Tuesday, June 1, 2010

The Twisting Path

See the path, there, that winds between the patches of marsh in the shifting shadows? That is the path that will take you back, and past this Court, though you will never be able to unlearn what you have seen here. The dangers of the Court are not removed from you when you leave this forest wanderer, they are just more veiled than they are here. The bobbing lights in the corner of your eye is still leading you to sink, the voices that whisper sweetly of logic and reason and atrocity are still there in the noise of the world. Desire will sing in your blood, laughter will draw you to the reconstructed new, the lines between what is and what could be will blur. That is the way of this Court and its affects on your world, that is how it has become, how it will continue, until members of the Court can work among mortals without notice. They are close, they are sitting on shoulders and in pockets and playing on the minds of the many.
Perhaps it will come to a time when the reality you believe, the one that tugs at your heart and brings emotions to the surface, that creates bonds stronger than acquaintance despite never having met. Perhaps those fae who live on illusion will find their way into your world so thoroughly that you will not care when they are between you and another person. Perhaps it will come to a point where it is the illusion you desire. It has happened before, in small ways, in subtle ways, and in the rejection of a country for the idealistic presentation of another. And that is where this Court will thrive, in the desires left unfulfilled by reality and the world of mere mortals. It is this world, the world that is concrete and logical and bound by rules, that the fae thrive in, because they are formed in the gaps of rules and logic where what could be lingers.
Walk carefully wanderer, and be aware of your desires, your dreams, and that there are those in the shadows who feel those dreams as a calling in their bones. They will offer you escape, more chances, what you want most and what you think you need. And for a price, you can have it. For a price. Perhaps then this is what the Court is about, the price of things. And when you have to pay them.
Travel safe, walk only on the solid earth, and carry your lantern high and clear, wanderer. Remember, no matter how enticing and illusion, how real it seems and feels, its price is taken from the tangible world. Remember, wanderer, that in all shadows this Court waits. And sometimes, it is the light that shines as well.

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

Harvest

There are fae here who would like to ask you questions, but I’ve dealt with them. You don’t want your time here to be turned into one of their pieces, believe me. There are, as you would expect, fae who like to shine a light on the chaotic nature of the world, who like to take moments and shape them to something different, who take the smallest dissenting voice and make it sound like that is the true feelings of the populace, and they are as dangerous as any marsh light you would see.
Not all of them are like that, I will concede, but here, in the fae, it is better to be safe than to become the figurehead for something that could end up with you being shown as the bringer of destruction and discovery to a peaceful Court.
You laugh? You think that because there is a similar system in your world that the safety assured you in the small, low budget documentaries shown to the select few who seek them out will wrap around you here? Freedom of speech is not the shield here that it is your world.
Perhaps in your world there are not the inherent power imbalances there are in the fae. Perhaps in your world the systems, the checks and balances, for the presentation of the world in a factual way are different, with the power theoretically belonging to everyone but the ability to capture and distribute that reality controlled by the few. I have heard that there are secrets that have been uncovered, consciousness raising, reality shaking stories told to those who need to hear it, but perhaps there is not, and the myth is perpetuated to keep the dream of freedom alive. There are always debates about the reality of a situation, and though the idea of multiple realities is given lip-service among the new generations, there is still the pursuit of ‘truth’ and ‘freedom’ and ‘honour’ with such conviction and fervour that it is a wonder mortals have not made it a concrete thing to be pinned down and examined.
Still, there are those of your people who do shine a light on things that would be left unseen if those who it threatened were the ones the only ones who could legitimise the content. It is a hard battle these people fight, and it is a battle worth fighting. Of course, to gain the attention of the populace, some gatekeepers must be passed, some powerful allies must be found, or they must find a way to bypass them all together.
Here, it is simple. There are some things made that will not be seen because the bias is so clear, the twisted truth as difficult to believe as a promise from an illusion, and these things die their natural death. Sometimes though, the reasons behind the creation of such things is not seen, for years, for generations, in some cases perhaps never. Reality has value, truth has value, but it still must be sifted, the oats from the chaff, for what will be planted in the field for next season.

