Page 215 of A Vow of Blood and Tears

Wyn leaned forward, producing a small notebook and pen from her sleeves, and she immediately began jotting notes.

Much of this is based on hearsay, Cirri said firmly, lifting her chin.But with my research, I’ve corroborated the evidence, to a degree that I believe what I’m about to tell you is true.

Visca shifted in her seat, head cocked, eyes narrowed.

I gazed evenly at my bride, imploring her to remain confident.

Cirri licked her lips, swallowed again.You’re all—you, as in vampires—you are the children of Fae. You and wargs are both Fae-born, or Fae-made, descended from common ancestors.

Wyn looked up from her notes, affronted. “Come again?”

Mother Blood. Father Wolf, or Wargyr, as he’s now known. Cirri touched a crumbling scroll.Thurn Hakkon was the one to give me this information, and I’ve found it here. This scroll dates back to the Migration Era of the Fae, prior to the Red Epoch. It took alotof digging to find it.

She glared at it for a moment; so that was where she had spent many late nights.

The scroll contains artifacts of the mythology of that time. Humans thought of certain Fae as gods, but thanks to this document, we know that it’s more likely they were simply avery powerful, influential dyad, rather than actual gods in a pantheon. But I’ve questioned Wyn about Fae creations—Cirri tipped her head to the bloodwitch, and Wyn’s eyes narrowed—and the cities in the Below.

“And I told you that the Fae were great occultists and innovators,” Wyn said slowly, still squinting at her.

Yes. Cirri beamed.They were. And between the two of them, they created two sibling races: the vampires and the wargs.

But the Mother loathed Father Wolf’s vicious, untamed creations, and he thought her vampires too… too staid, too concerned with the trappings of civilization. I haven’t the evidence to pinpoint the exact time, but eventually the two split in a bitter, bloody feud, each taking their favorite children with them.

From what I’ve pieced together, Mother Blood brought her children to Veladar, where the keeps were built, and the early years of the Red Epoch began. They drove out Wargyr during this feud, and created a charm in which to bind wargs, fettering their vicious siblings. The Fae-made creations of Mother Blood ruled for nearly a thousand years, opposed by none.

Visca rubbed her temples. “Fae. I see. And now, if this gets out…”

“Chaos,” Wyn spat. “Madness. I’d give it three days before the Rift-kin started repairing their Arks and sieging the walls, andwe’dbe the tyrants for defending ourselves and slaughtering them.”

Cirri nodded slowly.I can’t speak for the rest of Veladar, but the Fae are no more than fairy tales in Argent. I do believe the Rift-kin might choose to revolt, but… there’s more to tell before you decide.

She gestured to Rose and Thorn. Rose fiddled with a gold earring, and Thorn’s arms were crossed, his faceless glower unseen but felt.

The ancestry of your kind becomes obvious when we look at them. You melded sanguimancy with an ancient golem so easily, Wyn; what else could the blood arts be but an offshoot of the Fae’s occultism?Cirri looked at them fondly.But it was hidden knowledge that nearly ended this country forty years ago. The charm for binding wargs… I still haven’t fully translated it. I’ve been focused on proving the folklore I received from both Miro and Hakkon. But the charm itself was lost in Liliach Daromir’s time, when humans burned the keeps and as much vampire lore as they could get their hands on. So much was lost, not only the binding ritual and blood magics, but the vampires’ own knowledge of their progenitor and creation.

As you told me, Visca… your elders died in that first century of living Below. All knowledge of the High Tongue was lost to your kind. But it was that exact knowledge that kept the wargs at bay until fifty years ago.

“The first Forian invasion,” Wroth murmured, almost to himself. He leaned back, arms crossed in a mirror of Thorn’s pose, almost insouciant, but his pale gaze on Cirri was intent.

The first Forian invasion, in which a young Thurn Hakkon appeared from a backwoods Forian village, and joined King Radomil’s army as a loyal soldier.Cirri’s gaze moved to me, and she smiled slightly; I had provided much of the lore here.Or so it seemed. In truth, he was recruiting for his family’s cult, and he found many willing followers.

She moved around the table, touching another book—the ritual book.It’s in here. Kept hidden in this keep for centuries, and unreadable by any living vampire today. With this, the Forian advancement and Hakkon’s wargs could’ve been stopped.

“That’s why the brambles hated us so,” Wroth said quietly. “I felt their hunger and their hatred—it’s because in some distant way, I am kin to those things.”

To become a fiend is to accept Wargyr’s blessing, in a manner of speaking, Cirri said.I suspect it was his little revenge on Mother Blood, but I’ve found nothing to prove that suspicion yet. But Hakkon told me some of what his family taught him, lore passed through stories for centuries. I believe Wargyr brought his small family when he fled, hiding in the depths of Foria. He told them of Mother Blood, taught them how to complete the ritual, how to dissociate from one’s own evil actions so strongly they could shed their wolf-skins and walk among men again. He also taught them that to spill unwilling blood and tears of agony would break those charms. So… that’s how Hakkon terrorized my people. He did it to ensure wargs could walk freely all across Veladar.

Cirri took a deep breath, her eyes distant.But that’s neither here nor there. What I wanted to tell you is that your kind are from the Fae. And before you made a decision about what to do with that knowledge, I wanted to point out the repercussions of hiding it. If you lose it, as the charm was lost, then one day we may find ourselves in this same situation. If not for sheer luck—

“Determination,” I said, interrupting the translation. “If not for your determination, Cirri.”

She startled, then smiled faintly.If not for determination leavened with luck, then, this charm would have remained lost. I would have died, or been forced to turn warg. Your legions would have been lost, along with the four of you. And Hakkon, or his children, would have spilled back into Veladar. I think it's important that whatever knowledge we have now is preserved and protected.

Wyn nodded, tapping her pen against her notebook. “Preserved, protected, andhidden. I don’t fancy havingmy tower bombarded by catapults. There are very delicate experiments in there.”

This was hidden, Cirri said, resting her hand on the ritual book.And it nearly cost us all.

“But the wargs are dead, and we have the weapon to defeat them.” Visca frowned, torn between them. “I need to measure the likelihood that we’ll be attacked by angry Rift-kin against a nullified threat.”

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