Prologue: The Babe in the Woods

Lavinia’s toes scraped the ground with every slow stride she took. The skin around her tired lavender eyes glowed bright red against her porcelain complexion, looking puffy and lumpy and decidedly out of place on her otherwise flawless visage. She was so certain it would work this time. It should have worked. She’d completed every rite to the letter, followed every detail and done exactly what the Old Texts decreed: she’d fasted at the appropriate times, sacrificed to the appropriate Goddesses – twice – and endured the brutal mating ritual until she thought her body would break. And yet, despite all that hard work, agony, hope, and suffering… here she was in the exact same circumstance as before.

Her friends and family had tried to comfort her, such as they could. “The Goddesses don’t bless everyone,” they’d said. “There’s always next season to try again. You’re not too old yet.” Lavinia gripped handfuls of her dirt-streaked royal blue night dress. Noise and idle chatter; that’s all it was. What did they know of her pain? She’d witnessed their joy and the proud faces of their life mates on the days they were blessed. The fury and the envy of watching those tiny, wriggling bundles being lain in their arms for the first time made her want to choke on her own tongue. On the outside, however, she forced a smile, ignoring the aching of her arms and the bitter emptiness gnawing at her insides. Ignoring the scathing looks and barbed comments her life mate gave her for her inadequacy.

She finally stopped walking when she reached the top of the hill beyond the great Floating City of Elysium, as the Forest of Enq prevented her from going any further. As if in a dream, she shuffled a bit further along the ridge until her toes touched the edge of the cliff. Her empty eyes traveled down the sheer wall of rock to its base, where the Glittering Sea butted up against the mainland. Her long, raven hair swirled around her face in the briny wind, as the roar of the waves pounded the bottom of the cliff below. The white billows champed and stamped like wild horses, trying to climb up the rock wall to greet her; tempting her to join them. Beneath their deceivingly soft, frothy heads lurked jagged fangs of rock, the peaks of which were only ever visible for a few seconds at a time. Lavinia leaned over a little more, wondering how swiftly her death would come if she chose to fall into that stony maw.

That’s when she heard it.

For a moment she thought she might have gone mad, imagining the beautiful little sound out of desperation. Her long, pointed ears twitched and turned toward the noise automatically and her breath caught, tearing her gaze away from the waves. There was no denying the sound was real. So real that her heart leapt behind her ribs. A baby was crying nearby.

Fueled by either insanity or natural instinct or both, Lavinia took off sprinting toward the sound… into the Heart of Enq. At the moment, she didn’t care about the evil she knew lurked within it. Nor did she care about the icy rocks and jagged roots that cut her delicate feet as she tore through the tangled underbrush. She charged on blindly through the dark as an Elfkin possessed, using only her ears to guide her. The cries grew louder and sharper as she ran, until she could no longer tell where they were coming from. She stumbled to a stop breathless and weeping, thinking that this was just some cruel trick conjured by the spirits of the Forest, until the sharp, pungent odor of ammonia reached her nose. Her experience with childcare was seasoned enough for her to recognize the stench of a soiled diaper, which she followed to a clump of overgrown glowing mushrooms. With trembling hands, she slowly pushed the large red and purple mottled caps aside and peered between them.

A beautiful, ruddy little face screamed up at her from the folds of a dirty yellow blanket. She smiled and sobbed with joy, carefully drawing the little bundle into her arms. “Hello, there,” she sniffled. “You’re perfect. What are you doing here all by yourself?” The babe snuggled against her thin chest with a soft whimper, his cries already quieting to gurgling hiccups. For a child so small, Lavinia was surprised at how heavy the infant was; easily twice that of an Elfkin of the same age. Pushing back the blanket revealed his ears were pointed like an Elfkin’s though. That, along with the sandy blond fuzz on his scalp, made her assume he might’ve been one of the Lower Born. That didn’t explain what he was doing in the Heart of Enq though, nor the strange golden yellow cloth he was swaddled in. Strangest of all, however, was the brilliant iridescent stone the size of a peach pit hanging around his neck.

