sure was the case, it would be more likely that she would upset him, and Ira would kill her or hurt her.

  The sun had already started setting, meaning Lux would have to go into the Necrosilvam in the dark to look for Lily. He didn’t care about the creatures in there, since they could do little to hurt him, but she’d be harder to find. Assuming she’d made it alive through the first night.

  As he raced to the forest, he cursed himself for leaving her alone like that. What had he been thinking? The Necrosilvam was no place for a young girl, especially not one who’d had the peccati after her. He should’ve known that Valefor would send them after her. Truthfully, Lux was just lucky he hadn’t summoned all of them yet, and that his attention was focused on Lily so far.

  That made him nervous, too. What was so special about Lily that Valefor wouldn’t even waste his anger on Lux for betraying him?

  6

  Throughout the day, as Lily helped her gather things from the forest, Wick had repeatedly said that she should take Lily back to the palace. For as often as she threatened it, though, she never made a move to make good on it. She’d just mumble it under her breath while Lily gathered toadstools, and that would be that.

  Lily’s gown had been ruined from falling in the dirt, and Wick let her wear one of her faded dresses. The forest felt only slightly less terrifying in the warm light of the sun as they gathered supplies. Mostly it appeared to be things for Wick’s potions and spells, but a few things were for them to eat. Sometimes, it was hard to tell the difference, and Lily found that a little unnerving.

  As soon as the sky started to redden from the setting sun, Wick demanded they go back in doors. Just because she could fight the night creatures didn’t mean she wanted to. Lily could already hear the rumblings of the forest coming alive, but everything felt eerily silent and still as soon as they reached the clearing around Wick’s cottage.

  “Nothing bothers you here, does it?” Lily asked as they walked up to the cottage.

  Wick carried a basket under her arm, filled with the treasures from their day’s work. Her cloak draped over her shoulders, but she left the hood down today so Lily could see her face.

  “Nothing but lost princesses.” Wick looked back over her shoulder, giving Lily a small smile to let her know she was only teasing.

  “I’m not a princess,” Lily muttered, but her attention had already wavered from the conversation.

  The apple tree Lily noticed outside the cottage last night, the only living tree in the woods, was even more peculiar than she had originally thought. Wick had already opened the door and gone inside the cottage, but Lily paused outside to admire the tree.

  The narrow trunk and branches were twisted and wound around, like thread in a rope, and the bark looked almost black. The green leaves were shaped like tear drops and stood out against the barren backdrop of the forest. But most strange were the apples that hung precariously from the branches, all of them a bright shade of violet.

  “Are these really apples?” Lily reached up and touched one gingerly, as if she thought the color might rub off and reveal the normal red skin underneath.

  “Of sorts, yes.” Wick set the basket down on the dining table and slipped off her cloak. She’d left the door open for Lily to follow. “Come inside and shut the door.”

  “Can I eat one?” Lily asked.

  “It won’t hurt you, if that’s what you’re asking.” Wick moved about the kitchen, putting everything away. She added things to jars or filled up pouches, making sure everything was in its proper place.

  “What kind of apples are these?” Lily plucked one from the tree, then took a bite. It tasted bitter and sweet, like vinegar and honey. She wrinkled her nose and went into the cottage, dutifully closing the door behind her. “They don’t taste very good.”

  “They’re not supposed to taste like anything. They’re not really for eating.” She wiped her hands on the front of her smock and watched Lily mull over the fruit. “They’re what keep the charun and trees from bothering my cottage.”

  “They’re magic apples?” Lily’s eyes widened when she looked at Wick.

  “In a way.” Wick gave a small laugh. “I put a spell on the seeds, and everywhere the roots touch, the creatures will never come around. It’s not a very strong spell, but it’s good enough for what lives in this forest. Anything too powerful wouldn’t have any trouble getting in, but I keep to myself, so that shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “Hmmm.” Lily set the apple on the table, not sure what to make of it. It tasted horrible, but it was beautiful and magic, so it seemed like a waste to toss it aside. “Do you need help with anything?”

  “No.” Wick touched at her hair, watching the way Lily stared at the apple. “You’re probably hungry, aren’t you?” She hadn’t eaten anything all day, but that wasn’t unusual for her.

  “I could eat,” Lily admitted shyly.

  Wick didn’t have much in the way of food. She lived alone, dined alone, and often busied herself too much with magic and potions to remember to eat. Rummaging through her cupboards, she found an old loaf of bread, and she whipped up a simple broth. Adding a handful of red berries they’d picked that day, and Wick had made a rather presentable supper.

  Lily sat on a stool by the fire, dipping her bread into the broth to soften it, while Wick sat at the kitchen table. While Lily ate, Wick munched absently on berries and pulled out her grimoira, cataloguing everything in detail in her spell book. She kept careful record of everything she collected and used because she was always trying to improve or create new recipes for magic.

