How to Be a God [ManXMan]

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Of Monsters and Gods

~Chapter Twenty-Eight: Of Monsters and Gods~

I find the flesh-eater on the outer edge of the city's market square. It actually is a market day, as vendors have set up stalls all along the main road and many Fae, from both the city and outside it, are perusing the goods. The wendigo had likely been drawn by the magic of the area made stronger by all the emotions that the twice-monthly market always radiates.

Unfortunately, I was not the first to find him, though, as a small group of Fae have already taken a great interest in the foreign creature none of them have ever seen. It seems I was correct about the assumption that bringing him was the best option, as the Were would have been enslaved or kidnapped by now, but that does not mean this situation is much better. The Fae are never slow to snatch up an opportunity dropped right in their laps, after all.

"-your name?" One of the Fae, an elderly female with yellow-ish skin, asks, and though I can tell her innocent curiosity is a ruse, I am not certain if the flesh-eater can.

Intentionally smoothing my expression into the stoniest mask I can, I make my presence known by stepping up to the small group of lesser Fae. "You were supposed to stay by my side," I snap coldly, and when his unfocused red eyes land on me, I mentally frown.

Is he more susceptible than I thought, or did I miss something important?

I eye his lips, but there is no blood and a lack of moisture. However, his unfocused state still makes me worry that he might have tasted something. For a human, consuming anything from Faerie would lead to enslavement – if the food or drink is given – and/or the inability to leave Faerie. Wendy is not human, but I am not sure if that rule applies to him or not, and I would rather not find out the hard way.

The Fae I nudge rather unkindly out of the way protests, but I ignore him in favor of grabbing the wendigo's chin. Wendy's lips peel back in a snarl, which suggests that he is not as lost as I first thought, but his eyes still seem unfocused and his visible skin looks flushed. Releasing his face and turning on my heels, I face the small crowd.

"What did you do?" I accuse the group as a whole, as I am not certain who caused this. That is, if anyone actually caused this. For all I know, this could be how his species handles large quantities of emotionally-charged magic.

One of the Fae, the one who tried to ask for Wendy's name, scowls at me. "Your mark isn't on him," she accuses, as if that means the wendigo is ready for someone else to claim.

"I was not aware Fae started marking their guests," I snap right back at her, albeit with tone far colder.

A squat Fae with pointed teeth and squinty eyes, a goblin most likely, cuts in, "A guest? No one brings guests anymore."

"Why not?" Without looking back, I grab the wendigo's arm to stop him from disappearing again. Turning my head to the side, I order, "Stay."

"Faerie's been closed off to outsiders ever since the war," the yellowish Fae says, eyeing me warily. Rather than ask the questions that are clearly on her mind, though, she waves her hand in the air dismissively. "Not that I really care. If your 'guest' isn't up for grabs, then I'm done here."

When she walks off, a few of the Fae take it as a sign that they should leave as well. Only four remain. "What are you?" one of the remaining Fae, a youth with shaggy brown hair and dark skin, asks. He had been hanging around the back of the group, acting as more of a spectator than as part of the group, at least until I arrived, which suggests that he is more curious about me than the wendigo.

That does not mean I have to answer his question the way he wants me to, though.

"My companion is a wendigo," I reply, intentionally acting as though the question were not for me. Their confusion, though, definitely catches my interest. I glance sideways at the wendigo, wondering how an entire species could be unknown to the Fae.