Silent Orchids (The Age of Alandria: Book One)

by Morgan Wylie

  They had explained that Chel was a kind of shape-shifter—not the werewolf that she originally thought she was but similar. Apparently, when she saw her dad shift, he too had changed into a wolf. But she had taken off before letting her parents fully explain. She had assumed they were werewolves. Chel mentioned how Daegan had briefly explained that to her after she got off of the bridge when she was freaking out about what she was. Apparently it ran in her family to take the shape of wolves as a dominant shift, but with training she should be able to shift into several different animal forms.

  Kaeleigh was happy for her friend that she was coming to terms with who she really was. She was also incredibly shocked to learn Chel’s parents were from here as well—that was their family secret. Finn already knew that he was an Elf; whether he was happy about that or not, at least he knew, but she still didn’t know who or what she was. She felt a little different and she was sure that she had some physical changes even though she hadn’t been able to see her face yet. Neither Finn nor Daegan seemed to want to fill her in; either that, or they really didn’t know, which seemed unlikely.

  “Daegan? I’m curious. If you’re a type of Faerie, shouldn’t you have wings?” Kaeleigh innocently asked.

  Apparently it struck some chord with Daegan though, because he stopped in his tracks and turned back toward her, scowl in place. “We don’t know. It would be prudent of you to not ask that again of a Faerie. It is a sensitive subject.”

  “I didn’t know. I’m sor—”

  Kaeleigh staggered and instantly felt life drain from her once again, as if she might faint. With a deep intake of breath, she gripped Chel’s arm tighter and leaned against her. Her world was rapidly closing in around her as the darkness began to swallow her. She heard the muffled sound of Chel saying her name. The next thing she felt was her body being swept up, feet leaving the ground and strong arms holding her to a chest of solid muscle. Daegan’s voice whispered into her ear for only her to hear, “Hold on, Kaeleigh, we’re almost there. Don’t leave me now.” And Finn’s hand brushing across her forehead—probing her temple—was the last thing she was aware of before she fell into the darkness of her mind.

  Chapter Thirty

  The group approached a little cottage not far from the river and nestled in a small forest of trees unto itself. Just beyond, where the trees began to grow sparse, were sprawling fields of wild flowers of all different colors and kinds—similar to ones found in the mortal realm but much more alive, as if singing with the energies of the earth. Everything here seemed to more alive than anything in the mortal realm. Further still were rolling hills of green in the far distance. Other than the little cottage, there were no signs of any others that might live nearby. It was secluded and hidden.

  Smooth stone pavers lined their way up to the front door of the little cottage that looked like it was straight out of a fairytale that Kaeleigh remembered as a child. As a child she hadn’t been read to much, but when she had the chance to read for herself she devoured them.

  Kaeleigh wasn’t ready to talk to any of her group just yet, so she let her head remain buried in Daegan’s chest, listening to the slow beats of his heart and his steady breathing when he walked. It was comforting. He must have felt her stir, however, because he whispered almost inaudibly for her to just stay still. So she did. She didn’t have the energy to jump up and fight him on how she could walk just fine on her own; she wasn’t actually sure if she could. Kaeleigh was hardly ever even sick, and this inability to do anything for herself or for her friends was infuriating. She felt Daegan rumble in his chest as he quietly shushed her. It was even more infuriating that he could sense her emotional flare-ups. She could feel him silently laugh through his chest.

  Sensing something, Finn asked with a cautiously odd tone in his voice, “Daegan? Who lives here?”

  Just as Daegan was about to answer him, the front door of the cottage opened. Out walked a man who appeared to be in his fifties. He was of average height but looked tall as he stood regally. He was a handsome man, with silver white hair to his shoulders—the only feature on him that gave age to him. He had a type of goatee that was sterling in color and had grown down to his mid-chest, held together by an opalescent bead or stone of some kind. Points tipped his multi-pierced ears and a torque encircled one of his muscular biceps. There was a mark on his wrist that looked exactly like the one on Finn’s arm with the exception of a small addition that Kaeleigh couldn’t quite make out from where she was. His arms were folded across his chest in an unapproachable manner and he was holding a long walking stick, but didn’t appear to actually be using it or needing it. He was intimidating, to say the least. Looking all of his intruders over, he stopped at Daegan with a raised eyebrow in question.

