Chapter 3
Note—The Eternal Age:
As a result of the magickal essence, all faeries and demons enter into the Eternal Age of immortality between the fourteenth and seventeenth birth year. It is my belief that through the essence’s bond with the land and its creatures, faeries and demons are gifted prolonged life with the responsibility of nurturing and caring for the Magicklands.
While the Eternal Age is a promise of immortality, death may still claim a being impacted by violence, injury, or sickness. Even so, most faeries and demons do not experience such blights for decades upon decades. In comparison to a human’s average seventy-ninety years of life, a faerie or demon may live a late three hundred to four hundred years.
Although humans do not experience the Eternal Age, extended youth and vitality may be given to sorcerers, witches, or alchemists who practice, study, or tamper with magick. It is unclear whether halfbloods would share a similar experience. —Ev.
—Passage of Research
Balance of the Realms, Vol. I
***
At some point during the party, I discussed the mystery of the spell trail with the Scouts for a bit, for they had also been spending a considerable amount of their reconnaissance doing research and looking for answers. We’d already pondered over various texts and books—some medicinal, some agricultural. Sienna had even been given a report from a mining expedition in the mountains.
We’d cross-referenced every known spell close enough to the trail elements we already knew about, but the closest thing we came up with was a ritual site protection spell, meant to fortify and sustain areas dedicated to the Spirits. It was one of the only prominently upheld spells of our time, with most of the others either lost or forgotten. If the Akian army planned to use that spell, what were they protecting? And if they weren’t, what else were they looking for, and would it reveal their true intentions?
“I read a couple excerpts that cited Balance of the Realms, but it was all rewrites and analyses of Katori Evangeline’s work. Spirits, I would give anything to read the actual thing,” I droned. Katori Evangeline worked side by side with Raelia Goldwing, the Spirit of Light and Life. She wrote direct accounts of some of the most important events in the history of the Crescent; all recorded in two volumes of Balance of the Realms. The first one was kept safely preserved in a location only the royal court knew about, and the second had been missing since the end of the Great Reign nearly three centuries ago.
“We should let it rest,” Soji said, swishing her wine around in her glass. “The answers will present themselves one way or another.”
Lance stirred me from my mood and asked me to dance with him. I obliged, though all of our previous questions pestered my mind like buzzing bees. We swayed silently for a while, but I couldn’t help the nervous giggles that bubbled up from my chest. That wine must have been very strong. I clung to Lance, and he held me tightly, trying and failing at suppressing his own laughter. I came to the conclusion that it might just be the best feeling in the world, laughter.
I didn’t want any of this to end. I didn’t want to walk out of Summer’s Edge and go back to training and fighting, though I loved protecting my people and keeping them safe from the demons. I wanted to be here; dancing and eating and laughing. Forever. Things were changing in this magickal world of ours.
The demon’s voice from earlier today echoed in my head: ‘Darkness lurks in this land’. Indeed, and my squad and I, along with the Elites and the might of the Fay Human Alliance, would be the ones to vanquish it. I could not decide whether I should be excited or scared.
With my head resting on Lance’s shoulder and the sound of Toven’s pride-filled voice gracing the room in delighted cheers, I looked out the window to the dark ocean waves glimmering under the moonlight and stars. A feeling of dread crept into my belly, but I quickly pushed it away and kept dancing.
⇼
It was well on its way to afternoon by the time I woke the next day. A brutal headache clawed at my temples as soon as I opened my eyes to the warm rays of sunlight floating through my curtains. Eager chatter sounded from the hallway. I grumbled and pulled my pillow over my head.
The remainder of our night at Summer’s Edge had been nothing but a blur of everything I love in this world… and maybe some excessive drinking. After what felt like my fourth dance with Lance, I vaguely remembered Sienna handing me a second glass of wine. Despite being the lightweight that I was, it did not stop me from grabbing Toven’s wrists and spinning her around to the beat of the music.
At one point, I caught Toven ogling over a tall Fay male, and from the look of it, he had been doing the same. Needless to say, Sienna, Soji, and I had shoved her in the right direction, and minutes later she and the husky male had stumbled out of the pub. I barely remembered the walk home.
