Capricorn's Story

It was amazing how these humans worked, always running around like ants, never knowing whose thumb they were under. Oh, sure, they thought they knew. The government? Religion? No, it was their own minds that contained them, pressing them into the servitude of others. They had sprung up like weeds in a flower patch, and the Fae was the weed killer. Iokul Frosti, also known as Jack Frost, stood atop the Empire State Building, disgusted by the ants that milled about themselves. An odd looking paintbrush was within his right hand, while in his left heavily gloved hand, was the rod at the tip of the building. The sky was grey, after it expelled the last of the snow within their bellies, but, with a single swipe of his brush, they became black, and rumbled noisily. They knew what he was, and did not care, because he was using them as an ant queen is used by her workers and drones, pushing more and more snow out of its belly. He loved it here, and did not wish to return home.

There weren't any of his children when they arrived, or so he thought. Since their appearance onto this plane, more and more of the Fae began to pop up all over the world. This had surprised him, but, after asserting his dominance over those that appeared, they were left to their own devices. Many had voiced their concerns about what he was doing in the human city of New York. 'Had' being the key word, as many of their bodies were decorating his estate up in a place called Albany. They were such lovely statues of ice, or they would have been, if their heads were still intact. A shame, really, he did have need of allies, but if they were not ready for him, then why would any try to make him leave?

"A pity," his grumble was only echoed by the clouds above. These "Fae" were not even that. They had become saturated by the mortals they had been charged to govern over, allowing them to flourish without guidance of any kind. They had been corrupted by these ants, cowed and corralled with the threat of iron upon their very existence. This would make any ruler boil with rage, and he was not immune to such. His glamour shattered, revealing a terrible being, and called upon the North Wind, bringing a deep ice onto the land below. It howled his rage, tore open the clouds, causing the snow within to become a harsh and bitter blizzard. The ants below scattered into their stone and iron buildings, he let go of the rod.

His body plummeted from the building, just as a peel of lightening struck the rod, causing the stone about it, cracking it asunder. During his fall, the wind caressed his cheeks and lips, just like a lover would. His eyes were closed during the fall, but when he opened them, he could just see a wind sprite, smiling before it planted a kiss upon his lips. The feeling was exhilarating, and would have made his Queen jealous. He mentally shook himself of such thoughts, and focused on the sprite and their surroundings. The world had gotten blacker, fluffier, and a shining smile beamed from his self. Giggles soon erupted around him, as he settled himself down among the cloud-like material. "Ladies," began Jack, "how may I honour the occasion?"

"You asked us to search the world for your Queen," a silky whisper entered his left ear, and when he turned, thin wisps of air escaped his peripheral vision. "We have not found her," the tone became saddened, and small droplets of water pattered his collar, "we are sorry, my lord Jack." It wouldn't until be later, that he realized the droplets of water upon his collar were his own, but at the time, his thoughts were only of greater sadness.

"Continue searching." His whisper was barely audible, but they all heard it. "I must plan a raid." The form of Iokul Frosti vanished, then, and continued to plummet to the ground. As he continued to plummet, however, a portal opened up on the ground below. Once entering it, his surroundings became of those of one who had exquisite tastes in furnishings. Golds, purples, reds, blues, and greens covered the room before him, and at his feet, a throne made up of iron wood. Iron wood, a tree only found in the forests of Summer, but as hard as the humans' own iron, without the side effects, though. Two cards appeared within his left gloved hand, both, a pair of ravens. "Summon them. We have work to do."

Humans of this world are such an annoyance to the race of the Fae. What with their insentient behaviour towards one another, and that they seek the companies of others, like they did with me. We would have them under our heels and thumbs by now, if it were not for the fact that they held our one weakness to every throat of our kind. Iron. Even to this day, that taste of metal brings bile to my tongue. Why must these despicable creatures be able to wield such a force, when ours are so much the better? A trick question, to be sure, but a question that must be answered.

Capricorn sat at a desk in front of a large window overlooking the harbour, and would have wrote more if he could, only if t'were not for the fact that the glass cracked. With a simple tsk against his teeth, the Autumn Fae stood tall, and donned his glamour charm before closing the small diary with the pen inside. 'Only our beloved King would dare to ruin such a string of thoughts from the one as such as I.' No matter how hard he blew his horn, the world will simply not obey. It was strange, if one were to think on such things. A Fae, such as the King, with all the backings of Winter, and of Chaos, could, quite simply, level the world with a single thought. And yet, he did not. Why he did such things was beyond him, but then again, so were the inner workings of the human minds.

Stepping through the doorway of his simple, but efficient, apartment, he came upon another apartment door across his own. By stepping into this own, however, a scene of gross horror wafted his nose in a gleeful greeting. The scents of fear, feces, and urine greeted him, but if any others, be they of lesser Fae or human, would not see what he has done. Torture implements of various designs lighted the walls with blood and gore, and many other Autumn Fae scurried about with notes and pens. Each wore a surgical mask, heavy gear, including liquid resistant gloves and boots, but all carried at least one torture device in their hands, and/or pockets. They had taken upon themselves to try and find out how the humans ticked, but also found out something interesting. There was iron in their blood. This horror was immediately shared among the Unseelie Courts, along with the warning of not letting any touch them. For if one human were to bleed on their kind, the other would most likely die. The could not find out how much iron was in their blood, but it was better to be safe, than it is to be sorry.

