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The Fey Conquest, # 4— "Inevitable Enemies"

  • Writer: David Parker
    David Parker
  • Oct 2, 2023
  • 5 min read

[Short Stories. images generated by hotpot.ai]















Swain, the leader of the Separatists, oversaw the militarization of the war band, which was now over two-thirds comprised of the Fey Folk they conquered, and were also conquering. According to his scouts, Dunbar the Fletcher reigned with an iron fist, the women simply being war booty, and the conscripts being paid with what he confiscated, which was everything. In addition, instead of training them for battle, he forced his captives to take runes, on pain of death for refusal. With ruthless efficiency, his war-band grew, but because he had bided his time and tarried in his location, Swain’s forces still outnumbered him— there were more recruits available because he had covered more territory than the Fletcher.

















Weez the Badger, he prayed to Zakarum, would stay out of his hair as he savaged the territories of the Southwest. Morris, the Pig, absent of Swain’s knowledge, managed to attract like-minded robbers from the Fey Folk of the North/Northeast. Other than that, his power lay not in numbers, but in all the magicite he plundered from those territories, he and his lieutenants becoming some kind of horrible demigods.

Swain’s method of gathering recruits was preferable to The Fletcher’s, as he did not confiscate entire estates along with all their people. Instead, those who could not join his war effort were taxed, and vice versa. He gained numbers more slowly than Dunbar, but because he covered more ground on his way to Sovereign Valley, he had more potential levies.
















When Dunbar slowly closed the distance between him and Swain, he found all the households and people Swain had already drawn from. Word would eventually spread that The Fletcher would confiscate, conscript, or kill anyone or anything in his path, whereas Swain had some semblance of humanity.


Because The Fletcher was drawing from the leavings of his adversary, he struck out in a curve to meet against Swain after he had looted the territories that Swain had not covered, to the North.


With charisma and leadership abilities, Swain was gaining a following of loyal Fey Folk recruits, who were even excited at the adventure of war. Moreover, thanks to the lip service of his lieutenants and the ones he had befriended, his recruits gained an understanding that Swain was there to defend them against The Pig, The Badger, and The Fletcher.


There were now seven Fey Folk both practicing making and producing shields, of which there were now nine usable escutcheons. One of them was making a kite shield, but mostly made from non-metal components. One of them was found to be spitefully indifferent to the quality of his work, and for this Swain had him flogged and set to milking goats.


"Let's see you F@%k this up!!" barked one of his lieutenants. Unused to such discipline, the Fey People shuddered at incurring the wrath of the Separatists, and more than a few dreamed of escape.


Garyf Minus One, his own fletcher, now had the production of arrows efficiently in the hands of camp followers and a few greenhorns who were useless in battle. Garyf the Poleman and the few craftsmen he trained had produced fifteen spears, twelve of which were actually usable and not broken into parts and kindling. Mark the Bowyer had produced four bows, and he had two trainees who had produced three useless bows. Swain had his eyes peeled for others who were not inept at bow-making.


Stone and Lomar were training recruits to shoot arrows, with mixed success, and much cursing took place at the preserving of arrows and the limited supply of bows. The recruits who trained with their makeshift weapons, along with those who somehow obtained martial gear, were still not fit for battle against soldiers trained in Ivalice. Those who received runes, however, hardly needed to be trained at all, and of their own volition would train to use the magic they acquired from slain/captured espers. These, Swain believed, would most likely turn the tide of battle, but in terms of wielding the power of the espers, none of the Separatists had any more experience than the Fey Folk. Thus, in terms of wielding runic magic, they were theoretically on a level playing field with The Fletcher.















Meanwhile, Maka had already known about Swain and the Separatists for two months. In Looking Glass Monastery, made in the design of the Fey Realm, West of Iceglass fountain, their people bustled and fretted about the invaders. For the first two weeks, they used the Gift of an Esper of Vision to magically view the progress of Swain, the closest invader to Sovereign Valley. They had anxiously eyed his arrival to a village where they believed the patron espers would smite the intruder, but they had all quailed when the township was conquered, and the resident espers broken down into magicite. Just as before, Swain’s war-band simply grew stronger.


A priestess of the Esper of Vision, Venerable Naori, cloistered herself for three days in the presence of Aestheyas, her Patron Esper. From there, she received an oracle telling the future.

“All Fey Lands both East and West of Iceglass fountain shall fall,” said Venerable Naori, “But you shall mend them, when you win the heart of the Conqueror.” “What kind of Oracle is that?” said Maka, “Why would Aestheyas prophecy against us?” “The Dark Espers of the Fey Realm have fed on our children for too long,” said Naori, “Our people have grown complacent.” “And so we’re plunder for people more wicked than us!?” “The New Age has yet to dawn,” said Naori, “We are all being tested, both our people and Ivalice.” “Well, if we pass the test, can we keep our country?”

Naori was silent.

“Venerable Naori?” said Maka anxiously. “Too many of us have surrendered our children to darkness,” said Naori, “The Fey Realm shall fall.” There were tears in Maka’s eyes. “I’ll find a way to outsmart the invader!” she said, “We are the rightful people of this land! The True People!” “Perhaps that is why they win,” said Naori, “The invaders were prey in their own land. Now our land is being given to them.” “Naori!!” cried Maka. “Aestheyas has spoken,” said Naori, “Get ready to tame the heart of the White Tiger.”


*-------------------------------------------*


Think about it: I’m resolved to write 30+ short stories a month, complete with beautiful illustrations. Combined with my unique writing style, innovative ideas, and unlimited creativity, I’m making magic happen in your life. Two comic books cost eight bucks, and it’s the same stuff you’ve been hearing about for at least fifty years. Voluntarily pay me at least five bucks a month, and you’ll know you’re getting your money’s worth. Be a team player, and we’ll all make some magic happen together. Swain and the Rising Dawn Society can’t make it without you, fellas. Donate via Venmo, Paypal, or GoFundMe, and I’ll be all hands on deck. Hell, I could be doing 60 short stories a month if I had some motivation to do so ;)


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