Before Traburg, there was Axulran. That was all Cateline had known, and all she felt she would ever know.

When she had Alleyn, though, there was a glimmer of hope. There were visions of dragons, ogres, and satyr’s running wild in the wastelands across the bordering mountains of Axulran. Strife was told through the imaginings of war that he saw first hand, rich in history and betrayal.

Without Alleyn, she would know nothing—and, when he disappeared, she accepted that ignorance. With ignorance, she had something to blame for her simply not knowing.

How she yearned to know… With him standing right before her, and her time spent at Lighthelm, she finally felt as if there was a possibility to understand again.

“Alleyn?” she breathed.

“Hi Sprite,” he said quietly. That nickname… she hadn’t heard it in years. This couldn’t be him. When he left, she figured he was dead.

He had this long beard that stopped just about his collarbone, salt and pepper strands scattered over his head and overgrown to his ears. His golden eyes studied hers for a long while, a genuinely sad smile stretching over his aged face. He was older than she had last seen him—but not by much. By the looks of Leolina, elves aged much slower than humans did. Perhaps she would know that if he stuck around to teach her.

“How… where…” Cateline started, her voice trailing off into a small whimper. Tears were dwelling at her eyes, her hands clenched tightly behind her back with nails dug into the meaty palms. “I thought you were dead.”

“Might as well be—I did not come to Traburg as Alleyn, Cateline. Can we take a walk?”

Cateline wanted to say yes so badly. Her heart was guarded, the thought of losing her one and only true friend from back home was too daunting to her. A cowardly thought, one she tried to fight so.

With a quick heartbeat and trembling lip, she realized that this was the ultimate test to face at Lighthelm. It was not Seraphine, nor the magic she failed harnessing so many times before. The idea of welcoming Varin, Aiora, or Thaddius as friends—or, rather, mere acquaintances—was less of an uphill battle compared to this, and more of a walk on the shoreline of Traburg.

Perhaps washing up by the Liverstone family farm was less of a nightmare than facing Alleyn again. Not because she loathed him, and in fact she had never felt so much relief knowing he was alive and well, but the idea of losing him in the strife that was to come?

Torture.

Clearing her throat, she nodded her head and led him out to the courtyard. Most of the scholars were inside by now, some joining together in the mess hall for supper while others tucked away into their quarters early. Regardless, it was quiet.

“What are you doing in Traburg, Cateline?” he asked.

She paused at this, an aching feeling growing in her stomach again. “That is a question I have yet to find the answer to. Regardless, it led me here, Alleyn. Did you know I was a mage?”

Alleyn let out the softest chuckle, his eyes lowering to the ground as he nodded. “Your mother and I both figured, Sprite. I wasn’t there for your birth, but your mother said the physician screamed when you came out with wide, golden eyes.”

“Surely, that was hogwash.”

“Perhaps—that story passed by your father quite easily, at least. The physician was exiled for delusions led by witchcraft later that evening.”

Scoffing, Cateline approached the fountain of runes and took a seat, poking a finger into the water to serve as a distraction. “My father... Do you know what they are saying? The headmistress, Aiora?”

This was when Alleyn fell completely silent. When Cateline looked back at him, she almost expected him to not be there anymore—a mere figment of her imagination—but he was there with this unwavering sullen look.

“Aiora approached me shortly before your quarrel in town, Cateline. She found some letters in my home, ones that would serve as enough evidence to land me on a executioners stone if they were presented to the king of Axulran.”

“What were in the letters?” Cateline asked.

“Declarations of love, of treason, and a tale of caution from Leolina.”

“Declarations of love? With Leolina?”

This was when Alleyn laughed. The type that boomed out into existence from his gut, enough to make her smile in the slightest way. “Not with Leolina. She is a dear friend and ally, and served alongside me in our fight against Axulran during the War of Mimicry. These declarations… were of a royal affair.”

Standing to her feet, Cateline clenched her hands into fists to ease her nerves. “A royal affair?”