"Capricorn," came a solemn growl from each of the Fae, as all stood where they were, turned towards him, and bowed low. "Oh, do get up," he growled back at them, "There is human blood on the floor, and we do not need another incident like last time." He was referring to what had happened the month before, when this project had begun to take place. They didn't find out about the iron in the blood, until one of their own slipped and fell into a rather large pool of the substance near a table. It had thrashed madly, and swallowed some of the liquid, smoking faintly, before bursting into flame. All were panic stricken, including himself, and, after several intense studies, it was found that the blood within the humans had, indeed, contained the dread mineral called iron.

"How go the tests on the prisoners?" His voice shook and rang with authority that only he could muster. Not only was he their leader, but he was the second-born, and favourite of the King.

"Their brains are like nothing we have seen before, sir," piped up a small voice. A young female stepped forward, and pushed a rather clean chart into his hands. "I made sure to clean the blood off," she mumbled slightly. None, here, wanted to hurt him. At least, not until the King's favourite made enough of a blunder to warrant his death. "We have extracted many memories and information from prisoner 0114, and have found that he does, indeed, work for IPAF." Hisses came from the throats of all here, as there was little to no love for the bastards that would torture their own as gleefully as they did to them.

"Good, but what of their brains?" His question was full of intrigued, which caused the female to brighten considerably. If he was interested, then that meant his full attention was on the subject at hand, if not, then he didn't give a rat's ass about it, and moved on.

"Well, sir," she began, but nervously, "It has been discovered that they have a sort of lizard-like quality to them." When prompted to explain, she continued with, "They are barely more intelligent than those scaly creatures we've seen crawling in those 'zoos' we've been to. We have already reverted several subjects to that level, and, well..." She trailed off, and pointed towards an open door. Once he stepped inside, however, his eyes widened, and the glamour about his shoulders shattered. The humans inside the room were penned up like wild animals; chains wrapped around their necks like collared animals. There was something odd about them, though. Many had claws, whereas others had odd skin patterns, but their eyes were all a solid gold colour.

"Find our king," he said gruffly, pointing to the ceiling above them, "And tell him we have his raiding party ready for tonight."

IOKUL FROSTI/CAPRICORN

The "raid", that was what he, the King, had called it. A grand adventure with which to put a blot into the eyes of the IPAF. IPAF, such an odd name for a small group of clowns that would as soon as kill you, as look at you. They cared little, save for their own skins, and, even then, their skins were worth less than the dirt it was formed from. He had thought that the humans would have accepted his reign over them, even put up a grudging resistance, before falling into disarray. No, they had brought their war machines made of iron, and slaughtered many, before finding out that they were as helpless to their magicks, as his own were to their irons. It was funny how they screamed their agonies and dismays over the torrential downpour of ice and snow. Unfortunately, he could feel that side of him evaporating, causing his temper to flare like the morning stars. No, the ice will hold out for a couple more moons, at least, before the heat settled in, making life unbearably hot.

The thoughts of Iokul then shifted back towards the present, back towards his "planned raid". Truth be told, he didn't have a "plan", only a vague location of where one of the IPAF facilities were located. An island called Manhattan, and the reports of Fae-like creatures being escorted to a place called the Bronx. There was an abandoned apartment complex in the north eastern section of that city, and that was where they were going to strike, and strike hard. A small grin split his face, as the chilled air became colder, almost to the point that it muffled the sounds of the outside. With his own senses, he was able to find a disturbance in his ice. It was minute, but he could tell that there were cracks forming in it that were centered around the door. "My King," came a muffled voice, "we are ready for you."

Standing quickly, he wrapped his glamoured body in an over shirt that had the appearance of being made of heavy fabrics. It was, in fact, only made of a light fabric that can only be found in the realms of Winter. The creature that bore such threads to make the fabric was that of a snow-silk spider. It secured the borders of Autumn and Winter, making sure all were safe, so to speak. It was normally found with an unknown animal carcass strapped to its back, whilst scuttling along the bare trees that were called its home. His only wish was to bring those creatures of Winter with him, but alas, they could not make the journey.

The fabric, however, was made up of sturdy fluids from the creature's back side, and was stronger than the iron-wood they had brought with them. It kept most of the humans' iron projectiles away from his icy flesh this long, and, doubtless, it would continue to do so. The fabric was also stretchable, in that he used it to construct a robe that lowered itself to his ankles. Unfortunately, this caused it to become thinner, and will cause serious harm if it were to be used against a hail of iron projectiles from the humans. Absentmindedly, he fingered the golden locket about his neck slowly, as he reached above the door, and placed his hand into an opening. Inside were several decks of cards that he, himself, had painstakingly painted for emergencies. They were filled with his own essence, and, when one card was cast in front of him, it would come alive, but only for a short time. He was only able to give them a sort of 'half life', because, without Raena, he would be unable to create beings of true life.

The deck his hand grabbed had a label on it: 'Human Nightmares'. These were crafted out of the beasts that gave humans frights, more so than there were-beasts and vampires that stalked the night. Once he opened the frozen door, he was greeted by what looked like a dead sapling-like humanoid with sour green eyes, in a white and red lab coat. The creature was, obviously, a lesser creature of the Autumn courts, and a loyal subservient of his favourite, Capricorn. "My lord," its limbs rustled slightly before continuing with, "We are ready for the events of tonight."