Not so different

You have noticed the silver balls, haven’t you? The ones that the fae have been holding, or checking, or waving around as extensions of a gesture, and you feel the are familiar. You should, because they are the very thing that you would have used to call for directions to head away from this woods in the first place, had the magic not fouled up technology the way it does. That is one thing about magic, it and technology don’t mix well, and so the fae come up with new ways to use the ideas of technology. There is, as there always is when changes comes whispering in the winds, confusion and debate and arguments about the value of those silver balls, and some of the more traditional rue the invention of the seemingly innocuous things. This is a debate you are probably familiar with. If the fae weren’t as long-lived, the debate here would probably rage as hotly, and as spasmodically, as it does in your world, but the truth is that shifts in tradition are gradual here, though the ability of the silver balls outstrip anything your mortal inventors can come up with. That is the benefit, and the down side, of magic, changes are amplified and extended and turn into their own beasts soon enough.
But it is not the magic that is the cause of the debate here, but the need for the silver balls. They are seen as quaint but unnecessary by most, though there are enough hanging from belts to make a lie of that statement, and there are enough moments that are captured in clarity and fog that the use of them has shifted. The idea was based on the scrying balls, large marble and obsidian creations forged with a magic so strong none can break it, but the underlying magic was simple, and when someone figured that out. Well, you can see the result yourself. Unlike the scrying balls, these little silver ones are more shifting to be more for the collection of images and information, providing an easy to access store that means a fae never really feels alone. They do not wish to, not in these dark times. You think I wander the forests to keep an eye out for mortals alone? No, I spend much of my time seeking the fae who have strayed too far, took a wrong turn, who encountered something they were not prepared for, and I too use the silver balls, called Argons for ease, to find people. I care not if they cause concerns for memory, for self-reliance, for attention span, they are not only the source of much entertainment and the holder of memories and moments in time. They are a safety net in a time when the world is not as safe as it once seemed. Who am I to say that they are good, or bad, or otherwise? I have my own argon, and I use it as much as I do, for what I will. Though I do sometimes wonder at the cost of safety.

Satyrs don't have all the laughs

There is another crowd in the market, though they are off to one side, sitting on a gentle rise with drinks in their hands and a selection of small delicacies on tray. See, they are laughing as much as the crowd with the reinvented magics, but they laugh at different things. Come, let me show you something more of the Fae Court.
Here, there is no real democracy, but the denizens are not bothered by this. Not everyone in equal among the Fae and they would consider it ludicrous to have any but the strongest rule. The Court is ruled by the Queen, and at all times there is a Former Queen, a Present Queen, and a Future Queen. So it is for the Summer and Winter Courts, and so it is here. Fae are best suited to such a style, and it is the Queen’s Champion who aids in the administration of the Court, and does whatever the Queen wills best for the Court. But she has advisors, and it is the position as advisor that some covet as much as mortals covert the position of leader, in business or government, in the world outside this Court. See the man there, his dark hair tied back, the silver ball in his hand, standing in the centre of the other with his drink tilting at a precarious angle? He does not look like that all the time. In fact, that silver ball is allowing him to appear so. What he is doing, with some help, is making a satire of one of the more prominent men in the Court. The silver ball in his hand gives him the ability to look similar to the man he in question, and to use sections of words spoken to alter their meaning. This is a simple thing for the fae, they use what someone has said and done and use it to make something new, and mostly mocking. If I remember, this is not something you are unfamiliar with.
While these are not for positions of true leadership, they are reminiscent of the way mortals take and shape recorded moments of leaders’, or those who wish to lead, lives and make a point with them. They show that one man said the same thing so many ways it turned around and became its opposite, they replay the moment another said that he exaggerates and unless it’s in writing he should not be trusted. And they laugh at the attempts other prominient figures have made to use the same silver ball to reach those who would support them, because the attempts have been clumsy and stilted. Advisors and leaders are not aware of the subtle nuances of this crowd, and they make mistakes, and those mistakes are shown again and again and again, in ways that they never would have thought of. It is this group who show you the underlying differences between those who seek power, and those who would be subject to it. The former take themselves far too seriously.

