Shadowfire & The Nymph

Chapter Thirty One

Sage was getting increasingly fed up with being rescued by his sister.

He woke in a small, circular room.

Notes, drawings, dried plants and bottles in which orbs twinkled like starlight spread across the wall, the dark blue paint barely visible.

The ceiling was the same dark blue as the wall but held constellations and incantations in shimmering golden paint.

The large lightshade was made of blown glass; white and pink and yellow and orange blended artfully. It looked like the horizon on a summers evening. 

There was a small desk littered with paper and diffused oil lamps, the bed in which he laid and a rickety chair beside the door. No windows.

A handsome, young, or so he thought, male, was sat on a wooden ottoman beside his bed. He bit back the urge to wrinkle his nose, knowing it would hurt like Ufren.

He later learnt his name was Ash. Sharp yet introverted. Brooding and bored. Lonely and desperate. Those were his first impressions, anyway.

Despite the initial disliking he had taken to Ash (the broken nose speaks for itself), Sage had heard him out. Reluctantly. He had been assured Kali was safe with a friend called Eden when he demanded to see her.

Ash had told him of the Shadowfire heir. Her name being Lana Todoran. Her hair was said to be red as flame, her heart big and kind, yet damaged and neglected by most. She escaped the iron fenced city called Trinia, after her family had been slaughtered in front of her.

Sage swallowed hard. She had a sister. Jessie. He cringed thinking about how it would break him to have Kali and Ivy murdered before his eyes. He would have been lost in this world forever.

Sage had asked him how he knew so much about someone hundreds of leagues away, to which he had responded, "I have my means." Whatever that meant. An answer that was not an answer – that's what that was.

Sage scooted to the edge of the soft mattress topped with at least four layers of blankets and throws and pillows, all clean and fresh, as though newly washed. He braced his elbows on his knees and propped his hands beneath his chin.

"Why are you telling me all of this?"

Ash muttered something beneath his breath, as though this conversation had already been had with someone else and it didn't go well. The corners of his mouth tugged up, knowing who the conversation had been with. His eyes returned to Sage, cold and assessing. "I cannot tell you everything. It is too dangerous."

Sage smiled. "Then I will not help you."

Ash blinked. "You must."

"And why is that?"

"Because your sister will die otherwise."

A threat? Sage went rigid and Ash sighed, knowing he had struck his mark. "Everyone... will die otherwise. The human queen has an army of bewitched soldiers in her ranks, brainwashed by the witch slaves she keeps below Ember Palace. She plans to strike each fenced city, collecting each and every child of the Seven so she can siphon their power."

His stomach churned. How could this human be so destructive against the Fae? He could she alone have managed to turn witches into slaves?

"What can be done?" Sage said after a pause, his voice filling the small circular room.

Ash looked to the ceiling, his hands fidgeting together absentmindedly. He was nervous of Sage refusing his plan.

"We must capture the Shadowfire heir."