It had been fun. It had been bliss.
A knock sounded at my door. I groaned. Fighting the urge to fall back asleep, I swung my legs over the side of my bed and stood just as Lance cracked the door open an inch.
“Can I come in?”
I quickly pulled on a silk robe to conceal the thin undershorts and loose top I slept in. “Yes, come in,” I answered. The room was thick with humidity from the morning air, and it would only get hotter in here throughout the day—or what was left of it.
Lance stepped inside and closed the door behind him. “Are you ready to g—oh, did you just wake up?”
I rubbed my hands over my face and instead began rummaging through the small closet that occupied the space next to my bathroom door. Lance took my silence as answer enough, but then my brain finally processed his previous question and stopped me in my tracks.
“Wait, where are we going?” I asked.
I couldn’t help but notice that he was fully dressed in his newly cleaned combat clothes. Tan cargo pants, leather boots, and a dusky brown neckerchief. A light gray, long-sleeved tunic pressed nicely against his muscled shoulders, and his short sword was secured firmly in its sheath by a buckled strap that stretched across his back. He hadn’t had it with him in the battle yesterday, only the combat knives he kept strapped to his thigh and ankle. It had worried me, but his quick maneuvers and precise blows had dissipated that fear in minutes.
Lance scratched the back of his neck self-consciously while I looked him over. “We need to give our report to Captain Burke from the ambush yesterday.”
“Shit.”
I’d completely forgotten. Burke typically tried not to send us on missions within the days we had personal celebrations or obligations. Now, we no longer had the luxury of requesting such leisure. The invasions were becoming frequent, and Burke insisted that our team was one of the most efficient in handling it. “I’m sorry, Lance. Give me five minutes and I’ll be ready.”
“Don’t sweat it. Last night was pretty… hectic.”
Quite an understatement. I let out a huff of laughter as I picked out a clean tunic and breeches before heading to the washroom. I slid the wooden door mostly shut, leaving it open an inch so I could continue chatting with Lance as I dressed.
“You had fun though, right?” he asked, leaning against the wall outside.
I couldn’t help the heat that crept up my neck. “Yes. I had a lot of fun.” I thought about the dancing. The cool nighttime breeze that caressed my cheeks as Lance and I swayed and twirled about the pub. The shivers that skittered down my arms as he held me, my skirts flaring out like an emerald flower in full bloom. The rest had been a blissful haze, but I could not complain.
Our conversation slipped away, and I heard Lance shift awkwardly outside the door. I hurriedly pulled on my clothes and ran my hands through my tangled locks of hair. I would have to take a comb to it later. I sidestepped over a pile of freshly cleaned towels stacked nicely on the floor, but my shoulder nicked the hook fastened to the wall where I hung my dagger sheaths. The belt and my daggers fell to the floor, and I jumped back with a yelp.
“Everything alright in there?” Lance crowed from the doorway. He was still leaning against the wall with his back to me, but I could hear the amusement in his voice.
“My five minutes isn’t up yet,” I stuttered.
“The clock is ticking.”
I rolled my eyes, picking up my belt and fastening it across my waist. My fingers traced over the fine leather, and I drew each of my blades to make sure I hadn’t damaged anything, silently scolding myself for my clumsiness.
Each of the living quarters at Faylis Manor was no bigger than a dorm room at Ravenscourt Academy—the most esteemed university on the Crescent. I enjoyed the small space; it felt cozy and was easy to keep clean. And I would have chosen it over attending university any day, though Toven’s parents would have had no problems getting us in.
A square mirror hung on the wall next to my belt hook. I subconsciously hesitated to look into it, fearing my disheveled appearance. That was the reason I gave myself, anyway. Dark circles rimmed my eyes, and a small red spot had formed along my jaw. With a twirl of my finger, I imagined a trickle of light drifting over the blemish, absorbing into my pale skin with no more than a tickle. A spark of light bloomed for a second at my fingertip, but disappeared as if repelled by my own skin. My gaze skipped over the black whorls and lines of my demon mark.
Healers could not heal themselves.