Not all that glitters is new

The Fae Court is like any other, they have their darkness, and their light, and as with all creatures able to communicate and possessing a wish for shiny things, they have a marketplace. It is off to one side of the main buildings, half under the protective arches woven by the fae with a skill for construction, half beneath the open sky and subject to most of its whims. There are enough protection spells that neither the goods nor the sellers are truly effected by rain or anything stronger or colder. Be careful not to touch anything as we walk the rows, wanderer, these things are as deadly as they are beautiful and in some cases the most innocious are the ones most likely to cause you harm. But that is not what I have brought you here to see.
In the clearing, do you see the crowd, laughing and clapping and chatting quietly in moments of applause? Yes, the one with the small silver balls at their belts. Walk quietly with me and I shall tell you a secret, that is no secret to the fae but that mortals seldom hear. Each act of magic, of creation of nothing out of something, is more than difficult, and it is not with ease that such things are made. The original spell, the new way to make flames turn and curve to ones will, anything that has not been before, is a labour of love and talent, which most fae do not possess and in most cases the dedication to the creation of the new is not something that interests them. However, what the fae would never tell a mortal, they do not need to create something new, they can take elements of what has been and mix them in such a way that the outcome appears new and original and unique. Without the knowledge that these magics have come originally from someone else, who is to question the creations these fae show? And since there is a certain amount of art in the combining of magics, who is to truly be offended by this form of flattery? Not that there aren’t some who are, but these are the few, and not the many, and the voices that are powerful in the creation of new magic are not so clearly heard when things are being shifted to form new or different things.
You look a little, disconcerted, is that the word I want? It is no different to using someone else’s artistic creations to make new ones, the profit, if any, is still sent to the original artist, and often there is no profit at all. It is not the way of entertainment to demand new things and reject the familiar. In some cases, it is the combination of the familiar with the unusual that makes them valuable. Sometimes entire premises about the construction of a world are rewritten for the amusement of the viewer. Watch here, see what I mean.

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

The dark side of pleasure

You are still with me wander, that is good. I had thought that perhaps the illusion of another life had drawn you away. Come through these corridors, the ones with marble lined in darkest night that call to, and step lightly, because I am going to show you something that you may not like, or that you make never wish to stray from.

The illusion fae are a sort of cousin to these creatures that I am showing you now, their lightness and their ease something to remember. Down this corridor filled with warm-scented air are one of the more secretive aspects of the Fae Court. They were called demons for a time, these desires made real, and they are still called such by some today. I couldn’t tell you if there is truly a difference, I have never met one of their demon kin, and so will tell you only of these creatures. Like the illusionaries before them, these creatures provide something the real world cannot offer, and in this case it is of the carnal variety. If this offends you, makes you uncomfortable, we will turn back and I will show you something light and airy and delightfully fae. No? Well, I offered. Down this corridor, and others like it, there are the those that will grant you ever wish you do not speak to your lover, every caress you crave and every sensation you can bear. And the most appealing part? There is little risk to your physical health.

These fae are related to the succubi and incubi, demons of pleasure who prey on different types of humans for the same reason. Without the prey, the demons would die, as would these fae. Someone came here once and labelled theses fae things like ‘fetish’ and ‘cybersex’, broke them down into neat little boxes so others could feel safe. As I said to them, I will say to you. These fae are as dangerous as though in the shadows, they can ensnare you and never let you go and their influence can bleed into the real world with potentially alarming results. But as with all fae, they are not evil, they simply are what they are, a creation of the needs and desires of humanity. Some argue that perhaps these creatures are a safe method of dealing with those desires, that these creatures and their constructs are perhaps preferable in some ways to the real events they are mimicking. I say that is up to the individual to decide. That one, in the corner with the body so translucent that you can almost see through her, she is one that creates illusions not of herself, but who acts as an intermediary for two mortals. She smiles like that because she is mute herself, and the words of the mortals shape her, her actions, her appearance, everything. She waits.

The danger of her and her friends is that her intangible nature makes the tangible world feel lacking. The illusion is woven so that exactly what you want appears, and so what a hardship the flawed and unpredictable real world becomes. And with each visit the comparative safety of anonymity, of control, of the removal of social awkwardness, the seeds of need are warmed and begin to grow. And like the seeds of doubt, they grow and cling to everything that can hold their weight, briar roses with sweet scented flowers and thorns that cling and tear. But the wounds are on the inside, where other mortals can’t see them, and can leave weeping scars that cripple.

