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Authors: Morgan Wylie
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right.” She held her hand out to warn him off. “Don’t ask. This is mine, it is my gift and my curse. Listen to what she said. I do not understand myself, or all that is happening, but you must not speak of this to anyone! Especially to Mother,” she pleaded. She turned to walk slowly back the way she came, having regained enough of her own strength to walk straight on her own. Soon her image grew so small that she blended into the thickness of the forest.
Daegan was left standing, rooted to the spot. He was speechless. A throbbing ache began in his upper left arm just as pain began to split his skull and he gripped his head. It began to subside almost as quickly as it came upon him. Taking a deep breath and running his hands through his dark mangled hair, he walked over to the mountain to try to feel the pulse of its magic once more, only to find it cold and lifeless to the touch.
CHAPTER SEVEN
As Daegan strode back up the hill toward the castle, he absent-mindedly rubbed his forehead where the pains had begun occurring as of late. He tried to think when they started, but could not remember it happening before he had reached his maturity as a Ferrishyn man. That must have something to do with it. He felt the troubled chaos growing within him.
Looking around at the beautiful land before him as he emerged from the forest near the mountain, he was never dulled to how captivating the scenery in Alandria was, especially this part of it. He had traveled extensively across borders, sometimes sent as a spy, sometimes as an ally, but always he went as himself and never as Maleina’s man—even though to many, that was what he was.
There was tragedy happening throughout Alandria, especially in the territory of Lumari and the city of Adettlyn. It had gone into ruin ever since King Ryek and his son had disappeared many years ago. He had never had the chance to meet the king—that he remembered—but from what he had heard whispered in the streets and the country, he had been a good man.
Alandria was broken into different territories with different rulers since its inception; however, its people were able to live wherever they had felt comfortable enough to call home. Some remained with others of their own kind, but some liked to be a part of the more diverse areas. Daegan enjoyed the diversity of the many races together even though, to others, he appeared to keep to himself. Maleina had taught him very young that others would not understand his position and would resent him for it. He was already a quiet lad, but she made sure he knew he was different. She reinforced his feelings that, as an orphan, people would not look favorably upon him. However, when he was out, he found most people were generous toward him and so he began quiet friendships with many of them.
As he walked, many faces flashed before his eyes, but when he looked up quickly out of the corner of his eye, the scenery shifted. He remained calm and kept walking not to give anything away. There was no preparing for what he was about to see.
Daegan looked back at the forest behind him, and gasped. The vibrant forest that he had just walked through was sickly and decaying. The leaves were brown and branches hung limply, while some of the trees didn’t even bother to try to remain upright. Confused, he turned slowly in a full circle. Up the hillside was more of what he had just seen... all desolate and sick, lifeless, dying and spreading to encase all of the lower areas of Feraánmar—everything but the top of Elnye where the castle and his home rested.
Then, as he turned back to the forest, it looked as it originally had: full of life, vibrant, green. Same with the lands of his territory that he could see... all normal, beautiful as ever. Daegan squinted, shaking his head, trying to get his vision right. What was he seeing? Was it all a glamour? It could not be. That would take an immense amount of magic and energy that no one he knew, not even Wren and
Daegan was left standing, rooted to the spot. He was speechless. A throbbing ache began in his upper left arm just as pain began to split his skull and he gripped his head. It began to subside almost as quickly as it came upon him. Taking a deep breath and running his hands through his dark mangled hair, he walked over to the mountain to try to feel the pulse of its magic once more, only to find it cold and lifeless to the touch.
CHAPTER SEVEN
As Daegan strode back up the hill toward the castle, he absent-mindedly rubbed his forehead where the pains had begun occurring as of late. He tried to think when they started, but could not remember it happening before he had reached his maturity as a Ferrishyn man. That must have something to do with it. He felt the troubled chaos growing within him.
Looking around at the beautiful land before him as he emerged from the forest near the mountain, he was never dulled to how captivating the scenery in Alandria was, especially this part of it. He had traveled extensively across borders, sometimes sent as a spy, sometimes as an ally, but always he went as himself and never as Maleina’s man—even though to many, that was what he was.
There was tragedy happening throughout Alandria, especially in the territory of Lumari and the city of Adettlyn. It had gone into ruin ever since King Ryek and his son had disappeared many years ago. He had never had the chance to meet the king—that he remembered—but from what he had heard whispered in the streets and the country, he had been a good man.
Alandria was broken into different territories with different rulers since its inception; however, its people were able to live wherever they had felt comfortable enough to call home. Some remained with others of their own kind, but some liked to be a part of the more diverse areas. Daegan enjoyed the diversity of the many races together even though, to others, he appeared to keep to himself. Maleina had taught him very young that others would not understand his position and would resent him for it. He was already a quiet lad, but she made sure he knew he was different. She reinforced his feelings that, as an orphan, people would not look favorably upon him. However, when he was out, he found most people were generous toward him and so he began quiet friendships with many of them.
As he walked, many faces flashed before his eyes, but when he looked up quickly out of the corner of his eye, the scenery shifted. He remained calm and kept walking not to give anything away. There was no preparing for what he was about to see.
Daegan looked back at the forest behind him, and gasped. The vibrant forest that he had just walked through was sickly and decaying. The leaves were brown and branches hung limply, while some of the trees didn’t even bother to try to remain upright. Confused, he turned slowly in a full circle. Up the hillside was more of what he had just seen... all desolate and sick, lifeless, dying and spreading to encase all of the lower areas of Feraánmar—everything but the top of Elnye where the castle and his home rested.
Then, as he turned back to the forest, it looked as it originally had: full of life, vibrant, green. Same with the lands of his territory that he could see... all normal, beautiful as ever. Daegan squinted, shaking his head, trying to get his vision right. What was he seeing? Was it all a glamour? It could not be. That would take an immense amount of magic and energy that no one he knew, not even Wren and
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