Protect

Protect. Protect. Protect.

They hummed wistfully, approaching the creature that they had felled moments before. A hand was lain upon it, a single, gentle stroke as it breathed it's last. They were silent, listening, waiting for the creature to still completely in a tell-tale sign that it had given up it's fight for life. Time held no meaning; all that existed at this moment was them and the creature. Eventually, it stilled.

Selgaire stood, closing their eyes as again they hummed. A pity it had wandered so close, but they had no choice but to take the beast down.

“Your purpose is to assist in the protection of Tír na nÓg, Selgaire. We trust you will do this to the upmost of your capabilities.”

They had been told this nearly 600 years ago, and yet they could still hear the words of the Summer Court as clear as the crystals of the Winterlands. Protect. This was their mantra, the song repeated on loop in their head as they ran to slay whatever beast had dared encroach too close to the cities they protected. Selgaire's purpose is to serve Tír na nÓg, to serve the Court. They took great pride in this, wholly devoted to those they served. And yet...

The creature was now behind them as they began the trek back to their current home. It's body would become one with nature, as all creatures of flesh became when they died. They were now left with little but their own thoughts as the rush of battle slowly faded from their thoughts.

They were hardly halfway through this life, and already they felt tired. Keeping Tír na nÓg safe was a task they did not do alone, but even still they felt the heavy burden upon them grow heavier still with every creature they killed. Every life they took away saved countless others, but what was the cost of this? Were the creatures reborn after they die, as the Sidhe are? Or are their spirits left to wander unknown places beyond their own knowledge? Or even still, do they even have spirits at all, or are they merely beings that cease existence in any form once their time ends? While it was something that had little impact on them personally, the thought still troubled them greatly. It didn't sit right to potentially destroy another creature.

Then again, it couldn't be allowed to enter their cities and kill indiscriminately. That was unacceptable and they would not allow it. Frowning, Selgaire kicked at the leaves that littered the ground. There was no good alternative they could think of, they had no choice. They were dangerous and Selgaire knew that.

They knew it, so why couldn't they stop thinking about it?

While the thought of requesting a new task had crossed their mind many years ago, and every so often since then, they knew they could never do that. This was too important a task to simply abandon and to request another was to disappoint the Court. They wished for their youth, before the weight of their duties had a chance to encumber them as they had now.

Abruptly Selgaire stopped dead in their tracks and listened intently to their surroundings. It was quiet, nothing immediately sounding different than usual, but something felt off. They sensed more than heard a presence, somewhere, but exactly where they were unsure.

Eyes suddenly shot open wide, they staggered and collapsed forward, landing hard to the ground, more by the force of the shock than the pain. In fact, the pain did not come immediately, but moments later it crashed down suddenly and was nearly overwhelming, wracking them to their very being. They struggled to maintain their form as they pushed themself off the ground. Desperate hands grasped at where the pain was most concentrated until they could finally grasp at the shaft of an arrow lodged deep into their form. It was swiftly removed, but they knew it was too late. It had surely been laced with poison created specifically for Sidhe; they had seen it used more than once on the rare occasion they were sent to kill one of their own kind that had become a danger to their own kind. Selgaire was dead the moment the arrow had struck.

Wavering, they tried to remain steady enough to remain just a little longer. It was a battle impossible to win, but they would be damned if they gave in without a fight. They just wanted to last long enough to speak, for some answers. Whoever had shot them was surely close-by to ensure their target was eradicated.

"Why?"

They now heard the sounds of footsteps behind them, coming to a stop a few feet away after what felt like an age. The answer that broke through the silence was firm, emotionless. Cold. "The Court commanded it."

Selgaire knew that voice: Faroir. they had hunted with them multiple times, had considered them a friend, perhaps someone even closer than a friend, someone they could trust. Now, they were the one who had shot them in the back by order of the Court. The Court they revered. The Court they had too, trusted completely. Once.

'Why?" They repeated, quietly at first but gradually rising in volume and intensity, laced with an anger they had scarcely felt in the entirety of their life. "Why! WHY! WH-"

Their voice hitched, form lurching forward as another arrow struck. They refused to cry out in pain, internalizing it. They refused to look weak. They could feel themself fading, faster now. It wouldn't be long until they would pass on.

"I gave all I had to the Court," they whispered. The anger was there, but more subdued, intermingled with despair. "I never... I never questioned. I gave my all. Why?"

"They could sense your hesitance," came the reply, closer now. Selgaire struggled, managing to turn their head just enough to look up, staring their assassin in the eye as yet another arrow was nocked. "Try as you might to hide it, they knew you were beginning to doubt their judgement."

They grimaced, eyes narrowing in anger. "I would never betray my Court."

"The fact that we're having this conversation means that you already have. You are, even now, questioning the Court. Tír na nÓg must be protected from defectors. The Court know what is best, and I do this on their behalf."

Another blow wracked their form. Selgaire didn't bother fighting it any longer. In silence they laid in the grass, never breaking eye contact with their former ally until they no longer could keep their eyes open, relaxing against their will as they finally died.

Ironic, that I would become the beast to be hunted.

They slipped away, pain easing into nothing, darkness overtaking their senses.

It was I who needed protecting.