glamour – a thin, invisible shield of magic that can be used for various purposes, like hiding one’s expressions and can be a protective barrier

jol – minute

———

Aiasthlyn

˚

“If Aiasthlyn were to die while on his Charge, might I be able to claim his chambers?”

I stop midstride at the threshold of my brood’s private dining rooms.

Not all are yet here, only the twins and Mother, who stand before the large, ornate table with chalices in their hands. The moon has barely risen but Irros seems to have begun the madness on the others’ behalf already.

“Irros,” Mother groans upon a deep sigh laden with exhaustion. Anger would rise from Mother with any other, but this is Irros. Such reactions would only fuel him.

“What? I am not saying that I want him to die,” he defends while Mother takes a lengthy sip of her wine, “only planning for the possibility, should it come.”

“And why is claiming his chambers in the event of his death the first matter on your mind?” Meira scolds as she shakes her head. Never mind the fact that she asked me the same thing earlier this morning.

“Should I ask a more politically acceptable question then?” Irros gripes.

“Please do not,” Mother begs, but it is too late.

“If Aiasthlyn were to die—”

“Always death with you,” Meira mumbles.

“—who would rule after him?” Irros continues, undeterred, though it is clear he does not care about the answer to this question quite as much as his first, by the way he slouches. “Virion or Ciradyl?”

Neither Mother nor Meira answers, choosing instead to stare at Irros with mirrored expressions of exasperation that eventually drives him to roll his large eyes. That golden gaze falls upon me, and Irros immediately brightens.

“Ah, Aiasthlyn. You are here,” he cheers, turning to me. “You answer this for me. If you were to die—”

“Ythene’s mercies, Irros!” Mother growls, abandoning her usual calm as she shoves a gust of wind into him. “Enough with the morbidity upon your brother.”

“Fine,” he groans, leaving their circle to fall into his chair at the dining table. “Just remember that I asked first, so if it does happen–Ythene forbid it, you are my favourite brother– I want his rooms.”

“Actually, I asked first,” Meira states, unmasking herself to ensure that the record is set straight. Mother stares at her in horror, but Meira refuses to notice as she follows Irros to the table. “And he said yes.”

“Aiasthlyn!” Irros shouts as he straightens and fixes me with a disbelieving stare. “You did not! Tell me you did not.”

I shrug my shoulders as I make my approach. “She asked first.”

Irros gasps while Meira beams, and Mother once again releases a weighty sigh.

“I can not believe you entertained this,” she says as I stop before her. “Your Wona would weep if she heard this conversation.”

“She is going to weep regardless,” I correct and Mother hums agreeably. “Where is Wona?”

It was not often that she and Mother were not joined at the hip, especially before one of our special dinners, and as this was to be my last before my Charge, I had thought she would be the first to arrive.

“Prettying herself with Virion,” Mother answers with another exasperated shake of her head. “They said that they must look grand before your departure.”

“Because that will help me so,” I mumble, and Mother chuckles softly.

Lifting a hand, she squeezes my arm gently and her warmth seeps beneath my skin, helping my shoulders relax as she steers me forward.

“Is all ready?”

“As well as it could be,” I report, stepping forward to pull her chair free for her. She sits with a grateful smile. “All that is left is time with the family.”

“I can not believe this is our last night with you,” Meira whispers while I slip into the seat beside Mother. “How are you feeling. You will be in another realm tomorrow, Aiasthlyn.”

“Yes,” I agree with a hum before I reach forth to pour myself a needed glass of wine. “It is exciting, I suppose.”

“You suppose?” Irros echoes, abandoning his pouting to cast an offended eye upon me. “You are going to be the first elf there in generations. Ythene only knows all you might see… all you might do.” His golden eyes flare suggestively. “You could partake in so much.”

“Such as?” Meira inquires before I can answer.

“Such as bodily pleasures,” Irros retorts without a modicum of shame. “Food, festivities, and the bodies themselves. You might find someone to keep you warm.”

“It is not a trip for leisure, Irros,” I remind him, and he rolls his eyes. “I do not think I will be able to partake in very much.”

