“I respected him, certainly. Feared him too. He was very strict. Ours was a complicated relationship.”
I recalled my language tutor who’d mocked my pronunciation and difficulty with grammatical concepts. He’d turned me off from reading for a long time, and I still stumbled when forced to speak publicly.
“And this material is your favorite,” I said, tracing the cool metal with my fingertips.
“Vanadium is like a well-worn tunic. It feels comfortable and right. I’ve worked with it so much that it’s second nature by now.”
“You said that it’s rare. Is it not what your cliffs are made of?”
“No, the Cysgodion Cliffs are a mix of limestone and calcite with quartz threaded throughout. Vanadium can be extracted from iron ore, but only in very small quantities.”
I didn’t know much about geology, though I was interested to learn more. The elvish specialized in mining, weapon-making, and metalwork, and their craftsmanship was beyond reproach.We imported all of our weapons from them, and my own sword was said to have been forged by elvish metalworkers of generations past.
“Tell me about your archers,” I said, for I’d noticed the elite guard that had accompanied him to the palace and were now stationed in varying positions around the deck, all with their arrows nocked and ready to defend their lord.
“My archers are the best in all the realms,” he said, not with arrogance but with pride. “I hold a yearly tournament to scout for new talent and to keep my own squadron sharp. It’s coming up soon. I’ll take you if you’d like. The prize is a metal bow and arrows fashioned by my own hand, as well as a place on my flight.”
“Why archers and not sorcerers?” I asked, for surely an army of metal sorcerers would be formidable indeed.
“I’m afraid you will not like my answer,” he said.
“Tell me anyway.”
“My fortress is defensible against many attacks, the exception being those from the air.”
“To fight the fae army,” I concluded. I glanced back to find him with his head tilted, neither confirming nor denying it.
“They also accompany me on trips such as these where we are less protected. I keep metal sorcerers in my ranks as well.”
“Is your vanadium rod diminished every time you use it?” I asked, wishing to know more about his powers. We fae had the gift of flight, but any sort of sorcery was rare among us.
“I can pull elements from whatever metals are available, but I cannot create something from nothing, which is why I always carry this rod with me. And why I was so displeased with you when you stole it from me.”
Hot shame rose within me at the memory of my first and only spanking by the lord. I was twelve years old at the time, though he’d made me feel much younger. The experience had beenbranded in my mind with a sort of before and after significance. For many moons after that incident, whenever I encountered the first stirrings of sexual arousal, my thoughts would inevitably wander back to that particular punishment. I wasn’t sure what it had meant then, nor what it meant now, only that it had been a defining moment in my sexual awakening.
“You humiliated me,” I said, for that aspect remained sharp in my psyche and ever-tender, like a thorn prick.
“Yes,” he murmured as if recalling a fond memory. His hands moved to encircle my chest in a possessive embrace, one hand reaching up to stroke the column of my throat. I relaxed against him. Was that also a result of the bite?
“Was that your intention?” I asked.
“Not at first, but I didn’t mind it.”
I took a deep breath, wanting to know more but not daring to ask. “I was an ugly crier,” I admitted, recalling that there was both snotanddrool involved, which only heightened my shame.
“Not at all. Your eyes shined like stained glass windows and your lashes were darkened by your tears, red-faced with righteous indignation. Even as a boy, you’ve always had a beautiful pout.”
I was struck silent by his perfect recollection, still ruminating on the word “beautiful” when he said, somewhat off-handedly, “Are you still feeling sick?”
“No. It’s better now.”
“Good. Would you like to know the lore surrounding my cliffs?”
The Cysgodion Cliffs were known for breaking both ships and sailors with their treacherous outcroppings and razorlike switchbacks. They were only navigable by moonlight, which was why we’d had to wait until dusk before setting sail. We were close enough that I could make out the pearly white quartz striated through the pale rock like the way a cut heals into a scar.
When the Goddess Imogen created the Arcane Isles, we were all one kind–even the humans were once our kin–all children of the Goddess Divine. But conflict and petty jealousies divided us. The fae and elvish have a particularly complicated relationship, involving both blood ties and blood feuds.
“The Goddess Imogen split the big island in two due to a bloody civil war,” I said, for it was what all of our templar priests and priestesses taught us. “She created the Lunar Straits to separate both sides and punish them until a compromise could be met, but the people remained divided. The fae had access to the fruits and nectars of the valley, so they retained their gift of flight. The elvish lost their wings but kept their sorcery due to their abundant elemental resources and access to the eternal flame.”
