She may be concerned but Pif certainly wasn’t as he ran out the door squealing with excitement.

Raised and incredulous she heard the same Fae voice say, “What! How are you back? Why are you back? You, you shouldn’t be back.”

Touching Pif’s thoughts she saw a tall blonde man dressed in strange clothes that gleamed like metal and the handle of a sword peeked over his shoulder. He also must be much stronger than he looked because while he looked skinny and tall like the trees of this land he barely moved as Pif’s full weight at a full sprint slammed into him.

He also clearly knew Pif because he didn’t even flinch when hugged tightly by the wriggling green menace and licked enthusiastically.

Unwinding Pif from around his neck he set him down and smiling down at the excited Goblin said, “You shouldn’t have come back, but I’m glad to see you healthy and well.”

Raelea decided to take a chance and walked out of the barn as she stepped out from the gloom of the ruined building a golden shield laced with lightning sprang up around him.

Hand drifting toward the handle of his sword he asked suspiciously, “Who are you?”

Gesturing to Pif she said, “One who also find friendship with that very strange little creature. I certainly mean you no harm.”

He didn’t relax in the slightest, with a rasp he drew his sword saying, “If you truly intend no harm stop the Witch’s tricks, I can feel your words trying to twist my mind.”

Ears burning she said, “Errm, sorry about that. When your life has been under threat for as long as mine has you train yourself to react in certain ways automatically, the reaction is ingrained and hard to restrain unless you pay attention. I truly did not intend to try influencing you.”

Pif looked at the tense situation, head swivelling from one to the other then he stamped his foot and pushed on the Fae man’s hand urging him to put his sword away while he shook his finger at Raelea and sent, “Nice-nice, naughty! Good-good is friend, we not magic on friend.”

“Well I was just told off. Pif was quite adamant ‘we not magic on friend’ so unless you want to explain to him why we’re fighting I’d suggest we talk.”

With a puzzled expression he said, “Pif?”

She said, “He can’t speak and before I was able to communicate properly I needed something to call him. So I named him after that sound he makes. He seems to like it, even once I’d performed the ritual and we could communicate he chose to keep it.”

“Goblins don’t have names usually, you need abstract thought for that and they don’t usually get quite that intelligent. I knew he was smart but I didn’t know he’d become that intelligent.” Then shrugging he said, “Pif?... Makes sense. Speaking of names, mine’s Corvus.”

Pif was watching them carefully with his fiery magic swirling just out of reach. When the Fae Chanar had put his sword away and they’d started talking with no hostility she saw the magic fade away, he broke into a wide and happy grin. Then clearly not interested in the talking he wandered over and settled himself against the wall of the barn but then he got an idea and bouncing up he ran over to the horse. He rummaged through it’s packs until he found a rawhide bag of fatmeat and returning to his seat settled himself down and started to eat.

The man grinned, looking at the Goblin stuffing his face with food, “Well that hasn’t changed.”

She laughed again and said, “I’m Raelea and yes he definitely eats enough for two. I can’t bring myself to complain about it though, without his strength the Fae Chanar I fought would have killed me.”

Looking concerned Corvus said, “You fought a Fae Chanar? So, how close behind you are they? Valard, the master of these lands is not well liked but will comply with a request by one of his brethren. So I’m afraid you’ve placed yourself into a trap. The ways to enter this land or exit it are very limited because Valard is not well liked and rightfully fears an attack by his brethren.”

“One of his brethren? I thought, wait are you not a Fae Chanar?

Corvus snorted a laugh and said, “Me? Hardly. I’d love to see a true Fae Chanar’s face when you said that. I’m Fae, the slaves not the masters. Fae Chanar literally means ‘Ruler of the Least’ in high Fae and I shouldn’t even know that much… the Fae Chanar do not like the Fae learning that tongue. To save you from accidentally insulting one of them, Fae Chanar features have sharp edged planes while Fae are similar but coarser, more blurred. Fae hair can be any regular colour but Fae Chanar hair is always purely monochromatic, from unnaturally black through every shade of grey to unnaturally white. So if the person you speak with has hair that does not look like it fits in reality and has edges to their features you could cut with, it is a Fae Chanar. Also if they are so arrogant their words make you want to punch them, if they treat you as if you are nothing more than slime, if they ignore everything but their own desires even when it will injure or kill others, it’s a Fae Chanar. Then you can avoid accidentally insulting them, I’ll leave it up to you if you wish to deliberately do so. Personally I believe they should be at every single chance but they are none of them weaklings and they are extremely violent when they feel they are not being respected.”

