The Power of Twelve

     “What are you doing here?” he asked.

     “At last!” Jerdana said, pushing herself to her feet from her chair. “We’ve important news about our graffiti artist.”

     “Graffiti?” Altador asked, his brow furrowing in frustration. “I think we have slightly more important matters for our attention right now.”

     Jerdana nodded. He meant the Darkest Faerie, of course.

     “They may well be one and the same,” she said. “Someone has cast a memory spell relating to the Great Empire. Who, we do not know. Nor their target, or what has been hidden. But it is tied to this book, which is filling with tales on the Circle of Twelve as more graffiti appears in the streets of the city. They are linked. And I do not believe it is a coincidence this has only begun when the Darkest Faerie returned to us.”

     King Altador glanced at the book held firmly in Finneus’s hands, a brief haunted look crossing his face. Memories of the fall of the last of the Circle were hard to shift, Jerdana supposed.

     “But it can’t be,” he said firmly. “She had nothing to do with the Great Empire. No Faeries did, they were in the middle of a civil war. Xantan, Mastermind, and Jahbal, I dealt with. They were sealed away during the Empire’s fall. No one had contact with them.”

     “And yet there must be a link,” Finneus said. “The graffiti is clear. Whoever this is, they seem to think there are parallels between the Circle of Twelve and the Great Empire, and present day Altador.”

     “Such as?” Altador asked incredulously.

     “Well, there are superficial similarities, of course,” Finneus replied. “Both headed by a council of twelve Neopets, considered the wisest and most capable of their age. Both arising from the ashes of chaos, and bringing an unprecedented level of peace and prosperity to the world after their founding. Both suffered a betrayal from within, and the betrayer was sealed away by powerful magic. But our vandal has pointed out some deeper links. They have compared Jerdana, a peerless mystic, with Mastermind, the sole remaining scion of the mystics at the Temple of Roo. It was said at the time that he was the glue that held the Circle together, much as we all defer to our Lady’s wisdom in times of need.”

     “Though they did insinuate that Jerdana is manipulating us all, just as Mastermind did,” Sasha joked.

     “Indeed,” Finneus agreed. “Then there is Torakor. A fabled warrior not too different from Gyn-Marg, the Dualist. Ifuli Jomm, who burned like the sun, cannot be seen as all that different in motif to our own Siyana. Zhadoom the Elementalist, as to Psellia. Lamora, to our very own Dancer. Tradym, the notable Sailor, to our Marak. Polmith, a giant Skeith not unlike Gordos. Haestil, who tended to the land as Florin does. Bamon-Sal, who healed the sick as with Fauna. There is even a link between Kelland and the shadowy figure they called Oberon, if you look hard enough. Even the fact that the Circle’s members had titles as you do is similar. I had never considered it before, but from a certain vantage point it does seem that history has repeated itself.”

     “That would make the Darkest Faerie Xantan, yes?” King Altador asked, bristling slightly. “And myself Jahbal? Refreshing to know. But they have left out one important part. The Great Empire fell apart after Xantan’s betrayal. The Circle turned against each other. And both Jahbal and Mastermind worked together to slowly tear the world apart from their prison. Correct me if I’m wrong, but this hasn’t happened.”

     “I’m sure this artist would say they haven’t happened yet,” Sasha joked.

     King Altador shot her a dark look. This clearly was not a joking matter.

     “I’m not sure finding them to talk to them would matter,” Jerdana said. “Whoever is doing this is likely being compelled to do so by the memory spell. They may not even be aware of their actions. The Darkest Faerie is still our best bet, I am sure of it. The only person who had any notable contact with the Circle was you, Altador. Do you think there are any holes in your memories of those days?”

     “Certainly not,” Altador replied. “I remember them as if they were yesterday. Eleus Batrin tasked me with destroying Xantan, and then Rollay Scaleback. Then I liberated the Temple of Roo and lifted the Kal Panning curse before raiding Two Rings Fortress itself. First Jahbal fell beneath my blade, and then Mastermind stepped out of the shadows. When he fell, Xantan appeared, renewed. But even that was not enough to stop me. With the three of them gone, the last of the Circle’s hold on Neopia was removed and peace restored. It wasn’t long after that I returned to Schrommos and began to meet you all.”

     Jerdana nodded. All recorded history.

     “Then we must speak with the Darkest Faerie,” she said.

     “Your majesty, if I may?” Finneus asked as they moved towards the chamber doors. “Why twelve? The Altador council could have had any number of people sitting on it. Why settle upon twelve?”

     King Altador flared his nostrils. He did not like the subtext here.

     “It could have been any number, you are correct,” he answered. “But in my travels in Schrommos, and the tales I heard of its protectors, only twelve came to mind as the brightest. It just seemed to make sense.”

     The answer, it was clear, did not satisfy Finneus. But he didn’t prod the issue further.

     ***

     The Darkest Faerie had taken to watching the city from her window. It was only a small slit of a thing, but it was her only viewpoint into the world. She watched as the people of Altador went about their business. She wondered idly how many even knew she was back in the city, imprisoned as she was. And then she got to wondering what it would be like when she was gone.

     Celebrations in the streets, no doubt. Whatever legacy she once had in this place as a protector had long since been corrupted. She had made herself the villain of this piece. An evil for the city to rail against.

     A gentle knock on her door interrupted her thoughts, and Siyana let herself in. The light Faerie lit up any room she stood in, a trait that the Darkest Faerie had come to find irritating. But now, she seemed something of a welcome sight. A distraction, at least.