  “Thank you for taking me in. I really appreciate all of your hospitality,” Lily said between bites of her food. Wick mumbled something but didn’t look up. “I know my mother would be very grateful to you for this.”

  The mention of her mother made Wick stop writing. She stared down at the page for a moment, remembering a friend she hadn’t thought of in years. Guilt washed over her, knowing that’s not how Iris would feel at all. Iris would be angry with her for not doing a better job of watching out for Lily all this time, and Wick hated knowing that she’d failed the only friend she’d ever really had.

  Wick lifted her head, wanting to say something meaningful to her about her mother, but something else caught her attention – the jacket hanging on the chair across from her, the way it had been all day. She’d spotted it from time to time, the scent of brimstone wafting from it ever so slightly. She kept meaning to bring it up, but she always got sidetracked. This time, she’d stick to it. It’s the
least she could do for Iris.

  “Where did you get that?” Wick asked.

  “What?” Lily asked, swallowing down a chunk of bread.

  “The jacket.” Wick turned back to look at her, and Lily lowered her head. “Who gave it to you?”

  “A … friend,” Lily answered quietly. She stopped eating her bread and resorted to tearing it into small bites to busy her hands. The harsh tone in Wick’s voice made Lily afraid to say anything about Lux. Besides that, she didn’t really know what to say about him.

  “Whoever gave you this jacket is nobody’s friend,” Wick told her firmly. Lily didn’t say anything and stared down at her lap.

  “He’s not really a friend,” Lily admitted softly.

  Her mind went back to Lux, the way it always seemed to whenever it had a chance. Her heart swelled inside her chest, and she flushed with warmth as her pulse quickened. When he’d left her in the woods, it’d been confusing and painful, but everything else about him felt wonderful. The way he looked at her, the way his hands were hot on her skin, the way he smelled and tasted and felt.

  “Lily!” Wick snapped, pulling her out of her thoughts. “How did you come by this? Did he… did he do something to you?”

  Lily shook her head. “No, no, it’s nothing like that.”

  But what was it like, exactly? As tremendous as all her memories and feelings were about him, very little that had transpired between them had been good, and they’d only know each other a very short while.

  “I met him at the ball,” Lily said at length. “He…” She trailed off, not wanting to tell Wick about the kiss. She’d only react with disappointment. “We talked. He made me feel … like nothing I’ve ever felt before. He asked me to leave with him, and he took me to the Necrosilvam. He told me to go in the woods and hide out, and made me promise to never go home again.”

  “He just left you here?” Wick’s forehead crinkled with confusion. “Why didn’t he want you to go back to the palace?”

  “He didn’t say. He just told me that whatever waited in this forest was better than what waited for me anywhere else.” Lily shook her head and shrugged. “I don’t know what he meant by that but … I know this all sounds crazy, but I know he was trying to protect me.”

  “Did he make plans to meet you again?” Wick asked.

  “No.” A pain tore through her heart as she realized she might never see him again. The thought had occurred to her as soon as he’d left, but she hadn’t let herself worry about it. It hurt too much.

  “You think he rescued you?” Wick asked, bewildered and unbelieving.

  “Yes. I suppose he did.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense.” Wick shook her head and looked back at his jacket. “I’m not sure it’s even possible. They’re incapable of altruistic actions.”

  “They?” Lily stood up, setting her bowl on the floor before walking over to Wick. “What do you know about him? Why don’t you trust him?”

  “I don’t know anything about him personally,” Wick clarified. She lowered her head and attempted to go back to writing in her grimoira, or to at least look like that’s what she was doing.

  “But you know something.” Lily looked at her plaintively. “Wick, please.” She pulled out the chair and sat down across from her.

  “All I know is that his jacket smells like brimstone.” Wick wanted to forget the conversation and wished she’d never brought it up at all, but Lily stared expectantly at her. Sighing, she set her pen inside her book and pushed it aside. “Did your mother ever tell you about irins and daemons?”

  “My mother refused to talk to me about anything like that,” Lily shook her head. “The only things I know I overheard from the servants talking.”

  “They’re not the most reliable of sources.” Wick pushed a stray strand of hair behind her ears and looked down at the table. “I suppose Iris planned on waiting until you were old enough to explain all of this, but she died before she had the chance. I can’t fault her for that, but she’s left you so unprepared.”

  “Unprepared for what?” Lily asked.

  “Our world.” Wick smiled thinly at her. “Before the Earth belonged to man, good and evil lived openly, locked in an eternal battle with each other. Their immortality made them weary of the same fights, so they devised a wager to settle it forever. Whoever won would have complete reign over the Earth, and whoever lost would be banished for all of eternity.”

  “So they created man to settle a bet?” Lily raised a skeptical eyebrow.

