Gaelen vel Serranis was healed. He no longer felt all the souls that he had slain—the weight was gone. He looked at the one who had healed him, the powerful one that he had come to kill, with hair like fire and eyes like jade. She was close to her shei'tan, and around him—all around where they were, in fact—were watchful and alert Fey warriors, including his sister, Marissya's shei'tan and quintet, and the Feyreisa's own quintet.

Marissya's hands were on him, and he instinctively moved back, afraid that his healing was not true, but she just laid her hands on him, unhurt. "He is as unshadowed as an infant." She threw her arms around him, and he felt the breath leave him as the joy welled up inside him.

He looked at the fire headed woman, «for this moment alone I owe you my soul» He wrapped his arms around Marissya as his throat clenched, he closed his eyes and savored the moment that he had wished for for such a long time.

The jade eyed Feyreisa looked at the Tairen Soul behind her and she whispered, and he could still hear her due to the enhanced Fey hearing, "For once, it appears I may have done something right with this magic you've awakened in me."

The Feyreisen stroked a hand in her hair. "What you have done is a miracle, as Marissya says."

"Ki falla'sheisan…" Gaelen spoke, his voice was raspy from unused—he didn't need to talk much as dahl'reisen . She turned to him and he let go of Marissya. He bowed low, summoning all the grace that he had. "Ki fella'sheisan, I am Gaelen vel Serranis, brother of the shei'dalin Marissya v'En Solande and once a proud warrior of the Fey. I have been dahl'reisen, outcast and banished, for the last thousand years, the most lost of all lost souls, but you have restored me."

"I am Ellysetta Baristani, Ser vel Serranis. And in truth I don't know what I did or how I did it, but you are welcome all the same."

Gaelen looked at her, perplexed. "You are not what I expected. You are… innocent." He didn't think that she would be this way. From what he'd heard, she would bring the destruction of all the Fey, she would be their downfall. But she could not be. He kneeled intending to do lute'asheiva.

But a wordless cry pierced into him, filling his mind and reverberating throughout his body, making his heart jolt as he stood up. Feelings that were not his own tugged at his soul. Fear. Helplessness. Hopeless terror. The warriors around him drew their Fey'chas, seeing his sudden action as a threat.

She was calling out to him.

«What's wrong, kem'jeto?» Marissya reached out for him, touching his shoulder.

«She's calling out to me»

His soul and body knew, although his mind was still a little behind. "Shei'tani."

"Gaelen?"

He made a move, but the Fey warriors wove their magic on him—a five-fold weave to keep him in.

He screamed as he felt the fear of his shei'tani, driving him crazy with the instinct to protect. "She needs my help! She's crying out to me!" His look was fierce and wild. Anguish and terror lashed at his mind, tugging at his soul. He looked at Rain, the Feyreisen. «You have no right to keep a Fey from his shei'tani»

Marissya looked at her brother, looking into his mind, then turned to Rain. "You need to let him go, he speaks the Truth."

Rain clenched his jaw, placing a shield around Ellysetta. "Fine." As soon as the words left his mouth, the warriors dropped the weave and Gaelen shot out to a particular direction. Rain ordered some of the warriors to head out with him, to keep an eye on the Dark Lord.

Charlotte Graham opened her mouth to let out a blood curdling scream as she fell through the sky.

What in God's name was going on? One minute she was walking, then next she was falling.

Her heart hammered out of her chest and she felt terror—very real, and very, very potent.

Oh, God. Please, help me.

Her arms flailed out as she vainly tried to grasp on to something. She could see wisps of her pale blonde hair on the edges of her eyes, which were blurred by the tears from the panic she felt.

I'm going to die, and I'm not even twenty five. She let out another scream, a cry for help. Someone, anyone. God, please, save me.

She closed her eyes, unwilling to see anymore.

Suddenly, she stopped falling. She opened her eyes and was met with an icy-blue gaze. The man who was carrying her looked at her with and odd expression. His hair was long and black, looking like silk. His skin was a pale alabaster, and, was it her or was he actually glowing? He was breathtaking—and she could support this because she was out of breath at that very moment—and handsome, his face seemed to be like a hard stone carved to perfection. He opened his mouth to speak.

"Ver reisa ku'chae. Kem surah, shei'tani." His voice was a raspy baritone.

She cried out, stumbling out of his arms. She got on her hands and knees, quickly turning. Her knees and hands felt weak from the fall, and she looked at him with a panicked gaze. "Who are you?"

"Be not afraid, shei'tani, I will not harm you." He said as he stepped forward.

