The king interrupted me, resting his hand on mine for a moment, before nodding to Nevander as if giving permission.
Nevander twisted in his seat slightly to face me. “It’s not about you, Nyleeria. Some sentiments remain unspoken between us, even after all these years. You see, what Thaddeus did for us is something that he feels he didtous.” His gaze darted to the king, then settled back on me. “When Thaddeus unleashed the spell, there was a toll, and we became the collateral. Without warning, it violently devoured our life force and thrust it upon Thaddeus. Ten of us went to the outcrop and only three returned. To this day, exactly how Thaddeus saved Tarrin and me remains a mystery. At first, we weren’t even sure if it worked, and the only test for immortality is time. So, we waited. As years accumulated into decades, we remained untouched by Lady Time. Even still, we aren’t sure if the spell’s effects are eternal or not.”
“They didn’t ask to share my fate,” the king said, “to have my burden on their shoulders. I forced it upon them that day, unwittingly, but…” He trailed off, unable to speak his guilt, and I supposed nowords would suffice.
I could feel their sadness. The centuries they’d endured. The uncertainty. It would be an awful fate to be stuck in limbo, waiting for some sort of miracle. Forme.
I looked to Tarrin and Nevander and said, “Then we’re much the same. I, too, find myself entwined in a fate I did not choose.”
Something settled over us in that moment, and I could feel the threads of kinship begin to weave themselves between us.
I raised my glass. “May the fate laid before us be kind—and may we be strong enough if it’s not.”
They raised their glasses, and we drank in silence.
Chapter 13
Etymology of Silence
“That was kind of you,” the king said as we entered the solitude of the training room.
“What was?” I asked, shifting my focus to him.
“Connecting with Tarrin and Nevander the way you did. And how you accepted my past without reservation, or judgment.”
“Do my parents’ deaths make me a monster?”
His brows furrowed. “Of course not.”
“Do you think that lessens my guilt?”
“No,” he said, the word barely audible.
Holding my gaze, he bridged the distance between us with a measured stride, close enough that his scent—sweet, like the forest after rain—enveloped me. He raised his hand to my face, then paused as if unsure or waiting for me to object. A heartbeat later, his fingertips traced the contours of my cheek with a feather-light touch before tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. I stilled, heart racing, as his gaze bore into me with an intensity I wasn’t sure I could weather. Cracking under the weight, I took a small, distancing step out of his touch before turning away and making for the windows on the far side of the room.
Feeling his phantom caress my skin, I forced in a deep breath and focused on the gardens beyond the windows.
Still facing outward, I said, “Why are we in the training room?”
The king came up to my side and waited for me to face him before he conjured a tome from thin air. “Because, you’re going to try your hand at magic today.”
“Really?”I blurted out, completely ignoring what had just happened.
An amused laugh escaped him. “Really. But before we begin, I need to manage your expectations, Nyleeria. The art of spellcraft is a discipline that requires patience above all else. Usually, spell wielders are tutored from early childhood, the ability woven into our lineage. Our power is as much a part of us as our blood. I’m not sure how the spells will react to you, or you to them.” His tone moved away from the familiarity we’d fostered and into a new dynamic—master and student.
“When you sayhow the spells will react to me, you make it sound as if they’re alive.”
“What is life but animated energy?” he asked.
I paused, considering. I supposed he was right.
“Magic is not alive like you and I,” he said. “We’re animated differently, but it has rules, boundaries, and most importantly, choice. Magic can exact a steeper toll at will—such as when I invoked the immortality spell—or disavow you entirely. If you’re fortunate, it will partner with you. You see, magic, of any kind, is akin to a symbiotic relationship.”
“Like it needs us as much as we need it?”
“Exactly. Magic alone cannot take form without someone, or something, to wield it.Weare the conduits that transform raw power into something wholly different. What form it takes depends on what type of conduit you are. The fae, for instance, can transmute power into an elemental embodiment: water, air, fire, and earth. As humans, we transform raw energy through commands—hence the need for spells. But with you, Nyleeria, we’re confronted with aphenomenon we’ve never encountered, from a human, fae, or magical perspective. You’re a new class of conduit, so to speak, and I have no way of knowing how you’ll react to each other. Truthfully, I never expected the map to lead me to a human. As it was ancient fae and their magic that created the spark, you can imagine my surprise when I found that the power had incarnated into you, a human. I still can’t quite comprehend how the fates decided such a thing, but I’m glad of it. All this to say, it’s complicated and we’re traversing uncharted territory.”
As I absorbed the flood of new information, my mind raced, trying to sift and sort through it all.
