Page 32 of Eluvonia (Rift of Ages #1)

KAIDA

T he scout returns after days of silence, his expression a blend of relief and urgency as he delivers the news. “Movement in the northern expanse,” he reports. “I tracked a hunting party and found a village— hidden atop the trees, massive, like nothing I’ve ever seen.”

Declan and I exchange a glance. A Fae village, hidden in the expanse? It’s hard to believe. But it’s the best lead we’ve had since Aeris was taken.

Many hours later, we creep through the dense forest, our steps muffled by the thick carpet of leaves.

Shadows stretch long in the fading light, and the air hums with faint sounds of nocturnal life.

The tension between Declan and me is a tangible thread as we make our way toward the scout’s coordinates.

“Imagine a whole Fae village going undetected for gods know how long,” Declan whispers, his tone laced with incredulity .

I grunt in response, my eyes scanning the forest for any sign of movement. “Who knows how many are hiding there? Or how many more villages like this could be out there,” I reply, my voice low and grim.

Ahead, two Fae guards stand at attention, spears in hand, their sharp gazes cutting through the darkness. Declan raises a hand, motioning for me to circle around while he distracts them. I nod, slipping into my shadows like a predator on the hunt.

Declan makes a noise to the right, the sound of snapping twigs drawing the guards’ attention.

One of them steps forward cautiously, his spear angled toward the disturbance.

I move behind the one who remains, my movements silent and deliberate.

In a swift motion, I wrap my hands around his neck and twist hard.

The sickening snap is loud enough to make me wince, and his body crumples into my arms. I lower him gently to the ground.

The second guard doesn’t get the chance to react before Declan lunges from the shadows, his sword flashing in the dim light.

The blade finds its mark, slicing clean through the Fae’s neck and up into his jaw.

Blood sprays as the guard gurgles, his final noises grotesque and wet.

Declan rips his sword free with a grunt, the body collapsing in a heap.

“That seemed a little excessive,” I mutter, eyeing the carnage as Declan wipes his blade clean on the dead guard’s tunic.

He shrugs, his jaw tight. “They pissed me off. ”

I blink at his back as he stalks forward, his usual easy going demeanor replaced by something sharper, darker, I’ve never seen this side of him before.

We move deeper into the forest, the faint sound of laughter drifting down from above. I motion for Declan to stop, and we crouch low, peering through the thick underbrush. Above us, faint yellow lights twinkle like stars, suspended in the canopy.

“That must be the village,” I murmur, my voice barely audible.

Declan nods, his gaze scanning the towering trees. “How do we get up there?”

Our eyes find a massive tree with a winding wooden staircase spiraling upward. We exchange a look before beginning the climb, each step a test of patience and endurance. The stairs creak under our weight, and my legs burn with every upward push, but the thought of finding Aeris keeps me moving.

At the top, we crouch low, peeking over the final step to ensure the coast is clear. The village sprawls out before us, an intricate network of huts connected by wooden bridges. Smoke curls lazily from chimneys, and faint laughter echoes through the air.

Declan leans in close, his breath warm against my ear. “Why can’t we just shift and roast these bastards?”

I glance at him, raising an eyebrow. “Do you want to roast Aeris too?” I ask.

He huffs, and we move forward, sticking to the shadows.

I crouch low, the rough bark of the wooden platform digging into my palms as I steady myself.

The treetop village reeks of sap and rot, the humid air clinging to my skin like a second layer.

Beside me, Declan moves with predator-like precision, his golden eyes scanning each hut as if willing Aeris to appear behind one of the flimsy wooden walls.

“Not here,” he mutters, his voice barely audible.

“Brilliant deduction,” I murmur dryly, shooting him a sideways smirk. My hands twist in the air, tugging at the surrounding shadows. The darkness responds eagerly, cloaking us like a living shroud. “Maybe keep your voice down. Your flashy hair is loud enough on its own.”

Declan’s glare could peel bark off a tree, but he keeps his mouth shut. Smart choice. We slip to the next hut, our footsteps silent as a whisper of wind. I lift a hand to stop him mid-step when low voices seep through the thin wooden walls ahead.

I glance at him, then gesture for him to follow as I hunch lower, creeping under the elevated hut. The structure is propped up on thin stilts, creating a shadowy haven beneath it. Perfect. The voices are clearer now, each word dripping with tension.

