Fae Chronicles 6

The war was intensifying, with the Empire fighting off the Francois, Legadonians, and now the Dacians. From what little they knew about Dacia’s military capabilities, the Dacians were not a substantial threat, but they would tie up men and material that were sorely needed on other fronts of the war. If the Russy decide to join the dogpile, the Empire would be fighting on literally all fronts. 

But at the same time, Tanya’s business interests were taking off. Upon taking a poll of their current subordinates, the first business they created was not a toy manufacturer, competing directly with Polaris Citadel, but instead a bakery. Using their existing properties as collateral to secure a business loan, Tanya purchased several storefronts in multiple cities, claiming them at court once more, and yet another of the trees were converted into a gigantic kitchen for the creation of cookies, cakes, and other pastries, each one individually decorated by brownies who were otherwise unoccupied. Mortals were hired to handle sales, and regular shipments of ingredients were sourced to be delivered to a supply warehouse in Albion, which was connected to the aforementioned tree. 

As it turned out, Tanya’s understanding of how mortal objects could be transported through Arcadia was incomplete. They knew that it was possible to coat objects in glamor to ensure they survived the transition, but it always seemed too expensive to be worth doing. But the limit wasn’t something innate to the barriers between the two worlds; instead it was, like pretty much everything about fae, a bureaucratic limitation that their nature turned into a physical one. 

In other words, brownies possessed a ‘work permit’ exemption to the Twilight Accords when it came to transporting tools, materials, and finished products of their craftsmanship. As the limitations on the transfer of objects was a measure created to protect the fae from hunters wielding cold iron, all that was needed to create such permits was King Oberon’s authorization. 

It still wasn’t something Tanya could exploit to, say, ship war material to ease the logistics of the Empire, keeping her most valuable human assets safer. Attempting to subvert King Oberon’s authorization to do things that were not an anticipated result would not endear them to anyone, the brownies included. But it did allow their modest factory to supply quite a few bakeries, and it kept their workforce happy to have an artistic project like that to go along with their more ordinary duties. 

Most of the various fairies that Tanya had spoken with had at least one major disconnect with human mentality, some facet of their preferences that was downright alien, but Tanya had never really struggled to accommodate them. Similarly, when fae decided to abandon their otherwise unique existences and instead conform to a… subspecies? The fey word was ‘Shape’, but the mortal interpretation of the word was far too limited to properly convey the level of difference involved. That said, when a fey conformed to a Shaped existence, such as becoming a goblin, dwarf, troll, or brownie, to give a few examples, their personalities become nearly identical to every other fae that wears that shape. There were small differences, individuals still held slightly different preferences, but only when they didn’t interfere with the mold they shaped themselves to fill. 

So every single brownie, without exception, got incredibly bored when not indulging in their craftsmanship hobby. Each one had their own favorite kind of job, but none of them would ever pick idleness over productive work unless they were tired (which took a lot of work to accomplish, to say the least), and even then their priority would strictly be to restore their energies through food and rest so they could keep working. It made union negotiations very odd, to say the least. 

That wasn’t to say that they didn’t have flaws, as workers. Brownies got offended whenever the word ‘automation’ came up, much less requests to implement them, so while they were fine with the industrial ovens, anything with a motor was right out. All efficiency increases had to be couched not in terms of ‘labor saving’ but instead consistency and reducing tedium. So implementing hand-cranked mixers was fine, not much artisanal about mixing, and they never shied away from improving cleanliness standards, they rather liked the idea behind laws creating standards of quality to prevent shoddy work from proliferating, but Tanya’s attempts to get them to implement a more shelf-stable recipe and production method to create a product line that could be sold in bulk were soundly shut down. 

Having an effectively limitless supply of baked goods was a damn fine perk for all the trouble, though. Alas, while there were manifold benefits to ensuring your employees understood their position as stakeholders via giving up power over them, there were a few drawbacks as well. They’ll work around it. 

“So, you wished to meet with me, General Zettour?” Tanya asked, sipping at the offering (coffee with milk, cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger, and pimento) and sampling some of the provided cookies, a product of their own bakeries. “I heard that you were planning on arranging a meeting, but my sources weren’t clear on what kind of bargain you intend to strike.”

