35.

  Faelwen

  The morning had passed in a peaceful hush, the hours slipping by like grains of sand in an hourglass. My lessons had been long finished by the time we finally ventured into the embrace of the waning sun, eager to steal a few final moments of warmth before twilight draped its indigo veil over the land.

  We descended into the valley where, at the mountain’s foot, a lake lay cradled in the arms of an ancient pine forest. The water shimmered like liquid sapphire, so brilliantly blue that it seemed more illusion than reality.

  We perched upon the great stone outcroppings that framed the lake, smooth and cool beneath our fingertips. Before us stretched the ethereal expanse of water. The lake mirrored the towering, craggy peaks that loomed above it, their snow-kissed summits ghosting across the water’s glassy surface. Dark evergreens crowded the shoreline, their scent lacing the crisp mountain air.

  Spook and Ash were locked in a battle of skill, hurling stones across the water, their laughter ringing through the crisp air as each tried to best the other. Elora sat nearby, methodically sharpening her sword, her expression one of quiet focus, while Artemis leaned against my side.

  The world around us felt suspended, caught between time and silence. A few elves drifted by on slender canoes, their movements as fluid as the water, and others walked the shore, murmuring in hushed voices. But if I closed my eyes, I could imagine we were alone. Just us, the wind, and the rustling whispers of the trees.

  The air here was different from the mountains of my childhood. It carried no trace of briny sea breeze that often kissed the Ancestral Region. Instead, it was sharper, drier, with the scent of pine and frost.

  A pang of longing tightened in my chest. Home felt like another world, another life. I had lost so much. And yet, despite the ache, excitement hummed through my veins.

  I was on a journey, a path winding through lands unknown, accompanied by the strangest, most wonderful companions. I smiled.

  “You think I could take a swim?” I mused aloud. Elora and Artemis exchanged a look, their expressions a mirror of unspoken agreement.

  It’s melted ice water, Artemis’ voice echoed in my mind. Knowing you, you’ll turn into an ice cube.

  “It’s too cold,” Elora said aloud, her words perfectly in sync with his thoughts. I sighed, but rebellion burned hot in my veins. Kicking off my boots, I let my bare feet skim the water.

  The moment my skin touched the surface, an icy dagger of regret shot through me. A gasp left my lips as I yanked my feet back, shivering as the cold bit into my bones.

  I told you so, I heard Artemis grin in my head and I stuck out my tongue at him as if I were a little child. Laughter erupted behind me. Then came the unmistakable sound of a splash.

  We all turned in time to see Ash flailing in the lake, his usually cocky smile replaced by a stunned expression. Spook stood victorious on the rocks, arms crossed smugly.

  “That’s what you get for cheating,” he declared.

  I chuckled, shaking my head. Boys. Ash grumbled as he hauled himself out of the water, his soaked shirt clinging to him like a second skin. With a scowl, he peeled it off, wringing it out.

  As he turned, my gaze caught on the infernal mark seared into his back. The sinister brand given by the Fiend. I had always wondered about the weight he carried, the burden of a bargain struck in desperation. Curiosity won over caution.

  “Why did you make a deal with him?” I asked as he walked over, putting on his still wet shirt. Ash stiffened. For a moment, anxiety flickered across his face, but it was quickly replaced by resignation. He sighed.

  “I knew you’d ask eventually.”

  He sank down beside me, an arm draped around my shoulders, drawing me into his embrace.

  “Please don’t judge me,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry.

  My eyes met Elora’s for a second. Her jaw tightened and she turned away feigning disinterest, though undoubtedly tuned in on our conversation.

  “I told you about my family, right?” Ash’s voice was quieter now, weighted with memory as he released me. I nodded. I knew he had fled with his family from the Primordial Lands, or Fae Lands, to the Ancestral Region.

