Page 1 of The Night Prince

Not Like Other Humans

“FAIRY FIGHT!FAIRY FIGHT!FAIRY FIGHT!”The chanting swelled with growing enthusiasm.“FAIRY FIGHT!FAIRY FIGHT!FAIRY FIGHT!”

It was actually a fairyduel.And these were hardly rare occurrences at The Sudden Dawn Inn, but they were favorites.Fairies dueled to settle all sorts of disputes from who would lead the fairy folk to crimes of high treason. Or, as in this case, who failed to pay last night’s bar tab. Rain Hollysplash was evidently sick of Snow Dimplecreek’s drinking and dashing.So it was a duel to the death.The two murderous Tinkerbelles prepared to face off.

Declan Wilde was just hefting a keg of beer up onto his right shoulder in the back room when the chanting began.He glanced through the open door as the two delicate-winged fairies–no taller than a foot-long ruler–took their places at each end of the onyx bar, wands at the ready.Rain’s wand glowed a bloody red while Snow’s was a pure white.Magic sparks poured down from their delicate bare feet onto the bar’s surface as they took aim at one another.

“Rain!Snow!Cut it out!”Declan warned.

His voice was low and dangerous.The fairies ignored him and his tone. Evidently, they were fueled by alcohol and unbridled rage.

“Ach, Declan, don’t spoil our fun!”Varhad Heavymace called out.

Varhad put his well-worn boots up onto one of the scarred wooden tables that dotted the inn’s barroom.The dwarf then took a great draught of his beer, smacking his lips together with satisfaction afterwards. He looked ready to enjoy a good duel.

“Let me guess, Varhad, you’re the one behind this?”Declan asked with a lifted eyebrow at the dwarf.“Inciting violence in the Dawn again?Lily already warned you about doing thatoncethis week.”

Lily was Lily Snellgarden, a goodhearted halfling with a mighty laugh, who worked with Declan on the heavier shifts at the Dawn.This week every shift was crowded as regulars and visitors alike poured into the inn to drink, talk and make merry as all awaited the arrival of Sun King Aquilan Fairlynn.The Sun King was scheduled to turn up that very day to make the Eryas Palace, the seat of the Aravae–or as they were colloquially known, the Sun Elves–Empire. It would also mark the end of the five-year war with the dread Leviathan.

It was still hard for Declan to believe that five years ago this town–Lightwell or Tyrael as the Sun Elves now called it–had been a simple suburb outside of Chicago, Illinois.Back then, nobody believed that elves, halflings, goblins, orcs, or the myriad other high fantasy beings that populated the world now werereal, let alone that monsters made of darkness and fire like the Leviathan were.But then the rifts had opened between the human world and the Under Dark.The first ones had appeared not two blocks away from where this inn now stood.And humanity had found a foe that it could not defeat.For only magic could slay monsters like the Leviathan and humans possessed none.

Humanity would have been wiped out if not for the Aravae revealing their existence and saving them.The Sun Elves had driven the Leviathan back into their nests deep in the Under Dark.While rifts might still open now and again and Leviathan would slither out to slay the unwary, the world was mostly peaceful.Especially if one made their home in the Aravae cities with their protective magical domes.Only the Separatists who chose to dwell in the ruins of the human world fell prey these days.But most of what little remained of humanity now lived alongside beings that had only been hinted at in fantasy stories, but who were quite real.

As the ruined human world was slowly reclaimed by Aravae magic, it was harder for Declan to remember how things had been.Gorgeous fields of flowers, lush waves of grain, vast impenetrable forests, or impossibly beautiful cities sprang up in the places where dreary malls, tract homes or even hazardous waste dumps used to be.An elven palace now stood where his old cinder block high school was once located.If only everyone who had lived when it had been Lightwell High School could have experienced the wonder of the Eryas Palace.

But no.

Though the Aravae had come as quickly as they could to defend humanity, it had not been fast enough to save many of them.Especially in Lightwell.Especially on Declan’s old street or in Declan’s old home, which was long gone.

But Declan tried not to think of how things used to be and focused on the here and now.Even in his dreams, he didn’t prowl the hallways of his old ranch home.He didn’t imagine he heard the voice of his adopted mother calling him for breakfast: sweet crepes with crispy bacon, his favorites.Or his adopted father urging him to go stargaze on the nearby hills, staying up until dawn nearly touched the horizon.

No.

Instead he dreamed of dark towers deep under the earth.His mind offered him visions of a palace of black stone that rose impossibly high to brush vaulted cavern ceilings covered with glowing lichen that made the stone look like stars in a vast, night sky. So neither his dreams nor his reality held any reminders of how the world used to be when magic and monsters were thought not to be real.

Declan snapped back to that present as Varhad grinned at him, which was surprisingly very visible under his thick, bronze beard and asked, “Me?Cause trouble when you’re working, Declan?Never!”

That was generally true.Because, unlike most humans, Declan had a reputation for being able to keep the peace in the Dawn.It was why Helgrom Greatfall, the Dawn’s dwarven owner, trusted him to run the place alone.But Varhad’s humor tonight was fired up by a lot of beer and the desire to show off to the newcomers in Tyrael.He was going to push the limit on just how much he could get away with before Declan shut him down.

“So you didn’t mention to Rain how she had paid last night’s bar tab in full while Snow had far more drinks, Varhad?”Declan’s green eyes narrowed.

“Ah, well,maybe. But that’s just stating facts, that is!Hardly inciting violence!Though it might bloody well end in some good wand blasts!”Varhad slurped up more beer and watched the fairies eagerly.

Declan would remember that look when it came time to settle the dwarf’s own tab. There would be a bitextraadded on to remind Varhad that while fights were all well and good, they happenedoutsideof the Dawn where no crockery could get smashed or blood could stain the linen.

A pot-bellied gremlin, Strofin Shadowfinger, sat opposite Varhad and banged his cup on the table as he took up the earlier chant, “FAIRY FIGHT!FAIRY FIGHT!FAIRY FIGHT!”

He was joined by most of the Dawn’s customers, even some of the elegant Aravae who stretched out their long legs by the fire.Nearly everyone eagerly shouted for fairy innards to be splashed everywhere.Rain fluttered up another inch from the bar as she prepared to shoot her first bolt directly at Snow’s head. Snow glowed like a phosphorous rocket about to launch.

“I think it’s going to be a full out war!”Strofin chuckled and rubbed his clawed, red hands together merrily.

“Too bad you weren’t here a fortnight ago when Rain transformed Snow into a puddle of sentient goo and lit her on fire.Nowthatwas entertainment!”Varhad chortled and wiped beer foam from his beard.

“And don’t you remember, Varhad, that all the wine went sour and the beer went flat in this place?Fairy magic kills alcohol,” Finley West, Declan’s best friend, called from his gaming table in the corner.

Declan found himself grinning.His best friend might be deep in planning the final act of his year-long, homebrew Dungeons & Dragons campaign, but Finley had Declan’s back.It had always been that way between them from the moment they met: fifth grade, a group of bullies, Finley’s glasses snapped in two, and Declan using his fists when Finley’s logical and measured words had failed to work.

Declan gave a brief nod to indicate his thanks.His best friend nodded back but did not fully return his attention to the piles of journals around him as he clearly saw the situation was not calming down.The journals contained the rules of the game Finley had created and dungeon-mastered–or DMed–for a surprisingly growing number of people almost every night of the week at the Dawn.And the gamers weren’t humans who desperately needed their pretend power fantasies now more than ever, but the high fantasy beings who seemed to delight most of all in Finley’s storytelling and the accuracy of the stats for each of their races.

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