Indeed, the delay in hearing of this and the actual meeting appeared to be deliberately cultivating a fairy circle inside a facility on the outskirts of Berun. In every direction, past the carefully arranged trees, a concrete wall enclosed the grove, topped with barbed wire and studded with watchtowers. If they were a less humble fairy, they might have gotten offended at the implied lack of trust behind the precautions. 

Instead, Tanya was vaguely flattered that they thought they merited such caution. “I come to you not on behalf of myself, but instead as a representative of the Imperial military.” General Zettour said, brandishing one of the Kaiser’s seals. 

“I assume, then, that you have been briefed on my previous work with your subordinates?” Tanya asked. The General nodded. “Good, I wouldn’t want you to have gone through all this trouble only to ask for something beyond my capabilities. Or, at least, a request that I have already rejected for lack of ability.”

“Yes, your candor on the limitations of your resources is appreciated.” General Zettour said, “Modern wars are difficult to conduct without friendly relations with foreign trading partners, and an honest businesswoman like yourself is something we are willing to work with.”

“The flattery is appreciated.” Tanya said neutrally, eating another cookie. “I pride myself on being an honest businessfae, and thus, we shall get down to brass tacks, as it were.” Tanya took another sip of the offering. Delicious. Fancy spiced coffee reminded them of buying overpriced coffee at the chain shop between their office and the train. It was a good memory. Even if they usually shied away from the exotic or seasonal drinks. A mistake, surely. “What is the Empire’s wish?”

Zettour took out a computation orb and placed it on the table. Tanya looked it over, intrigued. Wait… was that… “Four orbs in one?” Tanya asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“One orb with four cores.” Zettour corrected. Oh, they’re working on multi-core computing? 

“I was unaware that you’ve developed dual-core computing.” Tanya said, looking over the gold device. They actually followed computer technology trends, broadly, in their first life. The first dual-core chips were released in the year 2000, while quad-cores weren’t released until 2006. “I mean, once you’ve managed that, quad cores aren’t that much harder, but still.”

“...We haven’t.” Zettour admitted. “Components keep failing, mana cascades out of control…”

“Ah, I see.” Tanya said, finally understanding. “You wish to see if faerie magic can make up for the deficiencies in the design.”

“That is our first request, yes.” Zettour said. 

“It cannot.” Tanya said bluntly. “At least, not directly. Fairy magic is ephemeral, flowing.” At least, any effect they could muster fit that description. “Things like unbreakable swords and such are fantasies, and don’t tend to hold up to concerted effort or powerful magic. A blessing of health would fail against a bioweapon, and a blessing of balance would still fall in the presence of an incoming jeep… put a few tons of force against an unbreakable blade, that kind of thing” Tanya tapped the orb in front of them. “Powerful magic would include anything you did with this.”

Zettour hummed, immediately understanding Tanya’s reasoning. “I see. Even with magic, nothing is invincible in the face of enough power.”

“It is so.” Tanya agreed, and ate another cookie. Delicious. “The Fairy King could probably fulfill such a request, but I shudder to think of the price he would extract for such a thing. Other personages with the raw power to possibly help would be the Lord of Salted Earth, the Lady of Unmet Desires, or even the Lord of Forceful Conquest.” None of which are fey one would want to deal with. “None of which are nearly as easy to arrange a meeting with, nor are as understanding about certain things.” Tanya gestured to their surroundings vaguely. “I wouldn’t dare request their presence at a place as… uninviting as this little embassy you’ve set up.”

“What’s wrong with it?” Zettour asked, somehow confused. 

“There are at least two hundred men with firearms surrounding us.” Tanya deadpanned. “Some could call such precautions an insult.” It was a heady feeling, playing up the ‘omniscient fae’, but all of them were within range of the awareness that the beckoning provided, in an imperfect but useful attempt to prevent fae hunters from using beckonings to create ambushes. Well, Tanya could think of ways that would get around it, if the mechanisms were understood. 

“This is a fortified position.” Zettour said, “It is for both of our protection.”

Tanya scoffed. “Now that is something that someone like myself could take offense to.” Tanya said warningly. “I am no simpleton, General. If this is merely for protection, why did you place your meeting over a mile away from anywhere important? If you instead installed this fairy ring in, say, the Imperial Gardens, we would be well defended without requiring the additional effort of setting up a secure facility that could be bombed without consequence.” Tanya meaningfully glanced up. “Lovely skies, isn’t it? Very clear. I’m sure those five military mages are just enjoying the breeze.”

