"What do you mean they've literally got iron in their veins!?"

The glass clunked on the countertop, as the aliens stared at each other, four bewildered eyes meeting the two annoyed ones hanging from the antennae.

"Yeah, they do. But, Keet, try to keep up with me, that's not even the weirdest thing! Actually-"

"Actually," she interrupted, "I'm not gonna listen to anything you say until you prove humans have fucking iron in their blood. Prove it to me, Weyef!"

Weyef let out a long tired sigh and put their glass down as well. Why is it when they get drunk, it always ends up with some chaotic inerplanetary side-quest?

"Alright then, let's go to the Earth and settle this."

They slided from their chair, as Keet all but jumped. Weyef felt heavy and unsteady and so unlike their lanky frame, loosing any sense of their own shape, all the limbs stumbling over each other. They glanced at Keet, already way ahead of them down a corridor. At this point she could bounce off the walls and Weyef wouldn't be surprized. Keet, feeling the gaze, turned to face them.

"Wow, you are not driving. The last time you were this drunk we ended up stuck in a void for days," she chuckled.

"Fine, but can we do it without abduction? No need to traumatize one more sentient being for our curiosity."

"We could take those we already traumatized," Keet shrugged and smirked, waiting for response, but only got another annoyed glare. "Do you have a better idea, then?"

"Yes, honestly, any idea could be better than this. We can just disguise as humans and rob a hospital. Or pick a fight in some bar, as humans seem to do that. Anything, really, but turning traumatized humans into double-traumatized humans."

Keet hummed in response. Her pace got slower so it would be easier for Weyef to keep up.

"I hate human disguises," she mumbled finally, "they mess with my eyes. A bar fight sounds good, though."

"You become a bastard when you're drunk," Weyef teased.

"Well, you are a bastard even when you're sober," Keet fended off, as they both struggled not to burst out laughing in the dimly lit corridor of the sleeping station.

Two absolutely ordinary humans went down the street. One, tall and slender, sipped beer from a bottle lazily. The other, average in height and stiff in their bulky frame, gazed warily at others. If someone was to look closer, they would sense something was off about this couple, but to all the people on the streets they were just a couple of normal human beings, going out on a friday night.

They rolled into the bar, already tipsy, and thudded onto the bar chairs. They downed a few more drinks, as they kept arguing in hushed voices.

Matt didn't even pay much attention to them until the weird things started happening. The duo seemed to make it their goal to annoy as many people as possible. They kept searching coflict, they kept starting conversations with insults (why third of those were bad and obviously improvised 'yo mama' jokes, he couldn't understand), they kept trying to make someone stumble and spill their drinks, but did that so poorly no drinks were spilt. The people, drunken and glad the work for the week was over, waved them off or ignored them politely. Still, the atmosphere in the bar was getting rather glum with the frazzling presence of two strangers, so Matt decided to step in.

"Hello," he put on the most polite smile he could manage, "why do you keep annoying people? We are all here to have a good time, so why do you look for trouble?"

The strangers looked surprized for a second. Then they exchanged looks with each other, and the sturdier one beamed, as the lanky one just looked tired.

"We do as we please," the first one retorted. "And if you think you can bring us some trouble, why don't you try? Or are you only good in talking?"

Yeah, that was... something. Matt expected that kind of answer, but what to do now? The three of them were already a center of attention of at least half the bar. And this didn't help either, cause Matt's ability to come up with things to say dwindled with every couple of eyes staring at him.

"Why don't we go outside?" he offered.

"To fight?" the bulky one grinned, and even the tall one besides them seemed interested.

"No," Matt answered, "to talk. Just to talk. I'm sure we can settle this in a civilized manner."

The couple looked at each other again, and they seemed to have a whole minute of a meaningful conversation carried only by their expressions. Then they turned to Matt and nodded.

The cool night air hit Matt's face. But when he turned to the stangers something much heavier hit him. His nose pulsed with pain and he could feel the warmth of blood running down his lips and chin. When he finally managed to open his eyes, he could see one of the strangers still holding his hands folded into fists, and the other one, wide-eyed, standing nearby. Matt tensed as they crouched by him (since when was he on the ground?), but they only wiped the blood from his chin and started running away.

He probably should have asked for help or call the ambulance, but his mild-concussion-ridden brain decided it's crucial to know what exactly happened. So he got up and followed them.

As he got closer to the slow and clunky runaways, their words started to reach his ears. Those were some odd words.

"Was that really neccessary?" Weyef questioned in between huffs, as they retreated to the park, dark and emty and a perfect spot to hide their ship.

"Hey," Keet wheezed, "it was your idea to start a fight, so don't you dare blame me!"

"We later agreed we would provoke someone to fight, not just hit humans!"

