“Tristaine,” Cora said. “I learned about him in El’Ara. How Satsara was sent to weave a ward around him that would banish him from the fae realm, but she fell in love with him instead.”
Ailan nodded. “Shortly after Darius was born, she relayed the truth of his parentage to her consort and tribunal.”
“Her consort…” Cora was reminded of something she’d yet to mention. “Etrix. He was Satsara’s consort and…and your father, right?”
Ailan’s gaze sharpened as she whipped her face toward Cora. “Yes. How did you—”
“I met him. He, Fanon, and an Elvyn named Garot were the ones who found me.”
“You met my father.”
“He and Garot were…relatively kind to me.”
Ailan’s lips turned down. “I’m sorry Fanon was unkind. I…I can’t imagine how the years have felt for him. I’ve had over five hundred years away from him, but it hasn’t been nearly so long for him. More like seventy-five years, based on the discrepancy in the passage of time between here and El’Ara. He must still cling to hope that I’ll return, yet at the same time, the truthweavers must have heard the same whispers that have spoken to me. He will know I’ve furthered my bloodline in the human world. Essentially moving on from him.”
“Were the two of you in love?” Maybe it was a silly question. In the human world, political alliances were often loveless, and Satsara’s affair with Tristaine suggested her relationship with Etrix may have been the same. But just like Cora had been blessed with a marriage to a man she loved, maybe the same happened in El’Ara.
“We were,” Ailan said, her expression turning distant once more. “I didn’t expect to love him, but I did, and he loved me fiercely in return. It surprised us both. The Morkara and their heirs are paired strategically with their consorts to grant honors to great Elvyn families, much like human royal marriages. Neither of us expected love.”
“What about Satsara and Etrix?”
“Ah, that brings me back to what I’d been trying to explain. Their pairing had been far colder than mine and Fanon’s was. They both had lovers, as that is commonplace for many Elvyn. And unlike human rules of succession, only the Morkara’s bloodline counts when passing the role to their heirs. The Morkara’s heir can be born from any partner they choose. So when my mother conceived Tristaine’s child, the only alarming thing about it was that the child was half human. By then, Satsara and Etrix had begun to form a warm relationship, a love born from friendship and honesty. She admitted to her newborn son’s origins and that she’d never banished the human she’d been sent to exile years ago. The tribunal agreed to treat her son with the same respect a pureblood Elvyn heir would receive, so long as she banished Tristaine once and for all. She agreed and raised Darius as her precious prince.
“After several years, Satsara and Etrix grew closer, eventually developing a physical relationship and bringing me into the world. Naturally, the tribunal favored me over Darius, for even though they treated Darius with the reverence required, they remained suspicious at heart. Their misgivings only solidified as he grew older and discovered his ability to worldwalk. What started as simple pranks—startling the servants, sneaking into places he shouldn’t go—evolved into dangerous acts. He managed to worldwalk to his father in Syrus somehow, which opened his ability to travel to the human world. From there he’d bring in human captives, sometimes for pleasure, but other times for trickery and torment, abandoning them in the woods and watching how they fared or setting fae creatures upon them.”
Cora’s stomach turned. All the childhood faerytales that described vicious fae and deadly tricks now seemed chillingly real. But there was something that left her even more unsettled.
“How did Darius worldwalk to Syrus? Had Satsara allowed Tristaine to take him there before she’d banished him, or do his abilities work differently from mine?”
“His abilities work like yours,” Ailan said. “He only ever worldwalked to places he’d been before. I never learned how he’d managed to worldwalk to Syrus the first time. Tristaine first found El’Ara unintentionally. Maybe Darius’ journey was accidental too.”
Ailan was right about Tristaine. He was a clairalient witch who’d first found the fae realm by following a scent. If she remembered Garot’s tale correctly, that had been on Samhain, when the veils between worlds were thinnest. Perhaps the same phenomenon had allowed Darius to find his father.
