The Others

The city was cold and quiet when Tyto landed on the castle ramparts, knees weak and shoulders heavy with fatigue. The wind was sharp from the northern ice mountains, slamming into him with enough bite to bring his senses back to his skin.

The Dunes had been built in a sprawl of sharp, chilling beauty of white stones and translucent crystals, cobbled to its narrowest alley and lit bright with maegelight. Its spires and domes were of shimmering starlight and its walls were woven with old magic, reflecting the snow-capped mountains that circled them. The moon hung low in the stretch of midnight sky, its pale light turning the city into a glimmer of pale rose, ice blue and deep purple.

But the wind was harsh and the light too low. Even the air he breathed felt different, weaker as if the very land knew something was amiss. His Queen was no doubt in a vicious mood, he thought wryly.

His clothes had been wet from the storm he had been caught in and was starting to freeze over his body in the chill of the winter city. No longer wishing to deprive himself of closed quarters and knowing the sooner he spoke to his Queen, the sooner he would find sleep, Tyto turned away from the fading blue light of his portal to make do towards the eastern staircase.

No one had noticed his arrival. Certainly not the sentry that dozed by the wall, head leaning onto his spear, unheedful of anything around him.

Tyto only rapped the sentry’s helmet thrice and watched with amusement as the guard straightened in alarm and paled at the sight of him. “My lord.”

“Only the widest eyes catch the daggers in the dark,” said Tyto, smirking.

He left the gulping sentry in the cold night, as he took the stairs three at a time, his feet blindly finding its way to the Queen’s private quarters, following the thread that wound him to her. The chambers were by far the grandest in the castle, built deep into its hallowed heart. On the Queen’s good days, he called it the Garden, for the ice-blue roses and deep violet cornflowers that crept up the pillars and walls. On the Queen’s bad days, he called it the Witch’s Lair. It looked as it did now, for it was not flowers but dagger-sharp icicles that stared back at him, in a cold that turned his breath to mist.

The few servants and guards that milled around were shivering, despite the thick cloth that covered their body, all the way from their necks to their fingertips. They flitted past him in pale blue garb, skirting wide and sticking to the edge of the halls, some even coming to a complete standstill. Some averted their eyes and some bowed, but all those who looked, paled at the sight of his pitch-black eyes and razor smile.

Tyto ignored them all, coming to a stop before a set of tall doors, behind which he could feel the thread that looped to his Queen. He caught his breath and squared his shoulders, but as he was about to stride through, the doors flung open, and a black-clad figure appeared before him, lips parting in surprise. She was tall and graceful, with a mane of black waves that curled into her ebony cloak and green eyes that glowed in her tan face.

Not known for her subtlety, Ariel simply raised a sleek brow and greeted him with, “Were you trying to drown yourself?”

Tyto’s lips quirked. “Rough flying,” he said, resisting the urge to flinch as he looked into mirrored crystal wall. His brown hair was wet and limp against his pale face, and his black eyes were weary with sleep. His clothes had turned stiff in the cold and ice lined his tunic. “Rougher than I thought,” he amended, straightening his jacket and raking his hands through his hair.

“No rougher than what you will find inside,” said Ariel, scrunching her nose. “Her humour is as fragile as her body.”

“No doubt you have left her more sour than you found her,” he muttered.

To his surprise, Ariel did not snap but closed her eyes in frustration, her long lashes resting against her cheek. “She wants the Elderworld’s heart.”

The Elderworld was Ariel’s Other world, a place of monsters and cruelty, a place she abhorred. All the Queen’s spies had their own Others, a place where they spent their nights, tasked with finding a heart that would replace their own world’s failing one. Despite the increasing qualms about his own Other, Tyto was glad he was not Ariel. There were nights where she had come back to the Dunes wounded and bleeding. Some nights, where she came back on the verge of death and some, where she came back broken, carrying wounds in her heart. To replace their world’s heart with a thing of such foulness, was to turn into the monsters they so detested. No, he told himself, his Queen was no such fool.

“She’s tired,” he said aloud.

“She’s dying,” snapped Ariel. “Her source is sparse and grows thinner by the day. And all you do is give excuses.”

Tyto smirked and ignored her taunts, “Perhaps her favourite spymaster can lend her some amusement. I do have such charming tales of the humans from my Other.”

Ariel who saw clear through his lies, only grinned like the feral cat she was and said, “There’s only so much your hooting can do,” before she plucked a stray brown feather from his jacket and sauntered away.