Be wary here, wanderer, because these corridors and the rooms off them hold pleasure, but there is always a price. Everything has a price. Be careful that the price is something you can afford to part.

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

In the Shadows

In the Fae Court, it is not only those places in the light that harbour life, it is not just the places where things are clearly seen that creatures of great beauty and mystery catch the attention and enrapture the senses. In the shadows, in the overhanging cornices and decorative facades, in the nooks and crannies and the smallest pieces of darkness, there live creatures as darkly beautiful as any of the Winter Court themselves. It is in these corners that the true nature of the fae begins to show itself, and it is here that the warnings that mortals fail to listen to become real. In these shadows are the creatures of illusion, of possibility, of imagination and fairytales, these are the creatures that provide the way deeper into the Court, through twisting halls and marble corridors so cold they burn like heartbreak on the skin. These are the creatures that whisper to the discontent, the bored, the uninterested. It is these creatures that promise grandeur, adventure, escape, power to the powerless, fame to the common man. These creatures of darkness and shimmering light are the fae of illusions, of dreams, and they are more dangerous than the marsh fae because they are so much more enthralling.

To say that the creatures made of such escapist desires are evil, or predatory, as a blanket statement would be wrong and heinously inaccurate. In fact, some of their works live every moment in the hearts and minds of those exposed to their influence and provide courage, as source of strength, a way to understand a chaotic world outside the Court that has less mercy than the Winter Queen herself. They are those that give us stories, in all forms, who give us a much craved for break from the daily grind and they are what allow us to go back again with a sense of lightness and relief. These are not the fae to be wary of, not from the outset. Every dealing with these creatures is known by all involved to be temporary, and it is because of this that mortals join into agreements easily. Reading a book is easy; it has a beginning, a middle and an end, and can be picked up and put down at the whim of the reader. There is an involvement in the world of the story that does not require or demand that the reader stay there longer than necessary. Computer games that follow as story are similar, they are part of something, they draw the player into the world, but the player goes in knowing that there will be an end. The story will conclude, and based on the decisions made the hero will succeed or fail. Storytelling is the way of these types of fae, and they are the least dangerous of their kind.

The evolution of those creatures I mentioned are more consuming and show more in common with their Winter Court brethren. These are the creatures who offer not a timed escape, but an indefinite one. These are the games than never stop, that keep going as long as you wish them to, these are the ones what whisper that this is better than the world you came from mortal, here you are what you want to be, here is where the world will answer to you and be what you want to make it. Here are the chances you have been missing, the dreams you have held it yourself because you know that you will never reach them. Come to us, the voices say as soft as velvet, come to us and we will make it right. And so people go, and they wrap themselves in the embrace of creatures that take them to places they had only dreamed of, opportunities they could never obtain in the world outside the court. Here are the fae that offer the second chance, the Second Life, to live as you will it. And these are the dangerous fae that once they have you enthralled you will go back to time and again despite everything. They are like chocolate, like coffee, like the song you can’t get out of your head but don’t want to. They offer the chance to life again. And in a world where time is divided into sections, are allocated and filed and torn from meaning without most realising it has happened, it is no surprise that these fae are becoming more evident in this Fae Court.

But the warnings must be said, and so I will say them, though I see you tilting your head to catch that faint whisper of someone wishing to hear your dreams and hopes and desires. What they make, these fae of illusion, is real to those in the illusion, for however long they wish it. These illusions can give meaning, can shape a person, can make them breathe more easily and be content. They can give what the world has taken, can offer what the real world cannot. But they cannot be separated from the world as most of the illusionary fae can, and it is this that causes the danger, that makes people shiver and shy away, that makes them violent in action and word. It is the instinctive realisation that one must be wary in dealings with even so minor members of the Fae Court. What they offer is as true as the feeling of any other shared experience in the world, just do not forget the dangers. It is too common to see someone walk willingly into a shadow’s embrace and hold on like a lover.

Be cautious wander, for this is the first steps we take into the more dangerous aspects of this Court and I have no wish to leave you behind. But I am just a small fae, and so if you wish to continue, follow my steps, listen to my voice, and remember that I am guide and warning only, I cannot save you should you stray too far into those welcoming voids.