“Thaddeus told me that Lumnara was created by the gods of old. Do the fae believe the same thing?” I asked, turning again.
“We do, in fact?—”
I raised my hand again to silence him.
Another turn.
“And the Celestial Court was the first of the courts?”
“Yes.”
Another turn.
Thaddeus had explained that the other courts were formed over time. That the ancients split off to connect with the Mother, which was how the seasonal courts were formed. But evenifthe new factions of fae had lost their celestial powers because the founding court withheld magic from them as accused, why did they pull the power of their court in the hopes that it might reincarnate in the future? It wasn’t to preserve themselves. No, the ancient celestialssacrificedthemselves and their court to preserve the spark.
Another turn.
But why?
Why not just give the other courts what they wanted? Why save it at all costs? And why in Lumnara would?—
My feet stopped as a terrifying thought rushed through me.
“Caius,” I said slowly. “What would’ve happened to Lumnara had the spark not been preserved?”
He stood, his long strides eating up the distance between us. Stopping a pace before me, his golden hair caught the sun in a way that made it look more like a halo as his large form blotted it out. The High Lord’s expression was taut as we stood there frozen in time, and somehow, I knew this would be another one of those moments I couldn’t return from.
“Caius?” I whispered, both needing and dreading his response.
For once, the deep violet in his eyes was still, as if the storm within was holding its breath too. “Nyleeria, if the spark had not been preserved, then Lumnara as we know it would fail to exist.”
I blinked up at him, the enormity of his statement threatening to crush me from its weight.
“Allow me to explain,” he said, as if it would somehow lighten the burden. “We need the sun to survive, correct?”
Hesitantly, I nodded.
“Now, what would happen if the sun were as close to us as one of our moons?”
Narrowing my eyes at him, I said, “Nothing would survive.”
“Exactly. So, without the sun, we’d die. And without distance from the sun, we’d die.”
“Caius,” I said, patience waning, “speak plainly.”
“I am, Nyleeria,” he said without wavering.
I crossed my arms as he continued. “In this parity, consider the spark the sun, the Celestial Court the distance that protects us, and what would happen to Lumnara should the spark not be contained.”
“But,” I said, “gods only know how long it’s been since the Celestial Court fell and the spark was sent to reincarnate, so in your example, how did Lumnara survive without its sun, as you called it?”
“By the skin of her teeth.” Flexing his hands as if something was wrong, he said, “I can feel her power wane—all of us can. The veil between the human and fae realms is thinner than ever before, and large chunks of land have been dying for generations. In fact, it’s commonly believed that the human realm used to be part of the fae lands, but it lost its magic, and that’s how humans were created. You see, Nyleeria, it’s less that the spark didn’t exist for all of his time and more that she’s been suffocated, like the sun being unable to penetrate a thick layer of ash. Though, in my opinion, I think you’re asking the wrong question.”
I looked at him incredulously. “Okay, Caius, I’ll bite. Whatisthe right question?”
“Now that the sun is as close as the moon,” he began, “what’s to stop us all from burning?”
My breakfast threatened to reappear as understanding hit.