Alleyn nodded, a heavy sigh escaping his mouth as he looked around to ensure there was nobody listening before continuing in a low voice. “Your mother, Queen of Axulran, hails from a kingdom that you would never know existed. She was subject to extreme violence as a child, and was rumored to be one of the only survivors of an attack led by the former ruler of Axulran. Airen was no older than ten, mind you, and Emmeline eight. It was an elaborate plan—execute all commoners, royals and noblemen. Leave the most impressionable—leave the one that could serve useful with age.”

Sucking in a breath, Catleine gripped at her abdomen. It was partially to conceal her fright from knowing the torturous experiences her mother had been subjected to, but also to ease the pain from such a volatile reaction. There was something wrong, but there was no time to focus on it now.

Cateline had to know more.

“Which Kingdom? Was it near Axulran?”

“An experienced traveler could get there in a day's time, but it was a coup that went wrong. There was little travel needed when the usurper was right beneath your nose. Your mothers brother, the Duke of a place previously called Lunarskeep, seized the throne and sold information to your grandfather in exchange for political refuge and support during the chaos that would ensue. The former king of Axulran did not oblige, considering there were many elves and mages that sought to destroy the Bennett bloodline.”

“And, my mother? Simply saved, living to see another day in hopes the story would spread across the world?”

He snapped, as if there was a moment of realization. “That is just what they wanted their newest prisoner to think, huh, Sprite? Emmeline was wiser than most, even at her age. When the commanding general brought her back by ship, and they docked in Axulran, she ran into the City of Headaway and stayed there until she could no longer.”

“She was caught.”

“And arranged to marry Airen when they were of age. She would be kept in a nearby political manor, learning how to cook, clean, and act like a proper Axulranion ruler. Shortly before the War of Mimicry took place, prior to her marriage with Airen, she met me.”

And fell in love. An arranged woman falling for another man—an elf—tucked away in the villages of Axulran simply trying to keep his life during the darkest moments of her home’s recent past. “So, that’s it then? You are my blood, not Airen? That is where my magic came from?”

Alleyn lifted a hand up, a stem extending from one of his fingers and blossoming into a gentle, kind looking tulip. His sad eyes observed this gift before it fell limp, the petals disintegrating until there was nothing left to see.

“Yes, Cateline. Your father knew this, too, and kept you hidden as his own little secret. I did not leave because I felt unsafe—not entirely, anyway—I left because I worried he would seek revenge on you if he were to find out more of my affair with Emmeline. Soon enough, he did find out and sent a tormenting blaze of burned letters down on me as a joke. It pained me to leave you and your mother, as I knew he would be the cruelest man alive at the very least.”

There was a moment of silence here, the elven man taking a step closer to Cateline with pleading eyes. When she did not respond, he continued.

“Cateline—your mother, is she quite alright? She did not suffer after I left?”

There were so many nights where she heard sobs. Screams, even, in the heat of arguments and bitter words. “My mother ensured I was sheltered from that, Alleyn. But, I can only assume so. They were not very cordial with one another.”

“And, what about you?”

Cateline turned away from him at this question, walking away from him to create some distance. There was so much pain that resided in her answer. “Alleyn, I would simply fall apart if I gave you that answer. There was so much that happened over my eighteen years in Axulran, and to think I was the only one that suffered from my father’s cruelty would be selfish, to say the least. If you are worried about pain, we have suffered a great deal. If you are worried about wellbeing—well, I can assure you Emmeline learned to adapt.”

Despite Cateline’s attempt to create space, Alleyn approached her and offered a hug. “Cateline, the thought of your suffering brings me anguish. I felt that if I made an attempt to run to create a new life first, and find you after you grew older and began your life, you would be able to one day know the truth. Perhaps it was selfish, and perhaps I should have let Airen execute me for all I had done, but I wanted to be able to see another day. Even if that day existed to only tell you the truth.”

She welcomed this hug without more than a second of delay. A drop finally fled from her tear ducts, trickling down her cheek and coated her lip with the salty taste. “I am glad you did, Alleyn. Truly—but life was terrible without you being there as a guiding hand. I was lost, and I let that state of being consume me.”

