InsaneJournal

Alexander HOLLIS

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Alexander Hollis is not his birth name.

His family were not highborn Fae. They were barely even low born. They lived on the outskirts of the Seelie kingdom, in a small house. His favourite memories growing up were the bonfires his family would have every night. The entire neighborhood would come and they would gather around the fire, telling stories. Some neighbors would steal humans from the other realm, feed them their drink and food, and have them sing for the entire night, only to deposit them back once they were bored. Humans were always seen as secondary class, which was ironic to say from a group of Fae that seemed secondary to their own people.

That aside, Hollis loved the nights at the fire, warming his hands and feet, feeling the energy and flicker of the flames. His family was technically salamanders but their connection to the flame was weak. So they celebrated it more than anything else. There was always a candle burning inside the house. Hollis believed he would be the same, weak with the spirit of the fire but strong in the soul. It was a surprise to his entire family when he learnt that he could not only control the flames but create it, a gift, believed, lost to their family for generations.

The celebration was huge, lasting for weeks. A lot of Fae came, wanting to congratulate the “little salamander” on his gift. He wasn’t used to the attention but he ate it up, feeling like maybe he was bringing honour to his family, that truly didn’t have much left.

Yet with all the attention, it brought the focus of those not so desired. The bonfire had been cancelled for the night. A storm rolled in and it was pouring. Hollis sat at the window, watching it come down in buckets. The undine danced in the rain, celebrating in their own ways. There was a flash of lightning and a face looked back in the window. Hollis literally fell off his seat. When he looked again, the face was gone but someone was knocking on the door. Gwyn ap Nudd stood at the door.

Elemental Fae could be either Seelie or Unseelie and Hollis’ family was on the side of Seelie. It was unnerving to see an Unseelie in their home, especially with the sway and power that he held. Some said Gwyn ap Nudd had assisted the current Unseelie Crown Prince remove some of the competition. He was an intimidating figure and he came for one reason only; he needed one who could create fire to ride with him in the Wild Hunt. It was not a question or an offer, he grabbed Hollis and dragged him outside, in the storm, to where his horse was. He was thrown on the horse and a drink was forced down his throat. He never got to say goodbye to his family.

The first nights were a blur to Hollis. Not all that rode with the Hunt were there of their own choice and Hollis was one of those. He was given his own horse but his wrists were cuffed to the reins. Gwyn ap Nudd would remove them when he saw fit. His fire was used to light their path on the nights it was too dark to see.

Time moved strangely with the Hunt. Nights could feel like minutes but it was actually weeks. Or it could feel like days and it was no time at all. He quickly learnt if he wanted any freedom, he best do what he was told. While he was outwardly obedient, inwardly, he planned. He began to befriend Gwyn ap Nudd’s second in command, earning his way into his bed and onto his horse. To say he had freedom was a lie. While he was no longer cuffed to his horse, the second kept a close eye on Hollis, not liking him too far, just in case he tried to slip away.

The opportunity for true freedom came before he knew it. He was with the second and once the Fae fell asleep, Hollis set the entire tent on fire. The flames didn’t touch Hollis, respecting their fire-souled friend, and he got out of the tent unscathed. Hollis claimed that the second had been smoking, which he was known for his smoke rings, and the ash caught. Gwyn ap Nudd did not believe him, saying Hollis should have been able to stop the fire. He knew it was attempted murder, plain and simple, and for that, there was only one recourse.

Gwyn ap Nudd and his trusted men brought Hollis into the swap where they held him down. An old powerful Fae met them and performed a ritual to block Hollis from his fire. He passed out at the beginning but when he woke, there was a black band tattooed around his wrist, two on his forearms below his elbow and one on his bicep on both arms. Worse, Hollis felt cold, like the heat had been zapped out of him. Gwyn ap Nudd knelt in front of the trembling boy and declared he had no use for him and they rode into the mortal realm, where Hollis was dropped off. His magic, not just to the flames, was gone, leaving him no opportunity to return home.

Hollis had never been to the mortal realm. He had heard stories from other Fae and he had heard stories from the borrowed humans about the war. He didn’t expect the mortal realm to be so… ugly. Buildings and steel and cement everywhere. Where were the trees? The flowers? The waters? Humans were known to make such art, such beauty - how could they when their lands were so soulless as they were? Did their music and their art really make up for the drabbness of their reality?

Hollis was smart. He knew he needed shelter. He knew that he needed his magic back. Somehow. It took time for him to find a warlock who was strong enough. There was a deal cast, though as a fae, Hollis hardly saw it as a deal but more of a warning. The warlock would ink magic into Hollis, give him control over base elements, not very strong and not fire, which was blocked to him, but Hollis would be inviting trouble into his life. Hollis knew in the moral realm that power was key and if he had no magic, well, he had no power.

But power changed.

It did not take long for Hollis to be cornered and without proper identification, he was declared to be warlock, was arrested and taken to detainment, where his fate would be decided. He was certain that he still had his Fae characteristics but while he was out, it seemed, a glamour was bound to him as well, making him look, very much, like a male human.

So he confessed; his name was Alexander Hollis and he ran away from home. He was afraid to be sold and he made a terrible mistake. Could he please go home? They laughed at him, snapped a collar on his throat and marked him for sale.

Skill Info

Dani // 30+ // EST // jake bass // CODE