Aliya lounged against a cool white marble pillar. Beside her was a blue-green pond, adorned with water lilies and birches. Floating atop the lily pads were small candles which lit the area directly around her. She dipped her fingers in and moved them in small circles, creating small ripples that followed her hand around.
She was bored, and hungry, but dinner wasn't going to be served until after the Sun God rites, and they wouldn't be started for hours. Aliya rose, and gathered her white linen skirts in one hand, padding softly out of the courtyard. Outside it was still light out, and the brightness burned her eyes. Shading them with one small hand she made her way to the main house.
Inside she went to the main hall. Her father Gayle was pacing around the room, his face twisted in frustration and anger. Aliya immediately froze, and looked for her mother, Analäise. She was reclining next to the throne on a bed of pillows, being fed grapes by one of the servant boys. Another was massaging her feet.
Rolling her eyes, Aliya went to her.
"Mother, what's wrong with Father?"
"He's angry, dear."
Aliya sighed as she plopped down next to her mother, shooing away the servants, "Why is he angry?

"Because of what the humans want him to sacrifice."
"What do they want him to sacrifice?" Aliya had tried to make her voice soft, but Gayle had heard her.
"Your brother, Gaylen," he stalked over to where Aliya and Analäise. He stood over them, fuming. "The bastards. Thinking they can control my land. Well, I'll show them! They can't force me to sacrifice the heir to the Atlantean throne. It's nonsense."
Gayle went on in his rant, but Aliya wasn't listening. Why did they want Gaylen killed? She stood abruptly, interrupting her father. She looked him in the eye which was quite easy; her 5'3" frame was tall for a female faery. She was her father's exact height.
She walked around him, ignoring his sputtering. She needed to find out more, and the place to go was the temple.
The temple was on the hill opposite the house, and the path there was long, twisting, and secluded. It was thin, with room for only single file, and surrounded by dense foliage. Usually Aliya enjoyed the walk to the temple, but today she was too deep in thought.
She knew why the humans were demanding such a sacrifice; Gaylen was her father's only son, and with him dead, one of his daughters would take the faery throne. The humans were counting on her to be a weak leader, one they could easily take Atlantis from.
But Aliya doubted Gayle would give in; he hated the humans as it was, and this sacrifice was too high of a demand. She scrunched up her brow; why did they get to choose the sacrifice anyway?
By now she had reached the temple. It was seemingly a small building, above ground, but there were extensive tunnels and catacombs underneath. She entered through the only entrance there was to the temple, or well, the only one the public knew about. There were all sorts of secret passages in and out that she had found playing there as a child.
Upon entering she expected to be greeted by one of the acolytes, a priest or priestess in training, but there was no one there. She padded down the hall, glancing back and forth. There was no one around.
Puzzled, Aliya shrugged and sped up. Her sandaled feet took her to a stone door, which opened when Aliya pressed her ring against a small indentation on the wall by the door. It revealed a set of stone stairs which Aliya walked down. She made her way through a maze of twists and turns without ever faltering.
Her path led her to another door. This one was larger, and covered in carvings. Aliya again pressed her ring into an indentation that was identical to the previous one. However, this door opened onto a huge underground room, filled to the brim with shelves upon shelves of books and scrolls. This was where Aliya expected to find the information she needed, and this was where she found all of the priests and priestesses.
Of course they were here, trying to figure out the same thing she wanted to know: could the humans really demand the sacrifice of a prince? What had made her think they wouldn't have thought of it already? She hadn't thought, that's what.
In the bustle, no one noticed her, and Aliya searched the room until she caught sight of the High Priest of the Sun. He was thumbing through an ancient tome, bent over one of the tables. Two acolytes stood on either side of him, at respectful distances of five feet away, waiting for him to direct them. She rushed over to him:
"Torin!"
He looked up, and gave Aliya a wan smile that soon melted off his face as he remembered the task at hand.
"What is it Little One?"
She frowned slightly at how he had addressed her, but brushed it off in face of the trouble they were all in.
"How can they do this?"
Torin sighed, "That's what we're trying to figure out. This book," he gestured to the one he had been reading when Aliya had interrupted him, "It tells the history of the sacrifice, but so far hasn't been any help in telling if they can or can't have us kill our crowned prince."
Aliya bit her lip, "Can I look through it?"
"Be my guest. I've got piles of others I need to go through," Torin passed the book to Aliya and left, trailing his two acolytes behind him.
The book was heavy, so, clutching it to her chest, Aliya searched the antechambers until she found a small room that contained only one small table, four chairs, and no people. It was dark, and Aliya had to fumble around for a few moments before she found the torch and managed to light it. She took the seat underneath it, and placed the book in front of her.
The cover was old faded black leather, with the words "The Sacrifice" embossed in scratched silver lettering. She flipped it open, to the first page with words on it, and began to read:

When the faeries fell to the humans, the humans had the choice: let the faeries live or let the faeries die. The Queen of the faeries, Tylecia, would not bow down to the King of the humans, Arthur, choosing death over servitude. With this choice came the death of her people, and the end of the faery race.
But Arthur took pity of the faeries, even their stubborn queen. He granted them clemency, and allowed them to live. He even allowed them to keep their land, the fertile island of Atlantis. His councils were against this idea, claiming that Atlantis was too rich and beautiful a treasure to give up, and Arthur grew unsure. When the council asked him why he cared so much about the faylinn, he had no answer, and they almost had him convinced that the faery race should die. But it was at this point the great and wise Merlin revealed himself, claiming the reason to be Arthur's blood. Standing in front of King Arthur's court he told them the story of Arthur's birth:
Arthur had been born of King Uther and the faery Igraine. He was half faery, but this was not all. Merlin brought forth Morgaine, Arthur's older sister, and displayed her to the court. He pointed out her height, 4'8", and the shape of her face and eyes. He showed the court the smallness of her limbs and litheness of her step.
When he was done he asked the court if they knew why he was doing this. No one did. He turned to Morgaine and whispered in her ear. She nodded, and Merlin stepped back.
Morgaine drew back her cloak, and spoke a few words in a strange language. The court drew back, but Morgaine merely smiled serenely and continued her magic. The room began to glow in multitudes of color, and in the middle of the round table the air began to circle and spin until finally there was a swirling vortex in the room.
With another word the vortex began to glow white, bright white, so bright that everyone in the room had to avert their eyes. Merlin placed his hand on Morgaine's shoulder, and the magic disappeared. It was then Merlin announced that Morgaine was the daughter of the faery Igraine and the faery King that had preceded Tylecia.
Do you want to kill her people? He asked them. Do you want to kill your people? He asked Arthur. When he saw that Arthur was confused, he reminded him of the magic Morgaine had wrought.
He told them that her magic had more usages than mere light shows. He told her that this magic, this faery magic, could be utilized in medicine, in war, in changing the weather to favor his country.
Arthur then knew that he would save these people, if not for his sake, if not for his sister's sake, for the sake of his people. They could use that magic to save them from plagues and drought and invasions.
He stood and announced his decision to the council, and then dismissed them. Drawing Merlin aside, he asked him how he could get this magic for his people. It was then that Merlin told him of the Sacrifice.

As her eyes were about to skim to the next paragraph, Aliya heard the door creak open and she sat up. There, backing into the room, was a small faery, small even for their standards. She was dressed in the dark green robes of an acolyte, and as she turned Aliya shrunk back into the darkened corner.
She watched the girl closely. Now that she had turned and straightened, Aliya judged her height to be a little over four feet tall. Her curly brown hair was hidden by her cowl, as was her face, but thinking she was alone in the room, the girl pulled it down, revealing waist-length brown curls and huge brown eyes.
Her face was small and her chin was pointed, and by no way was she beautiful, but she was pretty in a homely sort of way. She glided over to the wall, which was covered in magic tools and removed a mortar and pestle, and various herbs.
Aliya watched as she tore them up and placed them into the mortar. When she was done with that she reached a hand into her robes and pulled out a flask. She overturned it into the mortar, and sparkling drops of blessed water flowed into the mixture. With the pestle she ground it up until she had blended it to satisfaction. Turning she found a crystal carafe on the shelf and poured the bright green liquid into it.
Aliya could no longer contain her curiosity.
"What is that?" she asked as she emerged from the shadows.
The girl screamed, and dropped the bottle. It shattered, and the liquid spread across the table, and began to burn through it.