Chapter 17 Carwynn
CARWYNN
“Padraig save our souls,” Breena whispered, near-prayer. “It’s true then. What they’ve been saying.” Her face crumbled, searching Aine’s face for answers.
A hollow ache bloomed deep in my gut, twisting and churning.
“What do you mean? Who’s saying what?” I asked.
“There’ve been rumors,” Breena murmured, her hands raising instinctively, as if readying for a fight. “The elders warned about our land’s power waning. Speculating that the snakes—dark forces long-gone—are returning again.”
“Old doesn’t mean wise,” Aine snipped, shifting on her feet.
“The elders have been gossiping about myths and ancient prophecies for centuries. Darkness rising, lands falling—the same old tales spewed over and over again.” Her tone faltered slightly.
“Still—this isn’t normal. I don’t believe in ancient beasts resurrecting, crawling back for revenge.
But I do believe in power-hungry pricks who’d tear the realm apart. ”
She looked at me then. Something flashed over her expression. Concern, maybe?
“All right.” Breena’s shoulders quivered, releasing a chill. “Best not to dwell on it. We’re here to unwind, remember?”
“And just ignore the flickering omen of impending doom?” I shot out, arching a surprised eyebrow.
Aine tossed a chocolate-dipped muffin at me. The exact one I’d been eying earlier in the day. I caught it right before it hit its mark.
“Don’t worry, this glade is the safest place in the land right now,” Aine said, satisfied I caught the baked good in time. “Breena warded it years ago. Nothing of ill will can enter. We’ll tackle doomsday another night.” A crunch sounded as she bit into a flaky pastry with glassy berries on top.
We sprawled out on the stone benches, munching our troubles away like pills to an ailment. The silence filled with the sounds of trickling water and delicious buttery crunching.
I laid my back on the rock, gazing up at the glittering dots above.
One shone brightest among the rest. The North Star, maybe?
Would that even be possible? It looked as if it were winking at me, trying to draw my attention.
My mind wandered, thinking about the mystical, magical world I was now part of.
“I know each land has their own stories and whatnot,” I said, words bounding through the quiet air. “But I’m only familiar with the basics of them. Is there a universal one? Like one story each land agrees on?”
It seemed inevitable there’d be some common ground amongst them all.
“Hmm,” Breena mumbled pensively, sitting up on the stone.
“Ya know, that’s a good point. If the lands came together to share all of their versions of the stories, I’m sure a foundation could be built off of the similarities.
But, sadly, we’ve all remained pretty isolated from each other.
At least, until recent times.” She twirled a lock of dark hair around a finger.
“I suppose the story of the Lightbringer would be the closest to a universal belief.”
Aine narrowed her eyes at us while chewing. I could almost hear her internal monologue saying: Nerds.
I sat up, back straightening. I was always down for a good campfire story.
“Story time! Do tell,” I said, staring at Breena expectantly.
Breena giddily scooted forward on her rock before clearing her throat.
“As the humans would say,” she began with a wink, “once upon a time, long ago, an ancient God—the Lightbringer—pulled embers from the stars and shaped the Ferie Realm, a world born of flame and starlight. First, he created a vast sea, the Calendia Ocean. Then, he coaxed the ground to rise.”
Breena lifted her arms, replicating the motion. Her eyes shone, gold freckles dancing in the firelight. “Five islands surfaced, forming a ring. He gifted one to each of his five beloved children, to be shaped as they pleased.”
Aine hopped off her rock, wiping crumbs from her lap. She looked bored by Breena’s tale.
I, on the other hand, felt like a kid again, hearing about rainbows, castles, and fairies for the first time.
“Amora, a daughter warm of heart, was gifted the first. Her tears of joy carved crystal shores, and her laughter bloomed fields of wildflowers beneath pink cherry blossoms. When her soft body caressed the earth, Mount Lovelorn stirred with fiery passion, but the sway of her gentle curves lulled it back to sleep.
Her land blossomed into a haven of love and beauty. Loveland.
“To Alaric, a son grim of soul, he gave the second. Wherever he stepped, decay and rot spread. Twisting yews grew tall, their bark scarred, weeping with memory. His own shadow whispered secrets, and Death itself walked beside him. There, Hallow Land was born.
“Eostre, his bright-eyed and cunning daughter, received the third. She hid pieces of herself across the land. Wherever they hatched, rebirth flourished. Forests of towering sycamores became the land’s nest of fertility, curiosity, and trial. Eostre Land.”
