None of them spoke a word for what felt like hours until they came across an alcove of trees with a cliff hanging over it, which was where Lanna decided to stop. Feyrith wanted to keep going, terrified that that elf would find them, but rationally he knew that they were too far away to be found easily and that their quasir needed to rest.
Still, he only reluctantly climbed off his quasir, leaning on it as he struggled to find his footing. If anything, he now felt even less steady on his feet. For the first time in his life, he just wanted to sleep and ignore his troubles for the few hours of oblivion it would give him. But he would try to stay conscious for now, as it would be incredibly rude to his human companions. They had just rescued him, and while that didn’t make his situation much better, he owed them gratitude at the very least.
Which meant being unable to escape his thoughts and the horrible reality that was now his life.
“T-thank you,” he finally managed to force out as they sat down among the trees. Neither of the humans was trying to collect firewood, which was good because giving away their position would be about the worst thing they could do at the moment. “For rescuing me. Again.”
“Yeah, of course,” Arbane replied, patting the elf’s shoulder. “We weren’t going to just leave you there.”
Feyrith was about to point out how dangerous what they’d done had been, and there was no need to try to trivialize it, but then he realized something very obvious. “Edwyr is still not with you?”
It had completely flown over his head in the rush of things, but now it was impossible to miss. Arbane and Lanna immediately scowled, making Feyrith worry he’d said something wrong, but then Lanna answered.
“No, and he’s not going to be with us anymore.” Feyrith frowned, not sure what that was supposed to mean, but thankfully Lanna continued after a moment. “Those people that attacked you—Edwyr decided to join them.”
Feyrith blinked, frowning as he tried to wrap his head around this. He could tell the humans didn’t want to talk about it, and technically this was none of Feyrith’s business, but he couldn’t help but ask for an explanation. Why would those elves want a Cursed one to join them?
“What would they want with Edwyr?”
He received an odd look from both of the humans, but neither of them commented on it. “He said they would give him magic.”
Feyrith was immediately about to question that when he froze, realizing what this could mean. Curing Edwyr’s condition should not only be impossible, but it would also just be…wrong. But then the elves who had attacked him didn’t seem very concerned with following anything the Council or the Goddess had to say.
Still, even though Feyrith still doubted that curing a Cursed elf was possible, it couldn’t have been a coincidence that his own magic had been taken away from him at the same time. What if they somehow planned on giving his magic to Edwyr? What if he’d not only let someone take the Goddess’ gift from him, but also helped give it to a Cursed elf?
That thought made all of this so much worse. The Council would be right to not even let him cross the border after all of this. But he had to tell them what happened. He had no doubts that the female elf had intended for him to give the Council a fake message and then kill him or at least wipe his mind, so that the elves on Aendor would never know what had happened.
“Are you okay, Fey?” Lanna asked, looking at him with worried eyes. “She didn’t hurt you, did she?”
Feyrith let out a shuddering breath, his shoulders slumping as he hung his head. He had to tell them, if only to warn them about him not being able to protect them anymore.
“She took my magic away.”
“What?” Arbane exclaimed, his voice far too loud in the deathly silent night. “How is that even possible? That’s….”
The man trailed off, realization in his eyes as they widened. Next to him Lanna looked horrified, clearly also coming to the same conclusion. Feyrith didn’t want this theory to prove true, but it simply made too much sense not to be.
“We have to go back and tell Edwyr,” Arbane said after a moment of stunned silence. “He wouldn’t do this if he knew—”
“We can’t. That elf will kill us. Even staying here is probably too risky,” Lanna reminded him, letting out a sad, defeated sigh. “Besides, you heard him. Do you really think he’d turn away from these people, even if he knew?”
“Hey, you’re just pissed at him right now. Of course he’d care,” Arbane argued, but he didn’t sound like he believed it much himself. Then he sighed as well, hanging his head. “But you’re right. Dammit.”
Feyrith decided not to say anything. He still didn’t know much about humans, but they were grieving over the fact that their friend had left them, and he was concerned that if he said something that would be deemed as insensitive, they might yell at him. He wasn’t sure he would be able to handle that at the moment. Even now he was doing all he could not to break down in front of them. He couldn’t bring even more shame to his people, but it was so difficult….
“I have to….” Feyrith cleared his throat to hopefully steady his shaky voice a bit. “I have to report to the Council.”
“They’ll fix this, right? You’ll be fine?” Lanna asked. Feyrith found it impossible to reply at that moment. He felt like he was choking, and if he even tried to make a noise, he knew he would start crying. So he just shook his head.
Of course, it was theoretically possible someone on Aendor would be able to help him, but it was incredibly unlikely. He’d never heard or read about anything like this happening, so why would they know how to deal with it? And even if he could be helped, he didn’t think it would be right to fix it. The Goddess had made this happen for a reason, and it was his own fault, anyway.
