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xp_logsJay and Jono travel through the city of this Otherworld on their way to be presented to the Grand Dame, and the city is both stranger and more modern than expected.
As cities went, it was not what one might have expected when imagining Otherworld. What from a distance had appeared to be a medieval walled city was, once within the gates, something more akin to the Industrial Revolution come to Fairy Land.
The buildings seemed grown from twists of wood and fungi, yet some elements were curiously modern. It was if they had grown around the trellis of a human conception of architecture plucked from random periods in history. The open sewers, unfortunately, were timeless.
And there was something in the air. Things that looked very like a cross between creeping vines and power lines ran down the streets, and around them hung a colorful, misty haze, like a rainbow forming in mist. The smallest fae had looked at the lines and grunted something about power rationing.
Gas lamps and modern street lights burned with a St. Elmo’s fire that was barely visible against the world’s facsimile of a sun. They had been escorted through a market replete with the detritus of worlds, where plates of gold and bushels of gem-bright fruit shared pride of place beside yellowing Cabbage Patch dolls and vinyl records. One of the fae had explained these artifacts sometimes appeared in their world like debris washed ashore by the tides. Amongst the crowds of goblins, trolls, and animal-headed humanoids Jay and Jono garnered not a second look. On the main thoroughfare they were nearly run over by a streetcar carried by thousands of millipede legs.
The castle at the city’s center, however, was every bit what one might expect from a fairy tale. Its construction of gold-tipped marble towers was a thing of pure fantasy. Every arch and crenelation swarmed with figures that could have been statues or living beings. Both might have been true.
“You are to speak only when spoken to,” warned the winged fae as they approached. “Cast down your eyes until you are invited to look upon Her. It is she who stokes the Engine of this city, and she who may snuff its flame. Considerable though your talents may be, do not think them so great you may disrespect Herself and live.”
"I wouldn't wish any disrespect," Jay nodded, slow and respectful-like. He had never met royalty before, but he knew enough of people who thought themselves above others to value the advice on how to approach her. Disrespecting this woman would be more than losing standing and a job. It would be losing his life- and maybe Jono's. Plus any chance they had of getting home, or even their corpses home.
The castle had been hard to look at, it glittered so much. Even the stairs glittered despite how many people must grow on them, even with the open sewers around them.
The rest of the city may be more Goblin Market, but this building was pure Cinderella. Maybe a bit of Narnia with those possibly living statues. It was the type of thing you could compose poetry about easily and songs not long after.
But what did the fae mean about an engine?
He gave a glance at Jono, trying to see if he knew what that meant. Maybe it was a common thing of faerie lore.
Jono hated that this reminded him of home. But he knew how to not look at royalty, not that he’d ever wanted to anyway.
He caught Jay’s eye and lowered his head as they walked. “I’m not sure what engine they could be talking about….but most of the stories are from pre-industrial revolution……we’ll have to see it first.”
Jay had always thought steel and iron was bad for all sorts of fairies and spook-ums. Had the lamps been iron? He hadn't noticed. What could the engine be made of?
He tried to think at Jono. "Do you think rules have changed since the Industrial Revolution?”
“I think the base rules are the same but it’s possible their wants and needs have changed.” Jono thought back, trying to look at their surroundings out of the corner of his eye as they walked. He didn’t see any iron, but he wasn’t anywhere near as good at identifying metals as Paige was…he hoped she was okay back in their world.
The castle gates were staffed by two trolls incongruously topped by the hats of modern beefeaters: the seep of British iconography had penetrated even Otherworld. After a brief exchange with the winged fae the great gates were winched open. The doors were cast of gleaming copper inlaid with carvings of ivory -- or bone.
They were invited to dismount in the courtyard. The winged fae immediately broke off and headed to the castle proper. His bearing was composed, but when he turned away they could see a shiver to his wings.
"He goes to announce you," remarked the horse-eared man as he secured the reins of Jono's kelpie. The presence of the mortal on its back had the creature drooling seafoam as its carnivore's teeth champed against the silver bit it clearly wished were Jono's entrails. "Many cycles have passed since last a bard enjoyed the patronage of Herself. I envy you the revels which await."
Jono's mind went through the list of the kinds of revels the fae were known for and just barely bit back the quiet and resigned complaint of 'but what if I don't want to participate in an orgy?'