It was a critical part of the balance of magick in our world. Despite being the rarity that we were, a healer’s gifts were not to be taken for granted. On top of the Eternal Age, a healer that could heal herself would be immortal.
I was still a halfblood Always an outlier to the Magicklands’ principles. But I trusted our essence, and I trusted spirits like Katori Raelia for making it so.
I finally slid the door open and stepped out, posing with my hands on my hips.
Lance stood up straight and stretched his neck. His movements were slow and dramatic and he pretended to wince, yet his blue eyes lit up like last night’s moon as he said, “Not too shabby.”
At that, I gave him a playful punch on the shoulder. He barely flinched. Before I could forget, I found the satchel I had left at the foot of my bed last night and slung it over my shoulder. Like Lance had forgone his short sword yesterday, I’d forgotten my satchel. But since it held various bundles of herbs and healer’s supplies for emergencies, I was keen on taking it everywhere with me, even when we weren’t on missions.
On my tiny oak nightstand sat my Faylis badge; a golden pin depicting the eye of a serpent with an arrow piercing straight up through it as if summoned by the stars themselves. The emblem of the Faylis Elites. I held the smooth piece of metal between my fingers, my thumb passing over the plane where my initials were inscribed. It was a symbol of honor, and one of power. A rush of determination coursed through me, and I clenched my fist, breathing deeply.
Justice is coming for them. Be patient, a voice whispered in the back of my mind. So, I pinned the badge to my tunic just above my heart and pulled on my brown leather boots.
Lance and I walked together down the long hallways of the stronghold. It had grown considerably silent, save for the occasional servant or maid scurrying here and there. I assumed most of the squads had already gone out on the beaches or to the ring for training. We approached a railing that overlooked the common room, where most of us gathered to exchange intel or converse with one another.
I spotted Soji stretching with a couple other spies. She was currently standing over a brown-haired Fay female and pushing her extended leg as far as her muscles allowed. Soji waved at us with a free hand as we descended the stairs. Across the room, Sienna lounged on a cushioned couch with her feet propped up on one of the arms.
Multiple desks and chairs were scattered around the perimeter of the room, occupied by younger Elites who doubled their service to Faylis with their studies. A memory flashed into my mind of a time when Toven and I would spend hours at those very desks. While she poured over poisons research and handling techniques, I had my head buried in historic texts, memorizing herbs and poultices and learning how to coax my magick through any type of living body. Ingraining the few available translations and versions of Balance of the Realms into my mind.
The thought brought a smile to my lips. I nudged Sienna’s feet off the armrest of the couch and perched on it. “Any word from Toven?”
Sienna chewed the inside of her cheek and closed her book. “Nothing yet, but I assume she’ll be back before nightfall at the latest.”
“Only over Utenki’s holy grave would she be that late,” Lance asserted.
“Let her have her fun,” I said, tying my back loosely. “Lance and I are giving Burke the debrief now. We can fill Toven in when she gets back.”
Sienna nodded and returned to her book. “I’ll keep an eye out for her.”
Soji and the group of spies finished their stretching routine and left out the polished oakwood doors that marked the main entrance to the manor. Lance and I headed in the opposite direction.
I turned back to Sienna, “You’re not going with them?”
“Hey, Toven’s not here to hound us about training. I plan on taking advantage of that,” Sienna replied, kicking her feet back onto the couch.
I winked. “Savor it.” It won’t last for long.
Osran Burke’s office just might have been the most spotless room I had ever set foot in. The room never seemed to change, I thought, as Lance and I stepped inside. Paintings of all different origins hung on the walls on both sides of the doorway. Some captured glorious battle scenes and heroic adventures of past Elites and captains, while others sat reverently between faded lamplights, their colors accented by spotlights no matter the time of day. My gaze caught on to one of them; a portrait of Katori Lonoma, the Spirit of Summer and Sun, her golden brown hair lush and sprouting with wildflowers. A white rose bloomed from her palms. Had she known she would one day become the spirit of her namesake, of the sun sister who’d gambled on a dream of our realm? And even more pressing, was she disappointed in us?
