Emylia strode past him, burning him with a sneer on her way. With exaggerated moves, she pulled out the chair and planted herself onto it. Meanwhile, Desmond took a seat at the edge of the bed, elbows perched on his knees. One of his legs began to shake as he watched her. His steely expression cracked, revealing something softer. More anxious perhaps.
Emylia shrugged off her cloak and let it fall over the back of her chair. The candlelight glinted off a crystal she wore around her neck. It was wrapped in gold wire and strung from a chain. Even in the shadowed haze of the memory, Teryn knew this was the very same crystal his ethera was tethered to now.
Removing the chain from around her neck, Emylia set the crystal on the desk and cupped her palms around it.
Desmond’s leg stopped shaking as his gaze landed on her hands. “What is that?”
“It helps me channel. It belonged to my mother when she was alive. She was a Priestess of Zaras.”
His expression softened further. “Your mother died?”
“My birth killed her,” she said stiffly. “Now, what is it you want to know?”
Desmond took a deep breath. “How do I get to the realm of the fae?”
Emylia rolled her eyes, a disbelieving smirk tugging a corner of her lips. Then, with a resigned sigh, she closed her eyes and settled into her seat, her body growing more and more relaxed as she breathed deeply. After several long moments, she spoke, her voice deep and even. “Show me the realm of the fae.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“I know,” she said, tone calm. “Before I can ask how to get there, I must first see that it exists.”
Desmond looked like he wanted to argue but remained silent.
Movement fluttered beneath Emylia’s closed eyelids.
Desmond leaned closer, and Teryn found himself doing the same. Teryn didn’t know much about fae lore, but he’d certainly never heard anyone refer to the fae as having belonged to another realm. Faerytales suggested fae creatures—unicorns, pixies, dragons, sprites—had lived long ago, along with two races of High Fae: the Elvyn and Faeryn. They were said to have inhabited the land once known as Lela—the land that was now divided into Menah, Selay, and Khero. All stories told that every kind of fae went extinct over five hundred years ago.
Teryn hadn’t believed there was any truth to such tales. Not until he saw a unicorn with his own eyes. Learned magic was real. Confronted a blood mage who claimed to be an Elvyn prince.
The seer repeated her request. “Show me the realm of the fae.”
A weighted silence fell over the room. Teryn folded his arms to keep from fidgeting.
Finally, she spoke again.
“The fae realms are many. They are here but not here. Layered upon this world. Parallel, but on separate planes.”
Her eyes flew open, and she dropped her crystal to the surface of the table. “The fae are real,” she muttered. Then, shifting in her seat to face Desmond, she said it again. “The fae arereal.”
His lips curled with the slightest hint of amusement, but he quickly steeled it behind an icy mask. “Yes, but how do I get to their realm?”
Emylia rose from her chair and began pacing the room. “I saw…many realms. There isn’t just one. Fae of different races and species exist on parallel planes. I can’t ask to see how to get to your particular realm unless I know more about it.” She halted before Desmond. “What is the name of the realm you seek?”
He pursed his lips. “I can't say.”
She propped her hands on her hips and stared down at him. “I can’t be of any help if you keep vital information from me. Honestly, I’m surprised I saw as much as I did, considering my skepticism. But what I’m seeing is taking me in too many different directions. I need to know the name of the realm if I am to see any more answers.”
Desmond threw his head back with a frustrated growl. “I can’t tell you because I don’t know.”
She arched a brow. “You don’t know?”
He stood and brushed past her toward the desk, planting his hands on its surface. His head hung low, sending his dark hair over his face. “My father sent me. He’s the one looking for the fae realm, not me. He’s its rightful heir, and I’m simply trying to return him to his throne.”
Teryn’s eyes widened. Desmond’s talk of fae heirs and blood rights reminded him too much of Morkai. Could Desmond’s father be…Morkai? While the sorcerer had looked only a handful of years older than Teryn, he was willing to entertain the possibility that he’d been old enough to sire this young man. If Morkai was truly Elvyn, he could have been ageless.
Emylia snorted a laugh. “Your father is the heir to a fae realm?”
His cheeks flushed. “I’m not joking, acolyte.”