Lavinia decided she didn’t care a whit from whence the infant had come. From that moment on, he was hers, no questions asked. For all she knew, the babe had been plucked from the heavens and lain here in the Forest by the Goddesses themselves, just for her. She kissed his little ruddy cheek with unbridled joy and tore a wide strip from the bottom of her nightgown to use as an extra blanket. The garment was ruined anyway, so it didn’t matter. With a smile on her face, she cradled his head against her collarbone and started picking her way back to the Forest’s exit, imagining the look of utter joy and pride on her life mate’s face already.

***

“In the time before The Light, Darkness ruled over the World. That was until the Dwarves found it buried deep in the bowels of the Earth, caught between great stones and glittering desperately to be released. And so, they did. Legend speaks of immense ladders constructed by both Dwarves and Elfkin, to hammer The Light back into the sky where it belonged. The great Haldrin Gilded-Ears himself forged the ladders with his own hands, then used the pieces afterwards to build the foundation of our own floating city. The Dwarves needed the Elfkin’s ingenuity, you see, because they’re quite a clumsy, ignorant race… and greedy.

“All of The Light was returned to the sky except one. The Brightest Light was kept hidden by the Dwarf King in secret; too precious and beautiful, he thought, to ever leave his side. Secrets are never secret for long, however. One night, the Brightest Light was stolen from the Dwarf King’s coffers, and it was never found again. The foolish old King was so heartbroken over the loss that he died not long after, leaving his people scattered and leaderless.

“With time, Darkness was chased away by The Light… but, without the Brightest Light, Darkness can never truly be destroyed. No, it was merely pushed back to the furthest corners of the World and slunk down to haunt the deepest crevices that The Light cannot touch. That was how the Forest of Enq was born. It is by far Darkness’s favorite place to lurk: a cold, miserable place filled with impassible dangers, dark wizards, and of course the Nighthunds – great bloodthirsty beasts made of living shadow. Some say that Darkness itself inhabits Enq in the guise of a man, stalking those foolish enough to reach the heart of the forest... and still seeking the Brightest Light to destroy it forever.”

When the candle by his bed was blown out suddenly, Aidan let loose a frightened squeak. He dove under his blankets, shaking and whimpering, while Kyden’s mirthful chortles rippled above him. The old Elfkin man’s laughter was cut short however by a grunt and the sound of flesh impacting flesh.

“Rotten old bag of bones,” Lavinia muttered harshly. “Are you trying to give him nightmares?!” The blankets were slowly rolled back, revealing her smiling face and warm eyes glittering like amethysts in the candlelight. “It’s alright, Little Crow,” she said, pulling the toddler into her arms. “Mother’s here. Don’t bend your ear to your father for a moment; those are just stories. Nothing more.”

Kyden scowled at the pair, still massaging his left upper arm. “You didn’t have to hit me, Lavinia. He begged to hear a story, so I told him one. If he gets scared, it’s his own fault!”

Lavinia’s eyes cut sharply to her life mate, paying little attention to the boy playing with the silver pendant hanging about her neck. “He’s only a baby, Kyden. If this is going to work, you’ll need to have patience with him.”

“This is never going to work,” the old Elfkin grumbled, swaying a little as he rose from his chair. “You’re a fool for believing it would for even a minute! They’ll never accept him, once they learn what he is and where he came from… and frankly, neither will I!”

Lavinia stiffened and held her child tighter to her bosom, glaring daggers into Kyden while he shuffled from the room with a bottle in hand. After he was gone, she pried her necklace out of Aidan’s chubby little mitt and kissed his cheek. “Darkness can never touch Elysium, Little Crow,” she promised, tucking the blankets carefully around him again. “As long as you’re here with me, you can sleep in peace. Close your eyes now, and dream of beautiful things.”

Aidan nodded, closing his eyes obediently. Before drifting off, he felt his favorite yellow blanket tucked under his arm. He gripped the slightly rough fabric tight in his little fist and brought it to his cheek, while his opposite thumb found its way to his mouth. As sleep finally took him, his head was filled with a familiar yet haunting melody only he could hear.