The only pieces of furniture in the room were the bookshelves scaling the wall to my left, and Osran’s pristine desk and leather chair. I took note of the papers and parchments stacked neatly on one end of the desk, his pens and quills lined up on the other. Thin vines of ivy snaked invasively up the legs of the table—I found it oddly beautiful. The place reminded me of an ancient temple or archive. It used to be a privilege to stand here. These days, it was anything but irregular.
We waited for a couple of minutes in silence, but Burke did not appear. A small archway interrupted the other side of the room, leading into Burke’s quarters. If he wasn’t here, he’d most likely be there.
A bronze set of windchimes dangled from a hook just above the entryway. The metallic pieces were carved into the shape of soaring birds, while the translucent thread they were strung by made them appear to be suspended in mid-air. I stayed by the doorway where we had entered and watched Lance walk behind the captain’s desk and peer out the window, which had been constructed in floor-to-ceiling fashion and overlooked the training ring on the beach. Lance rested his head against the glass. He was eager to get outside.
“The town will be busy today,” he said, his voice low, as if trying not to disturb someone.
“I would say we should get there early if we want to get the best picks, but clearly I’ve botched that opportunity.”
A chuckle escaped him, and he pulled one of his knives from its sheath, flipping it with effortless skill and catching it once more as he returned back to my side. “It's Sandsa, Brinley, there’s no such thing as bad pickings.”
“Perhaps not.”
Burke appeared under the archway. His black hair was combed back, badge glinting in the window reflection. “Captain,” we said simultaneously as we pressed our fists against our chests in salute.
Burke dismissed our formal gestures with a wave of his hand and took his seat behind the desk. A stiff breeze followed his footsteps—though none of the windows were open—and the windchimes clinked together like a peaceful chorus of songbells. “Miss Ashryn, Mister Coghley. The Scouts tell me you lot had an entertaining night.”
I straightened, refusing to meet Lance’s gaze and wondering if we were about to be scolded. “Yes sir, it was… lively.”
“A nice break, given the arising circumstances,” Lance added.
Burke nodded and fiddled with one of his quills, an eagle feather by the look of it. “I am glad you all had a nice time. Please give Toven my regards when she returns.” The captain was stern and serious, but not displeased.
I swallowed my relief. “Of course, sir.” How did he know Toven hadn’t arrived home yet? My money was on Sienna, considering the spies were quick to relay information to Burke. Quicker than Lance and me, obviously.
Captain Burke leaned back in his chair and ran a calloused hand over his stubble. “Let’s hear it, then.”
I stepped forward. “Captain, there was a bigger unit of them this time; I counted eight. This is the farthest we’ve found them from the Gate since the invasions started.”
“How far from the last outpost?”
“At least two miles. I don’t know how they managed to get past the post without confrontation, but if they could do it there, we have to assume they can do it anywhere.”
Burke asked, “If this is true and they possess the ability to trespass unseen, then why haven't they used it before? And why start now?”
“Strategy?” Lance suggested.
I shook my head and contemplated the question. If the demons were capable of remaining hidden using some form of magick, then they would have used it to remain that way until they reached their destination. At least, until they reached a place where they could unleash maximum destruction. Instead, they had revealed themselves somewhere between the Gate outpost and Sandsa, where one of the native fairfolk had spotted them. The poor sprite had run through the forest all the way back to Faylis to warn Burke. Our squad had found the monsters scouring a nearby valley an hour later.
Lance shifted uneasily as he and Burke waited for my response. I clasped my hands behind my back. “If they did have access to that kind of power, they wouldn’t have given it away that easily. To be invisible one second, and then caught in the open not even an hour later? It doesn’t make sense,” I concluded.
Lance sniffed. “So, you’re suggesting they have some other ability we don’t know about?”
“Precisely the opposite,” I said, shooting Lance a knowing smirk, “They want us to believe they have an advantage, when in reality, they have none. It’s what they do. They play tricks. But look at what we do know: The Akians have talented shifters among their ranks. All they have to do is get through the Gate and shift to avoid being caught.” I recalled the winged demon and suppressed a shudder. “I’m guessing most of them shift into their beast form and fly over the outpost.”