"Good," came the wintery reply of Iokul, "Then we meet in the north eastern area of the city called Bronx." With that, he charged the ice wall in front of him, and leaped at it. Just before his body hit it, his reflective image rippled, causing what looked like a small portal opening into a snow capped roof that overlooked another building. After rolling about the snow for a few seconds, he leaped to his feet, and pulled out a card that looked much like a deformed raven, but was made up of frost, and tossed it in front of him. By pricking his right forefinger, he snatched up the card, swiped the image with his life blood, and tossed it into the air once more. The creature came, shrieking out of the card, and alighted itself atop a chimney pipe, where it glared at the world about it. Beneath its claws, however, the pipe began to freeze over, and crumbled to snow dust. "Watch the skies," was all he said to it, but it was enough to send it into the air, shrieking madly enough to gain anyone's attention. 'Good.' A grin appeared suddenly, just as a much larger storm blasted about them.

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The sapling that had run off, returned with news that their king had gone on ahead of them. A small groan ensued from the skull of their leader, followed by a bony slap as its left skeletal hand hit its face. He should know better to expect such antics of the king by now, but even then, this event was borderline stupidity. No doubt, he had created a snow storm large enough to warrant the attentions of the armies of the humans, but there was nothing they could do about it. Nothing, except press forward with his plans. "This 'raid' he has us going on," the skeletal chattering of Capricorn's voice echoed throughout the room, silencing all other noises, save for those that were chained to the walls, "Where is it?"

"North and east within a city called 'The Bronx', sir," came the sapling's reply, which was answered with another groan, and a skull slapping. It was clear on the other side of town, how were they going to get there? He was about to voice this question, when the sapling piped up with, "He has a portal open upstairs, sir."

If his true form had muscles around the left eye, they would have twitched in irritation. However, because they do not, he merely snapped the finger bones of his right hand, and pointed to four of the larger versions of the saplings, then said, "You four will take eight of the furred humanoids, and make your way to the king's side." Two other saplings were then brought forward at his call, "You three will gear up, and prepare areas of rest for those that will be brought in from the facility." The voice was raised, then, so that all may listen to his next words, "There have been reports that members of both courts were seen taken into the facility we are about to attack." Only blinks and stares greeted this statement, "We shall be bringing those that we find back, and place them here, until such time as we can relocate them. Understand?" Nods all around, which soon turned into a sort of controlled chaos, as the beasts were ushered out with magickal chains about their necks. A few had to be dragged out, though, but once they smelled the cold air, all were eager to leave. 'This was going to be one of those days.'

Stepping out into the frigid air was a nice change of pace. Or, it would be, if Capricorn was given anything in regards to sensory motions and organs. The dark, tattered fabric that hugged his bony form flapped like a ruin sail in a windstorm. He had taken the time to equip his elegant scythe that was one of four, crafted by the king himself. An air of extreme boredom soon rippled through the Autumn Fae, only to intensify as he stepped next to Iokul, who was overlooking the building that was supposed to be in front of them.

"Surely you must know that the humans' gaze will turn this way, once they realize that the storm has intensified in this region," called the Fae over the howling of the winter storm.

"I know," whispered their leader, which, to their ears, sounded as though he were speaking to them in a small room. He had an array of cards in his left hand, and marked each one with the life blood from his right. They were then tossed into the air, causing four frost ogres to appear below them. They stood, half a metre wide, and nearly crested two metres tall. These would be their reinforcements, if they so chose. "Send the beasts in."

At a nod from Capricorn, the large saplings released their charges, which were busy sniffing the air to notice. At a small twitch, a shriek of an otherworldly voice came hurtling out of the sky, and slammed with a meaty thud into an unseen body. The untethered beasts soon caught the scent, and, howling with glee mingled with hunger, leaped from the roof, charging towards the scent of blood. Miniature explosions were soon heard from the complex, as the humans fought with their iron projectiles, firing them into the beasts that once were humans.

"Go." At this small command, the horror that was named 'Reaper' flowed from the building's roof, and charged into a blood bath. A metallic taste filled the air, which didn't bother him in the least. What did, however, were the pools of human blood that filled the entry way that the beasts had created. It was like a scene from a human horror movie he had seen a few days ago. It was as though someone had taken a brush, dipped it in human gore, and painted the walls, floor, and ceiling with it. Anyone with half a brain could tell he was smirking, even though he did not have any lips to speak of. With a wave to the ogres, he watched as they lumbered towards, the past him, searching any remnants of the humans that occupied the place.

Careful of where he stepped, Capricorn dashed down the hall to his right, only to find the remnants of stairs that led downwards. He called one of the ogres over to himself, then commanded that it go down first. For a few moments, nothing happened. No explosions, no howls, nothing, and when he poked his skeletal head down the stairwell, he came upon a sight that would only cause the most hardened of Fae Warriors' blood turn to ash. It was as though he had stepped into a mad doctor's laboratory. About four of his siblings from the Autumn courts were fileted like fish, and spread out over nearly a dozen tables. Bones, tissue, organs, hair, everything, and anything that made up the Fae, was on display for the world to see. Rage filled his core, then, and would have overtaken him, if it were not for a tiny voice saying "H-help m-m-m-me," to drag his attention away from the carnage.

