Chapter Forty-Two
Once, long ago, before the Great War cleaved the world apart, most kingdoms wrestled with the delicate art of secrecy, their truths half-hidden yet still known, if only in whispers, beyond their borders.
Knowledge, though sometimes guarded, flowed like a slow river between lands, meandering from court to court, kingdom to kingdom.
But the war changed everything.
In its wake, the realms turned inward. Walls went up, both seen and unseen. Suspicion took root where curiosity had once bloomed. The bridges of knowledge and shared custom crumbled, and with time, even memory began to erode.
What once had been known; what neighbouring kingdoms ate, what gods they prayed to, what songs they sang beneath moonlight, faded into silence. Traditions were forgotten, festivals unrecognised, and old allies became enigmas.
Soon, all that remained was distance.
And mystery.
And the quiet, creeping sense that everyone beyond one's own border was either a stranger… or an enemy.
Tabitha Wysteria
Kage had been quite certain that death had finally come to claim him, had come to return him to his sister’s embrace.
And truth be told, he had not minded the thought in the slightest. Mal and Kai would have each other, and he…
he would be with Haven. The thought of her enduring solitude had always gnawed at him.
Yet it seemed the reaper had no intention of embracing him just yet.
A sudden jerk at his arm jolted him back to the realm of the living.
His eyes, dark as midnight wells flew open, and there, to his astonishment, was a figure clutching him, anchoring him to life.
He was hauled upwards, dragged back onto the wooden platform, gasping as he sat upright, blinking in dazed confusion.
The girl before him was otherworldly in her beauty.
Her skin was dark and her hair, a cropped cascade of dreadlocks, barely grazed her shoulders.
She looked no older than nineteen, and though her frame was slender, Kage recognised the sinewy grace of strength.
He knew well that power needn’t roar, it could whisper through taut muscle and steady hands.
She crouched before him, green eyes not quite meeting his. Instead, her gaze seemed fixed on something near him. Close, yet not quite him.
‘You ought to be more careful,’ she muttered, the words lilting like a breeze over a blade, as she idly turned a sharp dagger between her fingers.
Kage’s eyes flicked upward, noting the small antlers nestled in her hair. Modest in height, their size betraying her youth.
A sudden blast of green magic shrieked through the air, hurtling straight for the girl.
With no sign of alarm, she raised her arm in defence.
Kage’s eyes caught the glint of the vambraces she wore, crafted from elbow to wrist, and the moment the witch’s spell collided with them, the leather flared with a golden shimmer.
The shield didn’t merely deflect the magic, it absorbed it entirely.
But before Kage could further study the marvel, the girl had already turned in one fluid motion and sent her dagger flying.
It struck its mark with a merciless thud, buried deep in the witch’s forehead.
Kage said nothing as the body crumpled to the ground, lifeless and soundless.
‘Rio!’ a voice cried out from behind.
The girl exhaled, clearly exasperated, and rose just as a small party of Fae appeared, Arden striding at their head. He rushed to Kage’s side, gripping his arm to help him upright.
‘Are you hurt?’ he asked.
Kage shook his head, still breathless. Then Arden’s attention snapped to the girl.
He paused for a moment, his expression softening with something between awe and reverence.
He stepped forward, took her hand gently, pressed a kiss to her knuckles, and then laid her fingers against his brow.
Kage recognised the gesture from his readings.
A sacred Fae custom, the highest form of respect: a kiss of loyalty followed by a mark of honour upon one’s own forehead.
Arden turned and gave Kage a look. ‘Introduce yourself.’
‘Why?’ Kage muttered.
‘Don’t be rude,’ Arden mumbled playfully beneath his breath.
The girl—Rio—paid them no attention whatsoever.
‘Have all the witches been dealt with?’ she asked, her tone sharp as a drawn blade.
‘Yes, your highness,’ one of the Fae soldiers replied with a bow.
Kage took a moment to properly study her. He had only ever met King Florian’s three eldest daughters during his visit to the drakonian court. The youngest two, however, had remained behind in the Fae lands. And now, standing before him in all her quiet might, was the fourth-born child of the king.
Rio Hawthorne.
