By Lecian Yavetil
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Why do I have to do
this again? Xieranon knew the question was pointless, but he had long found
that asking a question silently was an excellent way to relieve excess stress
caused by situations outside of his control. If he didn’t relieve the stress in
some other—unnoticeable—way, then he might accidentally reveal it in his
expression. At that point, he’d be so hopelessly behind the rest of his Court
that he’d have to give up and live openly, like a human, so mental
conversations it was.
Because it is my
Queen’s order, he answered himself. Unanswered questions might increase stress
instead of relieving it, so it was best to answer them quickly. Or rather—fae
can’t lie, even in their heads, so he quickly had to modify his phrasing—her
chancellor gave me this assignment, and explicitly told me that the Queen
wanted it.
Grimly, he stared
at the location of his assignment from the roof of a nearby building as he mentally
tugged at his invisibility charm, making sure it hid him from sight. Moving
quickly, he spurred his mount down to ground level and moved a little closer to
observe the proper etiquette required for the task he was assigned. Finding an
appropriately out-of-the-way spot to stand in, he stopped and checked his charm
again.
Why did it have to
be me, though? Or—he knew that it was just chance he was the
unlucky fae chosen, and again revised the question—why does it always have
to be a noble? This is just beneath our dignity!
Because none of the
common fae can be mistaken for humans, he answered himself again, and
half of them wouldn’t have the wits to maintain a proper glamour, either. Taking
a long breath and releasing it again, Xieranon nudged his mount into the proper
position and released his invisibility, simultaneously crafting a detailed
glamour to take its place. Moving forward slightly, he followed the example of
the humans he had watched in preparation for his task.
“Welcome to
McDonald’s, would you like to try—”
“You can order
whenever you’re ready,” a different voice interrupted the first, supplying the
phrase that Xieranon had recently discovered meant to tell the tall pole next
to him what food he had come for.
“A number four with
a large Coke, and a number seven with a large root beer,” Xieranon rattled off
the order the chancellor had told him before he’d left the palace that morning.
“Alright, that’s a
crispy buttermilk chicken meal with a large Coke, and a fish fillet meal with a
large root beer, do I have that right?” The second voice read back to him.
“Yes,” Xieranon
replied simply, as all the other humans had.
“Okay, you can go
ahead and pull around to the next window, then. Thanks!”
Xieranon eyed the
pole disapprovingly while carefully maintaining a calm expression. It really
should be more cautious than to offer a fae such an easy opening. Oh well, I
suppose there aren’t many situations where I could actually use the
service of such a tall, obviously immobile pole. No matter it’s apparent
sentience to be able to serve the humans in such a way.
Continuing forward,
he paid at the next window, and picked the food up at the last. Finally,
it’s done. Now he just had to deliver the food to the queen’s chancellor
and remember to avoid appearing in the castle at the times when the “volunteer”
to pick up the queen’s food was chosen.
~
“Lord Xieranon, did
your hearing fail, or were the directions I gave you too complicated? The
queen’s fries were cold! I am rather sure that I told you to make sure it was
made fresh.”
Xieranon nearly
frowned, but he managed to catch the expression a moment before it reached his
face, “I gave the pole the order you told me, a number four with a large Coke
and a number seven with a large root beer.”
The chancellor, a
changeling the queen had selected for her knowledge of human society, sighed
deeply, once again nearly causing Xieranon to frown. It’s like she doesn’t
even care whether someone uses her emotions against her.
“It’s no problem,
Sylvia,” A gentle sounding voice called.
“My queen,” All the
fae in the room bowed as one to the newcomer as she stepped through the
doorway, a small smile on her face. She waved her hand for them to rise and turned
back to her chancellor and the lord she was addressing.
“After all, he’s
already brought the food back. It would be a waste if it weren’t eaten,” the
queen continued. She paused, and her smile briefly grew more pronounced and
mischievous before she quickly schooled it back to her more subdued, royal
expression, “However,” She continued, “as it seems Lord Xieranon could use some
more familiarity with the operation of fast food establishments, I believe he
should be the one to collect my breakfast in the morning.”
