Page 59 of The Book of Legends
With my breath coming out in gasps, I face him. “Who am I?”
With an authoritative tone that echoes from up high, the Queen speaks without turning around.
“Bound,” she says. “To a war older than your soul.”
As if she were a deity evaluating her shattered creatures, the moonlight reflects off the Queen's lofty throne.
She looks directly at Kainen and adds, “You want our allegiance. However, you do not come armed. Prophecy and shadows are seen only by a girl who bleeds them, a remorseful dragon restrained, and a sorcerer whose vengeance for a lost kingdom lingers in his blood.”
Kainen clenches his teeth. “Truth is what we bring.”
“Truth doesn’t win wars. Soldiers do.”
Striking a balance between wrath and control, he steps forward. “We must not stand alone; otherwise, Nythia will collapse. The Nightfallen will not be stopped, and we cannot trust the people of Elariya if they cross the River. This is something you are aware of. Therion will let us burn. I meant no harm to Tristan, but he had to be punished for taking matters into his own hands.”
“And you expect me to send my kin into that fire for what? Trust? After what happened on your training grounds?”
Kainen responds, “No,” in a low, unmoving voice. “Hope.”
The term “raw” lingers in the atmosphere. Honest. Unmasked.
Suddenly, her attention turns to me. Her voice dips, enveloping my spine like a cloud of smoke.
“Then what about her? The flaming girl? Is she worth dying for?”
Silence envelops Kainen. His quietude, however, speaks volumes.
I mumble, “Yes,” just before he speaks. “Not because he instructed me to, however. The reason being, I choose to fight in any way I can.”
The monarch gives a single blink. “Selene, you amaze me.”
“I am not a weapon,” I declare while raising my chin. I am not a pawn, either. The idea of being claimed or dominated is not why I'm offering. This is my last resort; I've exhausted all other options. Standing alongside him gives me the power to choose my own destiny, so that's where I stand.
At that moment, Kainen gives me a serious look, and a glint of belief appears in his eyes, like he sees me.
A slow, deliberate exhalation is emitted by the queen. “Thoughtfully,” she remarks. “Three hundred Fae will be sent to the frontier of Nythia. Our troops will be at your disposal for one lunar cycle. After then, however, your flame is required to respond.”
It hurts my heart. “Just how?”
My heart stumbles. “Answer how?”
She smiles, and it’s nothing warm. Just promise and peril.
“With truth.”
We exit the Fae court beneath a sky muted by smoke and ash. The moment we step beyond the threshold, a ring of warriors waits. Their armor glints like obsidian under the dull light, their expressions unreadable. But their eyes?
Their eyes scream judgment.
They don’t need to speak. I already know what they’re thinking: that I’m the reason one of their own bled at Kainen’s feet, that I’m dangerous, or worse—worthless.
Some sneer. Others let their eyes crawl over my body, slow and calculated, like I’m a piece of meat served at a king’s table. Iwish I were in my leather gear. I wish I didn’t feel so... exposed. But it’s not just the dress. It’s me.
I don’t belong here, and they all know it.
Every step I take feels heavier, my legs leaden with shame I didn’t earn but carry anyway. Maybe because part of me believes them. Part of me wonders if they’re right. I’ve brought nothing but chaos to this world. And yet…
“Keep looking at her like that,” Kainen growls, his voice like steel laced with wildfire, “and I’ll show you what it feels like to meet a blade and beg for mercy.”
