A Court of Truths and Revival

Siblings

SEREN

After two weeks with the Band of Exiles, Seren had finally stopped toeing around the estate as if she didn't belong. By no means was she one of them, but no one had come to take her home and her identity remained unknown.

Her first week, she overate until she was sick each day, but her stomach had finally settled as her body began to replenish itself. A hint of shine returned to her too-thin hair and her ribs stuck out in a slightly less horrific manner. It would take months of consistent eating and activity to get her anywhere near how she used to look, but it was a start.

Sitting in the large tub in the bathroom connected to her room had quickly become her favorite pastime. She couldn't get clean enough. Hours and hours would pass with the hot water cooling and then suddenly reheating, likely Lucien's doing, but she would have remained amongst the scented bubbles for eternity no matter the temperature. Bathing was something she'd taken for granted, but after not having the privilege for so long, she'd never go a day without soaking again.

To keep the others from noticing who she was starting to resemble, Seren sat in front of a mirror for hours as she tried to get ahold of her magic. Once, she'd been formidable enough to frighten her father with its depths but it took a full day to manage to darken her eye color so they'd remain dull like chunks of coal. She refrained from laying in the sun at all hours of the day to keep her skin pale, but a hint of deep color was starting to show across her cheeks anyway.

Even now, she wore a borrowed long sleeve tunic while outside to ensure no parts of the two scars marring her back were seen. Being from the Night Court was one thing, but an Illyrian girl with no wings would bring up a conversation she wasn't ready to have.

Seren watched Lucien and Jurian spar with long swords as she sat in the shade beneath a tree she was certain had been outlawed after the first war with Hybern. Its bark was lethal to faeries, making her wonder who'd inhabited this land before the Band of Exiles. She'd received varying answers when she asked with Lucien muttering something about a Fae-hating, human prick underneath his breath and Jurian claiming it was a gift for his continued devotion to the mortals. If she wanted the truth, it was best to go directly to Vassa, who was a no-bullshit type, but her time in her mortal form was limited.

Seren cut a glance at the massive bird perched in a nearby tree. It was the only one she could be near since her flaming wings were a fire risk. Lucien had supposedly done something to the one tree to keep it from being consumed by her flames. There were several half-burnt and dead trees scattered nearby.

Jurian followed her gaze and smirked at the woman sharing his bed, but Lucien took advantage of the distraction and landed a blow with the blunt end of his sword to Jurian's middle. Vassa squawked loudly, the sound as close to laughter as she could manage.

To Seren's amusement, Jurian doubled over as he coughed and held up a hand in defeat. He was stronger than any mortal ought to be, but he wasn't quite Fae. Whatever the Cauldron had done made him something other, but it remained to be seen if he'd age the same.

Lucien turned to Seren and walked closer. "Were you trained?"

"She's likely to tip from a strong gust of wind," Jurian snidely remarked. "Doubt she can even lift a sword."

Why use a sword when your magic is a more efficient weapon? Seren caught the flinch from the recollection of her father's words from so long ago.

"I know the basics," Seren replied as she stood. "But I'm more partial to daggers."

She refused to admit that Jurian was likely right about her inability to wield a sword at the moment.