Page 3 of Eluvonia
I nod, but I don’t relax. I can’t. Not out here.
I shouldn’t even be on this hunt, not really. My father would lose his mind if he knew I was this deep into the wilds, especially with a Dragon lurking nearby.
But he doesn’t get to decide what I do anymore.
I won’t let him.
These hunts are the only thing that make me feel like I matter.
I glance down at my hands, flexing my fingers around the grip of my bow. The callouses along my palms are proof of the hours I’ve spent honing my skill, of the work I’ve put in to make myself useful.
You’d think being the daughter of the Fae rebel leader wouldmean something; that I’d have a place in the fight, but no.
My father keeps me on the outskirts, hidden away, sheltered like some fragile thing that might shatter if exposed to the truth.
I clench my jaw, shoving the thought aside.Now isn’t the time.
“Alright,” Leynard murmurs. “Let’s keep moving.”
He rises smoothly, his steps sure as he moves forward. I follow, staying close, my ears straining for any sign of movement.
The weight of my quiver presses against my back, a comforting presence despite the unease curling in my gut.
We wouldn’t have to do this—these desperate hunts, these long, tense treks through the wilderness—if the Fae still had access to our magic. But thanks to the power-hungry Dragons and their damnable crystals, we lost that ability 3,000 years ago when the Rift of Ages tore the world apart.
That catastrophe changed everything.
The moment we lost our magic, we lost ourselves. Without it, we became nothing—shadows of what we once were, wandering aimlessly through a world that no longer belonged to us.
And the Dragons?
Those greedy, ruthless beasts wasted no time.
They descended upon our cities like vultures, tearing down everything we had built, claiming our lands as their own.
Once, we were powerful. Respected. Feared. Now, we are nothing more than fugitives, scavenging for scraps, cowering in the depths of forests and caves.
Now, the Dragons rule Eluvonia.
And the Fae?
We hide. We survive.
Barely.
A sound breaks the stillness to my left—a rustling, subtle but distinct. My body tenses on instinct.
Leynard stops too, his hand moving automatically to the sword sheathed at his hip. I shift my stance, steadying my bow, my heart thudding a little harder against my ribs.
For a long, breathless second, nothing happens.
Then, a deer steps into view.
I let out a slow breath, my grip easing slightly, though the tension doesn’t fully leave my body. The creature moves cautiously, its tawny coat blending almost perfectly with the dappled shadows cast by the canopy above. It’s beautiful.
Leynard glances at me and gives a subtle nod.
I understand the unspoken command.
