Chapter Nineteen #2
A happy omega child blinded by accident.
Warring Stellanova, blinded as a child by a simple star charm for the coven’s annual welcoming of the constellation of their coven.
A simple spell that somehow went wrong, with no explanation as to how, or why it only affected one child.
Cade Greymorning, a half blood with a human mother, who was blessed by magic and mistreated by an awful stepfather in small but meaningful and constant ways.
Leon Oaken, born with an unfortunate birthmark and parents that were given magical incentives to overlook their son.
Constant neglect and favoritism of other siblings.
Mads of Blue Dawn, who raised himself by all rights, a feral child who had no love of animals, for in his heart, he was one.
And then there were omegas, so few that were cast away, who were sold to mages on whispers of fortunes, promising healing and help to their packs and flocks.
Omega dragons that mages have kept harnessed and hidden, siphoning their inherent magic.
Perhaps that was why mages feared dragons so much.
Their power was similar. A theory as of yet unexplored, the union of human and dragon to see if it could make a mage.
To see if mage and dragon… What they could produce.
Marquis shuddered. Mages generations before him had tried to wipe dragons from the earth by destroying their lore, burning their medicines to the ground, causing plants to become extinct as extraordinary measures to drive species to extinction.
As the letter had gone on, the pen left bolder lines, ink soaking the page as the pen left heavy indentations, the writing more frantic and that of a madwoman inundated by a hate and desperation that she’d never shown Marquis.
Or that he’d been too distracted to notice.
Or madness brought about from secret thoughts she harbored, knowing their wrongness but uninhibited by whatever Baron had done to her.
The gist was… They had captive omega shifters. They had manufactured familiars made in terrible circumstances. And Baron had died with nobody knowing where they were hidden.
Marquis folded the papers and took a deep breath. “Nelson. The magi have their first task. As ombudsmen to the human underworld, we must find any and all of the familiars that Baron bartered.”
Nelson nodded. “We have put word out. That’s why they brought Haze.”
Marquis stared at Nelson’s ring, what he’d asked to keep in lieu of a wand. He drummed his fingers and reached over to trace their tips over the letter. Marquis didn’t stop him as he pulled the letter away. “He seemed to take a shine to Tack.”
“Poor lad.” Nelson shook his head with a sigh.
“The omega lost his ability to speak. He went through a lot. A child he didn’t want…” Marquis flinched as Nelson opened the letter.
“Oh, that goes without saying. I spoke of Tack, though. They have this human drug, they say, that makes one’s manhood stand for the occasion, so to speak.
And the warning is that if one were to stay on their feet for more than four hours, they should visit a doctor.
” Nelson’s aged eyes crinkled as they lazily traced the words on the page.
Marquis blanched, mind momentarily torn from the letter.
“Indeed. I’ve never had it occur to myself, though I admit, in my age, I’ve needed the drug a time or six.” Nelson’s gaze hovered and moved once more. “Point being, it is fortunate that mages have good stamina. And even so, I’d suggest someone check in on the boy and make sure he stays hydrated.”
Marquis raised a brow, both brows, lips pursed. “Was he in heat at some point?”
Nelson shook his head. “Merely insatiable, I’ve been told. I was also informed it was rude to ask. I merely wanted to know if I should be on the lookout for a new property for RedSky. They’re outgrowing the hotel, and another child or pup may necessitate that move sooner than later.”
Marquis nodded. “They deserve better, but it’s what Rexford needed. Things are changing, but I fear that the coven may split soon. It’s time that Izohr and Leon take a coven. He should take Tack and Haze with him. I see a need for a mixed coven soon.”
“They won’t like that. They love Rexford.” Nelson sighed and flipped a page over, lips pursed judgmentally.
“And there are empty covens with land to spare and a covenmaster, an alpha with an omega mate, half wolf himself, fathering a child he gave his own spirit to. It is his duty to move on for the good of others. They will understand in time. We have very long lives. It is a long time to forget, to love again, to reunite. Our lives are as long as the trees we bind our wands to, and longer still if we have yet more to do. If my wand should die and I need another, if another tree wills it, I will share life again. And sometimes, our magic runs out. No tree will share with us, for the bond of wand and mage makes a tree live longer, stretch higher to the sky, and whether that is true or not is secondary to the fact that when a mage’s wand tree dies and they cannot find another, we know our days run slim.
” Marquis pulled his wand out and stared at it.
“So, when we must move on, we do so. Magic will always cross paths. Rexford’s and Izohr’s wand trees are close together.
They’ll find one another again in one way, I’m sure. ”
Nelson folded the papers and nodded sagely. “Doris wasn’t well by the end of it, was she?”
Marquis shook his head. “I put off reading it for a long time. In the end, it was nothing more than the final ramblings of a madwoman.”
“Still. It’s rather fucked up.” Nelson shook his head with a soft sigh.
“It is. But her wand tree died years ago. She never said anything, but part of me knew. I see the death of old trees in this world more now than ever.” Marquis blinked and rubbed at one of his eyes as if brushing away errant sawdust.
“Pardon, but why do mages not plant trees symbolically? As part of the birth of a mageling? Plant a tree and harvest a wand from it?” Nelson tilted his ring back and forth as he stared at it.
“The Arborae covens have tree-planting festivals. But, because mages believe that destroying one’s wand tree can harm a mage, we keep it secret out of tradition. But I like that. It’s not deadly, but it is an inconvenience.” Marquis frowned. “What should we plant for our little girl, you think?”
“If it were me? I’d buy deforested land and plant a forest. I’d plant old growth and tend them, so by the time she has children, they’re taller than houses and the start of memories and end of stories.” Nelson covered his ring with his hand. The initials on it weren’t his own, likely his son’s.
“We bury what is left of our mages at the feet of trees. Would you like to be put to rest with honors among our kind?” Marquis took the letter back.
“Can my son’s urn be placed with me? And will Meredith be buried with the mages, too?” Nelson spoke the words with a little edge that hadn’t been there before.
“If anyone has earned that honor, it’s her and you. And we do not ask a man go anywhere his own children are not welcome.” Marquis liked the idea, though, an entire forest, a new wave of mages. Perhaps along a river where those trees could give beautiful driftwood to come.