Zettour, visibly nervous, was about to speak, give excuses, but Tanya raised their hand to stop them. “What separates me from my peers in this matter is that I fully understand your rationale.”

Zettour calmed down, taking a cleansing breath after a sip of his own coffee. “What would that rationale be, then?”

“You are afraid.” Tanya said bluntly. “For the most part, the Court of Seasons have largely withdrawn themselves from the mortal world over the last four hundred years.” Tanya gestured to their surroundings. “You have made great strides in the application of military force, both magical and non, and thought of yourselves as the biggest beasts on this hill.” Tanya sipped at the coffee once more. “But just as the wolves come circling, seeking to nip at your heels until you fall, you find out that there exists a greater power. One capable of feats you scarcely understand, to the point where most reference material and lore ends up a list of how to appease superior forces, instead of how to communicate with them as an equal, as the likes of Merlin would.” Tany ate another cookie. After giving him a moment, Tanya sighed “It’s a terrible feeling, to meet someone who is so much greater than you that your best hope is to beg for mercy.” Being X… King Oberon… Which was worse? The layabout that resented having to do his job, and hated being criticized even worse than that? Or the immortal who only barely registers the fact that there are other entities that exist beyond their role in his game? 

As Zettour digested their dissection of the Empire’s motivations, Tanya reached for another cookie. Ah, they were out. Tanya drank the last of the coffee. “In the grand scheme of things, I’m a small fish.” Tanya said, mental equilibrium restored. “I get by through identifying demand and providing solutions to my client’s needs. Now, let’s talk options…” Tanya smiled predatorily. 

Zettour matched it. “Yes, let’s.”

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In the end, Tanya thought they struck a good deal. Tanya would invest a rather sizable amount of glamor into a treasure that they could pair with their “Type 95” computation orb. Due to the fact that the orb was theoretically functional, it just required an otherwise impossible amount of focus and skill on the part of the user, which the treasure will provide. In return, for every minute that the type 95 was operated will incur a debt of equal time, to be paid via the magic of every single mage in the Empire’s military. 

Needless to say, the number of mages in a population that exceeded two hundred million people, when all of the powerful ones were conscripted, was substantial. The up-front payment of one hour of that output created enough glamor to create the treasure using fourth tier motes, four of them, with sixteen more in profit. The difference between facade glamor and this new variety, which they now knew was called tale glamor, was hard to describe. Of course, some basic math determined that there were some substantial inefficiencies in the process, perhaps even King Oberon taking a cut in taxes, but it was still far more than they ever expected to get so soon. 

It did take them two weeks to create and disseminate what they called ‘Protocol 95’, which was essentially them turning off everything that used magic for the amount of time specified by the contract. It was executed at midnight, the witching hour, as the contract did provide 48 hours of flexibility after a debt was incurred. 

Naturally, the Empire’s enemies caught wind of this… but they had, according to Elya, bluffed that this protocol was implied to be so obviously a trap that the Francois didn’t dare risk a midnight attack with mage commandos, or whatever else they had up their sleeves. Which made sense, if you lacked the critical context that turning off the magic in the entire nation was something that could be diverted to useful purposes. 

From the testing that Tanya had permitted while waiving the payment, the type 95 worked perfectly. Plans were made to create five additional copies, six orbs being deemed the most that could be borne by the limitations imposed by the contract. One hour of magic for the manufacturing of the treasures, and another hour for every ten minutes of action by the lot. 

They were making a killing! Heh, pun intended. 

“Tanya, did you hear the news?” Visha asked, excited despite being worn down from eleven hours of surgery. The Rhine front was a brutal theater of war. “Dacia surrendered!” She exclaimed while she changed clothes for bed. 

“Did they?” Tanya asked innocently. “I thought that the Empire hadn't even gotten around to mustering an attack yet.”

“They deployed some kind of wonder-weapon!” Visha whispered conspiratorially. “Everyone’s talking about it!” 