  “So, errand boy, what errand are you on for the royal wannabes this time?” the man said with a chuckle and a partial smile.

  Daegan growled in his chest, but must have decided to let it go as he relaxed and inclined his head in deference to the older man. Still holding Kaeleigh made it a bit awkward. With his head down he asked, “Sir, I beg forgiveness for our intrusion but we have need of some rest. Would you allow us in?”

  “No need to be so formal, young Daegan. You must have traveled far. Of course you may rest in my home,” the man said as he eyed Chel with curiosity and then Finn suspiciously with a scowl. His gaze fell to Kaeleigh and then back to Daegan with a confused and yet somewhat surprised expression on his face. “Inside. We will talk,” he said tersely then began to walk. “Put her on the bed in the room off the side,” he said as he went into the house, expecting them to follow, but as he did he took a sweeping gaze on all the outlying land surrounding his home.

  Once inside the house, Daegan slipped Kaeleigh onto the bed in the room where the man had instructed him to go. As he was about to leave, Kaeleigh grabbed his wrist weakly. Surprised, he looked down at where she was holding his arm and then back to her half-lidded eyes. “Am I... What’s happening to me?” she asked with a slight tremor to her words.

  He sighed then leaned down close to her face. “You ask too many questions.” She didn’t let go so he continued. “I do not know,” he said, clearly frustrated, “but I am hopeful he can help us... help you.” His head jerked toward the main room of the cottage. “Now stay here and sleep.” He slipped out of her grip and strode toward the door just as Finn was standing in his way blocking him. “Out of my way, Finn!” Daegan quietly grumbled.

  “No, I need to feel Kaeleigh’s head... I can read her and try to understand the problem,” Finn said, frustrated he had to explain himself. He was her friend. He pushed his way past Daegan into the room beside Kaeleigh’s bed. Turning his head back slightly toward Daegan, he said, “I can’t be here.” His voice was more quiet as he hung his head. “I have to leave as soon as I know Kaeleigh’s all right.”

  Daegan gave him a curious look then left the room. Kaeleigh grabbed Finn’s hand. “Don’t leave me, Finn. We need you,” she slurred out.

  He just patted her hand then went about gliding his hand across her forehead, probing all around her head and neck as if he was some kind of doctor. After several minutes, he sighed, drained from what he just did and confused because he was only able to get a partial read on Kaeleigh. He had always been able to get more than that. The bridge should have stripped down her senses completely, allowing him to get a full interpretation of what her body was going through. It was a gift he had to read what a person was going through by the means of physical touch—almost like a healer except without the actual ability to do anything. Useless.

  Frustrated at his outcome, but satisfied that she had finally fallen asleep, he watched the unsteady rhythm of her breathing for a few seconds, afraid to leave her but ultimately did to face what and who was out in the main room of the little cottage that suddenly felt extremely too small.

  Daegan was introducing Chel to the white-haired man that was stoking the fire in the main room of the house. It was a very comfortable room with a
couple of soft and squishy chairs and a small bench like a sofa. All very natural to the elements and nature itself. The man must have been some kind of horticulturist, as rare breeds of plants and herbs grew all over the house inside and out. He didn’t have many personal belongings used in decorating, but there were paintings of various trees and landscapes. One large piece of art on the main wall was familiar to Finn. He had seen it before. Where? It was a scene in the clearing of a forest that he had spent much of his time growing up around—a place his parents were fond of. His heart began to hurt; it began to speed up with the haunting need for him to leave this place.