I crane my neck, tilting my head just enough to peer through the gaps in the floorboards above. Inside, the silver-haired Fae male paces the cramped room, his movements sharp and deliberate. Across from him stands Esra, her golden hair loose and wild around her shoulders.

Even from here, I can feel the frustration radiating off her.

The silver-haired Fae stops pacing and leans against the wood wall of the hut, his gaze fixed on Esra with a mixture of confusion and curiosity. “I still don’t understand why you hate her so much,” he says, his voice low, almost questioning.

Esra scoffs, frustration boiling over as she paces in tight circles.

“Because she had it easy, Geralt!” she spits, her voice rising with barely-contained rage.

“She got to run around, do whatever she wanted! No responsibilities, no consequences. Why? Because her father hated her. She was free to float through life. Meanwhile, I was the one stuck cleaning, scraping by, serving everyone—never more than an afterthought!” She throws her hands out as if to encompass all the years of resentment, her fury growing with each word.

“Even Leynard—the only male of our age in the clan—had a thing for her. FOR HER!” She stops abruptly, shaking with rage, her hands sweeping down over her body in disgust. “Do you see me? How could anyone choose her over me?”

Geralt’s dark laugh interrupts her tirade, his tone amused. He steps toward her, his eyes glinting with something darker than just humor. “I agree,” he says flatly, though there’s no real sympathy in his voice.

Before Esra can protest, Geralt moves in, pulling her close with a firm, almost possessive grip. She squeaks in surprise, caught off guard by his sudden proximity.

His voice drops to a low, cold murmur as he leans in, biting lightly at her ear before pulling back just as quickly. “But that’s in your past,” he says, his voice colder now, calculating. “I saved you from the Dragons when they enslaved you. I chose you.”

Esra freezes in his grip, the anger in her eyes turning to something sharper, a simmering frustration, but she doesn’t push him away.

Instead, she stands there, her jaw tight, her eyes hard.

He holds her at arm’s length, his gaze almost predatory now.

“But your little revenge plan? It’s changing.

She’s staying with the Fae. I need to know how she has magic— elemental magic .

Our kind has never had that power. And you, Esra…

you need to be patient. She’s a weapon. Don’t let your own anger cloud your judgment. ”

Esra’s hands ball into fists at her sides, her breath shallow as she seethes, “I won’t stop until she suffers, Geralt,” she hisses, her voice low and full of venom, as if each word is a promise. “She’ll regret ever thinking she was free of me. ”

I duck back down, my breath shallow, my mind racing.

So, this is the bastard pulling the strings.

The one who set Aeris up, who fed his people half truths to fuel Esra’s petty vendetta.

My fingernails dig into the wood, my knuckles white with tension.

I don’t know what I feel—rage, disgust, or something darker.

But one thing’s clear: I’ve underestimated this Fae.

The thought of Aeris suffering at the hands of these two makes my blood burn hotter than it ever has before.

This will not stand. Not while I’m still breathing.

Declan nudges me, his golden eyes questioning. My lips curl into a grim smile. “Got it all?” I mouth.

He nods once, his expression hard. I motion for him to move, and we slip away, retreating like shadows melting into the night.

As we crouch behind the next hut, Declan leans in close, his voice a low rumble. “We’re running out of time. If she’s alive—”

“She’s alive,” I cut him off, my voice sharp and certain. “Geralt needs her alive, remember?”

He doesn’t argue, but his jaw tightens, his fists clenching so hard his claws dig into his palms. I don’t blame him. Every second we waste feels like a dagger twisting in my gut.

Then we hear it—a muffled cry, faint but unmistakable. My heart seizes, and I meet Declan’s gaze. Without a word, we move, faster now, but still careful, our steps silent as death.

We slip under the next hut, and I peer through the slats above. My breath catches.

Aeris .

She’s bound to a chair, her head hanging low. Blood streaks her face, dripping onto her torn clothes and pooling beneath her. A Fae guard stands over her, his hand raised to strike .

“Talk!” he barks, his voice harsh and commanding. “What do you know about the shadow commander? About the Dragon army?”

Aeris lifts her head, her breaths shallow but steady. Her voice comes out hoarse, raw. “I don’t… know anything.”

The guard’s hand comes down, the slap echoing in the still night. Aeris lets out a pained cry, but when she lifts her head again, defiance burns in her eyes. “Kill me or stop. I have nothing to tell you.”