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Hawthorne

The least understood of the conduits for magic is that of air. Some aspects of air channeling, like wind manipulation and levitation, are easy to grasp; however, the more complex aspects of air channeling, such as aerstepping, have confused scholars for centuries. Some scholars have even gone as far as to suggest there is a separate conduit for the aether that aersteppers use—space. Since not all air channelers can aerstep, the argument makes logical sense to many scholars. These debates have raged for centuries, and the only thing scholars can agree on is that the aether’s mysteries have yet to be fully unraveled.

The Unabridged History of Magical Orders, Volume I

My trunks are packed with all the items I’ll need for an indefinite trip to Thayaria—clothes, weapons, books, and two trunks full of wine. I’m not taking any chances that there isn’t any alcohol in the isolated kingdom. Fionn and Silene are also packed, though they have far fewer trunks than me. We stand together in my chambers, servants hauling our trunks out on wheels. I scan each room of my suite, looking for anything valuable or important I may have left behind. Seeing nothing, I slip the small satchel with my most prized possessions—my mother’s family ring, a dagger that belonged to my mother’s brother, and three letters my mother wrote me as a child, the parchment now worn soft—over my shoulder, steeling myself for what’s to come.

As usual, Silene is the de facto commander of our little group. Dressed in a light traveling dress, she directs the servants and even forces Fionn to go wash his hands. “The dirt under your nails will make a horrid impression,” she tells him.

He growls. “I have dirt under my nails because I’m a warrior. That is the impression I want to make.” But he concedes, quickly scrubbing his hands and under his nails in the bathing chamber.

When all the trunks have been hauled away, the three of us share a moment where we let the fear show on our faces before locking it and my suite away.

“You guys go ahead to the departure ceremony. I don’t want my father to be angry with you for being late,” I tell them.

“And you plan to be late?” Silene asks. I only grin. She sighs, ushering Fionn down the hall as I turn left from my room and make my way toward my mother’s chambers.

Pulling a key from my pocket, I unlock the door and step inside the suite, my eyes scanning the room as early morning light illuminates the swirling dust. I take in a deep inhale, desperately wanting to smell her scent lingering but knowing it disappeared from the space hundreds of years ago. I can almost see her spectral figure pacing back and forth, lecturing me on the importance of using my power for good as I practiced conjuring light orbs and releasing them. My lips quirk in a smile.

She was beautiful, known throughout Velmara for both her looks and her kind heart. She hated my father and did her best to keep him away from me when I was young. Her influence, though short-lived, shaped me into who I am today, and I’m so grateful that she kept me out of my father’s clutches during my early years.

“I miss you,” I whisper, emotion lacing my voice. Not for the first time, I wonder what she would think of the male I’ve become. Deep down, I worry she’d be ashamed of the flirty, irreverent, unfeeling person I pretend to be. I have so many memories of her teaching me what leadership meant, urging me to be a better ruler than my father. Even at eight years old, she insisted that it was my responsibility to uphold the values that the Velmaran Crown should stand for. I was born to live in the light, she would always say. Now I slink through the shadows, trying to secretly undermine my father while pretending to the Velmaran people that I don’t care about them. I feel a sudden need to explain to the room what I’m doing, like somehow whispering my plans to go to Thayaria will serve as atonement to her memory. “I’m going to Thayaria to try and find something to stop father. You always told me it was beautiful there, always said I would visit someday. I can’t wait to see it for myself and see your prediction come true.” My eyes sting, and I have to pull myself away from the only room that has ever felt like home. “Goodbye, mama.”

With my final goodbye, I turn from the room and lock the door behind me again, then create an intricate and invisible knot of magical light to seal it from any unwanted visitors. I let my hand linger on the door for another beat, then pull myself away and toward whatever fate awaits me in Thayaria.

A large crowd has gathered in the throne room, and I internally roll my eyes. Of course he would make a spectacle of this . My father sits on his gold throne, embellished with gems and carvings of various Velmaran landscapes. As I approach, his eyes bore into me. When I stand by his side on the platform, he hisses, low enough for only me to hear even as he keeps a smile plastered on his face. “You’re late.”

“Am I?” I feign. “Guess I forgot what time we were meeting.”

