61. Raea #2
She removes her robes, handing them to Finn, who obediently hangs them on a hook like he’s done it hundreds of times before. She’s dressed in casual clothes, an embroidered tunic and trousers. It’s almost shocking. I try not to stare.
Without looking up as she begins flipping through pages, she asks, “To what do we owe the pleasure, Soraea?”
Before I can answer, Finn replies, “I’ve invited Raea to come and live with us. Her friends as well. I think they’ll be much more comfortable here than at the sanctuary.”
Serathiel hums, continuing to flip pages. “I’ll place them in the west wing. It’s been too long since we’ve hosted.”Serathiel doesn’t pause her scanning. “As you wish Lord Finn. Besides, this is your home to run. You may manage your household as you wish.”
The tome slams closed hard enough to shock me.
Her penetrating gaze lands on me. “You will not be able to wield properly, Soraea, unless you ground yourself. You need to remember where you’ve come from, who you are, and where you’re going.
You will never have all the answers you seek, but faith in yourself, in the magic you’ve been blessed with, should be enough…
for now.” She studies me a moment before adding, “Your lifeforce suits you well. There’s a vitality that was not there before. And your Mating Bond?”
“Two, Lady Serathiel,” I respond.
“Good,” she says, turning back to the shelves. “And you may call me Lady Sera while in our home.” She searches the shelves. Finn gestures for the door, falling in step behind me as we take our leave. As we reach the door, she says, “Oh and Soraea?”
When I look back, she smiles.
“I cannot wait to see you embrace who you truly are. For when you do, I believe you shall light the heavens themselves.”
Finn shows me the west wing before we leave. During the daytime, the rooms feel grand and yet subtle—balanced. One with nature and still beautiful. White stone columns overhead shaped like tree trunks, their branches holding up the glass encased hall.
Each room is equally surprising. I decide this is exactly what we need. I need to see the stars. As we leave his home, I take the time to ask about the different faeries and other Fae living here.
He tells me that they’ve sought sanctuary in exchange for working.
The merfolk have left their clans after being shunned or hurt by others.
The centaurs were found weak and would have been killed had they not left.
Some of the sprites have left for various reasons, the resident fire sprite cares for and attends to all the fires.
The other Elven families here all have members who serve in the Elven armies.
Here, they’re cared for while their family members are away.
Of course not all choose to live or even stay.
Most prefer the wild woods, where the sky is bigger and the air thinner.
This is too polished for most of the Elven.
There are other Elven estates scattered throughout Auralis and Thyrien, some on Sorynth—the king’s home world.
“I struggle to see you in this environment,” I admit. “It feels too opulent for you.”
Finn grins. “I prefer smaller huts and cabins. In fact, I have many. One in each of the villages I oversee. The Elven for the most part, were meant to be one with the roots and the land. Estates are more of a Fae thing, but they do have utility. Take the library for example. Those tomes are protected there. If they were in one of the treehouses, they’d be at risk for fire, bugs, mold…
” He shrugs. “Having a place like this is a necessity.”
“So why not put us in one of the villages?” I blink, unsure if I’m really seeing Lord Finn blush. It almost makes me laugh.
“You would be…” He sighs. “You would be a distraction. Elven clans are family. If you’re welcomed into a village, they expect you to stay.”
He doesn’t have to say it for me to know what he means. We are temporary here. In truth, I’m not sure where we belong. I’ve had time to think about it. Returning to Kyrr or Malaya doesn’t feel right.
No matter where we go now, the eight—seven of us will always be out of place. At least in Caelestis.
When Finn opens the portal, I hear Lady Sera’s words again. I need to ground myself…and then I’ll tap into my full gift.
As we step out into the field once more, a new determination settles over me.
I don’t need a throne or a crown to make me powerful.
I’ve never allowed my position to sway my own opinions of myself, so why have I let it hold power over me now?
I was a princess. Maybe I still am in title, but I can no longer be defined by human definitions.
When the Primordials made me, they knew what I would be capable of—who I was meant to become.
They knew it wasn’t a crown upon my head that gave me power, but the will to rise, to fight, to never surrender.
And they knew that love—for my mate, my friends, my family, my people… and myself—would be what defines me.
I’ve been thinking about this all wrong. I’ve been trying to fit into a mold that was never meant to hold me. I’ve never wanted to fit a mold anyway. So as I take my place once more, I ground myself in that truth.
I was made. And I was born. I was human, and now I am Elven. I am quiet and I am fierce—and I do not have to choose between the two. I never have. I am me. Unique. Undefinable.
I hold the power of the stars within me. I am capable.
I was never a daughter, or a Bond, or a crown.
I am fire.
I am starlight.
I am mine.
I stop reaching for what I think a warrior should carry. I stop trying to mimic Ryker’s ice or Kellan’s steel. Instead, I reach for the core of myself—not what I’ve been taught to be, but what I have survived becoming.
When I thrust my hands forward, the light condenses into weight. The magic doesn’t rush or fracture this time. It gathers, deliberate and certain, answering a truth I’ve finally accepted.
This time when I hold out both hands and close my eyes, the blade I summon isn’t one I’ve ever seen.
It isn’t defined by the laws and rules of an army.
It is uniquely mine, as my magic is. The blade that forms isn’t glass or steel—it is starlight made solid.
It doesn’t just glow. It thrums, steady and alive, in time with my heartbeat.
In my hand, is the most beautiful blade I've ever seen. Crafted of pure starlight. It’s over two feet long, the blade looks like it has been crafted from iridescent diamond, trapping an ethereal light beneath.
The guard is a crescent shape, the hilt a luminescent gold that shines like it’s been forged in the hottest fire and then shined to perfection.
As I lift it to my face, studying the different angles, a series of runes appear down the blade, and in a language I don’t know, small words appear.
My eyes burn as I study it. This…this is what I need. I need to drop the preconceived notions of who I am supposed to be, and embrace who I am.
I hold the blade out, twisting it, the light from its edge reflecting in my eyes.
The forest goes silent. When I look up, the skepticism in the warriors' eyes has vanished, replaced by an awe that verges on fear.
They sink to their knees, not because of my title, but because of the raw, celestial power pulsating from the weapon in my hand.
Ryker is grinning, his ice sword vanishing as he recognizes the equal he always knew I was.
“Now,” Finn says, his voice steady and grave, “we can begin.