Page 108 of Cursed Evermore
“Impressive, isn't it?” Sirril gazed at the battling Fae with awe.
“Yes. And… they have wings,” I answered, my voice soft with quiet adoration.
“All Fae from the ancient bloodlines, like the Bloodsworn, have wings. They are classed as the Eldaar, or Elder Fae in the common tongue.”
“I had no idea there were two types of Fae.”
“Oh, yes, my lady.”
There was so much I didn’t know. So much that captivated me in ways I couldn’t resist. And my curious nature compelled me to find out more. “Why don’t the others have wings?”
“Long before the Great war, the ancient Fae courts underwent a life changing schism. One faction chose to remain pure to the old ways, maintaining their connection to the sky and stars. They kept their wings as symbols of their divine heritage. The other faction chose to sacrifice their wings to gain different powers from the earth and the Fray.”
“Like mages?”
“Yes. It was said they were jealous of the connection mages have with Fray magic. However, over time, both bloodlines became diluted. Thewinged bloodlineslost their wings when the ancient magic became too weak to sustain them. Theearthbound bloodlineshad already given up wings, so dilution affected their other abilities instead. Today, the Fae with wings have them due to the purity of their ancient blood.”
“I never knew the Fae had such a history.” I smiled at myself. “Then again I’m afraid I know very little about them, other than the fact that they look so human.”
“There are vast differences, my lady. They’re taller, stronger, faster. Their muscles denser, bones harder, and their essence allows them to heal from even the deadliest of wounds.”
“Really?”
“Oh yes. A wound that would kill a human might only bruise a Fae.” He gave me a look that suggested he’d witnessed it more times than he could count. “Their senses are sharper too—scent, sight, hearing. And like mine, their ears are pointed to heighten those senses and to feel magic in the air.”
“I’ve heard Galaythia is home to more Fae than any other territory in Vaelthorne.”
“Indeed. The Fae make up the vast majority of the magical realm’s population,” he continued gently. “Though not all are Eldaar. You’ll find hundreds of lesser clans, court-bred nobles, wildbloods, and city-dwellers. In Galaythia, the Fae rule under seven High Houses all descended from ancient elemental bloodlines.”
I leaned forward, intrigued. “High Houses?” In the mortal realm there were just alliances between families in each kingdom, but all answered to King Varis.
“Yes, my lady. House Nightblade, Wolfe’s family, is the royal line that bears the crown. They are bonded to the ancient dragons who once breathed magic into the realm, and are said to be born of starlight and shadows. House Vaelmist are bound to the veil between realms.” He paused, stroking his chin thoughtfully before continuing. “House Sylvaneir commands the forests and beasts. House Duskryn governs the night skies and storms, known for their fierce generals and tempest magic. House Solmyra draws power from light, flame, and the sun itself. House Targyn controls the dead realms and ether planes. And House Elarien rules over water and winter, descended from frost spirits said to have once sung the glaciers into being. They all come together to make up the High Table.”
“That sounds… overwhelming,” I whispered.
“There’s a great deal to take in, but don’t let it trouble you, my Lady. I am at your service should you wish to know more.” He gave a graceful bow.
“Thank you. I appreciate it.” And again, I wondered how much he knew about me.
More sparks flew in the sky, pulling our attention back to Wolfe and his sparring partner. My breath stalled in my chest as I kept my eyes peeled on them, certain one of them was going to die.
“I never tire of watching them train.” The awe in Sirril’s voice amplified, sounding like a proud father watching his children excel. “I’ve been in Lord Nightblade’s service for over two hundred years, but every time I watch him, it feels no different from the first.”
I tore my eyes away from Wolfe again to glare at Sirril. “Over two hundred years?”
“Yes, my Lady. And it has been a great honor. Especially to see Lord Nightblade and Bastian, his second-in-command, training to fight as though they are one.”
“What do you mean, train to fight as though they are one? They look like they’re going to kill each other.”
Sirril laughed, a hearty sound. “Not at all. To fight as one, you need an opponent who can match you in strength. And almost be stronger than you are. When Bastian and Lord Nightblade train, it has to be with everything. That said, they are holding back due to the magical restrictions.”
My mouth dropped. “That’s holding back?” I gazed at Wolfe and Bastian, who were giving blow for blow in perfect synchronicity.
“It is, my lady. They’re used to training every day at different levels. It’s only been since we set sail that they’ve had a break. I imagine they’re preparing for their usual duties because we’ll be home by morning.”
“Wow. And they do this every day?”
Sirril nodded. “No matter the time, they find a way to train. Only exceptional circumstances stop them.”
