Page 2 of A Courage of the Chosen

A fierce ache burned where her magic lived.

There was no other choice. If this sacrifice was not made, there would be no future for any of them.

She pressed her lips to her daughter’s forehead, closing her eyes to savor the soft scent of petals that wound through the pale blond of her hair.

Resolve steadied her fingers as she reached for the Craobh Beatha on the ground next to her discarded sword, the magic already performed and bonded to the pendant that her own father had given her on the day she ascended the throne. A gift for bringing their world together under her rule as the first queen of the Seelie.

“This is yours now. You must guard it closely, only you can bear it, unless you give someone permission to do so. But you must never let anyone not of our blood wear it.” She placed the Craobh Beatha into her daughter’s small hands. “Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Mama,” she said, tiny fists forming around the crafted silver. The pendant was as old as the realm itself, its true origin unknown, but the magic that it contained was too powerful, and could never fall into the hands of darkness.

The girl slipped the chain around her neck, the pendant looking much too large against her chest, then threw herself into her mother’s arms, sobs coming in harder now as the end drew near.

“I love you, Mama.”

“I love you too, my sweet. We’ll be together again.”

With a nod of permission, the elderly woman swept in, gently prying her daughter away and carrying her to safety.

Childlike cries echoed through the cavern, lancing through the woman’s chest as she watched the dark cave where they left for a long while. She allowed herself to feel her grief in that time, for everything she had lost.

When she was ready, she drew a single breath, washing away the fear and sadness and anger. There was nothing to be gained from wallowing in it. It did not change what needed to be done.

She slid the dagger free from the halter at her hip and sliced deeply into her palm, painting the grass with the intricate rune-magic she would need.

When she was finished, the air vibrated with a steady thrum. Ready and poised to take her life.

Healed palms outstretched, she drew her power to the surface. Every last drop of it. It cascaded around her in a sudden flash of blinding light as she began chanting the words of the complex magic.

She would draw all the darkness of Elfayne into herself, and seal it away. It could not be eliminated. Doing so would destroy this world she loved nearly as much as her child. Darkness had overpowered the light, and balance needed to be restored. Only she possessed the strength to do it.

“As long as the light remains, the wicked darkness shall never reign.” She uttered the words to no one and everyone.

Her chanting continued, the magic locking inside her and ripping through her soul.

“As long as the light remains, the wicked darkness shall never reign,” she said again. She held onto her fondest memories as the years of her long life appeared behind her closed lids, clear as paintings.

“AS LONG AS THE LIGHT REMAINS, THE WICKED DARKNESS SHALL NEVER REIGN!” She shouted into the void, a reminder that this was their victory. That her life was the price to pay to be reunited with him in the afterlife, to ensure their legacy continued.

She choked on the words of the magic. She must speak every last one of them.

The runes around her glowed a brilliant red, and her throat bled as she screamed and screamed and screamed. The power of the ritual set fire to her veins, every fiber of her being alight as she pulled on the vast strength of her magic.

When it sat beneath the surface, waiting for the moment her power was unleashed, an eerie stillness befell the air. The spirits of nature, gods of old, watched as she pushed her world onto a new path.

Peace washed over her and a small smile curled her mouth.

She was ready.

When the final words had fallen from her lips, her magic tore out. Light and dark swallowed everything, changing the very fabric of Seelie kind. The only dark power that remained would be buried here with her. Only the light and mist would exist.

When she fell to the ground, the price paid, a vision materialized as she slid into the beyond.

It was there she saw that her sacrifice had only bought her people time. Thousands of years from now, the darkness would rise once more, different than before. Stolen and twisted into something entirely monstrous and unnatural that would tip the balance of her people toward the edge of oblivion.

One of her blood, born of two worlds and two powers, would stand against the corruption. The journey would not be easy for this woman with blond hair, green eyes, and a heart burdened with the ache of loss and betrayal, so much like her own.

She would be broken and born anew. She would be tried and tested, and must find the courage to meet her fate.