  “You know that one day my mother and Maeve fell ill and the healers couldn’t help them. But I knew, we knew, that magic could save them. My father refused. He was too afraid. So I left as you know and searched for any way to protect them.” He inhaled sharply, his fingers digging into the damp fabric of his shirt. “The Fiend promised me power beyond imagining. It was tempting. Something I always wanted. He told me I could heal my family… and fight for Orion’s cause. I believed him. I wanted to believe him.”

  His voice wavered.

  “The Fiend knew I was too late, but I didn’t. And he convinced me to give him my soul in return for power.”

  Silence wrapped around us. But somehow a heavy feeling lifted off my shoulders. In my eyes he had good reasons to believe the Fiend might help him. He looked away, grief tightening his jaw. I said nothing, only wrapped my arm around him, pressing my head against his shoulder. There were some wounds no words could heal. I knew far too well how that felt.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “It’s okay,” I whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder, offering what little comfort I could. I felt his body tremble beneath me. We stayed like this for a few minutes. The silence only disturbed by the sound of Elora’s blade on stone and the song of birds.

  Suddenly a voice cut through the quiet.

  “You wished to contact us?”

  We turned as one. Spook quickly stepped forward, joining us from the lake’s edge. Before us stood a tall, enigmatic elf, his skin as pale as moonlight, his white hair shaved at the sides and braided in the back. His piercing, ice-hued eyes assessed us warily. Clad in sleek black, small blades strapped to his form, he radiated a lethal grace.

  He spoke in Elvish, his voice smooth as shadowed silk. Spook tilted his head.

  “Can you speak the common tongue, please?”

  The stranger’s gaze flickered to him. A silent challenge passed between them, a wordless battle of wills. At last, the elf nodded.

  “You seek help?” he asked in the common language. Spook met his stare unflinchingly.

  “Ever heard of the First Inhabitants?”

  A pause.

  The elf’s eyes narrowed slightly.

  “You mean the dragons?”

  Spook said nothing. The silence stretched, taut as a drawn bowstring. At last, the stranger inclined his head, amusement barely flickering at the edges of his sharp features.

  “I don’t share information without a price,” he murmured, his voice sharp like a blade.

  Spook’s jaw clenched, the tension in his face sharp as a blade ready to be drawn. But before he could speak, Elora stepped forward, her voice edged with urgency.

  “We can offer gold. Will three hundred pieces suffice?”

  Spook shot her a dark glance, irritation flickering in his eyes. The stranger’s smile curled at the corners, slow and deliberate—a cat toying with a mouse.

  “No,” the Stranger said. I held my breath as Spook’s glare deepened—a silent warning to Elora before he turned his attention back to their enigmatic visitor.

  “You answer to someone,” Spook stated, his words measured, probing. The stranger inclined his head.

  “What do you want in exchange for the information?” Spook asked. A glint of amusement danced in his gaze, sending an uneasy chill down my spine.

  “Something was taken from my master,” the stranger continued, his voice taking on a dangerous silkiness. “And he wants it back.”

  “I’m no thief,” Elora protested, bristling, but Spook raised a hand to silence her.

  “Who took it?” Spook’s face became a mask of stone as well, unreadable and impassive. I had never seen him like this. But now I understood why the Basilisk was reluctant to let him go. The stranger’s eyes darkened.

  “The dragon.” He hissed the words like a curse, as though just uttering the name soured his tongue. Spook’s gaze flickered toward us, seeking our silent agreement. My gut twisted with hesitation, but I nodded. Ash and Artemis followed suit. With a weary sigh, Elora shrugged, relenting. Spook returned his focus to the stranger.

  “Tell me more.”

  The man leaned in slightly, his shadow stretching unnaturally in the dim light.

  “The dragon was once in my master’s service. It betrayed him, stealing an artifact of great power. A necklace of protection.”

  The description the elf gave sent a thrill of curiosity through me. A golden chain, bearing a ruby hewn into the shape of a shield. A relic that could conjure a magical barrier around its wearer, a protector against all harm.

  We agreed to reclaim it.