Two barely alive creatures of the Winter Courts were strapped to heated iron-like slabs. One was female, but was within an inch of death, while the other, another female, had tears in her doe shaped eyes, as though she was just placed onto the slab a few moments ago. With a few precise slashes of the scythe, he lifted the body of the Winter female, just as the other let out her last breath. "Destroy everything," his howl echoed throughout the complex, and perhaps, it was even heard along the edges of the city proper. A full report to his king would be made, soon, but for now, this female needed attention, and badly. The way out would feel as though it was a thousand kilometre hike through gelatin, but he kept walking, stepping through the iron-blood that was starting to freeze over, whilst barely listening to the ogres' rampage, smashing everything, and anything in sight. They would do their job, then fade away like the others did, but not until this place was nothing, but a snow capped mountain of ruin.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Kiser asked, leaning against the doorframe as he watched the Fey beasts tear the lab apart. The cold dug into the walls of the building, seeping into every inch of the Earth like skeletal fingers made of steel. The Were raised a brow, watching the fair coloured Fey with disdain. The Fey cradled a Type D in his arms and Kiser would've assumed he himself was a mere Type C had he not sensed the power that rolled from his skin, so thick it was nearly tangible. The IPAF commander assumed he should've been afraid then but alas, a Were's instincts overtook any sort of fear, replacing it with instead rage. Kiser had received an urgent message from IPAF Research Lab 86B, speaking of the deaths of dozens and the infiltration of their building. Of course, he would've noticed the monstrous blizzard in the distance without having to have received the call.

As a Were, the cold affected him little. His body was naturally much more heated than the average human's. In fact, he could hug a wall of ice and melt right through it. Not that he ever would, of course. Weres disliked the cold, however much it did not affect them. Kiser narrowed his eyes at the destruction, a small part of him impressed at the damage that had been done. The Type C before him clearly was not merely a Type C and being not quite stupid - most of the time - Kiser knew he could not defeat these Fey singlehandedly. He supposed it might've been a mistake to arrive here with only a dozen men but IPAF had many at its disposal, the deaths of a dozen would not impact it greatly, neither would the destruction of one lab. After all, most of the Fey they'd kept here were dead.

"Go," he whispered into his earpiece. Without a moment's pause, he spun and ran, his body rippling through the air as his muscles warped into that of an abnormally large lion. Men crashed through the ruin, their guns trained on the Fey as they rained iron and wielded broadswords, decapitating ogres. The men gave the Werelion leader a nod of camaraderie as they raced pass him, knowing their deaths were certain. The Fey were cruel, soulless creatures who needed to be destroyed and just as soldiers died in war, this was their battlefield. They died so their children, their loved ones, might have a chance at freedom. It was a difficult, quite possibly impossible task, but humans, Earthlings, as they were, fought for things that were impossible because they hoped. A wolf howled as his comrades fell, but his despair morphed into rage, as so many Weres did. The Werewolf bared his teeth, the fur over his body prickling as his muscles tensed for the move. He leaped at the man who was Capricorn.

In the distance, a lion tore through the woods - the trees naked with its fallen leaves - his body morphing abruptly into that of a muscular, grown man. Kiser exhaled, a fog of condensation escaping his mouth as if he were a chimney. "Ana," he spoke into his earpiece. "Ana," he repeated. "We'll have to explain things to the families of Team 102. Send a team of cleaners to Lab 86B. Experiments 9, 12, 33, 216, 59, 18, 17 and 99 have been compromised."

Kiser tapped his earpiece, adding a member of IPAF he very much distrusted to the conversation. It would allow for Anastasia to hear and participate and Kiser did not wish to think that she already knew what he suspected and merely chose not to tell him. The Fey he was soon to speak to was... But Leau was good at what she did, something Kiser hated to admit. "Unidentified flying ass, hey," he said without the usual snakiness he normally reserved for Leau. "So I was at the bar, swarmed by girls, as per usual, when I met this Type C. No, not just any Type C and no, it didn't make me cry. But this Type C had waves of power just spilling from its skin and a nasty look scythe. Please, enlighten me, Leau, why did he seem so much stronger than any of the other bastards we've met? What have you not told us, Leau? Who leads the Fey? We always thought they were solitary but after this little display of Fey teamwork, I'm beginning to think otherwise. Who controls the Fey?"


"You can wear this if you want... It's probably a bit warmer than those strips of cloth."

The white-haired mortal lifted her head, her heart tearing itself from her chest as their gazes seemed to entwine and pull viciously at one another's. She looked at the jacket the man held in his hand with the weariness of someone who'd just been thrown into a foreign world. She was not sure of anything and she did not know where to place her trust. Nowhere. Her mind seemed to be a black hole, devouring every organised thought she had. A black veil had been doused over her memories and she could not remember where she was, what she was, how she'd arrived here or where she'd been before, when she'd been born or even who she was.

"There is heat in these buildings, I actually live in this one," the man said, tapping against a wall. She looked at him with half puzzlement, half fear, but the cold got the better of her. Her teeth slapped against one another, a fog escaping her crimson lips and painting over her vision. Everything seemed so shielded and disguised.