“You are no fun,” he complains as he falls back into his chair, letting one arm drape over the back of it. “At the very least, bring me something back. Something useful that will not rot.”

“And me!” Meira begs as she shifts her long hair over her shoulder. “I would love a souvenir.”

“Once more, this is not a sabbatical,” I say while I palm my chalice. “Bringing back artefacts will be the very last matter on my mind.”

The twins sigh with equal measures of disappointment that I do not play into as I sip my wine. A moment later, the large golden doors open, allowing Ciradyl to stride forth. Her eyes are glued to her writing stone, as they so often are, but the moment she steps over the threshold, she leaves it with one of the guards outside to allot us her time.

“You are late, Cira,” Meira states quickly. “We have such limited time left with our brother, and you spend it with others. Are you not ashamed?”

“Not in the slightest,” Ciradyl replies dryly before she occupies the seat beside me. “Try something else in a jol. I’m sure you’ll think of something clever.”

Cackling, Irros fills the room with his raucous laughter while Mother hides hers behind her cup. As cold as our Mother could be at times, I was almost entirely certain that her personality secretly matched Irros in nature. The only difference lay in the fact that she learned how to mask its rougher edges.

“Where are Wona and Virion?” Ciradyl asks with a look around.

“Prettying themselves,” We all reply in unison, and she huffs a small laugh.

“Should we start without them?” Irros asks while he pours himself another glass of wine and stretches forth to fill Cira’s.

“And face your Wona’s wrath?” Mother asks, one of her black brow lifting. “I think not. They will be here soon. I can feel their approach.”

“You should have saved your comments for them, Meira,” Ciradyl tsks before she looks upon me. She eyes me quietly before her lips press into a thin line. “How are you?”

“Fine,” I reply, and those sharp eyes narrow, but Ciradyl nods, letting it be.

The doors open once more, allowing the last of our brood to make their grand entrance, and it is grand indeed.

Arms interwoven, Wona and Virion stride in, in robes of blue and white, mirrors of our faction’s colours that catch wind with their strides. Virion’s face is powdered and perfected, and so is Wona’s, the two of them the picture of elegance for absolutely no reason.

“Ythene’s Might,” Meira mumbles while Irros cackles.

“What is this?” He asks, laughter growing louder. “Such theatrics for dinner? And what will you do if I were to, I don’t know… spill my wine?”

Virion’s purple eyes darken as he pins them on Irros. “Do it if you dare, brother,” he whispers, his voice eerily thin. “Do it if you dare.”

Irros, wisely, stays quiet, but the way his gaze brightens promises that he will see to that dare before the night is over. Ythene, help us all.

“Oh, Aiasthlyn,” my Wona cheers as she slips from Virion to stride to me. Her arms wrap around me from over my seat as she cradles me tightly. “What am I to do without you when you go?”

“Make do with the others,” I reply, patting her arm. “Though I suppose it will be difficult.” The rest of my brood glare at me, and I struggle to contain my smile.

“She will do just fine with me,” Virion declares as he seats himself with all his usual graces. “I have a hand on the budget now, so we will shop all across Colony.”

“Yes, run our coffers dry,” Cira encourages with a firm nod. “Brilliant plan, Virion. So astute you are.”

“Ythene’s wisdom slots itself inside of you, brother,” Meira adds on, and she and Ciradyl share a wink.

Incensed, Virion puffs himself up like a pegasus as he lifts a shimmering finger. “You all are-“

“Now, children,” Wona sings from over my shoulder before Virion can unleash his venom. “Aiasthlyn’s last night should be spent joyously. Not with all this snipping.”

“I do not mind,” I intercede as Wona pulls herself away to sit opposite Mother at the free end of the table. “In fact, I encourage it.”

“Oh, I bet you do, Aiasthlyn,” Virion retorts as he settles his sharp gaze upon me.

“Tell me, Virion,” I say, sitting forth, “where did you get that lovely necklace?”

“So are we to talk all night?” Virion asks, shifting his gaze to all else. “Or should we enjoy this lovely meal as one, as Ythene intended?”

