Okay, this started out when I was trying to write a story for Patreon (Legends and Myths, Fae Apoc) and sort of failed, but I had this idea about the Council (the ruling body of the “Good Guys” fae, the Shenera Enderaei, the Children of the Law), inherently having no authority to do what they do.  And since I’ve played with the idea of Cloverleaf/Boom/Cya facing down the Council before…

This is set some long time after the founding of Cloverleaf, and is non-canon.

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“We are here to see how well you are abiding by the regulations of the Council.  Your position as a pro facto dictator here raises a red flag in our books, and we will be here until we have passed judgement or removed you from power.”

Cya looked at the people in front of her.  She looked at the woman standing to her left.  “This is a ‘Man on the Moon’ situation,” she told the woman.

The woman nodded and vanished.  Cya smiled.  The expression was small, polite, restrained.  People who knew her the best — and only them — knew that it meant she was absolutely furious.

The space of three heartbeats passed.  “I do not acknowledge your authority to judge me,” she told the people calmly.

“The Council—”

“I do not recognize the Council’s authority.  They do not speak for the Law.  They do not speak for the Shenera Enderaei.  They speak only for themselves, and, as such, they have no authority over the sovereign nation of Cloverleaf nor over my person.  They failed to protect us during the End Times War.  They failed to stand against those who actually stood as gods in defiance of the edits — if not the laws — of the departed gods.  They mean nothing to me.  And as for you, I did not invite you into my city, and thus you are invaders.  Leave now.  Leave now and things will go calmly.”

The spokesperson glared at her.  “You cannot ‘not recognize the Council’s authority!’ The Council is the Authority over the Shenera Enderaei!”

“The Gods nor the Law put them there; they put themselves there. They rule by consent, and I choose to no longer consent.  Get out of my my city, or I am going to have you removed, and I do not think you or the Council will enjoy that.”

She was a half-breed of barely a century of age.  She stood and stared down these older pure-bloods as if they were nothing but annoying invaders.

And the Council’s representatives had no idea what to say.

“You cannot-”

“I am doing so, thus I can.”

“The Law-”

“Says nothing at all about the Council.  I follow the Law.  We all follow the Law.  But the Law does not say do not rule a country.  It does not say follow the whims of your elders.  It doesn’t even suggest that half-breeds are lesser than the pure-bloods, and look how much energy we’ve wasted on that ridiculous myth.  Almost as much as the Nedetakaei.”

“The world will hear of your rebellion!”

And now, Cya smiled broadly. “They already have.”

In seven locations across the globe, her representatives were already playing a video recording of her defiance to seven chosen groups of people.  In ninety-three other locations, her teleporter had already delivered a transcript of the same words.

By the time the day was over, every location with a known Shenera Endera would have a copy of her words, of her rebellion.

The representatives of the Council realized a portion of what the vanishing woman next to her must have meant, and to a one, they blanched.

“You can’t really mean to start a war.”

“A war,” Cya informed them, “is two forces or more fighting against each other.  This, on the other hand… This is a coup.”