Page 159 of Bane of the Wild Hunt

“Mortals cannot look upon the face of the Elisari and preserve their sanity. So it is for your sake I have donned this shroud. It is not a sign of wicked intent or secrecy,” the figure explained in a lilting, melodic accent, but the voice was hollow and ageless. They had said the exact same thing to Pen as if they knew that we would be distrustful of a faceless entity.

The figure was just as Pen had described they would appear to us, and yet, I was still unnerved. I had met many elves from all of the seasonal quadrants but none of them possessed this sort of ethereal element.

“We came to speak with the Sylvan Elves. Or are they and the Elisari one and the same?” Orion asked them.

“And what do you mean that we are…nowhere?” added Helena in discomfort.

The veiled figure was silent for a moment, and I had the impression they were bracing themselves.

“You might call us Sylvan Elves, but that is not a name we gave ourselves. And the dwelling place of my people is not a place you could go,” explained the elf patiently.

“Thank you for agreeing to meet me,” said Riordan, and he put a hand on Orion’s forearm to gently move him out of the way so he could stand in front of us.

The ethereal figure seemed to take a deep breath under their veil, but I did not hear them drawing in any air.

“You seek to destroy an evil that has long plagued the memory of our people. A blight upon our Light that must be eradicated before it Unmakes All,” said the elf, and I almost shuddered in horror at such dire words.

“The Mavaari,” Riordan acknowledged, and the name made the elf visibly tense beneath their white shroud.

I had been learning a little about the history of the Sylvan and their battle with Rian’s ancestors in order to prepare for this meeting. Apparently, the first Sylvan were born when the mere idea of their existence had come to Thea, goddess of light, who cried with wonder and love. Her tears had fallen like stars, and the light of the Sylvan, most cherished children of all the gods, was born.

And then their beloved princess had fallen in love with a monster, the entity known in all worlds as the Destroyer, and when she was exiled for it, many elves went with her. Their Light was removed, and in its place, the Destroyer gifted them with his Shadow, a kernel of which had been passed down through generations to Rian. Death and hunger in his veins. A Scrios. These Sylvan had become servants of the Destroyer and were known as the Dark Constellations. Fallen Elves. The Dark Host. They had a great many names, but the one that they were given by their new master wasMavaari.

I was not sure how much of the lore could be taken as the honest truth, but I was standing beside three demigods who were griffin shifters. I would not discount anything.

“Do not speak that name, Vale King,” hissed the elf, and my whole body shuddered in horror of their ire.

Riordan was far better composed and inclined his head in understanding.

“Are you familiar with Rian DorTìodhlac?” he asked. “Do you know the power he has?”

“We do,” answered the elf with a graceful, forward tilt of their covered head. “We also know that he has acquired a witch who is a powerful Seer.”

“ASeer,” hissed Helena in disbelief.

“Our Light blinds her now, and we could continue to keep her Sight out of the Vale for you,” said the elf.

A generous offer. Although I remembered the emissary telling us there was something the Sylvan wanted, so I knew this aid would not come without a cost.

But what the hell could an ethereal creature like this want from mortals like us?

“I need to know if there is a way to stop Rian. I will kill him if I need to, but I would be content with a way to keep him out of the Vale,” Riordan admitted.

The elf was quiet for a moment, and I wasn’t sure how, but I had the sense that they were receiving some kind of communication. Perhaps they could speak mind to mind the way I could with my mate.

“Only Light can drive out Shadow, and our Light is no longer the force that was once shaped and bequeathed in weapons of immense power to worthy mortals. You will not overcome his magic. It is something we must do.”

I almost blurted out my astonishment that they were willing to kill our enemy for us. They would provide us protection againsthis Seerandkill him? It seemed rather strange to me, firstly, that such otherworldly creatures would take any interest in the affairs of mortals. And even if Rian did have a dark power that they had once battled, he could hardly reach them to use it against the Sylvan. And secondly, if they wanted him dead so badly, then why would they not just do it? Why wait for us? Why waste their energy making a deal to provide us with their aid?

“My emissary said you wanted something from me,” said Riordan, as if he were reading my thoughts.

The veiled head dipped forward in graceful assent.

“There is another even more troubling than the Scrios. A Light Wraith rides with the Wild Hunt,” said the elf, their voice growing colder.

“And what is a Light Wraith?” I asked.

“A creature more offensive than the Scrios. A Fallen who has retained fractured Light magic. Such power was not meant to be wielded outside of the stars,” said the elf, their shoulders straightening. “Bring us the Light Wraith for our purposes, and we will ensure your kingdom is safe from the Spawn of the Dark One.”

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