Mother is the first to laugh, and it is a loud, bright sound that sparks it in the rest of us. We laugh together, our magic rising and meeting as one as we settle into ourselves in this familiar space.

As a family, we did not participate in many things together. We might all live in the castle, but it was large enough to keep us apart when we had separate lives. Even so, we made a point to share a meal together at the start of every feen.

It was a nonnegotiable, and unless death or Ythene herself came in the way of that, we were all to be sitting in this very room that was the best reflection of our family.

While the rest of the castle was porcelain white, with blues and gold, this was the one room that differed. Driftwood covered the wall’s borders, which were painted a moss green. There was no gold in here, only soft furnishings that any elf might be able to make themselves. Loungers sat in the adjacent chamber, which we often fell onto when desserts stuffed us each to the brim.

Mother had designed the space for Wona many moons ago, when they had just fallen in love and Wona agreed to leave her home within one of the fisher villages to come and rule at Mother’s side.

Mother made this room for her as a piece of home, and it had become our centre as the brood grew. I would miss it dearly while I was away, would miss them, chaos and all.

My heart seizes, clenching so horribly tight that I find it difficult to breathe for a moment, but I fight through the ache.

This was to be a cheerful parting and I would leave it as such.

When the laughter settles and only smiles remain, Wona silently lifts her hands and we all follow suit. Spread our palms and look skyward, we look towards Ythene as we share a measure of our lifeforces with her and the realm.

As we took from her realm that sustained us, we gave back some of our own energy. It was how all elves kept our lands— the source of our power— healthy so that the cycle could continue in peaceful harmony.

But like any offering, giving parts of ourselves leaves us ravenous, so when it passes and we have each faithfully paid our dues, we all do not slow to grab from the waiting bowls and plates at the centre of the table.

We pass them around, talking as we do, acting a normal brood for once, without our servants and guards in this private place.

“So, how do you feel, Aiasthlyn?” Virion asks once his plate is emptied. “Scared? I would be. I would imagine all the worst scenarios, like the portal not allowing me to return, or some hideous monster waiting on the other end to claim me, or-“

“I do not see how this is meant to help, Aiasthlyn,” Irros interjects as he tilts his head to one side. “And if you were on time, you might have heard his answer when his truly loving siblings already asked him such.”

“Beauty takes time, Irros. I have tried numerous times to teach you this, but alas,” Virion gives a dull shrug as he drags his gaze over Irros. “You rely solely on our mothers’ gifts upon us, and you wonder why no pisen chooses you.”

“Virion!” Wona scolds as Mother hisses at her eldest, bearing fang. “Do not say such an unkind thing.”

“Irros does not care,” Virion defends with a waved hand. “He does not truly seek one, do you?”

All eyes turn to Irros who still lounges within his seat, his expression impassive. “No. Too much work.”

He says it simply and I have never known Irros to lie about anything, but would he react so impassively if a pisen did chose him?

I could not say, but neither could I imagine Irros with a pisen to tend to.

Pisens were our most treasured elves. With the purest souls, they sprouted amongst every type of elf, but were few and far between.

For such, they were revered amongst elves and are the most heavily sought for a lifetime match.

Many yearned for pisens, to stand beside and nurture their bright light, but few earned a place by their side.

“Still,” Mother says, her teeth bared. “It was unkind. Offer Irros your apologies.”

Virion frowns, lips falling flat and then somehow even flatter when Irros grins at him.

“I am sorry, Irros,” he mumbles, scrapping the words from his tongue. “I should not have said such things. I should have called you a blight and left it as such.”

“And it begins again,” Meira mumbles.

“A blight?!” Irros chokes while both Wona and Mother make for the wine again. “Do you know the meaning of such a word? If you did, you would use it to describe yourself when you claim every treasure you set your eyes upon.”

“Reclaim,” Virion corrects with pause. “Beauty finds beauty. I am simply reuniting us.”

“Oh, heavens,” Ciradyl whispers, rubbing at her thin brows.

“Tell me, Virion,” Irros begins, focusing solely on our brother. “Who was named the most desired prince in all of Colony last luhe?”