Tyto shook his head, ridding himself of the nerves Ariel always left him with and pushed through the doors of the Queen’s private throne room. The hall was square and tall, its walls shimmering from the maegelight that bounced like bobs in the air. A thousand crystals hung from the ceiling, swaying with the faint wind that breezed through the room, sharp enough to impale those below. The only drop of colour in the room was a large red crystal carved into the southern wall; the maegelight trapped inside it was dull, hardly enough, to light an entire world.

Their world’s failing heart.

His Queen was not seated on the elegant throne atop the dais, but lay on her back at the centre of the room, staring at the ceiling with what was clearly pain in her glowing grey eyes. Her white hair was long and loose, framing her beautiful brown face like the rays of the sun. She was clothed in a pale silk nightgown that covered her like a second skin, hardly enough to keep safe her body from the cold.

“Tytochiel,” she said, her voice old despite the young face that gleamed with sweat. Tyto disliked being called that. It meant the Keeper of Knowledge. A name meant for a scholar. Not a thief and spy.

He bowed low and said, “My Queen. Is there anything I can do to appease your mind?”

“You can find me your Other’s heart,” she replied coldly. “Tell me, spymaster, how long does it take to find one? All my other spies have found theirs.”

Tyto uneasily remembered what Ariel had said about the Queen lusting after the Elderworld’s heart. No, he thought, one wrong word could set them adrift.

“My Other remains in chaos, my lady,” he said, surprised that his voice was calm. “A plague has taken over their world, bringing a stop to their usual life. Tracking down their world’s source in so much despair has made it… hard.”

“Plagues,” scoffed his Queen, the air in the room turning a shade colder. “Humans are such simple creatures. But theirs must be a cold heart indeed to thrive on such despair.”

Tyto who had not meant it in such a way knew to not voice his thoughts.

Humans intrigued him. Made him pause and wonder at the way their minds worked. As much as immortality had made Tyto unappreciative, short lives had made humans feel deeply. They were always juggling things, both good and bad, balancing both sides of the same coin as they rushed past their lives. He had seen honour in them as he had seen sin, he had seen companionship rise amongst the worst of situations as he had seen strife amongst the good.

“They can surprise you,” he said aloud.

But his Queen’s eyes sharpened. “Take heed Tytochiel, for there is only so much pain I can bear. Every day you tarry, this world grows weak,” she said, viciously. “This Kingdom needs a heart – I need one. And if you don’t find it, I will have no choice but to take the Elderworld’s dark source. Any life is better than death.”

Their ruler’s lifeline was their world’s lifeline. It had been decreed so by the wretched Gods who had created them all those eons ago. Perhaps it had not occurred to them, that a ruler would be born with a weak body. Their Queen’s mind, however, was anything but weak. She had gathered them all, her spymasters and her world-walkers, her sweet pets as she called them and tasked them to travel to the Other worlds. To find and steal another world’s heart to replace hers. To save her and save their world.

At the expense of another.

Her words stayed with him, long after he had left her. For the rest of the day, it whispered in his ears. As he lay his head to sleep, it rang like a bell in his mind and came alive in his dreams. He woke at sunset and dressed, in his usual brown leathers and silver knives, before leaving his chambers to return to his Other for the night.

The city was still hushed as he walked towards the ramparts, as if all his people could manage was to whisper to each other. He felt tired despite his sleep, troubled despite his clear orders. The servants milled around with exhaustion and the guards could hardly stand straight. Everywhere he looked, he saw his Queen’s weakness seeping into the land and its people.

He found Ariel leaving to her Other as well, her ebony hair flying wild in the harsh wind. She turned to look at him as her dark portal circled her like a halo of shadows. She heard his boots and turned to give him, what he could only call a beseeching look before she stepped through her portal and disappeared.

Tyto turned to stare at his dying city and smiled faintly at the beauty that glared back.

As he created his own pale blue portal, and not for the first time, Tyto wondered whether Ariel knew his secret. That he had long found his Other world’s heart and he had kept it safe for a time now.

Humans were not simple but intricate. For despite their arrogance and deceptions, despite their envy and greed, despite their selfishness and violence, there was still good in them. They battled with it every day and fought with courage and spirit. Tyto was no fool; he knew everything came to an end and one day, so will their battle. Perhaps it would end sooner than later, saving him from the fate of deciding which to save. Perhaps they would destroy themselves and he would save his world. Or perhaps they will overcome and thrive. One could never know with humans.

For now, he stepped through the portal and felt his bones shrink and skin change. His clothes disappeared into the void of magic and his body turned limp with fall. But within a heartbeat, his wings opened and he took flight. For he was no longer the Winter Queen’s spymaster but a simple barn owl in the world he spied. The clouds parted and gave way to grey winter fields and barren trees. And milling through it, were humans, so unknowing of the worlds that existed along with theirs.