Echoes of Fae: Book One of the Divine (2 page)

              The Helacorn had proved themselves major competitors in the war. The winged creatures were well spoken, but full of superiority. These traits led them to many like-minded allies, and many enemies. The Helacorn and the Decacorn are kin. Decacorn being half man, half horse with ten small, sharp horns creating a dramatic line all from their forehead all the way down to their shoulders.

              Helacorn had only one horn set straight in the center of their foreheads like a pointed third eye. Helacorn had vast, beautiful wings and were mighty hunters. The Helacorn were not one of the more Ethereal creatures, as they each had little to no Ether of their own. The knowledge of their lack of Ether had led the Agouran resistance to underestimate the winged creatures in the War. What they had lacked in Ether, the Helacorn made up for in vigor, persuasion and intellect.

              The one thing that had ensured the victory of Agoura had been the very basic fact that the Helacorn tolerated no one. They would use the skills of others to their advantage and destroy it when it became obsolete to ensure that no one else could use it against them. They did not keep their allies happy.

              Once, Melody asked her father why the C’ghalie served as the leaders of Agoura. Andover had explained that the C’ghalie were both very powerful and very amicable. Though that was the case, it had not been a rule that C’ghalie be the governing race, it had been a coincidence that they had organized the treaty and the respect that his father held had become the reason that people had placed him in the seat of power.

              Common knowledge suggested that pureblood C’ghalie aged nearly immeasurably, which worked in their favor, since the transferal of power would be infrequent. Though the C’ghalie lived immeasurably long lives, they were mortal. Many deaths had occurred with the wrong knowledge of a C’ghalie’s mortality. In the legends, some of the eldest of the Fae died simply by deciding not to live any longer.

              C’ghalie resembled the Faerie - a nearly undiluted Fae race that had been notorious for its mischievous power and diverting beauty. Among the Faerie's relatives were the C'ghalie, Ninze and Serare. Melody often found frustration in the faces of her family, as they were all pureblood C’ghalie. Melody was short and thick when compared to the long, lithe bodies of her brothers and Genewen. Her father was tall but had grown stout. Most C’ghalie were tall and very thin, as opposed to the short, strong Metas. C’ghalie prided in their stealth and speed while Metas for their Ether.

              Melody suddenly bumped into Isaac. He smelled of stale water and he seemed to keep his nose in the air from fear of his own height; she thought jokingly. The blue-eyed Pramacretine hoped that Isaac could not read her mind. He sneered at her. Melody quickly wiped the expression from her face.

              “I do not like staring,” Isaac wheezed. Melody smiled apologetically before replying.

              “I am very sorry, Isaac. I am tactless inside and out. Staring is one of my many flaws. I am quite sure I smell like old linen and dishwater. Plus, I’m extremely clumsy and I look terrible in C’ghalie clothing,” Melody teased. At Isaac’s softening glare, Melody leaned forward confidentially. “I also have it under good authority that I talk far too much,” Melody said with a smirk. The Pramacretine watched as the corners of his mouth slowly upturned and a smile bloomed on his gray, wrinkly face, making him look like an old disheveled blanket with pinched red eyes and sharp yellow teeth.

              “All is forgiven, my lady,” Isaac said patting her shoulder. Melody smiled brightly. Isaac showed her into her father’s personal study. Andover turned and feigned a smile.

              “You are dismissed, Isaac, thank you,” Andover said. The Frogaern bowed and left the room. Andover looked at Melody and smiled genuinely. She stood before him for a while before he sobered and invited her to sit. “Now, I have brought you here to ask for your song in my banquet this night. I request you do not argue this time. We have many special guests that deserve a chance to hear your voice.” Andover stated his request as a command. Melody shuddered. She did not enjoy the attention.

              “Yes, Father,” Melody replied, obediently.

              Andover gave a respectful and appreciative nod before continuing, “Well, then. Now that your performance is settled, I think it is time you learned about your mother. It has taken me much thought and preparation to decide when would be the right time, as instructed. I think you are grown enough to learn your own past.” Melody noticed her father looked unusually tired. Unsure what she should say, Melody nodded to urge him to continue. Andover cleared his throat and sat down before he went on, “I must admit, my dear one, I have lived somewhat in fear of your power. I believe you have not fully discovered what you can do with your Ether. That said; we do not actually have a way to know how powerful you are. It has only happened once before.” The Pacretine's pause invited Melody to speak.

              “Father?” the Pramacretine asked. She felt unsettled and shy. Andover looked up and smiled. The lines in his face exposed his old age.

              A moment of hesitation revealed the Pacretine's difficulty in his continued confession, “Your mother was a Meta who I met at an Inn and dined with when I had spent time across the Divide.” Andover could not finish before Melody’s eyes went wide.

              “You were unfaithful with a woman you did not even know?” Melody gasped. The lines in Andover’s face deepened.

              “Melody, please do not interrupt,” Andover requested. Melody sank into a chair, deflated. “No, I do not believe I was unfaithful to Genewen. I met your mother twice at the Inn and we were amicable. The second time we crossed paths she invited me to dinner. We spoke well and agreed on many things. I must admit, I found myself very fascinated by meeting a Meta in person. I had not before.

              “Her name was Pandora. We had enjoyed too much cider and found ourselves speaking more freely than we had planned, so the memory of our dinner is hazy. I remember when I walked her back to her room she embraced me. I could tell after a moment that it had been more than an average friendly gesture. She lingered too long but it did not seem romantic. She took something from me. I did not stop her and to this day, I have no idea why. I think I felt it necessary to give her whatever she needed. I was swimming in the drink, but I remember the unexpected and overwhelming amount of power pouring through me. I remember well the sensation; like a tide rushing in and pulling back out. It took something from me, as the ocean takes sand and debris, but it was nothing I could not spare. I left the next day on the long journey home across the Divide. It is truly a horrible journey by ship, I must say. I was as sick as a dog the whole time...” Andover trailed off, and then smiled at his own distraction.

