“Lord Myrion Sand is dead, his wine poisoned while dining with his wife. We cannot be sure who is responsible but I fear that Lady Morgana had something to do with his death. She is dangerous and I am sure she seeks to ascend the throne herself. This would not be good for the Great Temple, she has shown herself to be our enemy long before she rose to power.”
Dorian Firo, Scholar to The Great Temple in Eltera, 255 KR
“Where is my daughter!” the fae woman hisses in my ear. She holds the dagger tightly against my throat, to the point where I find myself holding my breath, not wanting to risk contact with the blade.
“I do not know,” I answer, my voice rasping and constrained.
“LIAR!” she cries as she continues to press the dagger against my skin. “Now tell me what this is and why it carries the essence of Aruya?”
“I don’t know!” I repeat. “All I can offer is the circumstances that we came to be in possession of that elixir.”
There is anger and hatred in the fae’s eyes, one that draws on pain and worry.
“I was in the nearby woodlands, between the Forest of Opiya and Eltera,” I tell her carefully. “Our party was making our way here when we crossed paths with some guards who sought to capture us. One of them drank this elixir, and it changed them, enraged them. The elixir enabled him to cast storm magic.”
“Silence,” the fae demands. “I know your race, I know all too well the lies and tales that humans will spin to achieve their own agenda.”
“I am telling you the truth. Please, I seek only to find answers to the questions that I myself have. I carry magic in me, I bear the markings of a spellcaster. See for yourself.” I direct her gaze to my arm which is still bound above me. The fae woman glances up at my corrupted wound. “Except I fear that I may have overused my magic of late, the burden of which my body can no longer carry.”
“Your body is breaking due to the strain of magic, a sign that those not born of the forest do not understand the powers that you wield. The first elves were the same, born from a relationship between fae and humans.”
“I only aim to help others in need. I do not know what has happened to your daughter but if you will allow it, I would help you get the answers that you seek.”
The fae paces away from me before turning, her eyes clenched tightly shut as she roars out in anger. She swings the blade towards me and I close my eyes, embracing the impending strike that will surely end me. I pray quickly to the gods that Laith and the others will remain safe.
There is a thud and I find myself slamming to the ground like dead weight. As my arms land in front of me, I realise my bindings have been cut. A shooting pain travels up my corrupted arm in waves of pulsating agony as my blood begins to recirculate.
“Thank you,” I manage to muster through the pain, although I struggle to bring myself to my feet, having been dragged all the way here. Remaining on the floor, I take some deep gasps of air as I breathe in a sigh of relief.
“Fool me, spellcaster, and I will see to it that not only your life ends, but all of those that are camped on the outskirts of our forest. The gods may will them to be here, but you will meet the full wrath of a queen if you cross me.” She stands in front of me, her curved blade still pointed in my direction.
“Please, my name is Jordell. In my lands I am known as a mage – a wizard. I only cast magic that will help or heal others,” I explain, my arms trembling as I force myself into an upright position. With one last rugged heave, I manage to get myself standing upright. The queen is at least a foot taller than me.
She nods, as if accepting my words. “My daughter’s magic is somehow in this.” The queen raises the blackened elixir in front of her face. “My daughter was taken at the outer edges of the forest. I told her not to go but with faerie wells being raided, she insisted on going to help and find out more information. When she did not return, our greatest fears were realised. Our kind is being taken away from the forest. Our scouts have fed back that they are being kept in one of your fortresses. The one called Askela.”
“Morgana,” I breathe. “She is the one responsible for the taking of your people. I have been in conflict with her myself for years past.”
“That does not answer my question of how my daughter’s essence has come to be in this potion that you have brought me.” She sniffs it again as though smelling the essence reminds her of her daughter, but then her face changes to one of fear. “I must know what has happened, I must find out what this Morgana has done.”
I look around at the vast kingdom at her disposal, the bird riders she has, the number of warriors she must command. “If you know where they take your people, why do you not storm Askela and take them back?” I ask.
“We cannot leave this place. Our magic is tied to this forest, to the trees. It is our life source, our essence. To leave would render us weakened and lead us to certain death. I cannot threaten the existence of my race no matter how strong the temptation to save the lives of a few. No matter what the price is to myself.”
“Let me help you. Let me and my friends travel to Askela in your stead. All I ask in return is that no more blood is shed of my friends’ camp. I would also ask for your help or guidance on something I am searching for.”
The queen thinks on this for a moment “If you bring my daughter back, I will remove that corruption from your arm.”
“This corruption, can it happen to those injured by your magic?”
“Yes,” she says, slowly, untrusting eyes raking over my skin. “Corruption can taint any person touched by magic, whether casting it or being hit by it. If the corruption travels far enough through the veins, it will likely bring about their end.”
My fears are confirmed, then. Laith’s life is in danger as well, should the corruption that seeps into him continue to grow. My search for the sword must wait. For now, I must help Laith, and quickly. If I can help return her people, there is still a chance that he can survive his wound. Then we will not only have gained the fae as an ally, but I will be able to rid us both from the corruption.
“Your majesty, I will do what I can to help you.”
“My name is Zariah. If you bring back my people, I will owe you a great debt. There is something different about you, Jordell. You do not seem like the other humans that I have met before you. They prowl this kingdom in search of treasures and wealth, whereas I believe you to be speaking the truth. Why else would the healing magic you possess course through your veins? It is as the gods will it.”
Zariah looks up towards the tops of the trees that stretch high as though they attempt to reach the gods themselves. She raises her hand gently in the air as spores from the trees land on her, and she examines it before absorbing them into her skin. I can’t help but feel that she draws her own magic this way, like a form of osmosis. It is a spectacle to behold.
“You hold a rare magic indeed, but your human form is too fragile to maintain it. The elves, on the other hand, knew their limitations and would not allow their magic to break them. That said, if you carry magic then you are a descendant of this forest, as elves were formed of a bond between fae and humans. Your kind were formed from the bonding between humans and elves. In each descendant, the magic is a diluted version of our own power, unable to draw on the energy of the Great Tree, instead drawing on the power within your own life force.”
I think I understand to what she is alluding, although my mind aches, part from the information Zariah has imparted on me, part from the blow to the head I have taken. I have so many questions that I want to ask but the most pressing matter is that of gaining Queen Zariah’s trust. Of finding where the fae are being kept in Askela and returning them to her.
“Please hold onto my affects until I return, and mark my words, I will return. There is a Great War coming to Levanthria and we need to be prepared as best as we can.”
“I care not for the wars that you people wage upon yourselves. I care only for my people and my daughter. Beware of the price you will pay if you do not return with Aruya.” With this, the queen turns to make her leave, flicking her hand above her shoulder. “See our guest is returned to where you found him.”