“Shit,” Lance muttered.
“They’re smart,” I tell Captain Burke, “Smarter than we give them credit for.”
His face had taken on a faraway look, like he was daydreaming. His hazel eyes flicked to me. “They’ve always been smart, Miss Ashryn. We’re all just learning how to better hide it.” The windchimes began rattling, as if in agreement with Burke’s words.
“So, what’s the next move?” Lance asked, flipping his knife again.
Burke leaned forward and drew out a blank scrap of parchment from a drawer. He began writing as he spoke, “We watch, and we wait. I’m moving the outpost back another mile.”
“Sir, if we move it back any farther, we won’t be able to monitor the Gate. How are we supposed to figure out how they’re getting through?”
“We have plenty of time to properly plan our next move. Rushing these things makes for—”
“Captain, they are clearly looking for a serious confrontation,” Lance urged, “We can give them one. How much longer are we going to let them invade the Crescent without consequences? Soon they won’t just be engaging in petty battles they can’t win. They’re gonna start killing—”
Burke held up a hand, his mouth a rigid line. Lance stopped speaking and looked down at his boots. “The Akians face the consequences every time one of their units doesn’t return to the Demon Realm. They know what they are up against just as well as we do.”
Frustration roiled in my chest. I let my eyes roam over the paintings on the wall behind me. The Crescent had been preparing for a war for years, so what was stopping us now?
Shame washed over me like a billowing wave. Osran Burke knew what he was doing. The queen knew what she was doing. It was not our job to undermine their authority.
“I understand you are all eager to fight for your people, but I must warn you,” Burke urged, “War is not a pretty thing. We have a cause, and we have our reasons, but none of them justify the horrors wrought upon our families and friends by it. Do not be so quick to violence.”
“Yes, Captain,” I said, and Lance followed suit.
Burke had become the captain of the Faylis Elites soon after the end of the Great Reign, appointed by Queen Lucia herself when she took up the crown. He’d witnessed countless atrocities in the incident that had divided the Magicklands permanently, and he’d been fighting to defend the Crescent from those scars for three hundred years since.
Yet I couldn’t help but think that perhaps that had been the beginning of a war that had never ended.
I gave Captain Burke a curt bow, assuming we had been dismissed.
I recalled the demon’s words about the darkness again. I’d been thinking about them deeply, about how they didn’t seem to align with the ruthless endeavors of the Akian forces. I didn’t bring it up to the captain.
Burke sighed, and the whole room seemed to groan at the release of breath. “The Gate has stood for over a decade. It’s kept us far safer than any previous methods we’ve tried in the past. I will consult with Queen Lucia about plans to examine it. Once we know the condition of the Gate, we’ll know where we stand in this fight.”
I noticed how the captain intentionally avoided saying war this time. Did his past experiences yield anything quite as daunting as the battles to come? I calmed myself by picturing my dagger sinking into some lowly demon’s throat.
“Thank you for your intel, Mister Coghley and Miss Ashryn. I expect the contents of this discussion to stay within the walls of Faylis, at least until I consult the queen and her council,” Burke concluded. He returned to his papers and hastily began filling out his own reports and writing messages. The weathered wrinkles on his forehead pinched together in concentration, and Lance and I took that as our cue to finally step out.
Before we reached the door, Captain Burke called out, “Stay alert, my friends. From here on out I am going to need the Elites at their best. I hold your team responsible for being at the top of that expectation.”
Fears aside, if anyone was going to lead the Crescent to victory—to any semblance of peace or negotiation—it would be Captain Osran Burke. We wouldn’t stop fighting until every last demon in that spirits-forsaken realm got what they deserved. Death may be too easy, but war was a completely different game.
About the Author
Haley (Mak.) Makowski is a long-time proponent of all things whimsical, whether fiction or nonfiction, and of curious narratives that embrace identity. She is a junior majoring in English & Creative Writing at Michigan State University. Her work often falls within the genres of fantasy and sci-fi, also dabbling in creative nonfiction, but always championing the magic found within storytelling.
Instagram: @haleymakowski
Cover design made using Canva design tools.