  The stranger supplied what little information he had. The dragon’s name and form remained a mystery, but it laired beneath the ancient prison deep within the mountain’s bones. A labyrinth of forgotten tunnels and forsaken halls. And then, just as swiftly as he had appeared, the stranger melted into the night. Elora let out a frustrated breath.

  “I don’t like this,” she muttered as she watched the last wisps of the stranger’s presence fade like smoke on the wind. Spook shrugged.

  “At least now we know where to start.”

  Elora shook her head, her brows knit in a storm of conflicted thoughts.

  “It goes against everything I was taught. Infiltrating a prison, stealing…”

  “How else did you think we’d get the runes?” Spook cut in, his voice laced with dry amusement. “By knocking on the dragon’s door and asking politely?”

  She scowled. I noticed Artemis moving closer to her, his head gently scratching against her leg as if to reassure her.

  “And you think the ‘terrible, mighty dragon’ will just hand over its treasure?” Spook continued.

  “No,” she admitted, her shoulders sagging slightly. “But still… it feels wrong.”

  I stepped closer as well, offering a reassuring nod.

  “It clashes with your values. I get it. That’s not an easy burden.”

  Elora sighed.

  “No, it isn’t.”

  Ash clasped her shoulder with a grin.

  “Then think of it this way. You’re not stealing for greed. You’re doing it to save your people from the Fiend and his hordes. Hell, you’re protecting the entire Mid Realm.”

  Elora exhaled, then let out a dry chuckle.

  “Fine. I’ll try to see the ‘sunny side’ of this.”

  Spook smirked.

  “That’s the spirit, princess. And remember, leadership isn’t always about doing what feels right. It’s about doing what must be done to protect your own. You’ll learn that when you take over your father’s burden.”

  A glimmer of understanding passed over her face before she finally nodded.

  “You’re right. Still I don’t like it. But maybe I’ll learn a thing or two along the way.”

  Spook grinned, nudging her shoulder with his own.

  “Oh, you can count on that.”

  With the weight of our decision settled between us, Spook stretched with a satisfied groan.

  “Now, how about we enjoy one last good meal at the inn before embarking on this grand misadventure?”

  Laughter rippled through our group, momentarily pushing away the uncertainty looming over us. We turned toward the way that led us to the warm glow of the inn’s lights, the promise of food and fleeting comfort drawing us in.

  But as we walked, an uneasy thought coiled in my mind, slithering through my confidence. I reached out to Artemis, our minds brushing together.

  Hey, buddy… there’s something bothering me.

  Artemis padded closer, his sleek fur brushing my leg, golden eyes glinting with silent inquiry.

  What is it, Wen?

  We know the dragon’s lair is beneath the prison… but how do we find it? My thoughts churned with doubt. I doubt they’re put up signs reading ‘Dragon’s Den, downstairs, third left.’ And how do we fight a dragon?

  Artemis let out a low, rumbling sound. Amusement perhaps?

  Do not fear, Wen. You have me. And I can sniff out the way.

  His confidence settled something small in me, slightly easing the tension coiling in my chest. I reached down, scratching behind his ears.

  Then let’s hope your nose and wisdom lead us true.

  When we reached the inn, a shiver crawled up my spine again, the hairs at the nape of my neck prickling with unseen warning. Artemis stiffened next to me, his golden eyes glaring at the increasing darkness around us. I glanced at Ash, catching the wary shift of his posture. He clasped his shoulder—the one bearing the mark—his fingers digging into the fabric as his breath caught.

  He felt it too.

  Something had changed in the air. A heavy silence pressed in around us, thick as the night itself. The birds had stopped singing their evening song and the world felt like it was on the brink of change.

  My breath came slower, my senses reaching outward, searching the shadows. If our unease earlier had been tied to the stranger we met, then why did the feeling remain?

  No, this presence was something else. Something older. More powerful. Something I had felt before. My heart skipped a beat. The shadows whispered on the wind, their message clear:

  I’m coming for you.

  The End