Chapter Text
I sing a low tune to the yew
With it my heart revealed
All of it to be read by you
Join me, leave my soul healed
Hear my cries, know where I belong
Read my desire, allay my fears
For my journey please come along
Lend your strength, protect me for years
Bring me what I miss most
Pay you, my soul your price
My energy your fuel
Punish unworthy host
If I don’t suffice
Let the world be cruel
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There exists a world. A whole other universe hidden in the corners of our eyes, just outside of our reach. It’s a world that gets the furthest away from the one who’s trying to look for it the hardest. It is important to the balance of our existence for these worlds to be separate.
That's what the Elders always say. Every day they sit atop the Mother Tree and teach the young of the intruders, the colonisers who steal anything they set their sights on, the ones we must hide from. Humans.
The stories the Elders weave are as intricate and as plenty as the branches of the great Mother Tree they sit upon. The Elders speak of a great lush forest filled with powerful Trees, where Vex could fly freely and bestow brave men with gifts, a peaceful coexistence disturbed by the human need to take all the world’s magic and power for their own.
Not all tales concern humankind - most retelling age old stories of soul-bonds and exploration. All things non-elders have no time for. Which means that the everyday folk have to leave the top branches of the tree, get back to the roots, the stable, earthbound roots, whose purpose is to provide for the tree so the branches can thrive.
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“Human goods for sale! Bring us your coin and leave with a human must-have!” A tall man yells out across the crowd trying to attract the attention of a passerby, his cries are the loudest among the main root of the Mother Tree.
The loud salesman puts a lot of effort into how he looks, it is what attracts most of his customers. He is indeed a charming sight, with a tall and muscular frame made more interesting by the thousands of pale markings which break up his gray skin giving him more of an otherworldly glow. His bright blue, unnaturally green tinted eyes would be his most striking facial feature if not for the huge scar slicing right across his nose. His dark hair is combed back with just the slightest of waves falling onto his forehead, all arranged to make his clients swoon. As most Vex he has two wings, each attached to a shoulder blade, peaking just from behind his back. Huge appendages, made up of thin bones and see-through membrane, give Vex the rare ability to fly.
Overall he made quite an impressive, if approachable, figure. Especially when his eyes shine with excitement when a soul bound couple approaches.
“Good sir” He nods and adds with a bow “madam,” The scarred salesman gestures towards the products on display, "let me interest you in these very exclusive human wares.” He picks up a fragile porcelain teacup. ”An object known in human circles as a 'goblet’ is exactly what a Vex is looking forward to enjoying after a hard day of work.” The man imitates the action of wiping the sweat off his forehead, flexing his right arm in the process. The couple looks at each other bashfully, but seems to reach a silent agreement as they both go back to ogling the, conveniently shirtless, salesman. The man grins, pretending not to have noticed their stares. He has captured his audience’s attention.
“A contraption used by humans for purely lavish reasons. Right before meals they use it to wash their hands in order to properly enjoy their feast. Such a valuable might prove to you -” he gestures at the couple with a flourish “- what it has proven to countless Vex before.” The couple nods along with the man, though his words are lost on them. “That it is a must have in any fae home. Just think about all the possible uses of such an easy to transport item; a carrier for all things cute and small, a portable bathtub a Vex could share with their lovely bride.”
The man lets out a whoosh of magic that makes the wife’s hair sway as if windswept. Her eyes dart bashfully away, yet she continues to watch him out of the corner of her eye. The man continues, his grin steady on his face. “In their primal Vex form of course. And best part of all they come in many different shapes, sizes, designs and colours! So buy one or four today and do not miss out on the best bargain to ever exist!”
The deal concludes in half the time it took for the speech to finish. The soul bound pair chooses a set of three cups, alluding to expecting a new addition to the family, which almost leads to an even longer monologue by the salesman. Thankfully his attention is pulled back by a bag of coins the husband had just taken out of his satchel. After a few more minutes of proposing other items and dropping in a string for free the couple settles on paying for their shopping with half of the bag’s content. As they thank the salesman for his splendid advice, the couple walks away, pointedly not looking each other in the eye, their cheeks still beet red. And a serious talk in their near future.
“My, my, look at you old friend! At the top of your game and looking good as ever.” Comes a shout from the salesman’s right, a few paces behind the leaving pair. The salesman busies himself with storing the coins, mentally counting each one.
When he looks up he can see a man of average height with short blue hair. The not-quite stranger is wearing a very eccentric hat stitched together from all the possible colours of the rainbow and then some. But then again, his entire outfit is similarly coloured, which makes him look both surprisingly cohesive and all the more strange. Scott.
“Well hello there Smajor, is there anything I could interest you in procuring today?” The salesman says, as he watches his new victim closely. A thin diamond crown drapes loosely through the man’s blue hair. Bullseye.
The salesman busies himself in the shop shooting Scott a pleasant smile as he pulls out trinket after trinket. “How about this sheet of fabric known as a skirt for infants? It is rather lovely, humans place it inside the cribs of their soon to be born as a symbol of the child growing inside them.” He fishes out a white, daintily embroidered handkerchief. “Although I will never understand how the baby is supposed to fit into a skirt with no holes.”
