Lore
They were first called the Daughters of the Gods.
In what would become the Four Realms, well before history was documented with any amount of accuracy, the shifters hugged the coast at the west, the demons, the north, the sorcerers, the east, the fae, the south, and the humans huddled in the mountains of the center.
But the Daughters of the Gods inhabited an island of mist off the coast from the boundary of what is now Land’s End and Dawn’s Break.
It is unknown how they procreated, as they were all female.
It is unknown how they became known to the beings on the mainland.
What is known is that, back then, the species formed clans within their species, and war was commonplace—between clans, between species.
And somehow, a fae chieftain learned the talents and magics of the Daughters of the Gods.
He also learned their location.
He desired their skills, because he knew, with them, he would go undefeated.
He set about building a warship to take his warriors to their island to capture them and bring them to his clan, to force them to serve his bloodlust, his ambitions and his greed.
However, weeks after the journey began, the wreckage of the warship and some of the bodies of his warriors washed up on the shores.
There was one survivor.
He shared tales of the ship entering a thick mist. Of winds and swells the ship couldn’t navigate. Of huge rocks spiking from the waters, breaking up the bow and pitching the warriors into the sea.
This did not deter the chieftain.
He built another warship and sent it to claim the Daughters of the Gods.
This mission did not succeed.
All males aboard perished.
He built another ship.
Its mission did not succeed.
Only death was its reward.
At this point, the chieftain realized that the island of females, clearly enchanted by all the gods, was just that.
An island of females.
Therefore, in his next ship, he populated it only with females.
It set sail.
It disappeared and did not return for the turn of three seasons.
Only then was it seen on the horizon, gliding over the surface of a calm sea toward the shore.
When it arrived, in it was only one female.
She was taken to the chieftain.
She was given food and mead and guided to sit at his feet in their lodge, where he sat his throne.
And she told him they arrived at the Isle of the Sacred. They were welcomed. They were given food that was the most delicious ambrosia that had ever touched her tongue. Wine that tasted of nectar. They were given homes. And clothes. And jewels.
She shared the food was plenty, and once the mist was navigated, the skies over the isle were sunny, the air warm.
She shared those who lived there were not born, they were made.
She shared they were not one species, they were the species.
She shared they were not a clan, they were a tribe.
She shared all who had peace in their hearts, hearts they kept open, were welcome in the tribe.
She shared they were The Watch.
And last, she shared the gods were enraged.
They did not create the dirt for beings to spill blood on.
They created the forests to provide shelter from storms, to build dwellings, not to craft weapons.
They gave us fire to provide warmth, not to be used to cause terror.
They created beings of might for them to lead, not to subjugate, amass power and usurp land.
And beings would not enjoy the magics of the Sisters of the Tribe unless they learned to exalt righteously in the gifts the gods had bestowed on them.
She shared that this was the first test, and the chieftain’s decision would guide the way for centuries to come.
The chieftain asked about their powers.
She told him they were not of one species, but all of them, for all the species were of the Tribe. They held magic. They could conjure. They could glamor. They had great speed and strength. And they could shift, but not to one beast, to any beast they chose.
She also shared that these powers had been given to her, and to all the other females the chieftain had sent to the Isle of the Sacred.
The chieftain asked what they watched.
She told him they watched over all on the great blade of earth the gods had granted to them.
The chieftain asked how they did that, and why.
She said this was the concern only of the gods and the Sisters of the Tribe.
She said it was a test of faith.
The chieftain heard no words of faith.
He’d earned his throne through might and slaughter, beings feared him…as it should be.
He was the power, thus he heard no words of enraged gods.
What he did hear were words of magic and more might.
And jewels.
And an island of bounty.
But he knew he had to be very careful. He had to plan. This was going to be his most formidable opponent yet.
And they could not be forewarned of his plans.
She was of his clan.
She was of his blood.
She was his brother’s daughter.
He struck her down where she sat at his feet.
He stepped over her corpse.
And he planned.
He built ships.
And he, himself, along with hundreds of his warriors, boarded to sail to the Isle of the Sacred.
He, himself, saw the mist shrouded island on the horizon.
He gloried to himself in what would be his victory, as he’d never tasted defeat.
He would claim the isle.