“Oh. I take it you don’t like them much?”

“Just a little, so how far behind you is the Fae Chanar?”

Gambling a little she said, “I’m not pursued, she is dead.”

Corvus’ eyes widened in shock, he said, “What? I find that very hard to believe. Do you happen to know the Fae Chanar’s name? Some are much weaker than others.”

“I only ever knew her as the Young God, she gave us no other name.”

“A female Fae Chanar playing God among the tribes recently? Hmmm.” He paused, tapping his chin and thinking then said, “Hair the grey of a Winter’s afternoon? Focused on the Death, Fire, and Air realms?”

“Sounds like the woman that I killed, yes.”

“Very interesting. Deniz was a High Fae Chanar, there were less than a dozen who matched or exceeded her strength and she fell to you with Pif’s aid?”

She hadn’t heard a single untruth so she decided to gamble again, “Pif and one other who will rejoin us in a few days, he is away for now after distracting the keep guards.”

“Only three of you and none died? Deniz has killed entire armies, she once duelled a Dragon to a standstill and most other High Fae Chanar feared her in combat. But... she was actually kind of terrible at the grand game. Which was why she was seeking an army in the tribelands, she’d lost all her forces here.” Corvus smiled widely, “I must ask you a question. Do you believe in fate Raelea? Because I didn't, not until this very moment. I freed Pif because I found his suffering unnecessary. Valarad had his success and his knowledge, he was continuing to torment the poor creature for no reason. Now Pif returns bringing a proven slayer of Fae-Chanar with him and a Witch at that. Brings her to me, a highly placed servant of one of their worst and who is utterly sick of the whole lot of them. So Raelea of the Tribes, would you believe fate has sent you to aid me in destroying their rule?”

He spoke no falsehoods but could she trust him? She said, “That sounds exactly like why I’m here but why do you want to destroy them? Why fight them? What are your reasons? They have been the rulers of this realm for more than two hundred thousand turnings, what reason could you have that is good enough to make you want to fight them. Being sick of their rule is not enough.”

He smiled lopsidedly and shrugged, “Perhaps it is. Perhaps it is simply because they have ruled for so long. The records held by the oldest of the Fae Chanar interested in such things go back two hundred and thirty five thousand turnings and I’ve studied those records. But, perhaps it is because their rule has destroyed whole civilisations far too many times. The tribes, the Oruc Fae and the Dwaris Fae are only the most recent victims to be. We Fae have always survived but the other Fae races never do, there is a cycle to their wars on each other they become more vicious, apocalyptic and soon after they will take to the wholesale slaughter of each others Fae as has happened half a dozen times before. They then fight wars of annihilation, wars of genocide, they wipe out all civilisation other than themselves and their direct Fae retainers and after there is a period where no other Fae races are kept. Then the whole cycle starts again. So perhaps I do this because I wish to see the civilisation we have thrive rather than be destroyed by bored creatures who think of themselves as Gods. Or perhaps I do this because I'm insane. Maybe both.”

Thoughtfully she said, “You believe what you say and that is good enough for me, for now. The question is how can we do what you say you want to?”

Scratching his chin he frowned and said, “I’ve thought long and hard about it and… I have no idea. There are less than a hundred Fae Chanar but that just means there are less than a hundred godlike beings we must defeat and kill. But I do know we will need an army, we will need allies, and we will need luck.”

“I can’t do much about the luck but allies? I’m a Witch, convincing people to do what is right and proper even if it’s painful is what we do. One thing of many.”

Nodding he said, “And your skills will be very useful, all of them. But! For now I must return to the Tower. You’ll be safe enough here for a day or two while I find somewhere better because this place is out of the way and in this season not many Fae will be wandering far from their worksites as planting is in full swing.”

She nodded and said, “I will await your return.”

“Pif! I’m leaving, I’ll be back later.” he called to the Goblin who was still busily stuffing his face. Looking up he dropped the bag and ran over to throw his arms around Corvus, goodbyes said he scuttled back and sitting down continued to eat.

Raelea just shook her head, “His heart's in the right place.”

“Until later.” Corvus shimmered with small lightning bolts then was gone in a muted crackle and flash.

Raelea returned to the barn, unloaded Horse, set up her temporary camp wards, her sleeping pad and the thick fur robe and snagging the bag of fatmeat from Pif, who grumbled at her but handed it over, began to eat. Who knew how long it would take for this strange Fae man to get back?