“Boys,” Wona tries, but they do not hear her.

“Who was named the most desired prince in all of Ythene’s Realm last luhe and the one before that?” Virion shoots back with a sly smile. “And the one before that?” Chuckling, Virion curls a lock of his oiled hair around his finger. “You should know better than to throw pebbles at me when I own boulders, Irros.”

“I am not scared,” I reply before Irros can think to call off his fire. The room is already heating, and if Virion’s precious clothing catches on fire, I have no doubt that I will soon be tearing the pair apart. “It will be strange, and I am sure acclimating will be a jarring experience, but I am not afraid.”

Everyone’s attention falls upon me, including Irros’ and Virion’s, as they abandon their infighting to listen. They’re silent, gazes impassive, but I know my family well enough to sense their hidden worries. I see it in their eyes.

“I will be fine,” I promise with a small smile. “I will take no unnecessary risks, and I will focus solely on the Charge.”

“You must,” Meira whispers, his voice weak before she tilts her head a measure higher. “So you can return home as you are.”

Irros nods beside her, and my smile grows. “I will, I promise. I will see it through and return as quickly as I can.”

“Be watchful, always,” Ciradyl mutters, claiming my attention. Her golden gaze is lethal as she glares at me, “Do not give anything in that realm the opportunity to hurt you.”

“Now I am offended,” I state as I look around the table that hosts expressions as fierce as they are solemn. “I have a Sael and Ythene’s power in my veins. There is nothing in that realm that will be able to harm me.”

“Do you fear physical harm alone?” Virion asks, his tone awfully gentle as he peers at me. Virion, my puerile older brother, is not the one who looks at me now, but the one who trained me for the crown. “You must protect your mind too, Aiasthlyn, and your heart.”

“I will,” I promise to him and them all. “I vow this.” And I mean it, but the tension remains.

“All will be well,” Wona suddenly says, quieting the upset with her gentleness. I look at her, and a fresh ache begins in my chest as I spot the tears welling in her eyes.

“Wona,” I whisper, but her lips spread into a wobbly smile.

“It is all right, Aiasthlyn,” she says kindly. “I have accepted it. It is saddening for me, and all of us here, but not because we are not proud of you. We are all very proud, do not mistake that. It is only that we have never truly been apart, and for the first time to be such a drastic case, frightens us all.”

As she speaks, the others’ heads fall, fists tightening over the table while jaws clench tighter. My eyes widen as I take it all in, realising that they are fearful, truly.

I loved my brood dearly but I did not think they would react so deeply, nor so openly, but I suppose I would too if one of them were not only going off-world but to a different and unfamiliar realm.

I do not know if I would even allow it.

“If I know my family well, and I like to think that I do,” Wona continues softly, “I believe our greatest fear of all is something happening to you, and having to feel it from afar without the chance to stop it, because we are not there.”

“Nothing will happen,” I vow, and she nods, causing her tears to spill as she fights to hold her smile.

“No, it will not, because you will be vigilant and take care of yourself. If not for yourself, then for us,” she states shakily as her wet golden eyes glow. “And we will pray for your safe return every day and every night until we have you again.”

“We will,” Mother confirms, her usual calm helping ease the strained breaths among us. “And no one will steal your chambers.”

I huff a laugh that Meira and Irros soon follow while Virion frowns. “Are his chambers a matter of debate?”

Immediately, the matter of who might steal my rooms engulfs the conversation. I am grateful for it while I watch Wona wipes at her tears, cleaning herself up. When she catches my gaze, she smiles at me, and I return it.

In my heart, I heed her words, holding them close so I do not forget them.

It was always easier for me to fight for others than for myself, a trait Mother said made me a good king. It was true, though I did not think that Mother knew the reason was because I did not want for very much myself, and what I did seek, was unreachable.

I could not give up the crown, nor could I give up my mantle as Protector. But if I had to hold them both, then I could see my tasks through for them— for the people in this room first, who I loved more than anything else. For the ones outside of it, second, who roamed the halls and made up my faction, and then, for the rest that made up the Realm.

I could see my Charge through, safely and quickly, for them, and I would.

