Reflection [Monologue]

[Akatala]

Cael D'Thurr and Amos Crookfeather

Time: Soon after Miss Hamilton spent her last summer with her uncle.

Green eyes blazed into the darkness of the night, watching the mortals scurry to complete errands and get home for the night. The pure black cat turned to bathe his tale. He had seen all of this before.

The cat had spent many a fall of dusk watching from his favorite window seat perch in a castle the humans saw simply as a ruin sitting atop a thickly forested hill. A hill that seemed like a pristine window into long ago stuck at the edge of a modern Irish town. Actually, folks now called it a "suburb". Just as long as there was a boundary of untouched forest between him and the big city, he was fine.

This was his town. A nice little valley with a small river, and forested hills surrounding. His hill, of course was the tallest. These days, it was filled with farmers from old and new people who preferred small town life to the smothering big cities, one of which was not so far away along the small highway that passed by town. To him, it was, however, one of the few pockets in the human world where magick still dared to dwell somewhat as it always had. Magick in the form of a small kingdom, or dominion as they preferred it, of faeries. Humans called this place Whispering Spring. The faeries called it NightGale, after the dominion's king.

Him. Cael. Cael D'thurr the NightGale. The rogue faery who used his charisma to gather a select group of those willing to take a chance. With them, long ago, sick of the politics that plagued the Otherworld just as they did this one, he left to do as was done long ago. To claim a hill for his own. So he did. He may not be a major court king, but out here, to the people who shared their lives with him, he was still a faery king.

The black feline licked his whiskers smugly as he gazed out over the little town that remained silently still ruled by faeries. Most never paid attention to the signs. Those that did, either left or rarely spoke about it. Unless of course, they were those few souls who's family stories still included tales of the Sidhe (sh-ee) or, as the English dubbed them, Faery folk.

Staring down at his dominion, Cael purred as he watched his kin revel in the twilight dusk of this spring evening. Seen as fleeting shadows by night, or the dancing glow of fireflies, or simple ordinary animals skittering about, his kin loved this town as much as he did.

A sudden squawk in the voice of a perturbed songbird startled the cat, who spun to pin the offender to the foliage-print papered wall beside the window with the lightning swipe of a claw bared paw. Ears pinned to his head, eyes glowing bright green, Cael let out an echoing hiss as wind instantly turned from a subtle breeze to a swift gale and storm clouds began to form in the last light of the sky.

The bird screeched in pain, but then froze, knowing better than to do anymore to upset the Faery King. His accidental spooking of the Faery Sire was already enough to threaten the town with one of their frequent unexplainable squalls. After all the rain they'd had in the past week, they certainly didn't need anymore.

Fixing his narrowed eyes upon the bird head tacked to the wall, Cael recognized his high retainer, a currently starling-formed faery named aptly dubbed Amos Crookfeather. Relaxing, to a mere fraction of his previous ire, Cael released the bird who took on his faery form as he dropped to a bowing puddle on the floor. In his faery form, Crookfeather became a slightly gaunt looking older fae wearing marigold-accented navy robes, with a small hunch in his back and a mop of salted black iridescent hair on his bowed head.

"I.. I do ever humbly apologize, my Noble Sire, for my most disrespectful behavior. I should have continued waiting to be recognized, even when my calling of thy royal name did nae meet the requirements of your attention at the time! I shall make every effort to repent for my most poor judgement, Noble Sire!" the retainer rambled in a most anxious and quaking fashion.

Cael growled low then turned his back to the blubbering fae in order to return to his seat. The wind outside slowly died as the clouds that had begun to threaten a torrent faded to simply cloak the sky in elegant mists that slowly fell along with the deeper shadows of night.

The Faery King's voice was a deep silk that promised death as easily as it seduced, "You may be silent now, fool. Unless you think you can compose yourself enough to speak without sounding like the lamb facing a puma. I should think your current job title says that you are capable of acting with a bit more backbone than a squid."

Crookfeather again froze but did not move from his prostrating pose upon the chestnut hardwood floor. His voice came a bit stronger, yet not entirely void of the quiver of fear, "Of course, Master. I shall strive hard to show better manners, my Noble Sire. I was bidden to inform you that His Young Sir, Krisstaerynn, has arrived to begin his official service within Your Court."

This news, of course, took the last of the aggression from Cael and turned immediately into pleasure, for he was as fond of the young fae boy as he was the boy's most lovely mother, Rhynne, the River Countess of the Court. Cael even allowed a faint smile upon his feline face, "Ahh, that is indeed good news. Is his mother to attend the Feast and Ball this eve? Or has she stayed to her post which she so expertly keeps, despite the sacrifice to herself?"

"The Countess is in Attendance with the Page, Noble Sire, " Crookfeather announced, the fear leaving him as his lord's emotions easily settled within him, filling him with a similar happiness that tonight's festivities would be a night to remember.

It was rare when the Countess attended court to pay homage to the King, as despite the chemistry that existed between them, it was known to all that her late husband, one of Cael's best knights, would always remain her one true love. Even still, there would be a dance this night. The dominion had long needed an evening of pleasant memories, watching their King show rare true happiness as he did when he danced with her.