A chuckle sounded
in the room, and all the fae present turned to look at the female who had made
the sound. “Is something amusing, Miss Nireia Laurel?”
The human laughed
again, smiling quite cheekily at the fae queen of the Day Court, “Not yet. Ask
me again in a few weeks.”
~
“Welcome to
McDonald’s, would you like to try our caramel macchiato?” The pole queried.
Xieranon nearly huffed in annoyance. It had been a week since the first time he
was selected to purchase the queen’s lunch from the strange human establishment
called a “drive thru,” and as yet, he had not managed to retrieve an “order”
with adequate accuracy to finally excuse him from this demeaning task.
“Just
a—yaaagh!—moment, please!” The second voice requested. Curious, Xieranon
inspected the pole for any signs it might display of being in a difficult
position. It was, as always, standing upright and with no apparent issues.
However, by this point it was several times in his debt, and he reasoned that
he might as well show some concern for its future ability to repay that debt.
“Might you be in
some kind of difficulty at the moment?” He questioned carefully. No reason to
give it the impression that he cared about it. By this point, he could easily
negotiate its debt into an indentured servitude if he wished.
“Just a—urgh—little,”
the same voice replied again, sounding slightly out of breath.
Xieranon inspected
the pole again. Still no differences that he could see. “Very well. I shall
wait until you are prepared to begin the order.”
“No problem! Just a
second, aaaand. Yep! I’m ready!”
“The order is…”
~
“Welcome to—” The
first voice began.
“Could you wait a
few minutes, please?” the second voice interrupted, sounding slightly strained.
Xieranon resisted
the urge to inspect the pole. “Very well. I shall wait until you are prepared
to begin the order.”
It was now nearly
two weeks since he had first been chosen to visit this human establishment to
acquire the queen’s “fast food,” and three days ago he had finally managed to
retrieve the necessary quality of food for the queen’s supper. Upon which the
chancellor had told him, much too obviously gleefully, that the queen had said
he should continue fetching it indefinitely so as to avoid wasting his new
“expertise.”
“Oh, it’s you!” The
voice exclaimed. “Let’s see, it’s breakfast, so you’ll be wanting the two for
three and a big breakfast with hotcakes, sub round egg, and everything fresh,
right?”
“That is correct,”
Xieranon replied, carefully ignoring the half-truth that he was the one
who desired the food. He wished to collect it for his queen, so it was true
enough for him to ignore.
“Got it, I’ll tell
the kitchen you’re here! You can pull around to the next window, and I’ll ring
you up there,” The voice directed him. Xieranon gave in to the impulse to
inspect the pole again, this time checking to see if it had grown legs or been
attached to wheels since he had been there the night before.
He debated for
several more moments before he finally decided that at this point, there was
very little the pole could do to clear their debt and he could comfortably
question it without worrying it would be held over his head. “Last time I came
it was a human who ‘rang me up.’ Has this duty perhaps been simplified to the
point an articulate pole can do so?”
The voice fell
silent for a few minutes, and then requested in a strained tone of voice,
“Could you pull around, please?”
Xieranon considered
this request for a moment before wordlessly cuing his mount forward. When he
reached the first window a female was leaning out of it, looking at him
thoughtfully. He was familiar with her, over the past week and a half she had
often been the one in charge of “cashing him out,” but rarely had she looked at
him as if she could see through his glamour, as she was now.
“Hello again,” She
greeted him, almost as if by reflex. She hesitated a moment, then asked the
question he had been working to prevent for the entirety of his recent exposure
to human society, “You’re not… human, are you?”
“That is an odd
question to ask another human, is it not?” Xieranon commented instead of asked,
wary. Humans were vaguely aware that they were not the only ones living on this
plane, but any kind of direct revelation was strictly avoided. The current Day
Court queen being a near exception, of course.
“Only if you truly
are human,” she replied, her eyes searching his face for the emotions he kept
buried deep in a place they would not show. Releasing a long breath as if
bracing herself for something, she told him, “The pole where you give your
orders is neither intelligent nor articulate. The first voice you usually hear
is a recording, what we call an auto-greeter. The second voice, the one who
reads your order back to you or asks for clarifications, is a human whose voice
is carried to you through a speaker.”