"T-thank you," she said quietly, clutching the red silk to her body as she raised her delicate hand slowly. Her fingers curled around the coat and she flinched at the texture of the material against her skin but drew it to her, anyway. The woman wrapped the jacket around herself with haste, basking in the warmth of the extra layer but feeling cold enough to throw herself into a fire.

Snow rained from the skies as she held out her palm, her slim fingers appearing to be frail enough to snap with a breath. A snowflake drifted onto her open hand. The young woman stared at the ice on her pale skin, tears threatening to spill from her now sapphire eyes. Iokul. Eyes of crystalline blue flickered in her mind, struggling to remain in her empty thoughts. A layer of ice coated a body like dust on a corpse or a thin sprinkle of second skin. His beauty was eerie, impossible, as if he should not and could not exist, yet did. Iokul. The man lifted an arm, his muscles rippling beneath his skin as he reached for his Queen. "Raena, my love."

The image shattered. In its place, eyes - as if forged from thunder - gazed into the very depths of what she was with a betrayal and disappointment that seemed to curl around her neck and snap her skull from her body. His body of shadow encompassed her light, suffocating her essence and drowning her in its endless depths. She gasped, inhaling air that did not exist, breathing when there was nothing left to breathe for.

Suddenly, she crashed into her body, as if her spirit had wandered from its shell for what seemed to be years but was in reality, seconds. Her hand trembled, her fingers turning a dangerous shade of blue as she stared at the still frozen snowflake in her palm. Her body was as cold as ice and her mind, just as frozen. Without the Faerie Realms and her connection to her Fey - her souls - she was nothing but a non-existence. When the veil between the worlds had been lifted and the Faeries torn from their world, a Fey of her own had cast magic over his Queen to protect her from death, and her immortality had been the price.

Her eyes gazed through the Vampire before her, seeing him and nothing else, yet seeing nothing at all. Her emptiness made her even colder than the Undead as she pressed the snowflake into his palm. The turmoil of emotions within her was suffocating, depriving her of air. She needed him to be her breath. Her frail hand pressed into the Vampire's, the snowflake frozen between two without warmth. "Who am I?"

"Destroy everything!" Came the wail of the Secondborn, which sent a chill down the spines of the Fae nearest him, but only cause the King's eyes to narrow. "Something is not right," he whispered to himself, and began to lift the rampaging snowstorm. The building ahead of them was in ruins, but the cause of such an explosion was from one of his own being carried by Capricorn. Anger welled up inside of him, even changed his hair to a bright green, signifying how much control he had to exert over the mountainous rage within him. An outlet was needed, and, as a few moments had passed, it was answered by the arrival of only a dozen humans wearing IPAF uniforms.

A right hand went inside the snow spider silk, and pulled out a black card with the image of a smaller version of the ice titans from the Winter Courts. The creature would be enough, and, with a slash across his left palm, slammed it into the card. "Awaken, Yokutrun. Your master has need of your skills once more." The image on the card leaped out, and began to grow until its head was above the roof of the building they still occupied. "Destroy these humans. Change the landscape into a 'winter wonderland'," a sneer was used to emphasize his thoughts on the matter, and watched as the small titan roared its battle cry, then charged into the mass of humans. He cared little of how the creature would do its work, only that it did so in an effective manner that befitted the lords of their race.

The Black Card, an interesting little story, when one would considered such things. There were twelves of these such things, and can only be used by the Winter and Autumn Courts. He, himself, had eight of them, while Capricorn had three, but the last one had gone missing. The twelfth Black Card was actually a red card, but was given to Praxis Lethe. It was a fire sword, and was considered to rival both the King and Queen's magicks, but that was only a rumour, and one that was completely false. It only rivaled the Queen's, not his own, but it was one that only a Fae of the Spring Courts could use, and no other. He did not enjoy the thought that some errant human could have found it, and tried to use the blasted thing. All it needed was a drop of blood from a Fae, and it would flare into life. However, if they were not of Spring, then whoever would touch it, would, in fact, be burned alive.

His thoughts were soon interrupted by a creature that ran past the other humans, escaping into a small thicket of trees and bushes. With a single twitch of his left hand, he sent the snow raven after it, listening as it shrieked its otherworldly shriek when it caught sight of the human, and launching itself at it. Turning, he motioned the Autumn Fae to follow him, opening a portal back to their 'home away from home', and into the awaiting team of the research department. "Capricorn is bringing only one of our own back," his voice silenced their own, "I will expect a full report on the happenings after it has been tended to, understand?" All nodded, and he continued with, "I need another human brought to my chambers. My hunger is growing, and I will be needing it to satisfy me." With that, he turned to another sheet of ice, and stepped through.

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The small female within the arms of Capricorn was a lot lighter than she appeared to be. Her entire form radiated with pain and sorrow. They had done things to her, that much was certain, and they will pay for their crimes in full. Thoughts of tearing them open whilst still breathing was almost enough to not hear a wolf's snarl, and a rush of air. Without turning, he stilled his form, and allowed the shadows within to boil quickly, then burst out in the shape of another howling wolf. It leaped up at the other, wrestling it to the ground. The shadowed wolf tore at the other, blocking every move it made, and swiping at it with its own tactics, but harder. The creature was a doppelganger, an incorporeal being that can, and will, destroy the one it mirrors, taking over its life completely. Best of all, it was winning. The thing had torn off one of the limbs, and was devouring it, absorbing it, making the limb its own. The shocked features, along with the stare, was its downfall. The shadowed wolf opened its jaws liked a snake would against a mouse, and swallowed the other whole.

