*Fynn*It was the dead of the night. I could tell by the sinister red glow exactly who had summoned me from my sleep, and I was instantly short-tempered. It had been almost a full week of accompanying Sage into battle, and my nerves were nearly shot.She was surprisingly handy in battle, and so I was thankful for that matter. She had developed a skill for healing, and Magnus and Ronan had really started helping her latch onto that. She was starting to be able to heal more and more impressive wounds, and sometimes even from short distances.Still, that didn't stop me from worrying about her every day as we rode out. I should be returning to the frontlines soon, but I was struggling to leave her behind, and there was no way I'd be taking her with me.The men were developing a respect and reverence for her that bordered on religious fervor. It was a strange thing to witness, and I wondered if they would ever see me that way. I was no saint, and I certainly was less capable when it
I barely got any sleep after I returned to the tent. My mind spun with all sorts of possibilities and questions I didn't plan to ask. I knew though, that as far as sunrise was concerned, I needed to call a meeting first thing in the morning with my captains.I summoned a messenger from one of the nearby tents and had him work through the network of messengers to make sure that anyone who would need to know anything would be at the meeting in the morning. I laid awake and pondered how I would explain what was happening to my men, and I had to accept that they may just have to trust me.There were plenty of men who believed I was still young and untested. That felt ridiculous after a century at the helm, but compared to some of these ancient warriors, I was a young buck. I hoped that at hundreds of years old, I would still be that fighting fit, but their experience meant that they liked to push me at every turn and force me to explain every choice and call I made.Sometimes, I just
*Sage*I had about a thousand questions for Fynn. He had clearly known that something would be happening on the battlefield, but what had played out before our eyes had been the last thing I expected. When Evangeline's body crashed to the ground, sword still protruding from her chest, there was a flash of light that seared around us, and the world seemed brighter.Someone asked if we should give chase to the Water Court troops, but we were commanded to hold the line. When Fynn finally signaled for us to go back to camp, there was a sort of war whooping and victory cry like I had never heard before.A few battalions were held back to help Fynn take over the Water Court and claim it for himself, subduing the fleeing forces and helping them understand that there would be new leadership. Magnus was among the captains of the chosen battalions, and I wondered what that would be like for him. Would it be bittersweet, or trigger some tragic memory? I wanted to make sure we checked on him
Fynn released all the tension in the reins, letting Alastor gallop full force back to the manor. I slid my hands up Enbarr's neck and let him follow after, praying that he could follow Alastor well enough to not encounter any holes or tripping hazards on his way.The glee that filled the air felt like fireflies, even in the chill that came with the end of autumn. The bridge across the moat that surrounded Fynn's manor made an echoing rumble as we raced across it, and I could barely contain my excitement anymore.Alastor slowed as the road turned from dirt to gravel, and Enbarr followed his lead. I tried to drink in all the sights as we arrived, but there was too much to look at.Intricately carved wooden signs decorated the castle, with a handful of silk banners. The stables were a stunning feat of engineering and architecture, with stone arches and warm-toned wood and wrought iron. There were kennels filled with beautiful baying hounds, and a few dairy cows lowing and chewing cu
"I have a request," Fynn told Ragnar.Ragnar grunted at him, taking a long sip from the warm drink in his hands. I had learned it was their equivalent of coffee here, but I couldn't quite get on board with it. It sort of tasted like hot dirt to me. Ragnar, however, appeared to survive off it."What do you need, brother?" Ragnar finally said after swallowing down probably half the mug."Sage and I have decided we'd like to do a bonding ceremony," Fynn started.Ragnar's eyes widened, and a broad smile split across his face. I was starting to believe he wasn't as much of a grump as he wanted the world to believe. He got to his feet so fast that his chair clattered to the floor and he practically tackled Fynn as he tugged him into a bear hug."This is perfect!" Ragnar cheered. "Do the others know?""We just decided a couple of days ago. We need someone to do our tattoos for us," Fynn explained as Ragnar put him back on the ground."I would be honored," Ragnar beamed. "When? W
It only took a couple of weeks for Magnus to make his way back. He'd been planning a return trip to meet with Fynn anyway, so it wasn't difficult for him to extend his stay for a couple of days.The day that Magnus and his company marched into the city was bitterly cold, but the sky was blue and the soft, fluffy clouds that floated on the wind looked like cotton candy. There was celebration and triumph, music playing, and banners waving as they rode into the city.There had been nearly consistent celebration since the end of the war. For nearly a month now, there had been feasts, dances, speeches, and parties. Fynn and I had attended almost every one of them. Fynn had even hosted a few himself, introducing me to all of the families that helped him rule over his domain. The Woodland Court covered a surprising amount of territory, and people came from all over to celebrate victory with Fynn.Now that Fynn ruled Water Court too, it was expansive. He would need help organizing a new
I was familiar with the concept of a receiving line. I wasn't sure if it was a custom here or not, but it didn't take long at all for a line to form outside of the chapel."Congratulations, we couldn't be more excited for you," a couple of tiny pixies congratulated us."Thank you. And thank you for honoring us with your attendance," Fynn told them."Yes, thank you," I agreed, not at all prepared for a situation like this. I didn't have his skills with people. He always knew what to say to someone and most of the time I was left stammering.There was a steady stream of people, and I started feeling like I was getting the hang of what to say to them. Most of the time, I just recycled something I heard Fynn say to someone else, but people really just seemed to appreciate being acknowledged and spoken to kindly.Every now and then, there would be a few people who seemed less than thrilled at my presence. A lot of them were women who were clearly attracted to Fynn, and that was un
*Sage*The Smoky Mountains were technically a rainforest. They were a deciduous rainforest, and it was a fact that people didn't seem to know. But as you looked out across the way the moisture rose from the trees in the misty haze that gave the mountains their name, you'd have to believe it. As the tendrils of fog lifted their hands heavenward, reaching for a sun they'd never meet, it was easy to see why the place inspired ghost stories and folklore.My grandmother was superstitious. She believed you should never pick up a penny that wasn't heads-up. She wouldn't walk under ladders, and she always knocked on wood. She never told secrets while standing near a mirror, in case someone on the other side could hear her.She worried over faerie rings for as long as I could remember. In the spring and the summer, when I would come to visit her house, she was constantly warning me about them."Don't step in that ring," she would call to me, gesturing toward the brown-capped mushrooms t