Tanya knew this, of course. The total runtime for the type 95 computation orb was, over the last week, exactly 471 minutes, nine minutes shy of six hours. Supposedly, the next one would be ready in two more weeks, as it must be crafted by the hands of their finest engineer, Dr. von Schugel, over the course of one month. It took a lot of tedious refinements to the materials for them to be up to snuff, apparently. “Well, if we’re lucky, this will permit a peaceful resolution.”  Honestly, Tanya worried that their fairy magic solution may inhibit technological advancement, which would be a shame, but it would also benefit them immensely for this to be the case, so they were torn, as it was never pleasant to have one’s best interests and philosophical ideals opposed to each other. Tanya was personally in favor of acting in one’s best interests over moralizing on lofty ideals, they were practical like that. It was also why their ideals so rarely conflicted, because everyone acting as they are incentivized to was their ideals. But it was not the only thing that mattered, and the continuous advancement forward to a brighter future was one of them. 

…Eh, it was probably fine. “We can only hope.” Visha said, now wearing her pajamas. “Can you sleep here tonight?” She asked, holding her arms open. 

Tanya flushed. Now that Visha was fifteen, she was blossoming into a fine young woman. With their own childish body, who had looked about seven years old since the day they emerged from that pumpkin, it wasn’t anything untoward, even ignoring the fact that Tanya was nominally a girl. 

Actually… “I’m going to be able to shape myself into an adult body soon.” Tanya said as they settled into bed. Visha hugged Tanya tightly, like she would a stuffed animal. While it probably would have been too tight for a mortal, to Tanya it was a pleasant weight, like a warm blanket. 

“Really?” Visha asked, interested. 

“Well, not that soon.” Tanya hedged. “Sometime next year, unless something completely unexpected occurs.” That being ‘peace is declared’. It was pretty late in the year, nearly Christmas in fact, so that was a nice and vague timeline. “Also, doing it as soon as possible isn’t quite financially responsible.” 

“Did you have an idea of what you’re going to look like?” Visha asked. 

“Well…” Tanya said, “...not really.” they admitted. Years ago, when they first learned about how to get an adult body, they had thought about becoming a man again. “I’m finding my previous plan to no longer be appealing. I’d certainly want to keep enough of my old features to be recognizably me.” They have a brand now. They can’t throw that away. Growing up would be an acceptable change. Becoming someone entirely different would not. Besides, what would they do? Change their name? What kind of man is named ‘Tanya’? It didn’t seem like a problem before… But changing themselves so thoroughly would alienate Visha and Elya…  No. Becoming the Lord of Currency was no longer practical. 

“We can talk about it, come up with ideas. It sounds fun.” Visha said, smiling and squeezing Tanya for emphasis. “I don’t have much growing left to do either, so your new size relative to mine will stay the same.”

Tanya yawned and adjusted slightly in Visha’s grip, getting more comfortable. “Yes, let’s do that.”

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With the power of the type 95s, the Empire’s position seemed to stop careening into disaster. After Dacia’s surrender and the second one deployed, there was a daring invasion of Legadonia. The pair of type 95 users, some of the best mages in the Empire, shattered the defenses at Osfjord, clearing the way for a more conventional invasion. 

On the Rhine front, on the other hand… things were very bad. The Francois used saboteurs and agitators to kick off a partisan uprising in the railway hub of Arenne, which meant that supplies were cut off. 

“Should we escape through Arcadia?” Visha asked as she helped to pack up the army hospital onto the trucks. At least, the critical supplies that they couldn’t afford to leave behind. As one of the mage doctors, a limited resource, the reinforcement formula allowed her to carry very heavy loads without strain along with the five others. 

Tanya shook their head. “It would be desertion.” They said, “That isn’t to say that I won’t take you to safety if things start exploding, but it’s best to see if you can make it to a rendezvous point first.”

“How’s Elya?” Visha asked after setting down the last package for this truck, strapping it down. She slapped the side of the truck. “It’s full! Get going!”

“Somewhere in Legadonia, “ Tanya replied, “-something about the Albish.” Specifically, she was involved with counter-intelligence operations dealing with the Albish agents in Legadonia. “I don’t ask her specifics, she doesn’t betray her oaths telling me them.” They did, however, know the contents of any message they act as a backchannel for. Which was interesting stuff. They were, however, sworn to secrecy on those matters. Which they already found an acceptable loophole for if necessary, as otherwise they couldn’t have said even that much. 