Scott looks on, unimpressed with the salesman’s story, and starts fiddling with the stall’s decorations. As he looks up, a display of half-destroyed animal dolls catches his eye. “These look quite nice.”
The salesman follows his gaze and grins wildly.
“Ah yes! My beautiful, precious figurines, oh they have brought me such luck! Humans keep them around as symbols of old gods and their goodwill, believing that it is enough to hold onto a figurine like this,'' He points into the direction of a giraffe plushie with a big piece of its neck torn off, showing the white stuffing inside it. “to bring them the gods’ blessing. They are one of my most upper-shelf and expensive items, as exclusive as human items get.”
Scott lets his eyes peruse the shelf’s contents. He is unable to let go of this one glass owl figurine. It is missing one of its wings. “Scar, tell me, what would you want for that owl statue?” The salesman, named Scar, looks in the same direction as Scott and grins. “Oh a glass figure is not easy to come by my dear miner! But for a friend as splendid as you I might make an exception and sell it for a low low price of your diamond boots'' He points to the translucent shoes Scott is wearing.
“Ha! Not a chance, Scar.” Scott replies, rolling his eyes.
“Oh, well I guess you don’t want it enough to be worthy of it. My bad, here I was thinking you, a proud and accomplished creative, would have liked to add onto this human deity statue, with your own exquisite resources.” Scar lays it on thick.
Scott blinks caught off guard, Scar’s words already sending him into a daydream. He smacks his lips as he starts thinking out loud.
“It’s true, it would look lovely dressed in some wool from the fluffiest sheep, or with eyes made of the deepest stone…” Scott trails off now examining his shoes.
Scar lays a hand on the table. “Look, my friend, I will make you an amazing deal! The owl is yours and you can use your luxuries to get it a new set of colours as I know you want to! What a fun project that would be!” Scott still looks uncertain, Scar reaches behind the counter and fishes out a saddle. “On top of that I will throw in a comfy seat for your llama, it is of the highest quality. I'm sure your companion will love it.” Scar smiles sweetly. “ All yours for the lowest possible price of your headgear including the decorative pieces of course.” Scott absentmindedly touches his pointy ears. Dangling from them are enormous diamond earrings and braided into his hair are pure amethyst and sapphires, placed to make his hat really shine. How stupid would he look without them there to tie his outfit together…
“If it’s a replacement you need I have this leather hat and shoes in the back, they will match, I promise.” Scar adds, knowing this deal has already been struck. “I don’t think I’ve seen you wear leather before, one might even say they’ll freshen up your wardrobe.” Scar announces with a cat-like grin.
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Scar, the salesman, smiles later again when he’s packing both Scott’s diamond headgear and boots into his goodies chest back home. His smile wavers when he notices that those are all the valuables he has left. On his way home he bought some food from the gatherers and farmers with the coins. Normally he’d have more left after the mundane shopping. It seems he’s bringing in less and less profit everyday.
He sighs whilst exiting his chambers and walks into the main room. It’s a big area that acts as both a sitting or dining room and a work space, all connected to a furnished stone kitchen. It’s not a big apartment nor is it in an upper-class neighbourhood, but it’s enough for the two Vex living there, every corner filled with a reminder of some great adventure they were a part of. Pranks pulled by him and his brother.
Scar is absentmindedly blabbering about his day and the scams that took place in the square as he prepares everything on the kitchen counter. As he picks up a knife to start preparing the carrots, he’s interrupted by his older brother.
“All this happened and yet no news about the recent attack. No rumours overheard at the market about this sone, Scar?”
This is asked by a faded, more grey than blue Vex, who sits in a wheelchair in the middle of the living room. Scar’s brother, Cub, is both shorter and plumper than he. His steel blue eyes drilling into Scar’s soul behind a pair of rectangular glasses. From underneath his shirt, right on his shoulders, twin scars peek out. Ones that Scar knows stretch well over Cub’s back.
“To be frank.” Cub says, in a tone bordering on accusatory. “Wels is telling me there’s been a new arrival of survivors today. And you’re trying to make me believe you haven't heard anything? Anything at all?” He tilts his head to the side. “You really didn’t hear anything about this huge shift happening whilst you were out and about in the square today?” Scar cringes at his tone.
To think that is what became of his brother. It is not impossible for a non-flying Vex to be part of the social life in the colony. Neither is it impossible for a non-flying Vex to move around freely in the roots of the Mother Tree. It is not impossible for a non-flying Vex to move on with their lives after what crippled them. To enjoy life.
But all of these things are impossible for Cub.
“For goodness sake we have nowhere to house these fae anymore, we are running out of space, soon enough they’re gonna start either drilling into the bark of the Mother Tree to make room or killing off all the unwanted Vex that were hurt during the attacks.” Cub spat out. He makes it really hard for Scar to listen to him lately.