Instead he said. "I am sure that your lady will be most generous. You have all been lovely hosts. Most unlike what we are accustomed to."
As cities went, it was not what one might have expected when imagining Otherworld. What from a distance had appeared to be a medieval walled city was, once within the gates, something more akin to the Industrial Revolution come to Fairy Land.
The buildings seemed grown from twists of wood and fungi, yet some elements were curiously modern. It was if they had grown around the trellis of a human conception of architecture plucked from random periods in history. The open sewers, unfortunately, were timeless.
And there was something in the air. Things that looked very like a cross between creeping vines and power lines ran down the streets, and around them hung a colorful, misty haze, like a rainbow forming in mist. The smallest fae had looked at the lines and grunted something about power rationing.
Gas lamps and modern street lights burned with a St. Elmo’s fire that was barely visible against the world’s facsimile of a sun. They had been escorted through a market replete with the detritus of worlds, where plates of gold and bushels of gem-bright fruit shared pride of place beside yellowing Cabbage Patch dolls and vinyl records. One of the fae had explained these artifacts sometimes appeared in their world like debris washed ashore by the tides. Amongst the crowds of goblins, trolls, and animal-headed humanoids Jay and Jono garnered not a second look. On the main thoroughfare they were nearly run over by a streetcar carried by thousands of millipede legs.
The castle at the city’s center, however, was every bit what one might expect from a fairy tale. Its construction of gold-tipped marble towers was a thing of pure fantasy. Every arch and crenelation swarmed with figures that could have been statues or living beings. Both might have been true.
“You are to speak only when spoken to,” warned the winged fae as they approached. “Cast down your eyes until you are invited to look upon Her. It is she who stokes the Engine of this city, and she who may snuff its flame. Considerable though your talents may be, do not think them so great you may disrespect Herself and live.”
"I wouldn't wish any disrespect," Jay nodded, slow and respectful-like. He had never met royalty before, but he knew enough of people who thought themselves above others to value the advice on how to approach her. Disrespecting this woman would be more than losing standing and a job. It would be losing his life- and maybe Jono's. Plus any chance they had of getting home, or even their corpses home.
The castle had been hard to look at, it glittered so much. Even the stairs glittered despite how many people must grow on them, even with the open sewers around them.
The rest of the city may be more Goblin Market, but this building was pure Cinderella. Maybe a bit of Narnia with those possibly living statues. It was the type of thing you could compose poetry about easily and songs not long after.
But what did the fae mean about an engine?
He gave a glance at Jono, trying to see if he knew what that meant. Maybe it was a common thing of faerie lore.
Jono hated that this reminded him of home. But he knew how to not look at royalty, not that he’d ever wanted to anyway.
He caught Jay’s eye and lowered his head as they walked. “I’m not sure what engine they could be talking about….but most of the stories are from pre-industrial revolution……we’ll have to see it first.”
Jay had always thought steel and iron was bad for all sorts of fairies and spook-ums. Had the lamps been iron? He hadn't noticed. What could the engine be made of?
He tried to think at Jono. "Do you think rules have changed since the Industrial Revolution?”
“I think the base rules are the same but it’s possible their wants and needs have changed.” Jono thought back, trying to look at their surroundings out of the corner of his eye as they walked. He didn’t see any iron, but he wasn’t anywhere near as good at identifying metals as Paige was…he hoped she was okay back in their world.
The castle gates were staffed by two trolls incongruously topped by the hats of modern beefeaters: the seep of British iconography had penetrated even Otherworld. After a brief exchange with the winged fae the great gates were winched open. The doors were cast of gleaming copper inlaid with carvings of ivory -- or bone.
They were invited to dismount in the courtyard. The winged fae immediately broke off and headed to the castle proper. His bearing was composed, but when he turned away they could see a shiver to his wings.
"He goes to announce you," remarked the horse-eared man as he secured the reins of Jono's kelpie. The presence of the mortal on its back had the creature drooling seafoam as its carnivore's teeth champed against the silver bit it clearly wished were Jono's entrails. "Many cycles have passed since last a bard enjoyed the patronage of Herself. I envy you the revels which await."
Jono's mind went through the list of the kinds of revels the fae were known for and just barely bit back the quiet and resigned complaint of 'but what if I don't want to participate in an orgy?'
Instead he said. "I am sure that your lady will be most generous. You have all been lovely hosts. Most unlike what we are accustomed to."