Xieranon remained
silent, unsure what she intended to gain by providing him with information that
she seemed to think was common for humans to know.
She took a deep
breath, and then told him, “For the past week and a half, I have been
the second voice taking your orders for breakfast and lunch.”
There were a few
minutes of complete silence as she waited for Xieranon to work his way through
the implications of that statement. That was… unexpected, he considered,
thinking about it, I certainly wasn’t expecting it to be a human. That is…
far more useful to have in my debt than an immobile pole with the ability to
speak. He examined her carefully as the silence stretched on, taking stock
of this new resource at his disposal. She looks… a little young, for a
human. I suppose I’ll have to wait for her to grow older before I can collect
on her debt with anything useful. But…
“I see,” he said
slowly. He nodded, a sharp movement that slipped out before he could catch it,
then seemed to refocus on her face.
“Did you actually
inform the kitchen of my order?” he queried, evading the question that still
hung unanswered between them. She blinked, then nodded in understanding.
Turning back to her
screen, she quickly pushed several buttons as she replied, “Yes, it should be
ready after another minute or so. Your total is—”
She hesitated as
she went to hand him his change. “I-I won’t avoid this debt. When you decide
how you want it paid, I will follow your orders to the best of my ability.”
Xieranon eyed her
again as he deposited the change in the coin purse he had been given to make
the purchase. Yes, it would be best to wait until she has reached maturity.
A child makes for a poor servant, as they are limited in physical ability and
often require discipline, he decided, and turned away without answering. Still,
I will need to inform the queen of this, he acknowledged to himself with
some disappointment.
~
“So you have a
human McDonald’s worker in your debt,” The chancellor summed up, raising her
eyebrow in an excessive display of emotion that nearly caused a muscle in
Xieranon’s eyelid to twitch. It seems I should pay more attention to my
control. Seeing the chancellor’s over-expressiveness seems to be wearing off on
me.
“I didn’t think it
was all that important, but I’m glad you agree with me, Sylvia,” The queen told
her chancellor, smiling benignly.
Apparently, the
queen’s constant companion did not deem the smile nearly as benign as Xieranon
had assumed it was, for she hastily corrected herself, “I don’t mean to say
that it is useless to us, indebted servants can often prove themselves in
unexpected ways. However, as the girl is still very young, I do not think she
will be of much use. Humans give their own young very little power, and even as
adults they must fight for any power they wish to acquire.”
But the girl may
yet be helpful to us,” The queen said, a thoughtful look crossing her eyes
before she turned back to Xieranon. “You will continue as you have done so far,
but tomorrow you will give the girl a message. Tell her that to repay her debt
she must…”
Xieranon listened
carefully to the queen’s order, and once she had finished he barely managed to
withhold a protest. As if she could read his thoughts, she smiled gently at
him. “As compensation for losing your servant,” She continued, “Once she has
completed her task you may be relieved of your responsibilities to make my fast
food runs.”
~
And that is
why the adventurous of heart might encounter a small building with a familiar
double arch hidden deep in the woods of North Dakota. The foolhardy might dare
to step inside such an obviously faery residence to find a seemingly normal
establishment, despite its remote location.
However, if they
were to tarry long enough, they would soon see the seemingly normal customers
have slightly odd habits, such as speaking in rhymes, or paying for their food
in gold coins. Most will not stay long enough to observe these things, for the
place has a certain atmosphere that discourages even the foolhardy from
loitering for long.
After all, this
place was built so that the fae could enjoy a taste of human culture without
venturing among humans for themselves. The only human who is tolerated there is
the owner, a young woman who had worked her way up from a common crew member to
store owner as a way to pay off a debt.
About the Author
Lecian Yavetil is an
aspiring author who is currently studying in preparation to transfer to
Franciscan University of Steubenville in the fall 2022. She enjoys everything
fantasy and loves finding the ways that the legends could be twisted slightly
to understand them in entirely new ways.