‘Kage Blackburn,’ he said, inclining his head with a respectful bow. ‘House of Shadows.’
But even as the words left his mouth, he caught the wary glances exchanged among the Fae. Their silence was not one of indifference, but of judgement, of suspicion poorly veiled.
The girl made no reply. She didn’t so much as look at him. Instead, she turned on her heel and began to stride away, pausing only to lift her chin and breathe in the wind.
‘We must make haste,’ she declared, her voice as crisp as the air that stirred her dreadlocks. ‘The winds are shifting. By dawn, this entire place will be ash. We return to the survivors.’
‘Yes, your highness,’ one of the Fae murmured, already moving.
Just before she vanished entirely into the descending walkways of the tree, she stopped once more and said, without turning her head, ‘Bring the Black Lotus and the wyverian with us.’
And then she was gone, slipping into the branches and shadows like smoke on the wind.
…
The moment Kage and Arden descended and passed beneath the twin wooden columns that marked the threshold of the Forest of Endless Trees, they were guided between the trees where they were met with the sight of a makeshift camp, hurriedly constructed, as though summoned by desperation rather than design.
The wounded lay scattered on rough pallets, their soft moans rising like the murmurs of ghosts beneath the boughs, while healers moved swiftly between them, offering balm and comfort where they could.
‘We had already begun our retreat,’ the princess explained, her tone brisk as they wove through the chaos, ‘but we returned for one final sweep when we heard the commotion.’ She exhaled sharply, the sound heavy with regret.
‘The witches struck two days past. My mother and sister escaped in time. My father… did not.’ A pause.
‘I was returning from Velunthar when it happened.’
‘And the queen?’ Arden asked. ‘Is she here?’
Rio stopped, turning just enough for her antlers to catch the light. ‘She is safe. That is all you need know.’
‘I’m Black Lotus—’ Arden began.
A sharp snort cut him off.
Before Rio could voice whatever scathing retort lay on her tongue, a roar tore through the camp, raw and sudden, followed by the unmistakable thud of steel hurtling through air.
A knife, gleaming and deadly, whistled towards Arden’s head.
He spun aside just in time, green eyes flaring with surprise.
Both Arden and Kage turned towards the source.
‘You!’
The bellow came from Elric, storming between tents with Nymeria close behind, fury etched into every line of his face.
‘I’ll return shortly, your highness,’ Arden muttered, already pivoting.
He darted off, Elric in furious pursuit.
Kage remained still, unmoved as ever, watching in silence as the two Fae vanished into the maze of tents.
Nymeria, unhurried, began her approach, her expression unreadable.
She raised her hands, fingers moving swiftly in silent command.
‘She says the Fae named Arden Briar is a traitor,’ one of the guards translated, directing the statement towards the princess. Kage’s brow furrowed slightly as his gaze shifted to Rio, wondering if the princess did not speak the language of signs herself.
But Rio gave no indication of comprehension or concern. Her eyes remained fixed on a distant point, her expression unreadable, carved from stone and silence.
Moments later, Elric emerged from the maze of tents, dragging Arden along with the graceless force of someone deeply irritated. Arden stumbled beside him, half-carried, half-collapsing, his mouth moving faster than his feet.
‘This is completely unfair,’ Arden grumbled, breathless. ‘You didn’t even give me time to stretch. I think I’ve pulled something.’
Elric dropped him unceremoniously at Rio’s feet. ‘Your highness, this is the traitor your father requested returned.’
Arden sat where he’d fallen, brushing off his robes and rolling his eyes in dramatic fashion. Still, Rio didn’t look at him. Her gaze remained fixed on the middle distance, her voice low when it finally came.‘Well, Elric… my father is dead. Is he not?’
Elric faltered, visibly thrown. ‘Yes, but he failed his mission. He was tasked with killing the witches who murdered your sisters.’
‘And it was my father’s arrogance that killed them,’ she said flatly.
Silence fell like a blade.
‘It was his hubris that burnt Floridia,’ Rio went on, her voice a cold wind across brittle leaves.