He only stands to address the waiting crowd. They hush in reverence. “Thank you all for joining me as I send off my only child with the hope that we can repair Velmara and Thayaria’s tenuous relationship. Thank you for sending Prince Hawthorne off to the Witch Queen,” he yells loudly, the crowd booing at the mention of the Witch Queen. He holds up a hand and they quiet again. “I know you fear for the Crown Prince at the hands of the Witch Queen, but she has assured me that he will have every protection and comfort his station commands.” Highly unlikely . “Though I myself have feared the Witch Queen and cowed from her magic, I believe it’s time for us to offer her the olive branch of friendship. It is for her to accept, and, hopefully, through her friendship with Velmara, turn away from her wicked witchcraft. Prince Hawthorne and his entourage will be the first people, human or fae, to step foot on Thayarian soil in three hundred years. If anyone can restore Thayaria to what it once was and set the Witch Queen on the right path again, it is Velmara’s Shining Prince!” he yells as cheers erupt.

The people are eating up his speech as palace scribes copy down every word to send out a copy to the kingdom. I’m seething by the time he finishes uttering his false pieties and grandstanding. His words from our conversation echo in my mind. Thayaria is not as impenetrable as you may think , he had said. What did he mean by that? I’m lost in thought when he calls the three of us forward to be aerstepped.

He pats me on the shoulder, and I want to grimace. Leaning closer to me, he uses his air magic to bring his whisper to my ears only. “Do not forget my threats, Hawthorne. And threats they were. You will get close to Witch Queen, or I’ll make the lives of the two people behind you miserable in every way I know how.”

With a flourish of his hand, tightness squeezes my body for several seconds, tingles dancing across my shoulders and down my back. My eyes briefly close, and when I open them, I’m standing on a wooden pier with a thick, eerie wall of mist rising above me.

Fionn reacts instantly, stepping in front of Silene and me, his hand hovering near the dagger I know hides at his waist. As one of the most powerful metal channelers in Velmaran history, Fionn wouldn’t even need to touch the weapon to make it fly forward towards its target. The pier we stand on extends far into the ocean, waves jostling the wooden planks, though the massive wall of mist ahead of us is more concerning. Shimmering blue gray swirls from the surface of the sea and up, even my strong fae sight not able to find where the hazy wall ends. Nothing is visible through it. If I didn’t know that a kingdom lay on the other side, I might think this is the end of the world, some line marking the boundary of the Four Kingdoms. I wonder how Queen Laurel manages it. Though I’ve heard stories about it almost my entire life—being nearly the same age as the Queen—the barrier is even more impressive in person.

All magic users draw their power from the leylines of the aether running through our world and must channel its magic through a conduit. Most fae have an affinity for one, maybe two, conduits. No one knows the Witch Queen’s conduit affinity, whether it’s one of the five common conduits or something more obscure, and that’s what leads so many to fear her mysterious power. Even Silene’s theory that she has an affinity for all conduits doesn’t explain the mist. My father’s official story is that she’s a blood channeler, meaning she uses blood to cast spell work, a forbidden form of magic considered evil amongst the fae.

Whatever her secrets, I will discover them and determine what to tell my father later.

The mist stirs, white ribbons moving lazily, before it parts. A group of fae step forward to greet us. An elderly fae with a long white beard and twinkling blue eyes and a tall and severe dark-skinned female stand in front of the group. The female radiates power, covered in weapons and striding confidently toward us. When she approaches, I bow, assuming this to be Queen Laurel. Silene nudges my arm.

“Welcome to Thayaria, Prince Hawthorne,” the female says with a menacing smirk. “I’m Nemesia Nestern, the Chair of the Council of Advisors of Thayaria. I will be aerstepped to Velmara as your counterpart shortly, but I couldn’t miss the opportunity to greet you as you enter Thayaria.” So, this is the famous General who led Thayaria’s armies in the war with Velmara. Her reputation for being nearly as fierce as the Witch Queen herself tracks with the female standing before me. I scan the faces of the females behind Nemesia, wondering which is Queen Laurel and why she hasn’t identified herself. I find only stoic expressions staring back at me. “You will not find Her Majesty among us, if that is what you look for. Queen Laurel does not need to be present to extend her will to the mist and allow you and your court to enter Thayaria.”

