We don’t speak as we stare out over the pit. The energy that lives here- that should fill this space- doesn’t feed any of us. But it should be fueling a fourth of Castara’s Fae.
I have been using my magic to secretly help the crops on our Homestead and my own herbal garden as well. But that is insignificant. It isn’t enough to make an impact beyond my little plot of land.
And who is going to help the Fire Fae? Will Caspien? I don’t see him here touring the lands, meeting with the High Priestess to fix the storms. Can Cillian figure this out on his own?
I look over at the Prince by my side, soot streaks down his sharp cheekbones from the steady drizzle. Sweat causing his shirt to cling to him.
As I study the male, I can sense the weight of Castara on his shoulders. A weight that wasn’t forced there by a Goddess but a self inflicted wound from his own desire. His love for the Fae of this world. A weight that he is carrying on his own.
When he turns his attention to meet mine the darkness that fills his eyes shifts with a spark of light. Like the moon reflecting in the dark swirling waters of night. A real smile tips up the corners of his mouth and my heart responds. Doing that flutter thing that it did when he looked at me as younglings.
Could I take on some of that weight for him? Could I help him save these lands while giving myself more time to figure out what happened to Nova?My shoulders drop a little as I study his face.
“What?” He asks, his smile turning to a question of concern. I shake my head a little, swallowing the lump forming in my throat- swallowing a future that I can’t allow myself to envision. Because even if I stayed in Castara it wouldn’t be him I was standing next to, butCaspien. My time is ticking down. This isn’t my elemental land. There is nothing I can do here with earth magic.
I shake my head a little, the soot bringing water to my eyes. “I thought you said we wouldn’t start with the smoke.” I say playfully as I reach up and ruffle his hair to distract both of us. He chuckles, brushing a piece of ash that falls from his soft brown hair to his nose.
“Should we go ahead and show her?” Cillian asks Niko.
A light breeze cools the beads of sweat on my brow and I glance up following the billowing smoke.
Niko notes my attention, “The smoke has been blowing towards the neighboring Aeronia for- .” He hesitates, “well since the storms started.” The wind lands that are his elemental land and I note the sadness in his voice.
“A strategic offering from a gracious Goddess.” I state sarcastically. No one says anything, no one argues. Cillian just wraps an arm around me and reaches out to clasp Niko on the shoulder. And we all disappear.
The moment we materialize in Aeronia, I break into a coughing fit. Where the air element should be at its purest, it is thick and stifling. Just like they warned, filled with smoke blown from Ignaria.
“Keep your feet grounded. The cliffs are steep.” Niko rightfully warns us. I can’t see anything through the motionless haze that surrounds us. The wind notably absent. One wrong step and I would be at the bottom of the gorge.
Nova and I came here when we were children. The stone edges connected by cloudlike pathways that swayed in the windover the deep expansion. It scared me to death at first but Nova’s laughter as we swung freely in the wind was infectious.
“Have the bridges survived?” I ask no one in particular as we skirt the edge of a cliff.
“No, the winds are unpredictable,” Niko explains. “Some days they are notably absent like today. Others are chaotic and volatile. Most of the skywalks have been ripped from their anchors by the spinning gales that Gaia sends to frequent Aeronia and Terrania.”
Sadness fills my chest. For Niko, for other wind Fae. Those like Nova who loved this sacred place.
We don’t stay long. It isn’t necessary even if we could see the rest of the terrain. The winds have betrayed the elemental Faes that depend on it by ushering in the smoke that now suffocates the land.
We all drink in the fresh air of Aquaria as our bodies fight to expel the smoke that filled our chests. After a few coughing fits, I’m able to right myself and take in the devastated beauty that surrounds me.
Cliffs that obviously spilled over with water in a past life, now stand barren. Rocks and large trees have dammed the waterways so even if the Goddess would send rain to the region, it would have nowhere to flow. The few areas that do retain water are murky, filled with debris.
The ground at our feet is cracked and dry, not too different from what we are seeing in the fields at the Homestead. At a distance I can hear the roars from the deep waters that used to act as a trade route to Varthiel. I’ve heard rumors of the crashing waves and sea life that fight to pull anyone that dare attempt the trek into the depths of the waters.
The iridescent tattoo shimmers up Niko’s neck. His eyes lose focus momentarily, as he takes in the message that is telepathically transmitted to him. Touching his collarbone, thetattoo alights again for a brief moment before his attention returns to us.
“I’m needed back at the castle,” he states, his eyes cutting to me and then back to Cillian.
“You can return. I will keep her safe.” Cillian states confidently, a little huff leaving my nose. Bristling at the implication that,yet again, he thinks I need protecting. But I suppose with my new title and what happened to Nova it is smart to be more cautious.
Niko looks between the two of us, clearly unsure about leaving us. The tattoo alights again and his lips go thin in frustration. “Ok, but head back after this. And don’t go into Terrania without me or more Guardians.”
Cillian starts to protest but Niko holds his hand up, “Please, I can’t risk it.”
The friends stare at one another for a moment before Cillian nods. “Ok, no Terrania.”
Niko thanks him before quickly disappearing into the wind. Leaving us completely alone.
