Page 1 of Magic Undaunted

Prologue

Chapter

One

ELYRIA

Chambers of the Fae High Council

Celestia, Fae Realm

One Year Ago

The Fae High Council Chambers in Celestia, the shining capitol of the fae realm, had always been a place of reverence for Elyria. The hall was carved from living crystal, the walls shimmering with every color of the twilight sky. Pillars of pure light rose from the floor, casting soft, shifting shadows that danced like restless spirits across the ground. Above her, the ceiling was a vast dome of starlight, where constellations moved in strange, unknowable patterns, veins of glowing silver pulsing like the lifeblood of the realm itself.

Elyria stood in the center of the room, feeling both insignificant and defiant. Her armor, once a proud testament to her centuries of service as a fae warrior, had been stripped from her, and her wings gleamed faintly in the ethereal light. Her pink-tinged silver hair hung loose around her face, stirred occasionally by a faint breeze.

She was aware of the subtle change in herself, a darkness that clung to her like a shadow. It wasn't her fault. She hadn’t chosen this fate. The mortal wolf-shifter had claimed her, forcing a bond upon her she hadn’t wanted. Still, it was a mark that the fae could not—and would not—overlook.

At the far end of the chamber, the Fae High Council sat upon their thrones, each one as imposing as the fae lords themselves. Their faces, normally aloof, now seemed colder, harder. Elyria felt the weight of their judgment, but she stood firm, her hands clenched tightly at her sides.

The head of the Council, a regal fae with a crown of silver flames and eyes that glowed like the sun at dusk, rose. His voice rang out, cold and authoritative, echoing in the vast chamber.

“Elyria Knightshade, once a warrior of Celestia, you stand here accused of being claimed and tainted by a mortal. The wolf-shifter's mark upon you is undeniable, and it festers in your very essence. You are unclean and an abomination in our eyes.”

Her throat tightened as she spoke, her voice trembling despite her efforts to remain strong. “I didn’t choose this,” she argued. “I fought against him, but he was too strong, and he’d had me stripped of my magic. He forced the claim on me.”

The plea fell on deaf ears. A tall fae with skin like moonlight and eyes of endless blue responded, his disdain unmistakable. “Choice is irrelevant. The taint exists. You are no longer pure. You no longer belong to our realm.”

Elyria’s heart pounded in her chest, her anger rising. How could they dismiss her so easily? After everything she had done for them, for Celestia?

“I have served this realm for centuries. I’ve shed blood for our people, and now you cast me aside because of something I couldn’t control?”

Another council member, her voice soft but no less damning, cut through the air like a blade. “The integrity of Celestia andthe blood of the fae must be preserved. You are a danger to our world, Elyria, no matter how unwillingly this bond was forged.”

Her pulse roared in her ears. Elyria fought to steady her breathing, her hands shaking with rage. They didn’t care. They didn’t care that she hadn’t wanted any of this. In their eyes, she was tainted. Corrupted. A threat to the purity of their world.

The head councilor raised a hand, silencing any further argument. His eyes bore into her, final and unyielding. “Your service is not forgotten, but it does not absolve you. You are now tainted by the mortal realm, by its chaos and impurity. Our laws are clear. You are banished from Celestia.”

The words hit her like a physical blow. Before she could protest, a pulse of sharp energy swept through the chamber. The crystalline walls seemed to hum in response, and she felt the Council’s magic begin to gather around her. Tendrils of shimmering light wrapped around her, binding her in place. Pain flared through her body, as if the very essence of Celestia was rejecting her.

Elyria gasped, struggling against the burning magic, but there was no escape. She could feel the bond to her realm, the magic she had always drawn strength from, being severed. Her wings flickered with fading light, the once-brilliant glow dimming as the connection shattered.

Tears of rage and helplessness filled her eyes as she stared at the Council, her voice barely more than a whisper. “You’re wrong.”

But they had already turned away, their gazes cold and dismissive. To them, she no longer existed.

With one final pulse of energy, the light enveloping her flashed, and in an instant, Elyria Knightshade was gone—banished from the realm she had once sworn to protect, cast out into the mortal world, where the mark of the wolf-shifter would forever stain her soul.

St. Piran’s Abbey

Cornwall, England

Six Months Ago

Elyria stood tall on the wind-battered ramparts of St. Piran’s Abbey, her form stark against the storm that raged around the ancient fortress, her gaze locked on the horizon where the ocean met the sky. The wind whipped around her, tugging at the folds of her robe, but she remained unmoved, as if she were one with the elements, a part of the storm itself.

The abbey’s stone walls, worn by centuries of wind and rain, rose up around her, dark and resolute against the violent storm. Beneath her feet, the rock seemed to tremble as the sea crashed against the jagged cliffs far below. The sight of the crumbling human architecture was so different from the ethereal beauty of her kind, a reminder of how fragile this mortal world truly was.

---