She scrambled backwards, trying to stand, but only finding it difficult. She looked around, noticing that she was in some kind of walkway and she could see the sea around her. It was dark, and lights came from the lamps and the moon. She noticed other men surround her, their faces set in a hard expression.

"Where am I?" She said, swallowing. Her voice was shaky and hoarse. "Who are you people?"

"Be calm, no one will harm you." He walked slowly to her. He reached out his hand to her, palms up, reaching out to her. "Ver reisa ku'chae. Kem surah, shei'tani."

She didn't know what came over her, but she reached out and touched his palm. Warmth enveloped her and a certain peace came to her.

Her vision slurred and she fell, darkness taking her.

Gaelen caught his shei'tani before she hit the ground, panic swelling inside of him. He sank to the ground with her, looking for any injuries that could have caused her to lose consciousness—if she was bleeding he needed to stop it. Finding nothing, he picked her up and carried her as fast as he could back to the castle, where his sister was currently staying.

«Marissya, kem'jita, I need you.»

«What's wrong?»

«I think she's hurt, I cannot know. She's unconscious. I bring her to you.»

Gaelen, followed by Fey warriors, brought his shei'tani to the palace following the Spirit trail towards Marissya, carefully weaving Air to bring him to the balcony. He watched her pale face—she was so exquisite. Her hair was a pale blonde, and her eyes were a light hazel color from what he could make out when she had looked at him, wide eyed. Her skin was fair, and he worried over the lack of color in her cheeks and plump lips. She was slender and boney from what he could feel of her body.

He walked into the room as Marissya approached him, looking her over. As he walked her to the bed, he noticed her clothing was odd. The shei'tan in him wanted to cover her up, as her arms were exposed, as well as part of her chest. Her legs were only covered up to the upper thigh. Instinctively, with a flash of Earth, he wove her long trousers and a tunic with long sleeves—to protect her from the cold.

"What's wrong with her?" Ellysetta asked as he laid his shei'tani down in the bedroom. She had been sitting at a table, writing a note in the anteroom.

He sent her, Rain and Marissya the memory of how he found his shei'tani, though he didn't know how it was possible that she was falling from so high in the first place. He had barely gotten to her—a few seconds later and she would've hit the ground and died.

«Marissya, shei'dalin, heal her.»

Marissya sat on the bed, intending to do just that. But the expression on her face alarmed Gaelen.

"I can't heal her, kem'jeto. My weaves are not… It's as if she's… But that's…"

"What is it, kem'jita?" He asked as he kneeled beside the bed, grabbing his shei'tani's hand.

Marissya tore her perplexed gaze from the girl on the bed, turning her eyes to Gaelen. "She's unweaving my magic."

Silence fell on the room.

Rain was the first to speak. "How is that even possible?"

"She's undoing my magic as soon as it touches her skin." Marissya said as she hovered her hands over the girl again, pouring a healing weave into her. When it didn't work once more, she brought her hand to the girl's throat, checking for a pulse. After a few more pokes and prods, Marissya spoke. "She's alright, Gaelen. She most likely fainted from the shock."

"Let her rest for now, vel Serranis. We have much to talk about. Marissya will see to your shei'tani." The Feyreisen spoke and Gaelen made his way to the sofa near the window, by the door into the bedroom, so he could still keep eye on his shei'tani. "So, why is it that you came here?"

"The Eld are on the move, I came to warn my sister," Gaelen looked at Rain, then to his shei'tani, still on edge about her near death. He clenched his jaw and raised his hand.

The doors were closed and bolted in an instant, and he quickly spun Air and Spirit to keep the room shut and safe. It happened so fast that even Rain, the last Tairen Soul, King of the Fey, blinked.

Gaelen smirked. "I am Master of Earth, Air, Spirit and Fire, and a fifth level in Water, mentored in the Dance of Knives by the great Shannisorran v'En Celay himself." He looked at Ellysetta's quintet, frowning. "They need more training, Tairen Soul. The Feyreisa could've died tonight." At that the Fey warriors in the room—Rain, Elysetta's quintet, Dax, and Marissya's quintet—all pulled out their Fey'chas, their daggers, all looking menacingly at him. Gaelen lifted his hands up. "I'm just saying."

With a clenched jaw, Rain spoke. "So, the Eld will attack soon. Marissya, verify if he speaks the truth."

And so he told them. He told them about the raid, about what the interest of the Mages in Ellysetta, and about the Azrahn.

"Use of Azrahn is a banishing offense," Kieran, his sister's son, said.