"Well, provocations clearly didn't work! We got some blood anyway, does it matter how we did it?"

They kept bickering until they reached their ship, taking off their disguises so the ship's security system could recognise them. But the sound of leaves rustling under feet didn't stop. They turned their heads only to see the very man they attacked not so long before aproaching them. Weyef gave Keet another annoyed look. It was too late to put the disguises back on.

The man stopped and stared at them as they stared back. Then he came a bit closer.

"That's a really bad concussion," he admitted, sitting on the ground. The creatures before him looked at each other.

"That's right," the tall multilegged one said, nodding with their eyes on the tips of antenae, "we are just your hallucination."

"I don't know about you, Weyef," the four-eyed gremlin argued, "but I am very real."

The first one (Weyef was their name?) shot the other one another glare.

"We are aliens," The gremlin continued, much to Weyef's annoyance, " I'm Keet from the star system you humans call Gliese 667. Nice to meet you."

Matt stared for a while. Then he, probably, thought it would be polite to at least smile.

"What's with daddy-long-legs?" he asked, nodding to where Weyef was sill being grumpy.

"Do I look like-" the alien protested as Matt stiffled his laugh.

"No, that's not what I... Nevermind. And why do you even need my blood?"

"That's Weyef and they are annoyed their plan actually worked. We need human blood to settle an argument."

"Isn't there a better way to get blood, though?"

A jubilant look made it's way onto Weyef's face.

"Couldn't you just abduct someone while they are asleep?"

Weyf's jubilant look melted into a scowl, as Keet smirked.

"What kind of argument involves human blood anyway?"

"Keet," Weyef said, putting their limb on her head, "doesn't believe that humans have iron in their blood."

They petted Keet's head as she battered their limb away. Matt scowled. This was an idiotic argument. But he, a certified expert at being human, didn't know the answer. He failed his biology class way too many times, after all.

"We have what in our blood?!"

If you're wondering, Ferrum is literally the Latin name for Iron. Though it's not a bad name for an alien species either!

______

"What do you MEAN they've literally got iron in their veins!?"

“Yeah the Ferrum literally have melted iron in their veins... hence why we call them Ferrum” explains Smithsky, another soldier in the Tactical Task Unit.

Mule couldn't believe his ears. It was bad enough they were being deployed to the outskirts of The Milky Way on a classified mission without being briefed properly, now the enemy have fuelled by melted iron? The job was getting more ridiculous every passing second.

“That's right kiddies” confirmed Captain Vontec “You don't want to be in the splash zone when those things start bleeding, it will burn through your body armour and bones”.

While Mule knew the Ferrum were best to be avoided, he just assumed it was down to their bad tempers. Plus their size, intelligence, unwillingness to attempt communication, strength... there's a lot of reasons to avoid them. Usually, humans did and there were no problems.

The Ferrum seemed to hate humans being anywhere near their solar systems so there was a tentative peace as long as humans kept their distance. Ferrum have never spoken with humans except to tell them to leave and chase them away. Speaking to us in perfect English during those times but always swapping back to their own strange clicking afterwards. After multiple missions into their territory and even killing some of them, the Ferrum just chased humans away and didn't bother to pursue us outside of their systems. Most humans hated the idea of bothering them.

Naturally, some big time company thought it was a good idea to mine an asterroid that goes through Ferrum space. And now that mining station hasn't been heard from for over two weeks since it entered a distant Ferrum system on the fringe of their space.

Rumours about a mission to retrieve the crew have been circulating for some time. Missions into Ferrum space are highly classified to ensure the public never hears about them. Considering their squad hadn't even been briefed properly yet, Mule and the rest of the squad assumed that's where they were heading.

As long as you don't bother the Ferrum, they don't bother you. Hopefully, the Ferrum just give back the crew from the mining station and claim the station as their own in compensation.

My first prompt response, hope it's alright! I just wrote stream-of-consciousness as it came to me, so sorry if it's a bit disjointed.

The sylph’s golden goblet clattered several feet to the council room floor, spilling its glowing amber contents. He surged to his feet, grand monarch’s wings fluttering madly. “This is preposterous. We’ve never encountered this before. You’re lying.”

The salamander shrugged, huffing out a cloud of black smoke. “Much as I dislike agreeing with a sylph, Lord Parthis has a point. No fey has encountered this in our many, many years. How would they only now develop iron in their blood?”

“I never thought I would agree with Sindrus,” the naiad laughed, swirling the bubbling beverage she held in an extravagant champagne flute.

Tallian ran a hand through his hair with a frustrated sigh. Of course the council wouldn’t listen to a simple elf. Emperor Sindrus glared down, his eyes alone nearly lighting Tallian’s tunic on fire, while Lord Parthis looked anywhere but into the center of the hostile council. Queen Ylia only had eyes for her bubbly, seemingly disinterested. Tallian then turned to the silent monolith that was the feared, famed Tyrant Gorr.

