Page 11 of A Storm of Fire and Ash
“What happened to myrealparents?” I asked harshly. The word ‘real’ slipped out like venom, and Mother flinched as if I had struck her.
“They promised they would only be a few days behind me…” Mother’s voice trembled, breaking apart with the weight of memory. A single, glistening tear traced a path down her cheek, reflecting the pain etched in her eyes.
I wanted to reach for her, to ease her sorrow, but my body betrayed me. Instead, rage burned hot in my veins, searing me from the inside out. My nails dug crescents into my palms until blood welled at the surface, the sting feeding my fury.
“They were killed, both of them, by King Thrandor.” Her words cracked, but each one cut through me like a blade. “I’m so sorry, Elara.” Her words hung heavy in the air, each word piercing through my heart.
The world titled. My knees threatened to give way as the truth settled over me, heavy and merciless.
Mother’s shoulders shook as she forced herself to meet my eyes. “They didn’t want me telling you any of this. They believed you’d be safer not knowing. But I couldn’t bear another day watching the disappointment cloud your eyes, especially when your gifts had not been bestowed upon you.”
My chest constricted, caught between grief and rage, sorrow and fire. “You never had your mate’s name whispered to you on your eighteenth birthday because, you are not a Mage… and that same cruel fate was why you never received your power when you turned eighteen either.”
None of this was making sense to me.
I hesitated for a moment, then asked, “What type of Fae were my parents?” My voice filled with disappointment.
Mother frowned, her lip quivering as she said, “Royal Fae, Elara. Your father was the true High King of Windaria, chosen not only by blood, but by prophecy. The land itself had marked him, as it has always marked the rightful rulers of Windaria. But Thrandor used dark magic to twist that order, dethroning your father and murdering bothyour parents. You were their only living heir, the child the prophecy foretold. That is why Thrandor wanted you destroyed before your power could awaken. I had no choice but to hide you.”
No, no, no!This couldn’t be happening.
I shook my head fervently as if the very act could banish the weight of her words into thin air.
Mother extended her hand toward me, but I recoiled. The warm tears I had been desperately holding back began to spill down my cheeks.
“You are the rightful heir of Windaria, Elara,” she whispered, her voice laced with urgency and sorrow. “The prophecy still lives in you. The court will know it when your magic rises. No matter how long Thrandor has clung to the throne, the land itself cannot be deceived forever.”
A wave of fury crashed over me, igniting a fire within my veins. I’m the very thing Mages are raised to hate. The very thing I was taught to keep away from. I’ve been lied to my entire life.
“You lied to me?” My voice trembled with rage as the heat of betrayal pulsed through my body. “All this time, you and Father have deceived me?! Suppressed my magic and let me believe I wasn’t good enough?! That I wasn’t worthy?!”
In my fury, I rose suddenly, the chair scraping violently against the ground as it tipped over behind me.
“Elara, please try to understand. I had no choice! I made a promise!” Mother’s voice quivered, desperation etched on her face. “Iridessa, your mother, was my best friend, and she was my Queen. Sylvain, your father, ruled Windaria by right of prophecy. Every generation, the throne passes not just through blood, but through the one born with Windaria’s elemental mark. The land itself chooses its heir. But Thrandor twisted that order with dark magic. He dethroned Sylvain and seized the crown, clinging to itunnaturally for centuries. His reign has always been a corruption. He feared you, Elara—because you are the child the prophecy spoke of. You were born with Windaria’s true blood, and the court’s power will always recognize you over him. That is why he wanted you dead.”
She paused only for a moment, and then continued. “Iridessa understood the danger. So she ordered me to take you to Irongate and hide you, far beyond Thrandor’s reach. That’s when I found your father—”
“You mean Adler,” I spat the name out, laced with venom. The bitterness in my tone bit back at me, a sting I knew I would regret later.
Mother gasped, her eyes wide with hurt and disbelief. “Elara! He is still your father… I am your mother… we have raised you since you were a baby!”
“Except, you aren’t my real parents, are you?!” My voice rose, sharp and filled with anguish. “You both lied to me! For twenty-seven cursed years! How could you do this? Did you suppress my magic with your tonics? Where are my pointed ears?!” My heart ached as I grappled with the reality of my existence, now splintered into chaos.
“Wh-what? No! Not your magic, Elara. I could never betray you like that.” Her voice trembled, a fragile whisper caught between hope and despair. “You just… haven’t received it yet. I was hoping that once I revealed the truth to you, your magic would finally begin to awaken. But… your ears,” she said, swallowing hard, her sorrow palpable in the air around us.
“Ah, yes, the pointed Fae ears. You did take those, didn’t you?” I responded, my tone laced with a mix of sarcasm and resignation.
“I’m so sorry… It’s just a tonic! You can learn to hide them yourself. Please, Elara, forgive us,” she pleaded, her desperation evident as her eyes glistened with unshed tears.
Suddenly, something unholy surged through my body—raw, electric, and far too powerful to contain. It wasn’t just energy; it was like the earth itself had cracked open beneath my skin, releasing a force that had been buried for lifetimes. It coursed through my veins like molten lightning, scorching and freezing at once, as if my blood had turned into a storm of fire and ice.It surged from deep within me, igniting something long dormant, a flicker of potential waiting to be set free.
My knees buckled. I collapsed to the floor with a strangled cry, clutching my temples as the energy clawed at my mind. My thoughts scattered like ashes in the wind. I couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t feel anything but the unbearable pressure building in my chest.
Hot.
Cold.
Darkness.