˚

The perimeter of the portal pulses in front of me, slow like crashing waves, but constant, as if it is between breaths.

Beneath it, magic gathers and not the magic needed to power the device itself. There was more outside of it, coaxing me forth, as it had been doing long before I opened my eyes.

I asked one of the attendants if such an effect was normal, but they could not feel or sense the magic I spoke of.

It seemed Ythene’s Charge had begun, and she was already directing my steps.

“The portal will close after you,” Babis says, drawing my attention to him as he steps into my line of vision. “It will remain closed until you trigger your beacon from the other side. When you do so, you will need to return to the precise location you first arrive in.”

I nod. I have heard this all before, thrice now in fact, but better to be safe than regretful.

“We will man it from this side until your return.”

“And if I do not return?” I tease. “Will you lead the mission to save me, Babis?”

“Yes, I would,” he states with black eyes that darken with determination.

He is entirely serious when I only wished him to take the bait, but he has been nothing but serious all morning, like everyone else I have encountered.

“Give me time before you lead an invasion upon another realm,” I say sardonically, and his gaze darkens. “Suppose the distance I end up is far, and to return is a journey that requires time?”

“Then make the journey quickly,” Babis replies, allowing that and nothing else. “We will all feel it when your Charge is completed, and Ythene blesses the realm once more.”

“Yes, and the festivities will begin, all will celebrate and—”

“All but us,” Babis interjects. “The entire realm will celebrate, while I and the rest of your brood will worry until you return.”

That wipes any mocking from my being as I straighten and force a nod.

Returning the gesture, Babis releases a slow breath before he allows his eyes to pass over me.

“How do you feel in this form?”

“As I always have,” I reply as I look at my own fingers. “Only shorter.”

Shifting into another skin as an elf was no easy task, though we all knew how to do it.

Of our species, the dark sinths, our shapeshifters, had been the first to master the skill and then share the knowledge, as all elves shared our findings.

It was a task I myself learned in my youth, but not one I practised frequently, as it had always challenged me somewhat.

It did not this time around. It had barely taken more than a thought of will and the application of energy as magic, and there I stood, in a near replica of my body before I was named Protector. Only a few heads shorter, with long white hair, golden eyes, and extra-long ears— the perfect elf for the humans to meet.

Research into the human planet had revealed how disjointed the appearance of elves had become without an encounter from one in so long.

They thought us the same height as them, when most of our kind were three heads taller. They had no reference to our sea nymphs, or the webbed hands of sand wraiths, and did not associate dragons with elves at all.

To them, elves appeared to be our fey faction only, and for some odd reason, they believed all elves had a preference for long white hair, when in fact, that was reserved for our royals.

It seemed only wise to arrive in a form least likely to startle. I would, regardless of how I appeared, but with the many unknowns of my Charge, avoiding as much attention as I could seemed imperative.

“This skin holds and I feel comfortable in it,” I say to Babis as I let my hand fall. “I am ready.”

Despite himself, his eyes widen with alarm. I laugh. “Will you be well without me, friend?”

“Yes,” he states before he swallows. “I will and I will watch your brood.”

“Thank you,” I whisper, offering my arm, and he is quick to latch onto it.

I had said my goodbyes ten times over to my family, but not to Babis, my very best friend.

We had been through much together, and out of everyone, it was the strangest to leave him behind. Babis had been with me since we were childlings. I saw him every day, numerous times a day, but would not know.

“The portal can still take another,” he murmurs, and I feel my lips fall into a sad smile.

“Use it if you must come find me,” I reply, and though his shoulders drop, he nods again.

I pull him to me for a firm embrace that he reciprocates. It is only a moment, fleeting, but it is eternal for us before I pull away.

Facing the portal once more, I stare at its cerulean outline while my magic caresses the Sael attached to my soul. The weapon would be hidden until called upon, and other than that, the pouch of seeds at my side and the clothes on my back, was all I would be taking.

I pray, it is all I will need.

I take a step forward, expecting to feel some modicum of fear or apprehension, but neither comes.