The officer in charge, Lt. Colonel Muller, suddenly shouted, using a sound formula from the magic scanner operator’s orb to amplify his voice. “General Becker has called for a full retreat! I want everyone out in two minutes!”

Visha used her orb to run after the truck she just ordered to go, catching up in thirty seconds and jumping on top of the cargo. Tanya stepped out of her shadow to catch up. As Visha hugged Tanya for comfort,Tanya looked over the cargo that was abandoned where they lay as everyone scrambled onto vehicles to get away as soon as possible. The last truck, which was only half-full, loaded in a dozen people before starting to drive off. 

“They shouldn’t be able to catch up to us, too many other units are between us and the Francois.” Lt. Colonel Mueller said, in a vehicle of his own with the magic scanning equipment. “No incoming mages yet, either. But if we do get caught, just surrender. We’re a medical unit, The worst they’ll do is get us to work on their boys. Remember your oaths!” The Lt. Colonel was also supposedly a famous surgeon before he was tapped as an officer to a medical unit, as he was in the military before he went to medical school. 

It was a tense half hour as the trucks carried everyone away over rough terrain at a speedy forty kilometers per hour… until some Francois mages approached, and Lt. Colonel Mueller coordinated a mass surrender, each member of the convoy stopping the trucks and holding up as many white flags as they could get their hands on. Tanya very deliberately ignored them doing that, not even making eye contact with the Francois mages. 

This… was actually good. Prisoners of war generally survived the war, and the option to flee was still present, in the event that they started to mistreat the prisoners. 

“Relax.” Tanya said to Visha as they waited for the rest of the Francois army to catch up and capture them properly. A single wing of five mages watched over them. “I haven’t heard any scurrilous rumors about the Francois’ treatment of prisoners of war.” On either side of the border. “We can make an escape attempt later.”

Visha took some deep breaths and calmed down. “I suppose you’re right.” She said softly. “Mama and Babushka gave me so many horror stories about what happens to young women who get captured…” Tanya frowned. Ah, they didn’t consider that. “Should we really call it an attempt at escape, though?”

“Successful attempts are still attempts.” Tanya said sagely. “Besides, I want to see how many other prisoners I can get to pay me to help them escape.” They have enough magical oomph now that they could actually affect a pretty good one even without a convenient path into their domain. “If I’m lucky, the richer officers will pay generously for me to evacuate everyone.”

At the realization that Tanya had a plan, the last vestiges of Visha’s nervousness vanished. “Right. It’s like you said, "Always be dealing.” A Crisis is both Danger and Opportunity.”

“That wasn’t quite what…” Tanya paused. “Close enough.” They said instead. Visha’s Albish was… not the best. “Still, I probably shouldn’t stick around while they arrest you. If I say I surrender to them, I’ll be bound to that, so…” They spun a small stick out of glamor. “Break this in case of an emergency.” Like if one of the Francois soldiers starts unbuckling their pants. “I’ll come quickly.”

“I will.” Visha said, “Now go, I see a tank on its way.” She gave Tanya one last hug. As they departed, Visha said one last thing: “I love you.”

Tanya fell right on their face when they arrived in their chambers, completely forgetting to change their legs into a standing position. 

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The Franois managed to occupy the Rhine Industrial zone, with the collapse of the Western Army. Visha’s unit was moved to a captured hospital, and demanded to do work on Francois soldiers, just as Dr. Mueller predicted. 

Tanya, of course, did not reveal themselves to the Francois. They stayed concealed within Visha’s shadow, watching from a metaphorical distance. It was entirely because of the Francois soldier presence and not spooking them, and not at all because of what Visha said the last time they spoke. 

Love? It was… not something that they really understood. In their first life, they experienced desire, certainly. Sex sells, and they were not one of the blessed fraction of the population that was free of such impulses. At least… they weren’t back then. 

Their transformation into a fae didn’t entirely erase the old responses, but they weren’t the same. Seeing someone unexpectedly naked was surprising, and embarrassing, and provoked an entirely appropriate fear of transgression, of doing something one shouldn’t. But there wasn’t an impulse to see more, to try and imagine what it could be. 