And beyond losing his magic he’d also lost his staff, to make matters even worse.
“I’m no use to them like this,” he forced out, somehow managing to keep his voice mostly neutral. “They will banish me.” He shut his eyes as his voice broke at the end, shaking his head.
He flinched as he felt arms wrap around him. He almost pushed Lanna away immediately, his instinct to defend himself kicking in, but he stopped himself. It…felt nice, shockingly, even though it just made his tears spill over. He was sure he’d seen humans do this before, but he hadn’t noticed them reacting so dramatically to it.
Why was this affecting him so much? Even as Lanna pulled away, Feyrith took in a shaky breath, feeling just as upset as he had when she was still hugging him, and he couldn’t shake it off.
“Look, I don’t get anything about elves but….” Lanna paused, looking Feyrith right in the eye in a firm, uncompromising way. “If they do, you can come find us.”
Feyrith stared at her. What did this mean? Surely they realized that he couldn’t do much for them now that he couldn’t even summon the simplest shield. But seeing Arbane nod at him as both of the humans smiled at him, Feyrith couldn’t force himself to argue. He supposed he would have plenty of time to talk about this later.
“Come on, we should go somewhere else,” Lanna said, sighing again as she got up. “We’re too out in the open here.”
Feyrith said nothing, agreeing with her silently. He had to pull himself together. It didn’t matter what would happen to him. The important thing was to get the information about these hostile elves to the Council. He had failed so many times already, but he couldn’t fail at this.
If this was his final mission, then so be it. This grave piece of news was more important than him, anyway, and it was his duty to deliver it.
Feeling at least motivated enough to get up and move, Feyrith mounted his tired quasir, making it trot behind the two humans as they once again set off, the three of them disappearing into the night.
25
It took them four days to get back, on account of Feyrith not having magic to protect them against the beasts anymore. But at least worrying about their safety had kept Feyrith’s mind distracted from what was to come.
Unfortunately, that distraction was long gone, now that he was standing in front of the tall, ornate door to the Council’s chamber, waiting for them to let him in. He was terrified, of course. He’d never actually stood before the Council like this, only having spoken with a few of its members alone, but he would have to keep calm.
There was no one here to see him practically shake with anxiousness, but did little to help him. Soon, there would be up to twenty of the most powerful magic users in the world staring him down as he explained his failure.
If he hadn’t learned what he had, he would have likely decided against coming here in the first place. He would rather the elves thought he was dead than have them banish him, but this needed to be done. No one had yet noticed his lack of magic, as he hadn’t been forced to use it yet, but there was no point in trying to hide it.
Feyrith stared at the dark, marble walls of the hall he was standing in with sadness, knowing that this would be one of the last moments he’d see them in his life. Thinking about that only made him feel worse, but he couldn’t stop. He would never see any of this again. Once he left Aendor, there would be no coming back for him. And the only time he could catch a glimpse of the island would be when standing on the opposite coast.
He flinched as the door suddenly swung open, illuminating the hall with the sunlight coming through the Council chamber’s glass, bulbous ceiling. It was time.
Feyrith swallowed, trying not to look too nervous as he walked in, keeping his head bowed. But even like this, he could see that most of the chairs on the two podiums around him were empty. That was disappointing, albeit not surprising, he supposed. The Councilors had important things to do, and an elf from the Third Circle was hardly a priority, no matter what he had to say. Feyrith had stressed that this was important, but as long as some would listen to him, he supposed it didn’t matter.
“Feyrith Senari Werion,” said the Councilor directly facing him as Feyrith arrived at the thin lectern in the middle of the room. All of the seats for the Councilors were elevated to six feet above the floor Feyrith was standing on, making them even more intimidating.
The Councilor leaned onto the banister in front of her, her face completely free of expression. It was quite jarring after spending more than a week with humans. “You have not used your communication stone as instructed. Explain.”
Feyrith almost sighed. As if that was important right now. But he had to do this by the rules. “It was stolen from me.” A mutter went around the room as the six Councilors present exchanged their opinions about it. Feyrith didn’t wait to be prompted to continue. “Another elf took it.”
This time, a deathly silence filled the large room, the Councilors staring at him with barely disguised shock.
“Another elf?” a Councilor repeated, his voice laced with doubt. As Feyrith risked a glance at him, he suddenly noticed that Councilor Hellan wasn’t here either. She was the one who had sent him on this mission in the first place, and she wasn’t even interested in what she had to say? No, she must have been too busy with something.
“That is impossible. There are none of our operatives in that area,” another Councilor argued dismissively.
“She was not with the Council,” Feyrith continued, doing his best to ignore the stunned silence. He needed to use it to tell them everything he knew. They were not convinced so far, but hopefully explaining the situation would make them believe him. “In the ruins, she attacked me, and…took my magic.”
