The Story of the Three Laws
The first law of the Seelie Court: Do not take the life of another faerie. To do so means exile.
The second law of the Seelie Court: Do not bring harm to the balance of nature. To do so means being forgotten.
The third law of the Seelie Court: Do not congress with dark powers. To do so means death.
Ankou stared as the body of the last ogre fell beneath the golden lances of the Ethereals. His entire army, almost ten thousand strong, made up of the darkest and most base monsters he could find under the Unseelie moon, had been completely destroyed. Now, he had to face the judgment of the Faerie Queen for his transgressions.
The hosts of the Ethereals surrounded him, almost too bright to look at, and Ankou felt, not for the last time, the full inadequacy of his six inch frame. The hosts parted, and the Queen herself approached him. She looked no older than he, but that was a trick of faerie immortality. “Hello… Godmother.” He said. His voice was thick with the shame of his defeat, but he tried to put on a show of glibness.
The queen’s stoic expression did not shift. She was about an inch shorter than him, and she held the same bright wings that shifted in color and light. It was true that they were both fae of royal blood, but that was the end of the similarities. She shone with the eternal light, she held a sword and scepter and upon her head was the most regal crown imaginably. A living thing that nurtured its wearer. Long had Ankou coveted it, but now it seemed horrific.
In contrast, Ankou was a meek, broken creature. He wore only drawstring pants, and his body was unkempt and scarred. Yet, he tried to keep his monstrous dignity.
“Ankou, what have you done?” The Queen’s voice sounded distant and sad, she was looking past Ankou, at the splinters and timber that used to be the mighty Mothertree, a symbol of the Seelie Court and a nurturing force for the woods.
Ankou had destroyed it.
“I made some firewood. A pity I was not able to set it ablaze. It would’ve been a fitting pyre for your entire matriarchy!” Ankou hissed.
The Queen’s expression did not change, but Ankou knew she had lost her temper.
She raised her scepter and he felt his entire body freeze in paralysis. When she spoke her voice boomed.
“You have broken the first three laws of the Seelie Court, Ankou! And so I judge you! Your name, your title, your very history shall be stricken from our records, and none may speak your name again! Children shall never again bear the name ‘Ankou’. You shall have never existed! This I decree!”
“I shall not give you the satisfaction of murdering you, Traitor.” She continued. “Instead, I sentence you to be entombed in the stump of the Mothertree you so shamelessly destroyed. There, buried alive for all eternity in silence, you may never lie or betray again.”
A____ opened his mouth to respond, but found he could not. Where a moment ago overwhelming light filled his senses now he was plunged into pure darkness. His voice, his name, and his future all stripped from him.
From somewhere close, he heard a woman singing. He recognized the tune. A Tzeentch-song. The Stygian Witch had been waiting for him here.
He smiled. In for a penny, in for a pound.