I work to keep my face neutral. If the mist is the result of blood magic, I expected that Queen Laurel would need to be present with blood to cast spellwork to part the mist. We were briefed by my father’s aethermasters that she may even require samples of our own blood to allow us to pass. I glance at Silene, wondering if she’s thinking the same thing as me. Her face is thoughtful, brows furrowed, and lips pursed.

“Of course,” I say with a wide and charming smile. “She must be very busy. Thank you for greeting us in her stead.” Nemesia’s gaze only hardens, and she squares her shoulders as she crosses her arms.

“Please do follow us through the mist barrier,” the male says, his voice a bit kinder. “It’s thick for about twenty paces, but once you’re through you’ll find visibility is rather normal the farther you travel from the coast.” With that, the group of Thayarians turn and begin to walk back through the mist. I hesitate for only a moment, then push forward through my trepidation. Silene and especially Fionn need to see my confidence in order to take those steps themselves into the thick haze.

As soon as I cross the misty barrier, visibility is completely gone. I feel Fionn place his hand on my shoulder and hope Silene has done the same behind him. The mist has an energy to it I did not expect, almost like it’s sentient. It laps at my face and hands, stroking gentle caresses across my skin. As it slides down my back, I relax, certain it’s safe and won’t harm me or my friends. When I reach the edge of the barrier and take my first steps into Thayarian territory, it lingers at my side for just a moment, like the tendrils don’t want to let me go, before it snaps back into the barrier that is more wall than mist.

Fionn and Silene return to my side as we gaze at the small town in front of us. It looks just like any port town in Velmara, though with much more vibrant and lush foliage growing around it and the lingering mist that gives it a sleepy feeling. Rather than multiple slips, there’s one long pier that extends beyond the mist for ships to dock at while Thayarians quickly unload the goods. Beyond the pier, stone buildings line a single thoroughfare through the center of the town.

Nemesia and the other advisors lead us down this road, several Thayarians carting our trunks on wheeled dollies or levitating them with practiced ease while staring at us with wary looks. We stop in front of a tavern named The Emerald Shell, covered in moss with horses tethered outside. The moss seems to shift towards Nemesia, as if she’s the sun and it must turn toward her light. I find myself shrinking back from her imposing presence while she tracks every step with her fastidious gaze.

Nemesia finally introduces the male next to her. “This is Admon. In my absence, he’ll serve as the Acting Chair of the Council of Advisors. He’s your primary contact during your short time in Thayaria.” Silene narrows her eyes at the gruff advisor, clear dislike written across her features.

“It’s excellent to meet you, Admon,” I say with a respectful nod of my head and a vibrant smile in an attempt to break the tension building. He returns the gesture while Nemesia bares her teeth, every inch the warrior whispered about. She looks like she wants to devour us.

“We have horses waiting to begin your journey to Arberly. Since it’s still early morning, we’ll sleep one night on the road, and should be to the capital by tomorrow evening,” Admon informs us.

“We won’t be aerstepped by Her Majesty or another air channeler?” Silene asks.

Admon smiles apologetically, the perfect picture of a courtier, while Nemesia sneers. Silene rolls her eyes dramatically in the direction of the General, and I have to smother my laugh. Only Silene would have the balls to roll her eyes at Nemesia Nestern.

“I’m afraid not,” Admon soothes. “Our air channelers are all occupied elsewhere, many stationed at port towns like Echosa to make unloading ships easier. I assure you we will endeavor to make your journey as comfortable and swift as possible.” He doesn’t answer why the Queen is not available.

“Are you too delicate to travel by horse, Velmaran?” Nemesia gruffly asks Silene, eyes stormy with hatred. Silene stares the tall female down, not afraid of her bluster. Neither breaks their gaze, so I step in.

“We’ll be glad of the opportunity to see more of this beautiful kingdom,” I offer with all the princely charm I can muster. Nemesia turns her attention my way, while Silene keeps her eyes glued on the General, like she can’t look away. But for what reason, I’m not sure.

“You would do well to attempt to see very little,” Nemesia hisses, the threat clear, before turning on her heel and stalking away from us.