Chapter 21
Year 1, 545 of the Human Era
16 years passed
Kythaela stroked her mare's neck gently.
She knew her time had come; but she didn't regret it. For it was time to pay the price of the blood magik she had put into those necklaces all those years ago. She would sacrifice herself, as the magik demanded. And then her beautiful children would be safe from all that was bad in the fae.
Even though she had to leave them she would never regret it. For she had eight years with her dearest Adresyn; eight years of loving him and their children with all her heart.
It was more than many ever got.
She had approached the fae woman may years before, when she had true-dreamt that she would have three children to a mortal man. She had known the price when she had asked for the protective runes on the most pure of uncut stones; ruby, emerald and sapphire. She had agreed to give her life for the three children who had not yet been born; but whom she loved with all her heart.
They would need the protection to hide themselves from the fae; so no fae would be able to sense the magik that lay dormant within them. Dormant and unreachable in their half-human forms.
They needed protection from those who would seek to use them as no human could.
It was why she had urged Adresyn to allow them fencing lessons.
A sigh escaped her lips as she thought of her husband and his beautiful cocoa eyes. She remembered the soft kiss she had pressed to his lips when she'd departed that morning.
She hoped that he would not hate her for leaving; but she had stayed far longer than she should have. Her children had been her life in that beautiful house atop the hill.
But she would do anything to protect her children and her husband.
Her life meant little in comparison.
….
Year 1, 561 of the Human Era
Present
Nuvian glared at the fae-witch, hoping beyond hope that he could glare holes in her icy, gossamer wings.
"You know you won't get anywhere by looking at me like that," he tried to ignore her words, but they stole through his mind like a fog. But he would not let them cloud his senses. He would escape and find a rune-blade. Then he would run it through the sapphire-eyed bitch before him.
….
Anya couldn't help but smile, and she made no effort to stop it. The sun shone down upon them, freed from the clouds that had blocked its path for so long.
Adamyr's hands ran through her unruly curls, his breathing deep and even. She could feel the heat of his hands setting a deep burning flame beneath her skin; her soul reaching out to his. It was a fire that would keep them warm in the years ahead, for she knew that it would not be easy – what had happened before was mere child's play. For they would approach the King, in hopes of living in peace with the humans.
To become part of society like so long ago; living in peace. For not all fae were monsters, nor were they beasts. For there were humans that could be more vicious and ghastly than any fae could ever be.
She opened her eyes lazily, looking up into Adamyr's golden eyes.
"You know, I dreamt of you like this," he said softly and she didn't not need to look at his full lips to know that he was smiling. For his eyes were shining, aglow with happiness. With joy. With love. "I thought it was just wishful thinking; hoping that you could be my queen. Though why I dreamt of you in that horrid room, I guess I'll never know."
Anya froze, her mouth parting in an 'O'.
"What is it love?"
It couldn't be…Was it not he who had dream walked? Had it not been his soul crying out for her help?
"You dreamt of me? In the room with the mirror?"
"You know of the room?" Adamyr sat up, pulling her around to face him. Amber eyes met cocoa, and his golden wings fluttered almost nervously behind him. His hand touched hers, reverently. So warm. So strong. So kind…There was nothing beastly about him. "Anya, did you dream-walk into my dreams?"
"Me?" Her voice was a squeak.
Adamyr laughed, picking her up and spinning her around. He brought her close, before pausing. "You were fae even when you were human, only the most powerful of fae can dream-walk Anya." He kissed her, sweetly. Softly, as if he were afraid she'd break. Or disappear. "You will be the most perfect queen."
And then it was Anya that pulled him into a kiss, leaving the questions for later. For they had all eternity.