“Have you an opinion as well, Tyrant? Any other doubts to throw my way?” Tallian asked, unable to keep the bite out of his words.

The rock troll grumbled and stretched out his long, stony limbs. Then, at length, said, “No.”

Sindrus blinked slowly. “What do you mean, ‘no?’”

“I believe him.”

Tallian couldn’t hold back his sputter of surprise. Of all people, Gorr believed him?

“Then you’ve lost your mind as well,” Parthis scoffed, crossing his arms. His gilded silver plate armor reflected the cascading sunlight the poured in through the center skylight, at least fifty feet above.

“Go on, Gorr. Explain your thinking.” Ylia gestured with her glass, then took a long sip. She was dressed in blue, green and white silks and platinum jewelry over her deep cerulean skin. “This should be good.”

Gorr rumbled out a sigh. He wasn’t one for speech- it was rumored that it genuinely pained him, due to some injury from the Planar Wars. He was the oldest of the council, a patron of the Unseelie Court alongside Ylia. When he did speak, it shook the room, like the movements of tectonic plates.

“It has been eons since any of us has stepped foot into the mortal world. When was the last time any of you fought a human?”

There was silence.

“My point exactly,” Gorr nodded, settling back into his great granite throne with the grinding of stone on stone. His vibrant bloodstone eyes finally opened, casting a glance around at his other councilmembers. “With rising tensions at the planar gates, Tallian has firsthand experience.”

Finally, every pair of eyes landed on Tallian. He gulped and nodded. “Pure cold iron it is not, but the blood of humans burns us. We cannot withstand it for long. If it remains on the skin for more than some short minutes, it can deal lasting damage, even burn through flesh.”

“Do you come with proof?” Parthis asked, slowly settling back into his marble seat.

“I don’t bear the injuries myself, but many compatriots of mine have the scars. A good friend of mine, a dryad by the name of Crimsa, is in intensive care.”

At that, Parthis’s eyes bulged. “One of mine?!”

“Yes, sir.” Ah, so now he cared. Parthis was a relatively young sylph, heavily protective of those in his rings of the Seelie Court.

“How did this occur?” Sindrus interrupted before Parthis could start an uproar.

“Some human mages have developed magic to harness their blood into projectiles. Along with developing more cold iron weaponry,” Tallian paused to breathe deep and wipe a bead of sweat from his brow, “I believe they are preparing to mount an assault on the planar gate and invade Faerie.”

Every councilmember except Gorr exploded into noise and movement. Parthis was up and marching for the door, while Sindrus perched on his basalt throne, his long tail coiling around the stone arm. Ylia was standing on the arm of her coral lounging chair, sending off small messengers of water that flitted off through windows.

Tallian wrung his hands as his leadership descended into chaos, until his gaze met Gorr’s scarlet eyes. Despite the din of three shouting fey, Tallian could hear the old troll’s words as clear as day.

“To whom’s court do you belong?” Gorr rumbled, leaning forward and supporting his weight with his great stone knuckles.

“I belong to the Autumn ring of the Unseelie Court, Tyrant,” Tallian replied.

Gorr nodded slowly, then stood. The grinding of his joints and the loud grunt he released as he rose to his full height silenced the clamor of the room.

“What is it, Gorr?” Parthis asked, one hand on the doorframe and one foot in the portal.

“This one is one of mine. Thus, I have vested interest As do we all when it comes to war in Faerie.” Gorr walked toward Parthis on his hulking fists like a massive stone gorilla, each step shaking the very ground Tallian stood upon. “I would like to request that we meet with our armies and form a coalition between the courts. At least, until we dispel the humans at our gate.”Gorr descended into earthshaking coughs, one fist pressed to his chest.

When the Tyrant’s breathing steadied, Sindrus spoke up. “Gorr speaks the truth. We should prepare for war.”

Ylia nodded, a trail of water dancing between her fingers, and looked to Parthis. The sylph looked repulsed.

“Allying with the Unseelie? Never.” Parthis shook his head fervently.

Gorr sighed and took one long stride closer, looming over Parthis. “The last time the Seelie and Unseelie allied was the Planar War. We only survived because of a united strike between Summer and Autumn. You, young pup, were not around to see it, but if you bothered to read up on strategy, instead of playing sycophant with your brothers, you would learn something.” The rock troll turned to Sindrus. “What say you, old friend?”

The salamander nodded and opened his glowing maw to speak, but was cut off as a forest troll bounded into the room.

“We’re under attack,” the troll said between gasps, “and humans have passed through the Planar Gate.”

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