The Doe, the Queen, and the Devil

In an ancient grove within a forest long lost to time, a woman of unparalleled beauty sang. Words flowed from her lips in an ancient tongue, divine in their melody, as she plucked and strummed a harp. Animals from the forest of all shapes and sizes gathered at the grove to listen. From little squirrels to hulking behemoths, the melody tamed the wildness of nature. The grove was now a grand hall, the woman's silent audience enchanted by the runs of a scale unfathomable to mortal ears. The wind died, the fish in the spring stilled, and even the babbling brook babbled no longer. Silently, to the notes and voice of the woman, the forest agreed in unison: Our queen is back; the Fae queen has returned.

The young doe was no exception. She had never met the queen, yet her mother and father told tales of Queen Mab, and her exploits. She stood the test of time as one of the most ancient immortals ever to walk the earth, having seen the rise and fall of many mortal nations, the birth of new immortals, and their deaths. The doe could not move, could not make even a sound as she was charmed by the melody. That was fine. For who would dare move anyway? Not even the wind whistled during the immortal opera. 

She did not know the words being sung, but the meaning was conveyed nonetheless. It was an ancient poem, one supposedly as old as the queen, of a grand journey through the world. The epic of Mab was the name. It spun tapestries of heroes and demons, the deaths of good men, and the rise of evil. It was sadness and happiness; pain and joy; gentle and cruel; an ocean and a desert; love and hate; power and weakness; arrogance and humility; war and peace; life and death; it was the beginning and the end. It was lonely and small.

It was the world through the eyes of a woman of infinite wisdom. The young doe was unworldly and did not understand the surge of feelings this ode to greatness and cowardice called forth. She cried, and she laughed, all without making a sound. Perhaps time was the only thing brazen enough to defy the stillness as hours came and went during the performance. That could be the true meaning of the tale. For, as broad a view as the song provided, there was an understanding of smallness hidden within. Time did not stop to listen, for Father Time witnessed it all himself and would continue to witness it even after the queen's death. If the queen is small, then what am I? The young doe wondered but had no answer. 

When the song reluctantly ended, it was on a sour note beneath the beginnings of the evening's stars. The forest bowed in reverence to the world's keeper, and the young doe was slow to react, still enthralled by the beauty of a good story. The applause of a single entity broke the silence of the grove. It felt blasphemous. 

"Bravo, Lilith, bravo." A man with the same bipedalism as the mortal folk strode through the ancient grove. He was tall, with horns like fractured night shaped like a goat's. His skin had a bloody red hue and a long, thin tail as black as his horns. He was beautiful, but not in the way the queen was. She was grace and regality; he was a sick wickedness one could not help but be drawn to. 

"Lucifer," a name mentioned in the epic, Lucifer Morningstar. Prince of hell. Sin-eater. Once the lover of the Queen.

"I used to love it when you sang that for me. It's gotten a few new verses since I've last heard it. Your voice is as lovely as I remember," He closed his eyes in what the doe assumed was reminiscence. "I can still hear it if I listen hard enough. 'Time is the only true god, watching me weep from his shrine of bones,' Ah, What a sentiment! I love that line. Tell me, how did you come up with it?"

"What is it you want, Lucifer?"

"C'mon, call me Lucy, for old Time's sake. I hear he's watching from his ivory shrine." He opened a single eye to peek at the queen through his long lashes. "Aw, chin up, Lilith. Don't look so glum. You're prettier when you're smiling." Who was Lilith? Witnessing this conversation felt wrong, yet the doe was as entranced as she was during the queen's performance. 

"I'm not going to play your twisted mind games, Lucifer. Tell me why you are here or leave."

"Aren't you a little old for the jilted lover bit?"

"Lucifer—"

"What if I told you I was missing you, Lilith? What if I told you I wanted you for an accompaniment?" The devil sat on a hickory stump and pulled a golden fiddle from thin air, manifesting it in a burst of flame. He began to rosin his bow—the bow of the same fiddle, according to the Epic of Mab, that was gifted to him by the Fae queen herself. The devil drew his bow over the golden fiddle, and it made an evil hiss. That one note sewed chaos in the forest. Carnage and destruction, disorder and obsession, sin and yearning, crime and punishment—a putrid beauty.

"Enough, Lucifer! This is my forest, and you will follow my rules." The horrible screech came to an abrupt halt. The doe found herself missing it—and why was the queen answering to that name—Lilith?

"Perhaps I overstepped, forgive me."

"Just tell me why you're here, Lucy."

A victorious smirk curved those red cheeks. He'd won. "We made a pact on our souls long ago. Before we fell in and out of love. You remember, right Lilith?"

"A favor for a favor—I should've known."

"I'll be needing to borrow your abilities of glamour."

"And what of my forest—my home? If I let you borrow my power, I cannot hide my forest."

"I'll keep the glamour on your forest intact; I promise it on my wicked immortal soul." The language switched to demonic cursed speech, sealing the pact. 

"Can you tell me why?" 

"An interesting human has sprung up, and I intend to have a little fun." Smoke curled from his mouth as he licked his lips.

"You mean the hero?"

"You always know me so well, my dear."

"I haven't been your 'dear' in a long time."

"You could be again, if only for the night," 

"Haaa, enough. I will grant your request only if you promise not to harm the boy or those he surrounds himself with. He is important to the survival of our realm, or so says the Morrigan. One of my children also works for his organization—you're dead if anything happens to them."

"With that, our bargain is sealed, my little Lilypad~" The devil snapped his red fingers, and his appearance changed to that of a handsome young human with white hair and red eyes. For a moment, those red eyes met the doe's, and she felt an overwhelming urge to run. Run, run, run in the opposite direction as fast as her little legs could carry her. The devil looked to the queen and smiled, "Any chance venison is on the menu for tonight?"

The doe shook in her hooves.

 "Lucy, leave while you are still a welcome guest."

"Very well," The devil bowed and disappeared in a fireless smoke.

The queen turned to look at the doe, warm and motherly, "What did we learn today, child?"

The prettiest people can do the ugliest things, the doe thought.

"Indeed," the queen stood. The long tresses of her white gown stayed clean as it trailed in the grass and mud of the grove. She stopped before the doe, knelt, and looked the doe in the eye as she stroked the short fur on her head.

"Indeed."