The pads of my fingers dug into the spongy moss on the rock as my focus piqued. An image of the grove, the portal trees, flashed to the forefront of my mind.
“To Felan, his luck-touched son, he gave the fourth. With a gamblers grin, he spun the fates like dice. And when he walked, oak trees rooted deep and cities bloomed in ivy-riddled stone. His will was as strong as the dense caves of gold hidden beneath. Luckland.
“To Vinter, his solemn and silent son, he gifted the last. He stood in awe beneath the stars, and the land grew cold. He flung a piece of himself across the sky as a gift, birthing Polaris, his radiant star. Snow draped across the ground, endless evergreen forests grew tall, and frost-kissed mountains rose like gods. His very breath warmed the wind and his quiet grace penetrated all he touched. Through his generosity, Vinterland was born.”
Breena’s bright face dimmed.
“But the Lightbringer feared what would happen if his children turned on one another. So he called for a sixth island to rise at the center—Soul Isle. There, he planted a seed of his own soul, and from it rose Natalis Mountain. At its peak, he lit a flame, the First Candela. A forever-flame to balance all the lands.”
Breena paused, looking over her shoulder toward the Scurboga Gate and Luckland’s Candela beyond. Her voice dropped, almost reverent.
“The First Candela’s light spread outward, and from it, a Candela emerged in each of the five lands. Anchoring each one to another, sharing their soul-flow, their power, their peace.”
She slowly turned back, letting out a soft sigh as her eyes met mine.
“If a Candela was ever snuffed out, the land would fall into silence. Its gate would close. And the souls—they’d be left to wander. Lost.”
The earlier image of the Scurboga Gate sent a shiver up my arms, as if scraped by ice. It had flickered like a candle, gasping for breath.
A deafening silence fell between us. My tongue grew heavier with every thought of Loveland popping into my head, weighing it down. Their souls, lost. A vice tightened on my heart. I’d do anything to help David bring power back to his land—to restore its Candela. If that’s possible.
“For luck’s sake,” Aine’s voice tore through the air like an angsty teen ripping down a poster. “What happened to unwinding?”
I hadn’t even noticed, but at some point, she’d pulled off her pants. Her sweater then followed as she tugged it upward, undershirt following suit, revealing her beautiful, slender, almost-naked body.
What the hell was she doing?
“Um,” I drawled. “Is there something you’d like to share with us, Aine?” I flashed a half-shocked, half-amused grin.
Feet thudded on the dirt as Breena leapt off her rock, untying the strings at her waist.
Okay. Well, this was getting weird. Was this the part where we’d get naked and chant around the fire? Some witchy, Si Craft thing?
“The two of ya babbling about lore is stressing me out,” Aine grumbled as she strode toward the off-shoot pool of the stream. “I’m soaking in the spring.” Her foot kicked off her panties, leaving her completely, bare-ass naked.
Oooookay. Welp, that just happened . . .
It wasn’t a bad sight at all, but it took me by surprise. Part of me wondered when we’d crossed from friends, to peel off your layers, display all your vulnerabilities, go skinny-dipping together kind of friends.
“Fates! We haven’t dipped in forever,” Breena squealed, excitedly tossing her clothes aside.
I involuntarily darted my eyes away, not used to knowing this level of intimate detail about my roommates.
Turning back, water sprayed into the air as Breena jumped in. Aine’s eyes closed, head resting against the ledge where rock met grass.
“Oh, come on now, Carwynn,” Aine said. “No one’s got anything we haven’t already seen before.” Her mouth twitched, exhaling a relaxed breath.
She had a point. We were all mature, grown women.
And yet, memories of that insecure little girl changing in the bathroom stall of the locker room .
. . placing a pillow over her stomach as she sat on her friend’s couch .
. . being close to passing out in the heat because she refused to remove her sweatshirt . . . all came flooding back.
You are not who you were, a voice, perhaps my own, firmly whispered into my mind.
A slow, subtle warmth curled along my senses, a comforting hand reminding me of the present. These were my friends. My safe space. Not once had they ever made me feel unheard, unseen, or that I had something to be ashamed of.
“All right,” I said, feeling lighter. “But if it’s freezing cold, I’m out.”
I let out all the air I was holding hostage in my lungs, then removed my clothes. And—
Nothing. No one booed. No one laughed. No one gasped at the marks on my skin. Only a loud silence that reminded me I was my own worst enemy. And tonight, I’d only allow myself to be among friends.
Breena let out a dramatic exhale, studying me like I was some intricate work of art at a museum. “What I wouldn’t do for those hips and a pair of tits like that.”