  The older man looked back at him; really looked at him. He cocked his head in confusion; then the man’s face took on an “aha” expression when his mind processed all that was before him. The old man looked from Finn to Daegan then back at the closed bedroom door where Kaeleigh was sleeping. He subtly clenched his fists, then took a deep cleansing breath.

  “Finnlan,” he said with recognition while Daegan and Chel looked dumbfounded, “I see you have failed at what seemed to be simple instructions.” The old man paused to see if Finn would refute his statement, but all he did was hang his head in defeat. The man continued, sighing. “Just as well, she would have ended up here eventually, but at least you kept her safe all these years... until now,” he said, more angered as he realized that she was not all right. “What is wrong with her?” The old man glared at Finn.

  Daegan interrupted, “We do not know, sir, we thought you might be able to help her.”

  “It happened at the bridge,” Finn added. “I have never seen it do what it did with her. It seemed to strip her from the inside out, not only glamour but all of her.” Finn continued with a renewed strength because he had to for Kaeleigh; she needed him. “I know we shouldn’t be here and I did what I could, but if you knew her you’d know she can’t be stopped when her mind is made up.” He paused, pleading, “Please help her, you are the only one who can.” Finn bowed his head.

  Sighing, the old man—whom Finn knew to be much, much older than his appearance—put his hands on his head. “Do you know what kind of danger she is in? Do you understand what seeks her out?” He was pacing now as he seemed to be trying to weigh his options.

  Daegan boldly stepped in front of him. “I do not know what is going on here, but if...”

  The old man cut him off with a wave of his hand, then turned back to Finn. “Do they know?” Finn shook his head. “Does she know?” Again Finn shook his head.

  “Does she know what?” Kaeleigh said, weak but stern, now standing or at least holding herself up by leaning in the doorway, looking from Finn to Daegan to the old man and back to Finn. Everyone stood silently staring at her. “Well?” she demanded. The white-haired man gave the slightest smirk at her unabashed boldness.

  “It is nice to finally see you again, Kaeleighnna,” the old man said as he inclined his head toward her. Finn grumbled something sounding like “not the time,” obviously disapproving of what the man had said to her. He simply waved Finn off.

  “Too late. She is here, no thanks to you,” he said, eyeing Finn. “She must know to keep her safe.”

  Taken aback by the usage of the name that the dryad priestess had used with her, she just looked at the old man, then finally remembered her manners. “I’m sorry, who are you?” Then she sagged a little more against the doorframe. All three of the men rushed toward her to help but the old man was surprisingly faster and even shooed them off her. Chel stood in the corner by the fire, completely confused, but eyes wide trying to take it all in.

  “I beg your pardon, let me introduce myself. Many here call me ‘Hunter.’ Please come sit by the fire,” he said as he directed her to one of the chairs.

  “But that’s not what you are really called, is it?” Kaeleigh asked with a small grin. “Let me guess. You aren’t going to tell us who you really are... are you?” she said with a bit of snark, but she could be dying for all she knew so she didn’t care.

  Hunter chuckled. “No, it is not and I am not. Smart one, this girl,” he said, looking over at Finn.

  “Why don’t you tell her who you really are, Hunter,” Finn said. Hunter shot him an incredulous glare then slid his gaze over to Daegan. Finn started again, “No, let me rephrase... why don’t you tell her who you are to her.”

  Kaeleigh, along with the others, watched this interaction carefully. Hunter seemed to be considering what Finn asked of him, then grinned. “Yes, I suppose I should.” Turning back to Kaeleigh, he said soberly, “Kaeleighnna, or Kaeleigh, is it?” When she nodded he continued, “There is much I can not share because of present circumstances within Alandria and the sensitivity of that which has remained hidden—”

  Kaeleigh interrupted with a frustrated, “Here we go again with the ‘let me tell you something but it’s not the entire story and I can’t tell you anything of real value because you get to go on a wild goose chase to try and figure it out for yourself.’ Or is it the much used, ‘It will all be revealed in due time’... whatever the heck that means,” she rambled.

  Chel and Finn gasped. Kaeleigh rolled her eyes. At least I didn’t swear!