Ailan continued. “As much as my mother doted on her son, not even she could deny how dangerous he was becoming. He’d already reached maturity, and I was approaching it myself. The tribunal urged her to wait to choose her heir until I came of age, just to give us an equal chance at proving our worth. Mother clung to her hope that Darius would change, clung to the child that represented her first love.
“Then came the turning point. I reached maturity and was allowed to try to bond a dragon. Darius had been rejected four times, and the tribunal was beginning to worry Berolla’s hatchlings were too wild for bonding. But I was deeply drawn to the eldest and largest of Berolla’s progeny—Uziel. We bonded almost as soon as I’d begun the ritual.”
Cora couldn’t help the grimace that tugged her lips. She’d been forced to attempt that ritual herself with Ferrah and had nearly been burned to a crisp.
Ailan’s face fell. “Darius was jealous. He sought to disrupt the ritual by startling my mother’s dragon. He worldwalked in front of me and lifted his chin at Berolla—a disrespectful gesture one should never make to a dragon one has not gained the approval of. Berolla swiped out in a rage but Darius disappeared just in time, leaving me to bear the slash of her talons. Uziel swept me aside before the gash turned fatal, but I was still badly wounded.
“Darius wept pitiful tears, begging for my forgiveness, insisting it had only been a prank to test my bond with Uziel. But the tribunal turned firmly against him once and for all. My mother was finally forced to admit that her son was far more treacherous than she wanted to believe. Giving in to the wisdom of everyone around her, and her love for me, she named me heir and prepared to banish her beloved son, the same way she’d exiled Tristaine.”
Cora remembered Garot explaining Satsara’s attempt. An attempt that failed when Darius realized his mother was trying to weave a ward around him. “He escaped.”
“He did,” Ailan said. “He used his powers to escape to Syrus before her ward was completed. I’m sure you know the rest. Years later he returned to El’Ara, waging war upon the realm to claim his place as Morkaius of El’Ara. He had Syrus’ military strength by then and used his abilities plus the discrepancy of time to constantly barrage our forces. He could worldwalk with entire groups of soldiers at once, then leave and return with more in the blink of an eye. When he needed to retreat and regroup, he could take a week to recover while we had only a day. He was relentless, and his men were armed with iron—the deadliest metal to faekind. Even superficial wounds with iron could be lethal for our fighters, where normally only excessive blood loss, beheading, or voluntary Last Breath could end our lives.”
Cora couldn’t imagine the terror of constant war, yet it did help her understand—at least somewhat—the disdain Fanon had treated her with. Darius had used his abilities in horrifying ways, even before he’d resorted to war. Playing vicious pranks, taking human captives for his own amusement. He certainly wasn’t a glowing endorsement for witches. While she still resented having been treated so cruelly, the Elvyn had no other example to go by. No reason to trust humans or witches when the only ones they’d met had caused harm.
“I’m surprised you don’t blame witches like those in El’Ara do,” Cora said. “You lived alongside them. Welcomed them into the commune. Appointed them as elders to sit beside you. Or was that only because you’d lost your memories?”
“It is true I forgot many details regarding myself and Darius, but I don’t think I could have resented all witches, even if I’d remembered. Witches, fae, non-magical humans…we’re all the same. There is good and evil in all of us, and I don’t think Darius’ heritage as a witch is the reason for his darkness. Maybe my mother was too naive and didn’t try to guide him away from his darker instincts. Maybe Tristaine was responsible for filling his head with blood and violence. Whatever the case, I do hope to change the minds of Fanon and those who share his prejudices. They will need to change if we are to ally our peoples and stand against Darius.”
“Are you anxious about seeing Fanon again?” Cora asked, only to realize what a personal question that was. She continued to cling to a rebellious fire that kept her from wanting to get too close to Ailan. At the same time, she had loved Nalia, and the more they talked, the more Cora was beginning to merge the two identities in her mind.
“I am,” Ailan confessed. “Romantic relationships are hardly my priority, but I can’t help wondering if there’s a future for us. After our most pressing matters are taken care of.”
Cora’s heart softened. “Will he really be so angry that you moved on? He knows it’s been five hundred years for you.”