I walk forth, but still, the calm remains, even when I find myself standing directly in front of the pulsating force.

I am about to go to another realm, and I feel nothing. I could almost laugh.

Looking back at Babis and my attendants, I raise my fingers to my temple. A farewell. 

They return the gesture, bowing as they do. Over their heads, I glimpse the mountains of Anael in all it’s glory. Pale skies, towing clifftops and the rush of the rivers all around us.

I savour it all for as long as I can, savoring home before I face forward and step through the portal.

The journey within is like any other voyage through gateways across Ythene’s Realm, if only a little longer. It’s a freefall, where mind, body and spirit are parted, broken down to a finite, set of measures that are kept separate before being made whole again.

I come together as Aiasthlyn, as I’ve always been as I emerge on the other side and step into the new world. Onto Earth.

Darkness surrounds me, with nothing to be seen other than the swaying outline of trees in the distance and the flirting unfamiliar stars above.
No one is here, and I am grateful for that because the moment I take my first breath, my lungs are immediately set on fire.

My eyes bulge as poison infiltrates my system, igniting a burn beneath my skin that nearly tears a sound from my lips. I suck in another breath, automatically trying to cleanse the upset, but that only worsens it, because the poison is the air itself.

Air is supposed to be clean and nurturing, but the air of this realm is not. It is disgusting. Polluted and filthy. 

It chokes me, forces tears to my eyes as I automatically step back, seeking a reprieve, but the portal is already closed, so all that finds me is the wind that sails by me.

Raising a fist to my lips, I hold my breath while I reach for the power within the dirt beneath my feet. I am used to a flood of it, of lands so rich they are overflowing with power, but in this one, its offerings are like the air, poisoned.

There is life and power in this planet, but it does not offer itself eagerly, with the understanding that it will be returned. It gives it like an abused animal that has no choice in the matter. 

I feel bitter to receive it, sick with the way my stomach churns, but the fragment of power is mine now, ready to be moulded to my will. I use it reluctantly to strengthen my glamour, adding a layer to filter the air into something purer.

Carefully, I allow myself to inhale, slowly this time. My lungs fill, the poison neutered, and I feel myself relax for the first time as I blink the moisture from my eyes.

What kind of world was this? Where the air itself was so deeply poisoned, and how did they survive here?

Looking around once more, I try to spot anything, but I seem to be in some deserted plot, which is the very last thing I expected. I thought I would arrive amongst others so that the nature of my Charge would be made clear, but for now, there is nothing.

The man I know I must find is not here, and neither is a path to him.

Survival then, until I am able to better familiarise myself with my bearings. 

I would need a shelter first and foremost, and then a plan, but which way to go? Wind brushes against me again, its force undeniable as it comes from the west to stir me east. 

Is that Ythene?

I follow the winds with my gaze, looking into the night sky sparkles overhead. There’s a silver sheen, barely visible but present and that silver glow might be something local to these strange lands, but there is also the chance that it might not be.

I take a step forward, placing my faith into it, and as I walk, my spirit warms.

“So you are with me,” I mumble. As always, Ythene remains silent as always, but she is here.

I bite back my chuckle as I walk deeper into this new realm, ready to begin my Charge.

“Lead the way.”

——————-

IT HAS OFFICIALLY BEGUN!!!!!!! AIASTHLYN IS ON EARTH, WHICH MEANS MALCOLM IS INCOMINGGGGGGG

Thoughts???????

Thoughts on Aias’ family??? Thoughts on their farewell dinner??? Thoughts on his scene with Babis???

With the smart-mouthed Aias we know in Master, I really wanted to make sure we understand his motives, background and character before delving into his story, so we might understand how he acts, thinks and moves, and what motivates him.

I feel like we got that in the first four chapters, so I’m so excited for the story to set sail now, especially with what I have planned for the next chapter hehehe.

So much to see soon!!! We have Kalem meeting incoming and that’s something I have always wanted to write so I’m really looking forward to it!!!!!!

I’m hoping to update again in like 2 weeks, but I’ll let you know if it comes any sooner!

Until next time,
Byeeeeeeeee Humansssssssssss