  Hunter stared at her, then laughed. “You are much like him, you know?”

  “No, I don’t know! Because no one will tell me anything that makes any sense to me,” she replied strongly.

  “Your father... that is who you remind me of,” he replied, waiting for her response.

  Stunned and clearly not expecting what he just said, she and everyone but Finn stared at the man. “My... my father?” she stammered. “You know... knew... my father?” She sounded like a fool, not knowing whether her father was even alive or not.

  “Yes, I was very close with your father once. He is alive, although many do not believe it to be true. Sadly, it must remain that way... for now,” he said.

  “WHAT?! I have a father?... and he’s ALIVE!” she barely croaked out with what little strength she could muster with tears running down her face. Chel was crying too and holding Kaeleigh’s hand off to the side of the chair.

  Daegan interjected, “How do you know all this? How do you even know who she is?” It was the question that was on everyone’s mind.

  Hunter bowed his head, which seemed an odd thing to do in his own house, but humbly he said, looking at Kaeleigh, “Because, Kaeleighnna, I am your grandfather.”

  Glossary of Terms~

  Alandria: A realm parallel to our mortal realm inhabited by several races of magical beings and creatures. Created by the Originators also known as The Orchids.

  Exhile: Another realm, where the condemned souls of the non-human go to spend eternity in unrest or until they are devoured and absorbed into the land, whichever comes first.

  Ferrishyn: (fair-i-shin) They are the warrior race of Faeries, mostly male, in the territory of Feraánmar. They serve as hunters, guides, and guardians. Elite members become a part of the royal guard for the Paladin.

  Earth Faeries: The most common race of Faeries. They are cultivators and growers for Alandria, their magic strengthened from the earth itself even as they give back to it.

  Ehsmia: (a.k.a. The Hidden People), An ancient race of faeries that have been in hiding to protect their race from extinction—though they are already believed to be of legend, if at all. Their magic is stronger as they retain a fraction of the ‘old magic’, as opposed to the magic of Earth Faeries. Though they are blessed with long life, they are cursed with slow reproduction.

  Elves: At one point were the majority race in Alandria. They have a base magic as most do in Alandria, but some are gifted with more abilities than others. Their magic is strengthened from the light of the sun, moon, and stars.

  Shifters: A race of beings that have the ability to shift into an animal. Those of greater strength and magic, may have the ability to shift into more than one animal form rather than just one.

  The Orchids: An illusive collective of heads from various races united together originally to flee d
arkness thus creating Alandria. Considered the Originators and make up the group considered the Elders. Their goal to unite Alandria against the darkness that stirs upheaval against the kingdoms.

  The Droch-Shúil: Is an evil entity. It is an ancient host collecting souls that went bad—the unforgiven dead. It grows with the strength and magic of the souls it consumes. Also considered a kind of demon.

  Ferriers: Not quite Faeries or Elves for that matter, an ancient creature nonetheless existing in Alandria but not of it. They are neither alive nor dead, but simply exist. They are not anchored to any particular realm as they are the ferriers. They escort souls to their beyond whether it be where they are transitioned into rest, reborn, or to Exhile. They are non-partial or so it is believed. They are not to be involved other than departures.

  Ónarach: A faction of Elves—mostly—that chose to go against their nature and against their race by taking the lives of Elders in order to consume their magic for their own gain transforming them into something dark.

  Paladin: The governing rulers of a territory, specifically Feraánmar territory of the Faeries, that took reign when the King and Queen died.

  Sol-lumieth: A new power, a new magic, that was foretold in an ancient prophecy to return the light and life—the hope—of Alandria.

  NaNai: The ancient Oak trees that were originally used to contain and protect some of the ancient magic that was transported at the inception of Alandria. They were brought into Alandria and even scattered and deposited into the mortal realm by the original Elf lords of the forest. As the ancient magic fails, so do the great oaks.

  * Several races that were used in The Age of Alandria series are inspired from various mythologies throughout history.