  “So the story goes,” Wick nodded. “The most cunning daemon was chosen on the side of evil, and the most valiant irin was chosen on the side of good. They were granted powers and privileges to help them, and while one of them was immortality, it came at a price. They had to make sacrifices to stay alive. For the irin, that meant a chaste life, free of any human pleasures, but for the daemon, that meant something far more deviant.”

  “What do you mean?” Lily rested her arms on the table, leaning in closer to Wick. She hung on every word. “I don’t even really understand what an ‘irin’ is.”

  “They’re angels meant to watch over the Earth, to help mankind in the pursuit of good.”

  “Each of the irin and the daemon were allowed seven minions to help them on their conquests,” Wick continued. “While the minions were essentially created equal, so each side would be matched perfectly, they had one difference; daemon minions were turned from men, but irin minions were born.”

  “So the irin minions are children of angels?” Lily asked.

  “Yes, originally,” Wick nodded. “In order for them to be pure of heart, they had to be descended from an irin. Daniel, the leader of the irins, had seven offspring, called virtus. The virtus are here to serve him and help him in his quest to save the Earth.”

  “So the virtus are immortal, too?”

  “Yes, and no,” Wick said. “They can give up their divinity if they choose, rescinding their immortality and servitude for a human life, but to do so, they must bear a child to take their place.”

  “Why? Why can’t Daniel conceive more children?” Lily asked.

  “He can’t partake in Earthly pleasures,” Wick explained. “That is his sacrifice. He can’t have any more children, and there must be seven virtus on Earth at all times.”

  “Why seven?” Lily shook her head, unable to understand.

  “Each of the seven represent a virtue; castimonia, humilitas, caritas, humanitas, sophrosyne, patientia, and industria,” Wick said, and Lily stared at her. “Its Latin, the language of old, but it means chastity, humility, charity, kindness, temperance, patience, and diligence. Virtus go by their Latin names.”

  “They don’t have real names?” Lily asked.

  “No. When you are under the service of an irin or even a daemon, you don’t have your own name or an identity. Your only wants and needs are that of your master. Your purpose in life is singular – serve and spread the meaning of your title.” Wick watched Lily intently, and Lily stared thoughtfully at the table.

  “So, if you’re the patience virtus, what do you do? You go around and wait for things?” Lily asked.

  “No, you try to teach patience,” Wick said. “You give people the opportunity to be patient, and help them through their strife. While your strength is your own virtue, your mission above all is to help people stay good and true,” Wick said.

  “And for every irin there is a daemon counterpart?” Lily asked. “Does that mean for every virtu there is an equal and opposite daemon minion?”

  “Yes, unfortunately it does, although they are not offspring of a daemon the way virtus are offspring of an irin,” Wick said. “Evil doesn’t need to be pure to work effectively. Daemons wish only to corrupt, so their minions are humans who have given their allegiance to them. They choose to serve the daemons in exchange for immortality, but like the virtus, it can be given up or taken away.”

  “I don’t understand the point of all of this,” Lily shook her head an
d leaned back in her seat. “The concept of angels and demons and their minions running about the Earth. All for what?”

  “For the Earth itself. They have two sides, evenly matched in every way, to see whether good or evil will conquer mankind,” Wick said.

  “How will they decide a winner?”

  “At the end of time, man will stand and be counted, his allegiance tallied, his sins weighed against his virtues,” Wick explained. “No one knows when it will all end, not even the daemons or the irins. It’s those left in the heavens watching that make that decision.”

  “What does this all have to do with me?” Lily realized that there had to be a reason Wick had brought all this up. She didn’t seem the type to go on an existential tangent without merit.

  Wick thought for a moment, deciding how to answer her. Suddenly, she felt something – a tremor in the air, almost imperceptible, and she might have ignored it completely if the apple hadn’t begun to move. The violet apple that Lily had taken a bite out of sat discarded on the dining table, and it started spinning, gaining momentum.

  “What’s going on?” Lily asked, her eyes widening as she watched the fruit.

  “Shh!” Wick held up her hand to silence her, and the apple stopped moving.

  Wick didn’t get up, but she stared out the mottled glass windows, straining to see something in the dark. The apples and the tree were the source of the protective spell around her cottage, and when something tried to enter, they reacted. Usually a small rustling of the branches would signify a charun trying to get through, but the spell itself usually deterred them.

  This time, it felt different. Something slightly more powerful, more sinister, had tried getting in.

  7

  Jinn had actually succeeded in making it past the edge of the clearing. Scelestus had given him an enchanted cloak before sending him into the Necrosilvam, and that had been the only thing that allowed him to get past. His own power rated lower than a charun’s, and he never would’ve stood a chance against Wick’s spell.

  Jinn hobbled through the clearing, doing his best to be sneaky. His bad leg wouldn’t let him crouch low to the ground, but the cloak had some invisibility properties. If someone looked at him directly, they’d see him, but it helped him blend in more with his surroundings. It also had the ability to ward off the trees and most of the vile creatures in the woods, or he would’ve been eaten alive already.