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Chapter 67 - Word of an immortal

Everyone held their breath upon the utterance of the name.

But it took Ran a moment to realize that everyone was just himself and his two friends.

The pink-haired girl, Erisa Ikira, her Tanuki father, and even his own father (Kenija) looked perfectly relaxed. 

The Tanuki was grinning, his daughter was glaring at him a bit. Ran took that to mean they knew what just happened.

Whatever just happened was the most confusing thing he'd ever witnessed. Where was the feeling? That crawling feeling of having your soul being watched from a realm very, very far away. Watched by an entity who basked in your fear, an entity whose name should never be mentioned.

Where was the laugh of crystalline chimes? Of light silvery dings?

He could hear nothing of the sort, nothing of the usual foreboding spirit that accompanied the utterance of that name. 

A name he couldn't even bring himself to think, much less speak.

He looked at the grinning Tanuki who winked at him. "Cool right," the white-haired man said. "Now I have proven to you that I'm worth the hype, what exactly are you here for?"

Ran did not immediately respond. He had something to figure out. 

He reached for his primal core, the white fire burning inside him. He might only be half Fey, but he was not without some of their tricks, especially now that he'd regained his memories as Reficulus.

He'd lived in the Fey realm once upon a time, before his mother saw the need to bring him to Earth. He'd been hunted, he'd done his own fair share of hunts, he'd seen battles of global scopes—he'd watched and he'd learned.

To speak in percentages, he had knowledge of about five percent of Fey kin powers. Mostly because of the little Feyling he could speak. To get better at Fey kin he'd need to tap into the spiritual.

With his Fey and Lagarakei eldritch nature, he knew that if he nurtured his abilities well he stood the chance to be a godlike spiritual being in future.

Anyway, now was not the time for that. He had something to figure out. 

Closing his eyes, he whispered as quietly as he could to himself: "Zien"

A second had barely passed when he staggered back from the overload as his senses, all of them, were opened to the nature of his surroundings—both physical and spiritual.

He sensed the souls of everyone in the room, sensed their emotions, felt the pulses of their lives. But that was not what had his attention.

There was an underlying presence. A familiar aura just beneath the crust of reality, moving in waves—watching.

A gasp tore itself out of his lips as he sensed something in it, something immortality and agelessness. 

It was the astral presence of an archfey or goddess-like being, an immortal extremely long-lived, an agelessness that was a hallmark of fey royalty. 

He felt the spiritual entrancement of eternal youth and beauty. agelessness is a hallmark of fey royalty. 

 

His bond tugged at him and he gave in into what he was sensing, the spirit of the eternally radiant, never aging, divinely enhanced queen.

He regretted opening his senses even as her immense power, existing beyond mortal lifespans, and her vitality tied to the Fey nature itself, wormed its way through him with an ebb and flow of familiarity.

For a moment he became mindless and all that he saw, all that he felt, all that he glorified was her a timeless figure, one that had wielded influence, uncontested, across centuries.

Like one of the pixies, sprites, dryads she held authority over and could summon or command to do her bidding, he was ready to sever her whims. 

And then her voice came to him–

"I can command a retinue of fairies, call upon fey armies and nature spirits to defend my realm and enact her will, summon swarms of sprites to overwhelm my foes, use my power establishes as a ruler to amplify my influence in both the fairy and mortal worlds."

"But why do any of this when I have you, Lan néma?"

A chime of amusement for her caused a bit of her attention to slip from him, granting a small part of his mind the freedom to think briefly without being restrained.

He realised how foolish he'd been to open up his senses. The name of the most powerful psychic in the universe had been mentioned, one who could manipulate dreams and emotions, shape the subconscious or moods of those she encountered, and he'd opened the gates to let her in. A Fey Queen who amongst her vast domains were dreams and the ethereal. 

Now he'd fallen victim to her like all her storied interactions with mortals, he'd been subjected to her ability to blur reality and fantasy. 

He could only hope that her amusement ended here, that she would be satisfied in reminding him of her power, of why he needed to keep fearing her.

He truly feared what might happen should she decide this was not enough. He knew the woman who had birthed him, if she could even be called that.

She was a dream-weaver, one who could inspire visions and nightmares. The last thing he wanted was her chaining him to a geas—to subtly control and guide him as she'd dome with countless mortals in times past, often without their awareness.

She was not above doing that, she was not above tormenting her own offspring. 

He'd know because he'd seen it. He'd seen what had become of the only person who had ever sacrificed his life for him.

He'd seen her ensnare him and bestow magical gifts and curses, granting him boons to favor his cause, punishing those who offend him, wielding the artifacts tied to her realm's kin for his victory. 

 

And just like Ran now, he'd given in then, given in to her completely as she'd granted him blessings of luck and beauty, punished his enemies with curses of damnation and eternal sleep.

He'd seen her favor enhance his charisma and doom those who offended to wander voidways of eternity.

She'd been the best mother to him, had let him wield her mighty scepter and crown of great fey kun to battle, amplifying his spells and protecting his armies. 

Everything she gave him had worked for him as they would for her, she'd been more than life to him, she'd been the divine arbiter of his fate.

He'd always had the support of her emotional impact, of nature and her commanding presence. She'd taught him how to wield nature-based kin and command lesser spirits like her. Taught him how to weaponize benevolence against the Feys of malice. Bestowed upon him near-godlike abilities, high-level spellcasting, wish fulfilling powers, primal omnific transformation, teleportation, and resistance to mortal kin. 

She'd made him her twin in a man's body, given him the grace to, like her, have his powers amplified in her domain, where she could reshape reality itself.

She'd groomed him, and in that she'd done it with the vicious Fey dual nature of being beautiful yet dangerous, nurturing yet capricious. 

She'd turned him into a Fey titan and Ran had experienced the last days of it, he'd even been jealous many times.

He'd been a fool, they had both been fools.

She'd given her all to someone just to fatten them up for a feast.

So of a Fey Queen, Heir of a Fey King, she'd given Frey everything, and then she came for her harvest.

Ran had watched in horror, he'd learned what it meant to trust the word of an immortal, much less their gifts.

Thousands of years of preparing a storehouse, time finally came for her to reap. To reap of her own son.

"My brother," Ran whispered as her spirit flowing through him brought back memories of his brother. 

Tears rolled down his cheeks. "Frey, my brother."

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