‘He believed himself untouchable, thought our magic made us immune to theirs. And now look at us. Smouldering ashes where a city once stood.’ She turned at last to face Elric, her eyes like ice caught in moonlight.
‘So tell me, what would you have me do? Execute this Fae? Spill more blood when we’ve already lost so much?
Perhaps, had my father not sent him off on a fool’s errand, he might have been here.
Perhaps he’d have died defending the palace.
Perhaps this conversation would be different. ’
She paused, and for a fleeting moment, something flickered in her expression. Not softness, but weariness.
Kage was not a man easily given to surprise, yet in this moment, he found himself studying the princess with no small amount of astonishment.
She stood before them not in silks or embroidered finery, but clad in forest-green trousers and a matching tunic, her boots scuffed with wear.
The ensemble was modest, practical. Clothes fit for a traveller or scout, not a daughter of royalty.
The Fae were known for their dramatic sartorial choices, either opulent gowns or minimalist robes, never this.
‘The witches are moving north,’ the princess announced, her voice as composed as still water before a storm. ‘I’ll need a small party to ride with me. The rest will return to Velunthar and ready themselves for the war that no doubt awaits us.’
She offered no room for discussion. Without pause or second glance, she swept past Arden, her strides swift and certain. A few paces ahead, she called over her shoulder, ‘We leave at first light.’
Kage extended a hand to Arden, who accepted it and climbed to his feet, brushing off his tunic with exaggerated flair. He threw Elric a glare sharp enough to draw blood, only to ruin the effect by poking out his tongue with a mischievous grin.
‘I’ll admit, you’re craftier than you look,’ Elric muttered, gesturing for them to follow.
Kage hesitated, wary as ever, but Arden was already sauntering off, utterly unconcerned. They were led to a modest tent pitched near a crackling fire, its amber glow warming the night. They settled around it, the flames flickering in their eyes.
‘I really thought my plan would work,’ Arden said, with the petulance of someone whose cleverness had not been properly appreciated.
‘It would have if not for the witches,’ Elric replied curtly. ‘I never imagined you’d be foolish enough to waltz into Floridia.’
Arden only shrugged, but the self-satisfaction gleamed plainly on his face. ‘See?’ he said, pointing directly at Kage. ‘I told you.’
Spirox descended, talons clicking as he landed squarely on Arden’s knee with a sharp caw of approval.
‘Even your bird likes me better,’ Arden declared smugly.
‘I sincerely doubt that,’ Kage muttered beneath his breath, though a flicker of reluctant amusement played at the corner of his mouth.
Arden rose abruptly to his feet. ‘Where’s the wolf?’
Kage froze. Amid the chaos, he had entirely forgotten about Bryn’s great beast. He’d left the creature by the twin wooden columns, trusting that distance alone might shield it from danger, but what if it hadn’t been enough?
Without a word, Kage broke into motion, weaving through the makeshift camp until he reached the edge, only to halt at the sight before him.
There, silhouetted against the hush of twilight, stood the princess. One hand rested calmly upon the thick fur of the wolf, her touch steady and unafraid. The colossal creature locked eyes with Kage the moment he approached, but did not stir from her side.
‘You do keep intriguing company, Kage Blackburn,’ Rio said, her focus trained on the twin pillars that marked the boundary of the forest. Beyond them stretched only fields, deceptively serene but both she and Kage knew the truth lay veiled beneath ancient enchantments.
As if reading his thoughts, she added, ‘The wards have fallen. In a matter of hours, the enchantments will dissolve, and all of you shall see Floridia clearly from here.’
‘Won’t you be here to see it too?’ Kage asked. ‘I thought we were to leave at first light.’
Her hand faltered for the briefest of moments against the wolf’s pelt before it resumed its slow, measured stroke. ‘I had heard the thirdborn of House of Shadows knows all there is to know.’
‘Just rumours,’ Kage said lightly.
‘Ah,’ she murmured, nodding once. ‘Then that must be why you haven’t noticed.’
He frowned, brow furrowing. ‘Noticed what?’
Rio turned to him fully then, her expression unreadable, and tilted her head ever so slightly, as if the truth were something obvious, long overlooked.
‘That I am blind, Kage Blackburn.’