“Sprite, I don’t see that. I see a woman who made it to Traburg—in ways that I’ve heard unconventional. I see a mage harnessing their powers, ones that had been stolen from her the second they surfaced. I see a future ruler, one that could squash the reputation Airen and his father had built for the kingdom.”

She let out a sad laugh, shaking her head as she dropped her hands from the hug. “Not so sure I will see that day, Alleyn. I don’t know if Aiora mentioned it to you, or Leolina, but there is chaos to be faced during the evening of the Blood Moon.”

“Leolina has warned me. I assure you, Cateline, I will stand alongside you all and ensure your safety. I have lost you once… it shan’t happen again.”

She finally met his gaze again, something she had been avoiding the entire conversation. He held such a gentle sincerity behind that stare, one that she felt comfort in. Her father—or, rather, her kidnapper—had never encouraged her in the darker moments of her life. And, now that she thought of it, neither did her mother.

So, for once in her life, Cateline trusted. She trusted in Alleyn, in Leolina, and in the capabilities of Varin and Thaddius. More importantly than them, she trusted in her own potential, despite her amateur understanding of what was to come.

“Right, then. We can reconnect more, but that can only happen if you keep your word on protecting me during these trying times.”

Bowing with a mocking smirk, he held out an arm to lead her back inside. “Your Highness, you have a banquet to prepare for.”

Varin did not yet find Thaddius, but that was second on his list. First, he had to reverse his order on Senevia and ensure she was within arms reach during that banquet. At first, Leolina’s decision to keep the Lunarseve Banquet public made his skin crawl. There was a possibility of death and violence, but there was no protection inside Daggernest or Javunger. The paths were littered with deep forests that led to the shore and mountains—an easy, concealed path for any oncoming enemies.

If King Airen truly had his heart on a siege, it would be silly to expect anywhere else as his first target.

As he walked through the city and approached the outskirt farmlands that faced the shores, he noticed large numbers of guards. Some stood post at the entry points to the kingdom, while others walked around with eyes that studied each villager running around. Outside of this anomaly, surely caused by Jaspar’s warning to the royal family, everything seemed normal.

And then, there was the Liverstone farm. Varin approached the door and knocked on it, not a single noise to be heard on the other side. He hated to call the mother a hermit, but she hardly left their grounds unless there was a need. Taking it upon himself to investigate further, Varin went around the back and saw their belongings scattered haphazardly around the yard. There were a few gowns thrown across the porch, while tunics and shoes lay scattered on the grass.

A dark feeling settled in his stomach as he walked to the back door, opening it without another knock and unsheathing his dagger in the meanwhile. There was a cauldron of spiced water boiling over the fire, and when he approached their bedroom he saw it emptied.

Had they abandoned their home? Was there word of possible turmoil in the coming evenings? Regardless, the fact that he had no way to ensure Senevia’s safety was enough to make him feel ill.

And, in fact, that was what he did. He grew ill. Running out to the yard, he leaned over their well and upheaved all of the stresses that had been consuming his soul over the past few weeks. It was such a violent motion that he had to grasp onto the ledge so he did not fall over on his face.

“Sir, are you quite alright?” a voice called for him.

Varin froze, wiping his mouth before standing upright. After clearing his throat, he responded. “I am fine, ma’am. A bit of bad stew, is all.”

“Allright…” the lady said. “I wanted to make sure, as there has been word in the village of a siege.”

Turning on his heel, his eyes widened at the sight. Before him stood a woman, with long black hair that curled at the tips. Her eyes, as blue as the sky on a warm day, and lips as rosy as the meadows in Spring—it couldn’t be.

“Oh, I forgot to introduce myself. I am Lady Adeline Hemmings. Fairly new to town, but set to make a new name for myself. And, you are?”

If there was reason enough to faint, this would be it. Without that clueless, yet mesmerizing stare, he would have shouted that a doppelganger was running loose in the Kingdom.

“Lord Varin Vanderbique, my Lady. Question—you wouldn't know anything about the Liverstone’s whereabouts, would you?”

To keep your enemies close was to win the war. To run and hide was to kill them all.