Yet another stunned silence followed, but this time Feyrith didn’t manage to continue talking before one of the Councilors did. “What do you hope to gain with such lies?”
Feyrith found himself surprisingly angry with the elf who’d said this, but he didn’t get a chance to respond.
“That is preposterous,” another said, speaking directly to the other Councilor. “No elf would lie about not having magic. We all know what it would mean.”
“Perhaps he has been Cursed and invented this story to make us consider letting him stay.”
“No one has ever received the Curse in adulthood, Kilren.”
“Then how else do you explain this impossible story?”
Very quickly, the conversation became impossible to understand as the Councilors started speaking over each other, their usually neutral, cold tones angry and confused.
As Feyrith listened to the chaos, his urge to do something started to build. He wasn’t even sure what. He just knew he couldn’t listen to this anymore. They were more interested in creating theories to explain away what Feyrith was saying rather than listen to him.
Perhaps it was his new lack of magic, or perhaps it had been the influence of humans, but he’d never felt such sharp irritation and impatience as he was feeling now.
And as the dialogue around him got ever louder, he did what he’d never thought he would or could. He shouted at the Council.
“Listen to me!”
All of them fell silent, too shocked to react. And Feyrith would be too if whatever had made him say that wasn’t pushing him to keep going.
“I did not lie. I wish all of this was not the truth, but it is. An elf attacked me and took my magic. And there are more like her out there. I do not know how it is possible, but it is.”
The silence that followed was completely stifling. Feyrith knew he had no reason to care anymore—they would banish him either way—but he immediately regretted his outburst and felt ashamed of having done so. He needed to make them hear him out, but he shouldn’t have done it like this. They would have given him time to speak, surely.
“Do you have any proof of your claim?”
Feyrith opened his mouth, about to snap at the Councilor that his lack of magic should be enough for that, but he said nothing. He didn’t have any tangible proof of what had happened to him. But he wouldn’t let that stop him.
“Is my word not enough?”
The Councilors looked over at each other, still not convinced. Feyrith could feel his utter frustration building. He’d never been suspected of lying by any other elf. Why were they so reluctant to believe him? Why would he have made this up?
“Did you discover what is the source of the energies in those ruins?” one of them finally asked, making Feyrith sigh and duck his gaze.
“No.”
“Very well, then we need to send someone more capable there,” the Councilor said, barely sounding like she cared. And her uninterested tone only became more apparent as she continued. “As for you, on accounts of your own admission to being Cursed—”
“I didn’t—”
“I suggest you be stripped of your rank immediately, and banished,” she finished, narrowing her eyes at Feyrith for interrupting her. “All in favor?”
Feyrith felt like he was being crushed under the weight of his despair as all of the Councilors raised their hands in unison. They didn’t even wait for him to react, getting up as soon as the decision had been made and officially proclaimed and leaving through the many doors behind them before Feyrith could muster any kind of response.
Feyrith leaned onto the lectern in front of him, his eyes stinging with tears of frustration and a hopeless sense of confusion. Why did they not care? Why did they not take him seriously? He had been ready to be banished, he’d known it would happen, but this…. He just didn’t understand. Whoever they sent to the ruins instead of him might face the same fate as he did—it would be irresponsible to not listen to Feyrith about what exactly had happened.
None of this made sense or felt right. Unless….
Feyrith’s frowned. What if they had believed him, but they pretended not to because the truth was too frightening to accept? Feyrith would have never doubted the Council, but they’d acted irrationally just now, brushing him off instead of hearing him out fully before making a decision. The Council taught them to never think with their emotions, and only listen to facts and logic, so what did it mean when the Council themselves let their emotions rule their minds?
Feyrith swal
lowed, pulling himself up to his full height. There was the bitter taste of betrayal in his mouth as anger slowly replaced his confused sorrow. He’d never been angry with the Council, let alone as angry as he was right now, but he wasn’t interested in hiding those feelings at the moment.
Fine, then. If the High Council wasn’t interested in dealing with and investigating this new threat, then perhaps he would.
It sounded crazy to even consider, but if the last few days had taught him anything, it hadn’t been magic that had saved him constantly—it had been two humans and a Cursed elf, using nothing but their weapons and wits. And besides, his only hope of getting his magic back were the elven traitors who had taken it in the first place, so if he wanted to ever come back from his banishment, this was the only way.
But this was also bigger than him, much bigger. If there were elves out there using their magic for evil, what would that mean for the humans, the ones whose safety was their ultimate mission to ensure?
Feeling strangely invigorated by these thoughts and his barely contained fury, Feyrith turned around, marching out of the Council’s Chamber, his footsteps echoing loudly.
He wasn’t ready to give up just yet, and while he still had yet to discover just what was happening here and why, he knew one thing—he was not yet defeated, and this was far from over.
Also by Gabriela Fišerová
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