He would bind its inhabitants to his ambitions.
And then he would set about conquering the entirety of the blade of earth that rose north of his lands.
As they sailed, the storm came swift and unexpected.
The chieftain did not perish.
But he did witness the end of the Sisterhood of the Tribe, as naught but the gods could create the colossal swell of sea that rose up and swallowed the island completely.
As the tidal receded, gone was the mist.
Gone was the storm.
And gone was the island and all who called it home.
“Vid pause,” Tanyn called out.
“Figures,” I snapped. “Males.”
We were in a lounge watching a documentary on the screen about the Sisterhood of the Tribe.
It was the next evening.
Predictably, it had been a super busy day.
Shit was getting real.
Needless to say, Aleksei and Laura were still in Night’s Fall, dealing with the fallout of Arnaud’s escape.
They couldn’t contain the news, so it was all over the media.
And obviously, the citizens of Abyssinia did not miss that they went to sleep with a snow packed castle on a rise in the middle of the city and woke up to a fearsome black bastion looming over the place.
As such, earlier that day, I’d stood at the back of Tanyn’s study next to Mira and Jorda and among a bunch of mediabeings as Tanyn leaned casually against the desk (Mira’s idea, a good one), making a statement (that Mira wrote, also a good one) that the lore was true.
When the king of Sky’s Edge found his mate in troubled times, the curse holding Berg Castle frozen would lift.
And the king of Sky’s Edge had found his mate.
Me.
He then went on to share—allegedly (huh)—that the former queen, Tatra, and the disgraced, dethroned pretender king, Arnaud, had conspired to murder King Riland and Queen Darynda.
The murders had been confirmed. The evidence was pointing to Tatra and Arnaud.
And the citizens of Sky’s Edge should rest assured every effort was being made to conduct a thorough investigation, and as the evidence was mounting, seek them throughout the realms and return them to Abyssinia to answer to these charges.
The language around how Arnaud had circumvented the truth serum was very careful.
And no mentions were made of the attack on Sigil, the attack at Berg last night, of Tatra controlling Riland for decades, or of the existence of the Sisterhood of the Tribe (in fact, that last had been sworn to secrecy between Tanyn, me, Nayden, Uly, and the other three couples).
Of course, after this was broadcast, the media and social tapes flooded with commentary, opinions, guesswork and conspiracy theories.
Though, I was coming out on top.
There were many who were pissed their fabulous snow castle was gone, and that “ugly black monstrosity” had taken its place.
But most thought it was rad.
“Way more demon. It finally represents us!” one vid on the tapes said.
And they were thrilled Tanyn found me, because, obviously, I was mega.
Although Aleksei and Laura had to deal with things in the Fall, Bain and Aleece, and Mac and Gayle had spent the day wrapping things up because they were returning early (they were due back in about an hour). Aleksei and Laura would return on Saturday morning.
Fortunately, nothing shitty happened to any of those four the night before.
But they weren’t fucking about with getting back to the crew.
Tanyn also wasn’t fucking about.
Manny and Zyra were already back from Nocturn.
He’d sent the Blood Scythe to guard Mom and Dad.
And he’d demanded Nayden, Uly and Estra move into the castle.
As for me, I’d had a long conference comm with Gayle and Laura, informing them what happened with Monique.
There was incredulity, and tears, mostly from Laura, unsurprisingly, because she’d learned our Monique had saved her life.
But they both perked up when I confirmed I was indeed Tanyn’s fated mate.
Laura confessed she and Aleksei had long since thought that was the case with some of the things I’d shared. She just hadn’t mentioned it because she didn’t want to get my hopes up.
That was very sweet, as Laura always was.
And now, considering the state of Berg Castle, it was undeniable.
And mega.
It was safe to say, both Tanyn and I were still coming to terms with the new normal of the castle.
Neither of us understood it, because obviously, all the furniture and fittings had not been the same back when the curse was settled on the structure, so it would stand to reason they had not been magicked.
But all of it was different.
And not different in the sense that just the colors of it had changed.
It was different…
Entirely.
Actually, it looked a lot like what was in the citadel, except more majestic and less worn.
And there was a good deal more of it.
This was not my aesthetic at all.
But Tanyn seemed made for it.
It was all kinds of freaky.