The change was quick, but precise, and took only a few heart beats to finalize. The creature shook itself, spattering the white snow with bits and pieces of the shadows that clung to it. It grinned up at his maker, and said, "Master," in a hissing voice. More would have followed, if it was not for the fact that the King decided to unleash a minor ice titan onto the field. Its roar was enough to freeze one's blood, its breath was strong enough to freeze fire, and its strength was enough to keep the iron projectiles away from its core. The creature was a terror on the field, and only answered to the king. Of course, Iokul had once tried to allow all winter Fae use of the beasts, but after they had complained of their confusion, this had stopped.

Shaking his head to dislodge such thoughts, he gingerly gripped the back of his minion, and tossed it at a newly formed ice sheet, that doubled as a portal to their new home. Once inside, he was met with a swarm of saplings, who took the female out of his hands, leaving him to smash the portal into pieces. "Go find yourself some food," he told the minion, "Three doors to your right, down four flights of stairs, then look for the room marked with a black and blue X over the door. There, you will meet the others that are like yourself." He cared little to see if the beast followed his order, and, instead, walked towards the portal that went to the King's room.

Inside, he saw his 'father' feasting on the soul of a young woman. It used to disgust him whenever this had occurred, but he was now used to it. "My King, Iokul Frosti," he began with a low bow.

"Oh do get up," came a low growl, "You know I hate it when your prostrate yourself like that." A sound of glass hitting a brick wall made Capricorn look up, only to see that the body of the human female had shattered like glass against the far wall. It would soon begin to melt, though, but unlike most frozen flesh, the soulless flesh of the humans never leave a smell once the magick of the ice wore off, causing them to melt. "Now then. Talk, and don't spare me any details. You know how frustrating it can be when your underlings leave the important stuff out of everything."

As the favourite of the Dark King began to explain what he had seen, he began to see a look of disgust that marred the once perfect features of his skin. There was an ugliness there, one that will most likely spread, if they were not careful.

The skies were cruel. The young woman wondered for long moments as she watched the snowflakes tumble from the skies, unsure of their destination. The clouds had unclasped their seat belts, allowing their children to spill from their wombs and fill with an icy emptiness along the way. They would fall, fall and fall, not knowing of their fates until the very end when they shattered upon pavements or into the heated palms of mortals. She wondered as to why a parent would lead their children to their deaths and an unexplainable guilt slithered up her spine, into and beneath her skin.

"I don't know who you are.. All I know is you are going to die of cold if we don't warm you up, that body you have isn't made for extreme cold. Come with me inside, we can worry about figuring out who you are in there," said the man before her. The grey ice dug into her flesh, pushing past the thin material of her soaked dress of white. She pressed her back against the rough bricks behind her, observing the man's gold eyes with a curious contemplation. She felt no doubt, being as trustworthy as a newborn child who'd not yet learned to walk or hate.

"If you do not know who I am, why do you care for me?" She tilted her head to the side, standing gingerly and wobbling on her knees made of bones that felt more like shortbread. The cold surface behind held her upright as she leaned against it, her pale existence a mark of light in the darkness of the alley. Apricot lights painted strawberry blonde streaks in her long hair, crimson soaking into her soft lips and amber bleeding into their gold eyes. The sunset cast a mesmerising glow over the snow capped mounds of buildings, the beauty only interrupted by the heavy black coats of people bustling about. They were too busy with places to go and people to meet in preparation for tomorrow to live today.

Soft fingertips touched Azriel's cheek, dancing lightly along his immortal face and tracing the hard line of his jaw. The strange girl's eyes faded from one shade of gold to another, puzzlement drawing her brows lightly together as she struggled to recreate the beauty of his orbs. "You have strange eyes," she whispered, her accent familiar as if she were imitating his. Her voice was near dazzling, as if it'd be able to choke mortals and render them motionless with it's sound of thick honey and eerie winds of night.

The woman turned, each elegant movement as if choreographed. She drifted through the snow like a ghost, walking towards the building the Vampire had gestured towards. Pausing before the strange slab of wall built within a wall, the girl stared at what was the door with utter confusion. Why would one build a wall within a wall? She pressed her palm against the door, pushing at it but receiving no response in return. "What is this odd mechanism? How does one remove the wall?" she asked absentmindedly, poking and prodding the edges of the wall to no avail. She looked at the sign on the door that read 'Pull.' "Pull?" she echoed. She looked at the curved metal on the door, wondering if it was safe or if it was some trigger for a curse. Taking a breath of bravery, she nodded towards the Vampire as one soldier would another. Her long fingers curled around the handle of the door. She pulled.

There was a gust of warmth and a surprised gasp as the wall came undone. "What a peculiar gate!" she exclaimed. A tentative step was taken, then another and another. The warmth emitting from the inbuilt heaters was heavenly, and she quickly raced deeper into the building, clutching both the red cape and jacket to her body. A man on his journey downstairs watched the frail woman with hunger and malice. The clockworks of his mind were spinning rapidly as he fantasised about the things he could do to her and how he would achieve his goals.