     “Am I disturbing you?” she asked.

     “Not at all,” the Darkest Faerie answered. “What do you need?”

     “I wondered if we may talk,” Siyana said. “Somewhere… else? I never did like these chambers. They feel oppressive.”

     “It may have escaped your notice, but I am rather under house arrest,” the Darkest Faerie said.

     “The guards will accompany us,” Siyana said. “I will take full responsibility. Torakor will not like it, but I can win him over with kindness, as you well remember.”

     “Very well,” the Darkest Faerie said, standing from her perch on the windowsill. “Lead on. I am your prisoner, after all.”

     Siyana gave her a frown at that.

     “Guest,” she corrected her.

     Siyana led the Darkest Faerie out of the Hall of Heroes, the two guards from outside her chambers following in their wake. They headed for the Park District, the quarter of the city given over to lush parkland and allotments. The people of Altador often used it on their lunch breaks and days off, so it was never quiet, but there was something liberating to Siyana about being in the open air.

     People they passed stopped and stared at the Darkest Faerie as they passed, and several muttered curses under their breath. Siyana ignored them, focusing on the path in front of them.

     “Jerdana does not believe you have changed your heart,” she said. “In fact, she believes there has never been anything in there but hatred. After your betrayal, she told us that there had always been darkness in your mind. That you had only ever joined our effort to build Altador because you wished to rule the city, and eventually the Empire. That your betrayal had been the plan all along. We were only ever tools to aid you towards your goals.”

     “Jerdana can believe whatever she likes,” the Darkest Faerie replied. “That does not make it true.”

     “Then why?” Siyana asked. “If Jerdana is wrong, then what is the truth of it? Why did you betray us? If you didn’t always intend it, then why?”

     “Why does it matter now?”

     “Humor me,” Siyana said.

     The Darkest Faerie gave her a long, hard look.

     “Very well,” she said at last. “It was the Faerie Wars, really. That’s where it all started for me. You don’t remember them, do you?”

     “I came after Fyora ascended the throne,” Siyana said.

     “They were dark times, literally and metaphorically,” the Sleeper told her. “Faeries arrived in Neopia in chaos. We fought each other in the skies for generations. The level of warfare we used has never been seen before or since, we would tear apart the very fabric of reality to destroy one another. I am not ashamed to say, I loved it. I was exceptionally good at it. There were factions, countless factions, and many vied for my loyalty. I never pledged to anyone though, not until I met Fyora.”

     “You joined Queen Fyora?” Siyana asked incredulously.

     “It was Valeane, the first Battle Faerie, who convinced me,” the Darkest Faerie said. “Though it was clear to anyone who met her that Fyora had some special quality. Valeane became Fyora’s General, and I her bloodhound. She was on a mission of peace, but even she recognised the others would not bend the knee unless they had been motivated to do so. Together, we ended the Wars. Faerieland knew peace. I knew victory.”

     She relished the word for a moment, before a disappointed look crossed her face.

     “Only, I found myself empty,” she added. “Victory did not taste as sweet as I had hoped. It was only later I realised that it had not been victory that I craved, but the chaos of war. I was not alone. Many Faerie had only ever known conflict, and the peace in Faerieland left us aimless. We did the only sensible thing - we left. Faeries of all elements descended to the surface of Neopia to find a world in ruins. The Great Empire had just crumbled. Many found a new calling in helping the Neopets rebuild. I did not. The world was in chaos, and I loved it. I spent years tormenting the survivors, villagers and bandits alike. I worked with some, but there was no one I could call a friend. No one I genuinely grew close to. Until, that is, I met you.”

     “Altador was something new,” she added. “I had never before felt so accepted. So needed for something beyond destruction. We were building something great here, something truly great. And I was happy. I mean that, Siyana. If you believe nothing else I ever say, believe that. You were my friends. The closest thing to a proper family I have ever known. If those days could have lasted forever, it would have been bliss.”

     “Then what changed?” Siyana asked.

     “Valeane,” the Darkest Faerie said. “She came to Altador one day, along with Ilere. She had been part of Fyora’s army during the war, too. The three of us, before Altador, before I knew the true feeling, I might have said we were friends. Valeane had sensed a great power growing in Neopia, a stirring evil. They asked me to help them find and destroy it. I agreed. You remember I left the council briefly? That is where we went.”

     “Where?”

     “It hardly matters now,” the Sleeper replied. “But we found what we were looking for. A creature more terrifying and unimaginable than anything I have ever seen before. Something that looked at us as the sun must look upon a Petpetpet. Irrelevant to its plans. And it’s plans were chaos. Ilere fled in terror. Valeane was ever the valiant, she stood and fought. The creature probably killed her, for she was never seen again. But me, I looked into that terrible visage, and I felt the old pangs again. Chaos, I understood, was the natural state of the universe. It was futile to even try and fight it. I fled, too, but for a different reason. To spread the chaos. I returned to Altador and it felt wrong to be here. That’s why I planned the betrayal. I came to understand that Altador would eventually crumble. It was inevitable. All things turn to ash in time. Better it happened under the guidance of a friend than someone - something - else.”

     “And now?” Siyana asked.

     The Darkest Faerie looked around, at the life of the city that continued on around them.

     “Now?” she said. “Now it all seems rather pointless, doesn’t it? Altador will outlive me. Wasted effort. Wasted years. Wasted life.”

     The two continued their walk in silence. Siyana did not ask the question that pecked at the edges of her consciousness. Do you still believe Altador must crumble?

     To be continued…