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Eventually, Rhezenar and Caarae left the Woods and made homes among the mortals in other areas only known in the faerie tales.

To be honest, I wish the lands the books told of really existed, that Melandrea and Stratho, the communities they built, were real and we could find the old gods, but they truly are gone.

Uldnoir remained in the forest though, never wishing to leave his magical home.

Until the old King of Azudora sought him out.

King Edwin ruled nearly two centuries ago and defeated every other ruler who dared defy him.

Uldnoir had no interest in our politics, only wanting to keep peace between those with magic and those without, trying to make the world a better place.

So Edwin was free to overthrow everyone in his path to ultimate reign.

But even when he achieved it, he still feared threats to his power, to his crown.

Edwin sent soldiers to find Uldnoir, the Keeper, and return him to the capital of Easthallow, where the king resided.

Because what king could be bothered to make a pilgrimage on his own?

Even to a god. He wanted power, as much as the Keeper could impart upon him, to make Edwin the most fearsome leader Azudora had seen.

But the Keeper declined the request, choosing to stay in his magical wood, not feeling Edwin was worthy of such power.

Uldnoir had to have known what denying Edwin would do. He was a god, after all.

When Edwin sent his soldiers back years later, they were armed with more knowledge than before.

He had found witches from the Woods and turned them to his side, taking in all the information he could about how magic worked and how to harness it.

Edwin ordered those soldiers to march upon the Keeper and his people, with blades and spears tipped in emberstone, a powerful crystal that came from the Forsaken Woods.

It was the only element that was thought to injure the mortal form of a god.

Though, no one had yet tried. There was no reason to harm the gods, given all they’d done for us.

But Edwin wanted power and he was willing to stop at nothing to obtain it, including claiming the power of a god as his own.

As the soldiers neared the Forsaken Woods, the Ancients rose to save the Keeper, wanting to keep magic safe.

To keep their god safe. But Uldnoir refused, commanding them to stand down as he cleaved his magic in two.

He ripped the power from his body and molded it into two mortal forms—his daughters, Kiara and Lilith.

The light and dark, the sun and moon, life and death.

The Keeper sent his daughters off, casting them to the farthest reaches of Azudora and saving the power Edwin sought before he was killed by the soldiers.

Perhaps if he’d kept his power, his mortal form would have perished beneath the emberstone spear but his magic—his soul—would have lived on.

But after tearing it from his body and creating his daughters, there was nothing left.

The Keeper perished in that forest that day and many Ancients were taken by the soldiers.

And when he did, he uttered the prophecy that told the future of our world, that these daughters would die one day and come back again, stronger, more powerful.

That the second coming of his daughters would right the world once again, that they would restore the balance of magic.

The words spoken as he died were laced with magic, tying the fate of our world to his daughters.

And that second coming is Bria and Nimai.

Something happened after that day when the Keeper fell.

Something that kept the Incendiary and the Current from seeking vengeance on Edwin, though no one seems to know what that something was.

No one could set foot in the Forsaken Woods afterward.

I asked. Quite a few times, in fact, if we could travel there.

My mother repeatedly told me it was impossible, that the Guardians who protected it would kill any who stepped foot on the soil of the forest. And that they would continue to do so until the daughters of the prophecy returned to their home.

Edwin went on to declare the old gods false deities.

He proclaimed Uldnoir, Rhezenar, and Caarae frauds and thieves.

In the years he spent determining how to kill the Keeper, he created his own religion, his own fake god—Vaohr—to shift the focus of the people.

He announced that those three had stolen Vaohr’s power, that all the magic they had came from Vaohr and that Edwin himself was chosen to return that power to the one true god.

He planned it all out before killing the Keeper.

Edwin promoted men to priests and kept one ancient magic wielder, a witch from the sounds of it, as his high priestess.

They had scoured the earth to learn how to harness magic from the earth, from crystals, and from people.

And they were successful. They imprisoned those with magic, used the Ancients and others until they were nothing more than skin and bones, the magic and life energies drained from their bodies.

The king and the priests used the harnessed magic to keep the kingdom in line, to ensure that everyone in Azudora knew who the rightful wielders of magic were.

In the beginning, those with gifts were told they would be blessed by Vaohr if they returned their magic to him, if they devoted their lives to the temple.

It worked for some time, through Edwin’s reign and that of his descendants.

It wasn’t until Braddock’s father, King Phaelen, was nearing the end of his time as ruler that word began to travel of the dungeons.

They were filled with the bodies of powerful people, reduced to vessels that they had abused for their own gain, their need to control.

Phaelen worked tirelessly to create a level of distrust for those with gifts throughout the communities of Azudora.

Not only that, but he began punishing anyone who protected them, anyone who dared keep powerful people from Vaohr and the Crown.

Slowly but surely, people began to turn on one another, seeking good favor with the Crown and the priests.

Talk of the old gods, of how magic existed because of them, fell away from our lives and memories.

Phaelen laid the conditions Braddock needed when he took over the role of king—fear, confusion, the need to believe in something.

People were desperate. It’s why so many came to his aid when he officially declared war on those with magic.

In his mind, they had plenty of time to turn themselves in.

The families knew what ran in their blood.

So if they had not come to the Crown, to Vaohr, by the time he became king, they were hunted.

It was all to keep Azudora safe, he’d claimed, to keep intruders out and show devotion to the fake god.

What intruders he possibly meant, I didn’t know.

The Godless Mountains lie beyond the Forsaken Woods, on the western border of Azudora and the Feral Sea expands to the east. No one travels farther north than the Kaanos and the southern border is filled with ocean cliffs.

Gods only know if anything lies beyond those seas, what threats Braddock could fear when Azudora is all we know.

But fear is a powerful motivator, and it has worked better than expected in Braddock’s favor.

Quinn and Helara continue their discussion, but I’m too lost in my own thoughts now.

Too focused on the past to remain in the present.

How Helara kept going and pushed forward after all of this was awe inspiring.

She’d lost family to the priests and the king, just like so many in Azudora—parents, siblings, aunts and uncles, friends… left to serve Vaohr and never returned.

The rebels were na?ve at the time of the Uprising, and they’d misjudged the king’s forces.

Helara and Reinhardt were the only two captains who survived that battle.

They didn’t realize the magic Braddock was capable of with the priests at his side.

And when the rebel forces hit Easthallow, they were nearly wiped clean.

Forced to flee to maintain the meager numbers they now had, they’d been driven to the outer reaches of Azudora, to live in hiding amid recent years.

The rebel numbers have grown during our time in hiding and now we have hundreds in the camps and others in the villages, just waiting for the call.

I may not have fought in the battle like Helara and Reinhardt, but I remember the fallout—the push from the priests after that battle to gather as many people as possible with powers to the capital.

That was when my father turned on Bria. And when he turned on my mother as well.

“Have we any word on Nimai?” Quinn probes and my mind slides back to the conversation at hand when I hear her name. Bria’s sister. The other half of the prophecy.

“No, nothing yet,” Helara responds, her brows pinching together. “The last we heard, she still had not exhibited any indication of her gifts. I should be hearing from their mother in the next few days, as her birthday approaches. Cordelia is keeping me informed,” she finishes.

The stress of being captain has worn her features over the years.

Her face is powerful, a strong beauty emanates from her.

But there are fine lines around her eyes, around the corners of her mouth and nose.

The two lines between her brows seem to be permanently etched into her deep bronze skin from the unceasing worry.

Quinn looks at me pointedly before continuing, as if challenging me to interrupt. “You’ve heard of Bria’s new...gift?” I remain silent, waiting to hear what the captain has to say about it.