When they'd entered the Vampire's humble abode, she gazed around like a small child who'd just discovered the existence of places outside of home. "You live in a box," she said, taking an unbalanced step forward. The walls were very flat and the ceilings were as well, with no sign of murals. Everything was very... Square. She spun on the balls of her feet, spinning around and around like a toddler learning to dance ballet. Yet, there was an almost inhuman grace to her clumsiness. She paused, looking at Azriel with a trust children reserved only for their mothers. "I am weary," she stated. She walked through the doors and into Azriel's bedroom, nodding at the bed within it in approval as if she'd just concluded it was the only normal thing in the entire place. She climbed onto the bed and crawled beneath the covers, tucking the thick blankets beneath her chin. After wiggling about for the most comfortable position, she shut her eyes and fell asleep.

Light sang. Her voice carried none of the power it once did, having been dimmed to a flicker of candlelight. Rather than being powerfully haunting and deep, it was merely... Cute. That was, if one thought ghosts could sound cute. It was as if an ocean had transformed into a shallow - but lovely - stream after years of drought. Her long dress drifted along the grass made of cotton, that had been made from gold, emerald and sapphire. The rocks were translucent as if each were rare mountains of moonstone. Trees bowed before the High Queen, their branches lowered in respect. Despite the kaleidoscope of light dancing along the ivory walls of the enchanting Faerie Realms, a darkness seemed to loom overhead. The atmosphere was subdued, the world void of creatures and sound except for that of the singing Queen.

The stillness was the equivalent of a post-apocalyptal world within the Faerie Realms. No human-sized butterflies batted their crystal faceted wings against gossiping flowers, no obsidian streams cascaded into the skies and no stars gleamed in daylight. Order wandered, her presently amber eyes unseeing as she wandered amongst the lifeless. Her bare feet made no sound, their movements as seemingly stationary as the moonstone rocks they passed.

Freckles of snow tumbled from the skies.



"Which part of 'adapt to human technology' and 'keep your bloody tracker on' do you not understand, Leau?" Kiser growled, cracking his knuckles and his neck. "Did you hear a thing I said? Do you know what I think when IPAF agents don't respond to their calls, Unidentified Flying Ass?" he hissed. "I think they're dead. Dead, Leau. And you know what I think when I think you're dead? I think 'Well, damn. That's an extra fifty bucks to clean up her dead body parts.'" The Werelion slapped Leau across the back, a gesture that was meant to show all was forgiven but he still distrusted her, but instead - most likely - aggravated the Fey's wounds.

Kiser turned away from the Fey, brisk walking away from the IPAF agents behind him to tuck himself in a secluded corner. He pulled his personal phone from his jean's back pocket - as for his upper body, he was shirtless, that being nothing unusual - and dialled a familiar number. "Harold, my old man," Kiser said. Harold's wife had been Kiser's aunt, of sorts. She'd been a good friend of his mother's and a family friend. Family friends to Weres were as good as family and they protected those people with their very lives. That was both a strength and weakness when it came to Weres, they were incredibly loyal, especially to family. When Harold's wife and Kiser's aunt had died of a brain tumour, the Burntwood clan - yeah, don't laugh - had mourned for months. Harold was a bit of a kink in the head. It was as if he'd been a stuffed pillowcase and when his wife and son had passed away, the seams that held his stuffing together had come undone. Still, Harold was a good man and more importantly, did not like the Fey.

"I need a favour," he said without pause. "I need you to find out all you can about the Fey. Yeah, yeah, I know I'm in the IPAF but they're hiding things from us," he whispered before correcting himself. "From us. They keep the Fey they capture, Harold, and they put them in these suspicious laboratories. I mean, I've always known about them and they tell us it's for 'the study of how to defeat the Fey' but that sounds like a load of bull. Iron and/or decapitate. How simple is that? But, no, see, there was this creepy scythe-wielding Faerie and he smelled like power, Harold. He reeked of power. Not the normal immortal Vampire stink but I mean, he smelled weird. Different from the other Fey I've fought." Kiser was speaking fast and more than he normally did but the adrenaline pumping through his veins urged him to continue.

"That's where you come in. You're not with the IPAF, you have nothing better to do and you hate the Fey. We're next to the Grill House. That's 1991 Bronxdale Avenue. Tell me what you know. Call me, in a completely non-homosexual way. I'm just not into that, grandpa," Kiser joked before ending the call without waiting for Harold's reply. The Werelion walked towards the car, the icy winds throwing his hair about his face. The blizzard seemed to be getting worse and...

"Why, Rorgen. Why would you drive such a nice car in the middle of a blizzard." Kiser frowned at the limp figure in the backseat and at the colourful blood that spilled from the boy. Its perfection was irritating, as always. "That's going to be a sucker to clean." The Werelion slipped into the passenger seat beside his fellow Were, taking Rorgen's hand in his in the way Weres often greeted one another: by crushing each other's fingers. Kiser clenched his close friend's hand, a competition to see who could crack who's hand first. Kiser grinned, his teeth so white, it was nearly blinding. "At least it's not my car."

