As Above, So Below (wlw)

Prologue

As Above, So Below

by loveender

Prologue

    When the moon rises to its peak, we crawl out from under the earth. Our nails gather dirt and we break some bones, but to breathe the fresh air, we find it worth it. We come here on a mission: gather useful information and crawl back to where we came from. Don't get caught, don't use magic, and don't interact with the sirens. But I am inpatient, my body rattles with wasted potential, as the days go by, my magic grows weaker, my skin gets older while trapped in darkness. I crave the sun. The moon has been my companion for 23 years, some of those visits where prohibited, but not even my mother could control my restlessness.

    The sirens, beautiful and deadly, have killed us off slowly. 50 years ago, the faeries were the majority on this side of the earth. Until the sirens wanted our knowledge. We were forced into hiding after many years of fighting and dying. My people never gave in to their oppressors, they saw it better to burn our scrolls and precious books. They saw the tongue as a more powerful weapon than a piece of paper. We now tell our magic rather than write it and read it. It has led to some pleasant discoveries. We were no longer bound to rules of those set before us.

    As the war went on, we diminished in population. Our once great and advanced civilization, had shrunk massively. My people divided themselves into seven and hid underground in different parts of the continent. This made it harder to find us, but not impossible. They took my father when I was born, and my mother was left as the sole leader of my clan. She had wanted to make something out of me, but I did not bend. I thought of myself as a quiet child, maybe even curious and I had gotten into a lot of trouble, but I was also simple, irrational and impulsive. I was a sort of thorn in my mother's side. So she put me to good use the older I got.

    I discovered the Underworld a few years ago. The tavern no one really wanted to be caught at. The floors were sticky, it smelled like cow shit, and the watered down ale was overpriced. No one would even dare try the food, you can never be too sure if it's rat or actual chicken. The Underworld didn't ask too many questions for the right price. I ment Hella that way, she was the owner of the tavern and one look at my green eyes, she knew I was fundamentally different from her and her guests. She said she'd keep quiet for the right amount of gold. Underground we never had a use for money, we were a community that helped each other. So I made her a deal.

    "I'm good at stealing information," my nerves had made my voice quiver.

    "What use have I for information?" Her nose turned upward towards me.

    "You have a lot of use for information. Your brothel, for example, is suffering greatly because you do not know who these men are or what they have," she sat down some ale in front of me. "Table next to the door, his name is Theodore Francis, high level smuggler from the south border. He can bring anything in from the south, be it a person or a piece of paper. He comes here for the pretty faces you have, but also because it will never cost him more than a day's worth of work."

    "How do I know you are telling the truth?" I cringed as the disgusting taste of whatever she served went down my throat.

    "Look at him," from head to toe he was clean, had a new suit and styled hair. "Plus, I have no reason to lie. If you wanted me caught you would've, but I know you wouldn't want to draw attention to your business. If it becomes part of the crown's raidar, you might have to start paying extra and you'll lose what makes this place fun."

    "I like you kid. I'm Hell," her pale skin and black hair shone underneath the tavern's lights. "You are?"

    "You can call me Bell," I smiled and downed the last of the ale.