Excerpt: Sidhe

Abán had never seen a leprechaun half breed before. It was an impossibility. However, the proof of its existence was staring him right in the face. The child was beautiful. More so than any leprechaun should be. They were not an ugly race, though the humans painted them with that brush. Any creature who hoards riches and tricks people out of it, must be tarred with an ugliness – it is only fair. But the leprechaun was a deeply misunderstood creature.

Still his station was as lesser creature in the Sidhe Court and their existence along with other lesser good folk was very carefully monitored. “Please, Abán,” Ignatius began: “He is all I have of my wife. All I have to continue the line. He was born a male, for a purpose. Without him the rainbows will have too few watchers, my kind will suffer.” Ignatius glanced up then, daring to meet the High Chancellor’s eyes. The look in them was cool and indifferent, though Abán felt anything but indifferent.

He sighed deeply, and stood out of his chair. At seven foot tall and with that long rich golden hair, he was more remarkable than anything most creatures would ever get to see. His skin glowed, as if lit from the inside by a low burning lamp. Ignatius was mesmerized, and the boy at his side squeezed his hand tightly. His life hung in the balance and to him, this glorious angel was nothing more than the angel of death. Would he be struck down right here and now for being something he had no choice but to be?