              “You speak of her only in past tense,” Melody whispered, she felt her stomach bottom out as tears burned her eyes.

              “Yes, my love. I received word your mother was pregnant and would have her child shortly. I could not make it back in time to see her again before you were born. Twelve months passed before I returned, and only you remained. I had expected as much, based on what I knew of the Meta,” Andover said. Melody’s look hardened. Andover shook his head at her and continued. “Yes, it was prejudiced of me. I know this now. We all learn even when we are aged, Melody. I felt bad when I found out she had passed in childbirth.”

              “How?” Melody asked, breathless.

              Andover paused to consider his words,” I am not completely certain. Her brother attempted to explain it to me. He had custody of you when you were a newborn. He told me a child born of two Meta could be born of Ether alone. You were not a child of two Meta, so Pandora gave you her mortal being to bring you to life.” Andover’s face revealed something Melody had often questioned: his affection. The Pacretine continued gently, “That is the story I know. Pandora gave you to me so I could care for you and raise you. She left me things to give you at a certain age. They are around this old palace somewhere. I will give them to you in the order Pandora instructed.” Andover stood silently watching his daughter react to what she had just learned. The Pramacretine stared at her palms.

              “So,” Melody choked out, her voice thick with impending tears.

              “I
am
The Divine?”

Songbird

              “You will truly need to dazzle the Fae Lord, Nicolai. He has not been to visit since you were very little. Nicolai is a sharp fellow and his tongue is proving to be quite the lash against our family,” Genewen was chattering away at Melody, who was eating as quickly and neatly as she knew how.  “Melody, are you even listening to me?” Genewen asked impatiently. Melody was struggling with what she had learned, and she really did not want to think about the strange Fae man who came around every year just to hear her sing. Finally, Melody nodded at Genewen.

              “Thazzle Nicolai, thing a thwong, make Pacrethine ‘appy,” Melody answered with her mouth dangerously full. Genewen averted her eyes from the sight. She was a very strict vegetarian and Melody was vigorously chewing lamb. Melody swallowed, embarrassed. “I think I am owed a favor.”

              “Anything,” Genewen said happily.

              “I want to manage the crisis in Derms, between the Fae and the citizens of the city,” the Pramacretine replied quickly. Genewen looked at Melody squarely, her gaze betraying her surprise. She quickly smoothed her expression. The crisis Melody spoke of was a trade war between families. Despite many intermediary actions, the two continued to squabble.

              “Absolutely,” Genewen started. Melody jumped up exuberantly. Genewen pulled her back to the chair. “I need to ask of you two things, however, if you want this. I fully support your desire to take on more responsibility. After all, your influence is somewhat fanatic in this area. Nevertheless, your father will be hesitant at best and you must agree to an escort. The second is to ask your father yourself,” Genewen requested. Melody shrugged and nodded, shoving food into her mouth once more.

              “You eat like a young man,” Alastaf teased from behind them. Genewen tried to keep her face straight, but Melody guffawed, an unfortunate sight with her mouth stuffed with food. Alastaf rolled his silvery eyes and marched out of the dining hall.

              “You really do,” Genewen admitted, looking worried. Melody shrugged. “Do try not to do that tonight; this is a very important event for your father.” Several moments passed before the Pramacretine spoke.

              “I will not make a fool of Father, or our family,” Melody replied coolly. “It is not as though one would have to do anything more than sit by and watch,” Melody muttered.

              Genewen stared at Melody, shocked, “I am not sure where all of this hostility is coming from, Melody. You are such a sweet and lovely young woman. We should not be hearing words like those.”

              Melody sighed unhappily and replied, “Father told me what I am. It seems I am some foretold savior of Fae. I think that is why I remain here. I do not actually belong. Worse, I am no longer confident about who I am. Once I was a girl who could be anything and now I have some predestined identity in which I do not get to choose or change.”

              “I see,” Genewen said. She thought for a time before she spoke again. “You must remember, Melody, a destiny does not define you. You are upon a path. Who you are when you walk along will only ever be determined by you, darling. I could not presume to know what your destiny will be. I do not know whether it is this prophecy or something else. Whether or not you choose where your feet walk is yet to be actually determined. However, this does not make a single difference to who you are, other than to make you worry excessively.” Genewen was careful and reassuring. Melody nodded slowly. She flashed a brilliant smile at Genewen.

              “You give incredible speeches, Macretine. You should be the one to orate instead of Father. He is so ungainly and silly,” Melody joked.

              “So I have been told,” Genewen said demurely. There was laughter in her brown eyes.

              “Do I really have to sing to them, though?” Melody asked, suddenly, “It is as if I am a show pony or a hog at a bazaar. Besides, it is my birthday. Should not someone be performing for me?”

              “It should not shame you,” Genewen replied after a short laugh, “What your songs do for people, in my estimation, is akin to the manner in which a general will prepare his troops for battle. You make them brave and open. You give them hope. Your songs are not meek or womanly, they are vast and encompassing. You will sing,” Genewen finished sternly, but with more confidence than authority. “Besides,” Genewen began softer. “I have a few guests who you will want to sing to,” Genewen said.

              “Nicolai?” Melody asked. Genewen shook her head.

              “No, it is a surprise!” Genewen replied happily.

              “Ugh,” Melody sighed. She hated surprises.