“What does it all mean?”
Avis sighed heavily. “I don't know. But after hearing about Fenlin and Godfrey's mad attempt with your blood, I can't shake the feeling that he might've known something—seen something in Arinthel. Something that ties his desperation to this unrest.”
Elara's fingers brushed over the moonstone as if it might provide some clarity. She struggled to find the link between the two, but then, she wasn't the one who could decipher the language of the stars.
Avis, perceptive as always, caught the subtle crease of Elara's brow and the faint twitch of her lips, lifting her own brow in silent challenge. “Life, as you well know, isn’t always linear.” A sardonic smile played on her lips. “Actions create echoes, and those echoes have been resonating louder. Many of us Druids sense it—those ripples.”
A particular Druid carved its way into Elara’s thoughts. “Branwen?” The name escaped her lips like a barbed whisper.
Avis smirked. “Exactly. Though trust him to muddle through in the most vexing way possible.”
“I just…” Weariness settled into her bones. “Why didn't Fen and Godfrey just come to me? If they had asked for my help, I would have given it freely.” The words spilled out, the ones that had been circling in her mind endlessly.
Avis captured Elara’s hand, her fingers giving a reassuring squeeze. “They couldn't have asked you. In Ulrith, trust is a commodity more precious than gold. Even the bonds of blood are not sacrosanct; suspicions can turn brother against brother.” She exhaled, a weary sigh blending with the cold air aroundthem. “Your hands are clean. Fenlin chose his path. It was his doing, not yours.”
Elara clung to Avis’s hand, searching her face. “Any news of Godfrey?”
A flicker of pain crossed Avis's features. “They imprisoned him.”
In the Pitwas what she wasn't saying out loud. The only place Osin threw traitors and sympathizers.
“Then he's as good as dead,” Elara whispered, her voice threading through the air like a wisp.
Avis stayed quiet, providing neither comfort nor contradiction. The silence that settled was thick and suffocating, making the sprites fluttering nearby seem even more fleeting, their delicate light flickering like the last whispers of a world slowly fading away.
Chapter 9
“Are you sorting, or just lost in fantasies up there?” Algernon's voice, warm and slightly amused, floated up to Elara as she perched atop the ladder, her hands delicately placing an ancient scroll back in its proper place among the towering shelves.
She rolled her eyes. “Only dreaming of a better filing system,sir.”
Dust motes danced in the shafts of golden sunlight that poured through the archive's lofty arched windows, itching Elara's nose. The room was bathed in a soft, buttery light.
She shifted her weight on the groaning ladder, taking in the labyrinth of towering bookshelves that surrounded her. “It really is a disaster up here,” she muttered to herself, pushing aside a bulky chest with a determined grunt. She was making room for a new addition,Herbal Alchemy: The Potency of Nature's Elixir.
Algernon muttered something indecipherable, his attention firmly anchored back to the task of incessant scribbling, crafting the lines of his latest manuscript.
The air was heavy with the scent of parchment as she descended through the stacks that housed Latheria's illustrious history. She passed through the ages of Osin, the rise and fall of the empires, and the detailed accounts of those wholived through the war. She skimmed past the earliest historical accounts—the tales of the Mothers' intervention that led to the separation of the Fae and mortals.
Elara wrinkled her brow. “Are you sure you want it here?” It seemed like an odd spot forHerbal Alchemy,but then, Algernon’s way of organizing books lacked any discernible pattern or logic.
He peered over his glasses from behind the mountains of parchment that littered his ancient desk. With a gentle nod, he said, “Ah, yes, kindly set it there, right next toEthnobotany of the Fae.It should feel quite at home.”
Elara’s gaze swept back over the mess of scrolls and tomes strewn before her. Her eyes paused on titles that delved deep into the mysteries of the Fae:Fauna of Dusk and Starlight: A Comprehensive Study,The Great Divide: Historical Analysis of the Cataclysm That Sundered Realms,Tír na nÓg: Scholarly Insights into the Fae Realm,andThe Ether Exodus: Tracing the Fae's Theft and Humanity's Reclamation.
Elara had pored over those volumes, absorbing them voraciously at one time.The Ether Exodusparticularly held her interest. These texts explored the catastrophic period known as the Great Divide, when the Mothers split the realms apart to protect the distinct species from one another. According to these scholars, it was then that the Fae stripped all ether from the land. This act wasn't just theft; it was a devastation that marked the beginning of a slow decay across the world.
Initially, the changes were subtle shifts in weather patterns, but soon they escalated to widespread famine as the earth turned barren, the seas grew toxic, and even the gentlest creatures became savage, driven mad by hunger and despair.
BesideThe Ether Exoduslay a thick, well-worn volume that Elara despised above all:Osin’s Sacred Journey: Beseeching the Goddesses for Ether.
Unlike the scholarly works that surrounded it, this book dripped with religious zeal. It lacked citations, cross-references, or any semblance of rigorous research—it was purely the proclaimed word of one man, accepted as divine revelation. And yet, everyone revered it. They wept over its pages, andgods, she'd bet some probably clung to it in their sleep.
Elara despised it most because she was mentioned in it, reducing her to an object within its narrative. She was described as merely a vessel, a relic, glossed over as if she werenothing—a reflection, she realized bitterly, of how Osin truly viewed her. It shouldn't have come as a shock, but sometimes, she admitted, she could be naive.
“Has something special caught your fancy?” Algernon called out, adjusting his position to get a better look at her.
"Not at all, nothing up here catches my interest,” Elara replied, pushingOsin’s Sacred Journeyto the back of the shelf, out of sight. She quickly arranged the rest of theHerbal Alchemyvolumes where the old Druid had instructed, then turned back to face him.