The king listened to Capricorn with such intent, many would have mistaken him for another ice sculpture in the park. He was, in a word, furious. the ice in the apartment was starting to melt, as his own hair changed from white, to blue, then green, brown, and settled on a black flame. It waved and quivered in the air, as nimbus of flames danced about his brow, wrists and ankles. "They dare?" His voice quivered with barely controlled rage, "They dare to tear us apart?" His image grew, and the lock upon his breast quivered violently as it tried to contain the entity within. He filled the entire room with his anger, his wrath, his want of total destruction for the entire human race. As quick as the anger appeared, however, it vanished, causing him to slump against his now soggy throne.

"My King," said Capricorn. He had taken a step forward, but was waved back.

"No," A sigh escaped the lips of Iokul, "We shall let our Children here of this. We shall let them hear out our child in full." A whirlwind of snow and frost enveloped him, then, propelling him to the window. There, he threw open the ice and glass, and howled a terrible wail into the air. Within moments, the clouds evaporated, summoning the zephyrs of the world. "In three days time," he began slowly, "There will be a Gathering that has not been seen in over a millennia." he sensed their excitement, as well as their anxiety, "Summon them. Call to them. Howl, screech, cry to them. Make them come to me." He growled the last portion, then continued with, "As it was in the beginning, so it shall be in the end. Use the beacons, and summon the Fae of Earth. Bring them to me."

White light began to fill the room, spilling out in waves towards the crowded streets below. It began to abolish the snow around the building slowly. The light soon changed to a black that was darker than pitch, and screeched towards the heavens above. It dispelled the clouds it touched, allowing the sun to shine through. The hated sun of Earth was enough to make Iokul's skin crawl, quite literally, too. It harmed him like no touch of iron could, but that was of little concern to him now. The Black Beacon, invisible to the humans of the world, but brighter than the accursed sun could ever be. It would shine for three days, and four nights, that was when the Gathering would begin, at midnight on the Earth's Winter Solstice.

"Begin preparations to receive guests," he called out to all that would hear him, "Capricorn," he turned towards his favorite, "you are in charge of the warriors that will guard our guests." A black card flew out of a secreted pocket, then, heading for the Autumn Fae.

---------------

Capricorn caught the Black Card, and turned it over. A golden L stood emblazoned in the center, with silver and green vines wrapped around and within it. The Fae's eye sockets widened as he stared at it, blackened jaw going slack, and skeleton hand quivering. Legion. A demonic force with a hive-like mind, was only to be used as a last resort. "You want me to use this?" His whisper was barely audible.

"Of course I do," his King said slowly, dawning on a new set of clothing to accommodate the new change in temperature, and finished by putting on a pair of purple shades. "How do I look?" His grin was infectious once more, as the glamour settled smoothly about his shoulders. With a small sigh, he, as well, summoned his glamour, and gave a wry grin directed towards his king. "What do you think, my King?"

"I think you need to get some clothes on, before you head on out later today."

Looking down, he could see the large human manhood swinging in time to his voice and physical movements. Sighing, he said, "This is why I do not enjoy these creatures. They are too fleshy."

"You still have to head out and find the perfect place for the gathering, Capricorn." Iokul chuckled softly behind an opened hand.

"And where, pray tell, will you be?" A short growl escaped from the others lips, causing the King's eyes to narrow.

"I, my dear child, will be out and about. It is time I see what this devil of a city is all about." With a huff, he vanished, leaving a swirl of frost and green behind him. Sighing heavily, Capricorn turned towards the wardrobe, and decided to dress plainly. A pair of solid black boxers, along with a pair of faded jeans and a tight black shirt, was all he needed, before heading out into the human world.

Heading out into the snow was one thing, but the fading snow storm turned summer-like was almost unnerving. They were used to the cold, him and his younger siblings were. What the King was thinking, no one knew, but what was known now, however, was the fact that the humans were beginning to pour out of their hiding holes, and embraced the sunlight, the warmth. They were smiling, which made him remember to smile as well, even though he was miserable. Of course, there were still some clouds in the area, but not as great as it was a few moments before. "The sun is back," shout the gleeful humans, "Let's pray that it stays that way," cried another. This had perplexed them, when they first appeared. Of a single deity, when its hand was not present in anything they claimed it was. No magick filled the air when their priests spoke, no divine wrath from above, nothing. It was as though they were worshiping their own imaginations, and to their minds, they were.

This reminded him of another thought, causing him to sigh heavily. A few months into their arrival, many humans began to worship their every foot step, hung on their every word, and followed their commands to the letter. It was called 'The Cult of the Fae', and each wore a mask depicting which season they followed. A new sapling for Spring, bright flame for Summer, a black and gray skull for Autumn, and a white sculpted face for Winter. Each wore their own colors, as long as they stood with the mask they wore. However, they were soon wiped out, almost completely, due to the IPAF system. Most were gone, while the rest were in hiding, it was as simple as that.

Shaking himself physically, as well as mentally, Capricorn began to walk north, before stopping, and staring up at the human architect he had come out of. The beacon was gone, but appeared in multiple areas of the city. A slow grin formed upon his lips, and nodded his ascent to the strategy. The beacons would attract the Fae out of hiding, letting them know that a Gathering was soon to commence. This caused him to think for a moment, before snapping his fingers. "Central Park," he exclaimed happily, before rushing off towards it. The park was perfect, as it offered the best strategic points in defensive and offensive tactics. 'It'll be,' his mind said in a slow hiss, as the world about him became a blur, 'Perfect.'