As always when faced with a difficult situation he would rather avoid, Scar’s mind begins to wander. He thinks about flying through huge fields of green landscape. Of the wind in his hair as he picks up speed, it’s hum the only thing disturbing the silence. Of flying over human villages and experiencing the warmth of their hearths on his skin. Of the peace of it all. Of flying away and leaving everything behind.
“Thirteen more corpses, Scar. All completely soulless, nothing left to bury for the families at all, just empty husks. The monsters didn’t even have the decency to leave them in one piece.” Cub shuddered, his dead eyes sparking with anger. “The new ones are not only missing wings, they are also missing other limbs or organs. The worst ones must be the ones completely skinned. Not even their chosen soul can look at a monstrosity like that anymore.”
What Cub makes easiest, however, is to think about hunting down every last human left on this planet and making them pay for the despair they had caused to Scar’s brother.
Scar puts his knife down with a, louder than strictly necessary, thunk. He lets out a shuddering breath. “I think I forgot to get any mushrooms, silly me, I guess I need to go and get some more from the Lower Stem.” He says, afraid of what he might do if he stays one more second in this house.
He glances at his shell of a brother who’s sitting in a chair by the window. “Don’t wait up for me, if I don’t get back in fifteen minutes eat by yourself.” Cub doesn’t answer him.
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After escaping the stifling house, Scar makes his way along the roots into the newest survivors camp that was set up earlier that afternoon.
He needs to see for himself how badly this attack has affected the other Vex. How much of what Cub has said was to get a rise out of him and what was true. He can’t let himself drown in Cub’s world. One of them needs to be functional.
The first thing he hears is crying.
There's a small girl sitting by the fountain in the Under Bush Square. Well, more like laying atop her mother’s lap, crying into the blond woman’s shoulder so profusely there’s a wet spot in the fabric. The girl’s voice sounds haggard, like she’s scraped her throat hoarse from screaming. She pushes her face farther into her mother’s shoulder, uncaring of how it smears tears, mucus and spittle over her face.
The woman, in contrast, is completely silent. Her expression haunted, her eyes devoid of the glow of a soul bond. Scar gasps, what a cruel fate, having known love and having lost it forever. The broken woman trails her hand over her daughter’s back, stilted and robotic. Whether she does it to comfort her daughter or herself is anyone’s guess.
Or not, Scar decides after a moment of thought. It’s meant for her daughter. This woman will never know comfort again.
She looks up. Up, straight into Scar’s eyes.
And then he is running. Scar is running. Away. Away from her empty eyes. Away from the screams that populate the area.
He runs like that for quite a while, the pounding of his feet over cobblestones his only companion. When he can’t stay on his feet anymore he switches to flying, using his big membrane clad wings to carry him up and away. He flies till he can’t see the colony anymore, he stops when he can touch the clouds.
He hangs in the air, weightless, before falling again. Close to the treetops. Close enough to breach the Human-Vex world border.
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Scar gets back home late. The kitchen is in the same exact state it was before he left. Carrot still uncut and knife by its side. He sighs and finishes making the stew, wild thoughts pounding around his head.
Scar made his decision somewhen before his feet touched the ground again. Now that he is tethered to the ground again he expects his thoughts to change, his mind to wander and yet. The more he thinks about it the more sense it makes.
After all, he is Vex. Vex are being killed in large quantities by humans, more sadistically than ever before. He is a Vex who is fascinated by human creations, he is a Vex who’s not uncomfortable with leaving the colony. Scar has had enough of watching his people fade away from him. He has had enough of Cub’s pessimistic mind taking over.
He is not afraid of humans. He feels for his kin.
He can end this.
Scar can stop the pain, could put the end of the ever increasing amount of lost and broken Vex.
He must.
But how?
As Scar picks up the knife he used for stewmaking, he evaluates what he knows about humans. He is proud of his vast knowledge, and yet all his sales stories always stem from what he can figure out by piecing together how Vex act and how he could imagine himself acting if he were human. Why did humans create the teacup? Oh well from a Vex point of view and understanding of humans, that must have been an invention meant to store water. What for? Well it is perfectly hand sized, maybe it is meant to be drunk from? No, no, that’s stupid, that’s what regular cups are for. Maybe for hand washing then? Yes! That must be it.
Taking this approach this time Scar wonders about the attacks. Any attack must have a reason. What is the reason? To be cruel? To be more powerful? No. That would be the answer in Cub’s world, but Scar has ventured further, he has seen pictures amongst the lost things he finds, pictures of loved ones, of big happy smiles. Captured moments of human kindness and hardship.
No not all humans are cruel, the same way not all Vex can be gatherers or creatives. Someone teaches them, someone leads them. In any colony it is the leader that knows of all the comings and goings of their people. It probably holds true for humans too.
In that case then, there is one person who definitely knows of, if not actively encourages, the killings. One who has a lot to gain from this carnage.
The human leader, the ruler.
The King.
He is who must be stopped for all the pain to go away. He is who Scar must find and hold accountable for what has been happening.
And Scar can just make that happen. With enough patience.
The next day there’s a letter by his brother’s door and a new sign up on the front of the stall.
“Left to get more human bits!”