Page 97 of Mountains of Mist and Magic

“Renya?” he croaked.

“She's fine now, Phillippe. It looked like a manticore got her—but her wounds are closed. Everyone on the beach is flabbergasted.”

“I have no clue what flabbergasted means, but I'm guessing it's what I'm feeling too.” He flexed his fingers, feeling the residual pain. But this time, no magic came forth.

But it didn't matter. He chose love—and he would choose it again and again. Esmeralda was his future—and he would cherish her until the day he drew his last breath.

Chapter Forty-Eight

Renya's breath caught in her throat. In mere minutes, she'd experienced a whirlwind of emotions, both internally and through her bond with Grayden. His anguish had made her heart sink. The moment she'd pried into his mind, she'd witnessed the crushing scene: Esmeralda lying lifeless on the beach, her chest torn apart, with Triston cradling her body. Blood spattered the sand, staining it a deep crimson. Bile rose in Renya's throat, and she swallowed hard, grateful she hadn't been there to witness it firsthand.

But in the next instant, Esmeralda's wounds knitted closed, her blood disappearing into the sand as if it had never been there. Their friends on the beach stood frozen, mouths agape, unable to comprehend what had transpired.

It's okay, Grayden. We've made it right—but it's not my tale to tell.

Are you okay?His voice echoed in her head, laced with panic.

Yes. We're here—but I must go.

Renya blinked, forcing herself to refocus on the surreal scene before her. The first fae stood mere feet away, her presence both awe-inspiring and terrifying. Questions swirled in Renya's mind, each clamoring for attention: Who was she? Had she been on this mountain all along? What happened to the Sun Realm God? Why was the magic taken in the first place?

The first fae's lips curved into a knowing smile. “Your curiosity radiates from you like heat from the sun,” she observed, her voice as melodious as wind chimes. “Fear not, for I shall quench your thirst for knowledge.”

Renya glanced around, grounding herself in her surroundings. Phillippe now sat upright, his chest rising and falling steadily. Selenia, though still pale, had set her jaw in determination. The air around them crackled with anticipation.

Renya squared her shoulders and met the first fae's gaze. “We're ready to hear your tale.”

The first fae nodded, her eyes carrying the weight of centuries. “In the dawn of time, fae were birthed from the desires of the Gods. At first, we were but a handful, precious creations to bring joy to our makers. As eons passed, every kingdom, land, and realm became sanctuary to the God of its elements, with fae as their cherished subjects.”

Her voice took on a wistful quality. “The Gods, in their benevolence, bestowed upon us magic that nearly rivaled their own. For centuries, harmony reigned supreme. But as with all things, this peace was not destined to last.” Her expression darkened. “Discontent festered in the hearts of some fae, their thirst for power insatiable. Kingdoms that once stood united began to clash, and the foundations of our world trembled.”

Phillippe leaned forward; his brow furrowed. “Is that why the Gods abandoned us?”

The first fae's gaze fell upon him, sharp and assessing. “Indeed, young winter child. The Gods, disillusioned with their creations, sought another world untouched by the taint of greed and ambition. Some, in their wrath, laid waste to their kingdoms, leaving naught but ash and ruin. Others simply stripped away the magic they had given, abandoning their subjects to the harsh realities of a world without divine protection.”

Renya's heart clenched at the thought of such betrayal. “But not all the Gods were so cruel, were they?” she asked, sensing there was more to the story.

The first fae's eyes softened as they met Renya's. “Your intuition serves you well. The Sun Realm God, unlike his brethren, found his heart entangled with one of his creations.” She placed a hand over her heart. “I am Hydrenia, the first Fae of the Sun Realm, and the object of a God's affection.”

Selenia gasped. “Then it was you who left the prophecies?”

“Indeed,” Hydrenia confirmed. “The Sun Realm God's fondness for me left him sympathetic to the fae's plight. While his counterparts departed with haste, he lingered, determined that all should not be lost.” Her voice wavered slightly. “Though his love for me burned as bright as the sun itself, he could not take me with him, nor could he remain in this realm. The reasons elude me still.”

Renya felt a lump form in her throat. “What did he do?”

Hydrenia gestured to the shimmering pool beside her. “He forged this reflecting pool, a bridge between worlds. Through it, I could maintain my powers and our connection. Yet,” her voice dropped to a whisper, “it has been many years since I last gazed upon his face.”

The weight of Hydrenia's loneliness settled over them like a heavy cloak. Renya's eyes stung with unshed tears, while Phillippe shifted uncomfortably, his gaze fixed on the pool rather than meeting Hydrenia's eyes.

“But what of the magic?” Phillippe blurted out, his words tinged with impatience. “I thought there was a way to restore it?”

Hydrenia's lips twitched in amusement. “Patience, Phillippe Snowden. Your fervor belies your icy heritage.”

Selenia snorted, earning a glare from Phillippe.

Unperturbed, Hydrenia continued. “The God of the Sun Realm, in his wisdom, scattered clues throughout the fae kingdoms. These breadcrumbs, if you will, would lead the worthy to this sacred place—the key to restoring what was lost. But success would require cooperation among the kingdoms, a test to prove the fae deserving of such power once more.”

Understanding dawned on Renya. “The trials...the Sun Realm Scrolls...it was all part of the test?”

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