The Lonely Ones

Inksgiving Reward 2022

Hello, hello friends! If you're unaware, tapas has an event in November where users can donate ink to creators. For hitting a certain amount, I created a few rewards such as an extra chapter for The Secrets of Lore Seymour and an extra chapter for The Lonely Ones. This takes place after the main story and it's just a fun little look into what's happening and how our characters are doing. Enjoy!

Slaying the High King had somehow become the least troubling incident of Wren's life for the true problems came afterwards. Wren could never have imagined the never ending list of consequences.

First came Artemis' slow change, garnering powers that had him controlling the very shadows, creating wisps of light, and morphing the very ground beneath their feet as if it were clay made purely for him. A fun period, Wren would admit, where he attempted explaining how fae magic worked and Artemis attempted to understand. Some magic may have been used in a more sexual capacity, but Wren found that Artemis learned much quicker that way.

During that slow transformation there were a million and one fae and mortals alike confused, enchanted, and angered. Rulers from far and wide wanted to know who slayed the High King, who ruled the Grim Woods, and what, if any, changes were to be made. This obviously meant many guests, which Wren did not like as he would rather spend the days in bed with Artemis. They rarely spent any nights together during that time and Wren may have chased some mortal duke with a crossbow for entertainment but Artemis need not learn of that.

Artemis' plans were not well met. He wanted an end to the lives fae have always known. Obviously, they did not react well to this, defying his orders and wreaking havoc out of spite. Day and night for weeks or months, Wren lost count, Artemis toiled over a decision that would lead to even more serious consequences. None of which Wren could surmise, as he couldn't believe what they were already going through.

Eventually, Artemis had to make a tough decision; to continue the High King's rules, those who entered the Grim Woods risked losing their lives to the fae. Though he had a few loyal to them patrol the borders, they all understood that, like before, some fae would venture from the lands to get what they pleased. Artemis punished those he learned of and lost many nights of sleep over such decisions. Wren had to call him to bed, distracting his worried mind. He'd kiss away Artemis' concerns and hold him through the long nights, almost feeling a sense of guilt for enjoying these moments. He liked when Artemis turned to him for support and guidance. He liked that Artemis wanted to be at his side when he was sad or frustrated. Wren never imagined himself to be the type to care for something so trivial, but Artemis has that effect on him.

Sometimes tedious matters reared their ugly head. One in particular resulted in Wren leaving for a month, another for almost three, both to calm uprisings and this last time, Wren had to attend to battling his annoying siblings. A full year has passed since Wren last saw Artemis or stepped through the halls of Thorn Hill.

Wren rarely kept track of time for time meant little to fae. Years passed and he thought nothing of it, lately though he had been paying more attention. First to the time spent away from Artemis, then to Maggie and Dust's children, who swiftly morphed from disgusting worms to vile critters yapping all day and making mud pies in their father's garden. Wren never saw the appeal of children, which is why he glares at the buggers the moment he sees them in Thorn Hill. They are not the first people he wished to see after returning from his travels. None would ever guess their mother to be mortal for fae blood is strong. They share Dust's long pale hair and Maggie's blue eyes, skin fair as can be and ears slightly curved.

"Out of the way, vile creatures," Wren orders, shoving the older one, Misha, that he believes is eight. The younger, Danya, dares to attempt biting Wren's hand, earning herself a swift tug on her pigtail. "Taint my skin with your saliva and I will pull out your teeth."