Gaelen laughed. "That's not much of a deterrent when one is already banished for far worse. I'm sure I'm not the only one to break Fey laws when the situation warrants." He looked at Rain, his expression unreadable. "I never expected to walk the Fading Lands again. If you choose to deny me entrance because I called Azrahn as dahl'reisen, so be it." He looked at his shei'tani, lying so still on the bed. "But I'd ask that you grant her entrance—she is a truemate, my being her shei'tan should not change that."

"I will not deny entrance, nor would I your truemate. But you will no longer use Azrahn." Rain said.

Gaelen frowned. "I will do what I need to protect the Fey." His eyes flickered to the girl on the bed. "And my shei'tani."

Charlie started to wake to the sounds of sobbing. It was probably Liesel, and she had probably just had a fight with her good for nothing boyfriend, Raph. Not yet willing to open her eyes to deal with a crying best friend, she closed her eyes and brought her hands above her head to stretch, arching her back and groaning at the pleasant sensation.

She turned to her side, eyes still closed. She folded her leg, shifting into a more comfortable position as she placed her hand under her pillow and the other under her chin. She spoke, still groggy. "What's wrong, Liesel? Is it Raph?"

There was something wrong with her voice. What the hell did she do?

That's when she started noticing the oddities. This bed was too soft. This pillow, and the sheets were too silky. And Liesel had stopped crying—there was just silence in the room.

Memories came back to her. The falling. The hot dude with glowing skin. The weird words. The weird place. The weird people.

And that was the moment she sat up and turned so fast that her hair whipped around her. Her eyes were wide. Pain erupted on her forearm as she hit the side table.

"Ah, fuck," she screamed as she cradled her arm.

Immediately, someone knelt beside her—the hot dude who managed to catch her when she was falling. "Are you alright, shei'tani?"

She shied away from him, "That is not my name. And who are you?" In her haste to move back, she had hit someone—probably the sobbing girl. Her nature won over. She immediately moved to the side, scooting farther away. She looked at the girl. "Oh, my God, I am so sorr—ah!" She fell off the bed with a thud, landing on her back, but that didn't stop her from crawling into a corner and keeping away from all the people in the room.

There was a woman who was covered from neck to toe in red, her black hair in a bun at the start of her neck. She was quite beautiful, with the same luminous skin as everyone in the room except the woman on the bed. She was looking at Charlie expectantly.

The woman who had been sobbing on the bed was a green eyed, red hair girl, who was probably around Charlie's age. Her hair fell around her face in curls, and her face was tear stained, and the area under her cheeks so red from the rubbing.

There were about eleven other men in the room, not including the one from last night.

«Calm down. Las, shei'tani.»

The sound came from inside her head, and she was sure she knew who it came from. She met icy blue eyes.

"Who are you? And where in God's name am I?" She slowly stood up—no need to show these people that she was scared.

"My name is Gaelen vel Serranis, and you are in Celieria City, of the Kingdom of Celieria."

She ran down the list of countries that were in her head—and she was a pretty well-read woman—and did not recognize the name.

"Liar! That kingdom doesn't exist."

"And yet here we are, shei'tani."

"Stop calling me that," she snapped. Being called a word she didn't know bothered her in so many levels—she didn't know whether or not she was being insulted. But the way he said it was weird, as if it was her name. "That isn't my name."

"Then what is your name?" It was the dark haired woman who spoke, and she had a smile on her face. "I am Marissya v'En Solande."

She swallowed, lowering her guard. If they wanted to harm her, they'd have done it by now. "Charlotte. Charlotte Graham."

"Where are you from, Charlotte?"

"Utah."

There was a look of confusion on both their faces, even the red headed woman on the bed looked perplexed.

"What kingdom?"

Kingdom? Were there any kingdoms left? She probably meant country.

"The United States of America."

There was that look again, exchanged between everyone. Besides that, people here dressed really odd. Who dressed like that anyway?

And why were they glowing?

"vel Serranis, you think there's a chance she's Mage-claimed?" A dark haired, dark skinned—but still luminous—man said, he was wearing black leathers all over, with scores of daggers sheathed on his body. She was quite sure he knew exactly how well to use them.

"Watch your word, vel Jelani," Gaelen growled, his hand coming upon a dagger. "She is my shei'tani."

"And yet she's mortal. Her appearance here cannot be coincidental." On a private weave, Belliard vel Jelani spoke. «The Feyreisa is a truemate, and yet even she is Mage-claimed»

Gaelen couldn't argue with that. He needed to check her. If she was Mage-claimed—please, gods, no—then she was already a danger to the Feyreisa.