By now, skinship had eroded those old responses, and while Tanya never stared at their servants while unclothed, it was rude after all, they had shared enough baths that it registered as no less strange than seeing naked men in the bath house, it was just nudity. In hindsight, that was probably another sign that turning themselves back into a man was no longer something they cared much about. 

But… Love. They certainly cared for Visha. As the Lord of Flashing Knives would say, they had gotten attached. Seeing her grow into a competent and intelligent young lady with the nerves and guts of steel necessary for the butchery of battlefield surgery… It was admirable. 

But was that the kind of relationship that Visha meant when she declared her love? Tanya was afraid to ask. It seemed like if she meant something more familial or platonic, that she would have said it sooner. More easily. 

Tanya looked through Visha’s shadow again. She was clearly despondent as she laid down in the cot she had as a prisoner of war. The doctors were all stashed in essentially random spare rooms in the hospital. The female medical staff were relegated to the laundry room, with instructions to process all of the laundry that so happened to be put into the room while they weren’t doing anything else. Visha was the only doctor, but there were six other women sharing the space, all nurses, happily chatting away as Visha laid there. Tanya assumed there was another location, because there were definitely more nurses in the unit than that. 

Seeing Visha look so sad… hurt. But… what kind of hurt? What was Visha to them? The Lord of Flashing Knives’ words echoed back in their head. “Mortals have a lot going for them. They find joy in the smallest things, because suffering is their natural state. Any relief from that is a joy, which is something that, as one of the Peerage, is probably rather strange to you. They make fine pets, and you can easily find yourself invested in their well-being, both physically and emotionally.” The Lord of Flashing Knives took a moment to let his words sink in, stroking his stylishly rough goatee as Tanya considered his advice. “But you must always remember that a mortal lives only about a hundred years plus change, and that’s if you go through a good amount of glamor keeping them nice and healthy. You may be too young to appreciate this, but that’s a tiny fraction of your lifespan, and if you get too invested in your pet, it will create a wound that will never heal once they finally pass.” He sighed with a grin, clearly reminiscing. “Grief is always so beautiful to watch… not even my finest knife can create a wound so deep, to hurt one such as us in a way that echoes throughout eternity.” The Lord of Flashing Knives was a sadist of the truest sort, but he seemed to like Tanya, for whatever reason. The rationale was never clear. 

Still, Tanya was certain that Visha was not a pet. They recalled being a mortal too keenly for that, and they lacked the experience of the passage of centuries to get the perspective that Jack thought they should have. Err… The Lord of Flashing Knives. Crap, they thought his name. Fortunately doing that just once doesn’t do anything, they’ll just need to be more careful. Anyway, more to the point, Tanya’s lost a pet before. They grew up with a dog, Kinha, who died of cancer when they were at college. The feelings were not the same. 

“Visha.” Tanya whispered, “Visha.”

Visha blinked slowly, barely registering Tanya’s presence. But after a second to realize what was going on, her blank expression and puffy red eyes turned into an expression of hope. “Tanya?” She asked questioningly. 

“Yes, but whisper. You’re already facing the wall, so don’t move.” Tanya said, spending a minute amount of glamor to conceal their conversation from the gossiping nurses. 

“I missed you.” Visha said with a whisper, fresh tears appearing in her eyes. 

Tanya winced. “Yes, I’m sorry.” They said sincerely. “I was… occupied.”

“I’m sorry, “ Visha whispered, “I know I’m just your slave, I’m sorry for-” Tanya’s hand slipped out of the darkness of Visha’s shadow just far enough to silence her, one finger on Vivha’s lips. 

“You’re not just a slave.” Tanya said seriously. “I was just… caught off guard. You are a valued employee, and… I do care about you. If you left, or died, it would… hurt.”

Visha sniffled. “But you don’t love me… not like that.”

“I don’t know.” Tanya said honestly. “But you’re still a child, despite everything. In a very real way, so am I. A fairy… their shape is not purely cosmetic. The body shapes the mind. Currently, I find the taste of meat disgusting. But if I were to, for example, become a catgirl, my opinion on meat would change. Love like that… It is a similar thing.” Tanya looked Visha straight in the eye. “So… not yet. We can discuss this again later. When both of us are older. You may not feel the same way then.”

Visha took out a handkerchief and blew her nose. When she took the cloth away from her face, she was smiling again. “Yes, later.”