"What the actual fuck?" Charlotte screamed as she looked at the Feyreisa, who had a shield around her, the translucent glow still letting her be seen. In her shock, his shei'tani fell to the floor, eyes wide and mouth open as she stared at Ellysetta. She closed her eyes tight. "Oh, God, this is a dream, there's no possible explanation. I'm dreaming." She brought her hands to her cheeks and started slapping herself.

Gaelen didn't like that. He wove Spirit around her hands to keep them still. "Stop that, you're hurting yourself."

"That's the point!" She shouted, panicked once again. "I'm going to wake up."

Gaelen decided to do the only thing he thought he could do. He spun a Spirit weave on her to make her sleep.

"Gaelen!" Marissya exclaimed as she knelt down beside her.

"It's for her own good, kem'jita," Gaelen said as he strode to where Charlotte was, picking her up. "She was hurting herself, believing all this to be a dream."

"You should check for the Marks now then," Kieran spoke.

Gaelen glared at his nephew and strode out into the anteroom. With Earth, he wove a blanket for her, noticing that her hand was cold. He also wove a pillow to cushion her head as he laid her down.

He summoned the Arzahn, swallowing as he feared the results. Could he kill her if she was? She was his shei'tani, her death meant his. He lowered his hand to near her chest. Stilling his hands, he slowly lowered the neckline of the tunic.

He breathed a sigh of relief as he saw no telltale bruise like marks.

He glared at vel Jelani as he dissipated the Azrahn. "Happy?"

"So, how exactly did you get here?" Marissya, who was also Gaelen's sister, questioned Charlie.

Charlie had woken once again, and this time, she was more calm—and more accepting of her situation. When she had woken up, Marissya was there. It was early in the morning—the sky was still relatively dark. The warriors around the room had looked less menacing at her, one had even offered her a refreshment. After that, there was a round of introductions.

That, of course, was when the questioning began.

She studied the woman in front of her, deciding whether or not she should tell the truth. Well, it's not like she could do anything about it anyway.

"I fell from the sky." She stated. "I was going down stairs to grab myself some water, and the next thing I knew, I was falling. Then I was…" she shrugged, "…here"

"You're saying you're from another world?" Kieran, Marissya's son—yes, a woman who looked barely past her twenties' son—asked, skeptical.

She held her hands up. "Hey, dude, believe what you will. Because I have no idea why the hell I came tumbling out of the sky like I did. But I did." She was just so tired of all these questions—some asked again, and again, and again, and again. "I have no idea where this place is, and you have no idea about the places I've spoken of." And now she was on a roll. "You people dress really weird, I mean, like nobody dresses like that anymore—unless, you know, for special occasions and shit. And if you guys," she motioned to the warriors, clad in black leathers and daggers, "were soldiers from my world, I seriously think there should be guns on you, because you're not protecting anyone with daggers, because bullets are much faster. And, while we're talking about it, why are you people glowing? Do you put something on your skin?"

"We are Fey, it is how we are." Marissya said.

"Fey, as in faeries? With wings and pixie dust?" The distinct image of Tinkerbell entered her mind.

"What is she talking about?" The guard standing by the door, Belliard vel Jelani, who had accused her of being called something claimed or whatever.

She rolled her eyes. "I am so done." She placed the goblet she was holding down on the floor by her feet and she stood, heading to the glass doors of the balcony. As she slowly walked out to get the fresh air that she needed, she saw the city below and felt her mouth go dry.

So, it was true.

Slowly, she sank to her knees, sitting back on her haunches. Still, she could see the city below through the balustrades. It was a beautiful city, and she saw carriages go by, people couldn't be seen properly from up here, but she saw them mill about.

«She'tani, come back inside.»

It was Gaelen, and he was looking at her so tenderly, sympathy and sadness in his eyes. His voice seemed a comfort in her mind, and she knew that she should be freaking out, but she wasn't. She stood up, and the morning wind blew at her face, making her shiver, and her hair whipped about. Suddenly, a cloak shimmered around her as it formed. She gave a jolt of surprise, but kept the cry in her mouth from escaping. She drew the cloak closer to her body, seeking comfort, as if it could protect her from what was happening.

She looked down, swallowing the lump in her throat. "Thank you." She looked up at Gaelen, then at the warriors behind him, then to Marissya. Finally, she turned around and looked at the Celieria city, capital of the Kingdom of Celieria.

Charlie felt so afraid. This wasn't her home—these people were more than strangers. She was literally thrown into a world that had things she couldn't quite grasp—like magic. This place felt bizarre. Her heart felt heavy as she let out a sigh, closing her eyes as she offered a prayer that she had learned since she was young, letting the tears in her eyes fall.

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

With a deep breath, she turned around.