Page 2 of The Beautiful Blade

Something warm and wet brushed my face. I flinched, expecting more pain. When I opened my eyes, the gredane stood over me. Its huge, droopy ears twitched. Its tongue darted out to lick the side of my face.

Wincing, I tried to sit up. My ribs screamed in protest, but I managed to pat the beast’s nose. “You're welcome. But you have to pick up the pace now.”

The gredane huffed softly, a sound almost like a sigh, as it licked at my wounds. I let it offer me comfort, since nothing could heal my weak human frame. Where the gredane had lost its strength due to its age, I was ayoung creature born fragile, my bones as brittle as dry twigs. They broke easily with even the smallest strain, and though they healed quickly thanks to the magic that was in the very atmosphere of the planet, they always grew back weaker, thinner, more breakable than before.

I walked with a limp from an injury that had never properly mended when I was five solars old. My thin arms struggled to carry even a sack of grain. No amount of rest or care could make me strong. Not as if Uncle Maris or his sons, whose blows always felt like thunder striking stone, ever gave me space to rest.

By the time the mother sun had set and the daughter sun had led the thirteen moons on their nightly chase across the skies, we arrived at our destination. The fairy manor rose like a dream from the heart of the lush garden. No metal marred its beauty—only wood, glass, and vines woven into intricate patterns blending seamlessly with the surrounding flora.

Pale blue luminara blossoms unfurled their petals in the cool night air, each one glowing faintly like tiny stars scattered across the ground. Climbing vines of moonsilk wove themselves along the wooden beams of the manor, their silvery blooms spilling down like waterfalls of light. Nearby, beds of whispering lilies swayed gently, as if moved by an unseen breeze, theirpetals tinged with iridescent hues that shifted whenever they caught the light.

The air was heavy with the intoxicating perfume of etherrose, a flower with deep violet petals and faintly glowing veins of gold running through them. Beneath the canopy of flowering trees, clusters of dewshade orchids nestled in the shadows, their pale green blossoms dripping with nectar that glittered like tiny jewels.

Tree branches arched protectively over the manor, the rustle of their leaves a melodic whispering of secrets to the wind. Moonweaver oaks stood sentinel around the grounds, their bark smooth and white as marble. Lantern-like fruits hung from their branches, their soft golden glow casting dappled patterns on the pathways below.

The village as well as the manor were all long asleep. My uncle and cousins headed inside to the servants’ quarters and were greeted by a haggard-looking fae who looked down his long nose at them. Many faekind considered themselves the most evolved lifeforms on a planet with two suns made for beings who took sustenance from light and thrived in fertile grounds. They tolerated shifters, looked down their noses at orcs, and gave no attention whatsoever to humans.

Without being told to, I took the gredane to the stables. She moved slowly, her massive frame tremblingwith each step, her hooves clanging hollowly against the cobbled path. The shoes she wore were old and heavy, their crude edges biting into the soft flesh just above her hoofed paw despite the work I'd just done to them to get us here.

My fingers brushed the rough metal. An idea sparked in my mind—a better shoe, one that could take the burden off her legs. Something lighter, curved to fit perfectly, and lined with a soft material that wouldn’t leave bruises. The thought stayed with me as I found a second blanket, one not too marred by dirt and feces. Dragging it into the stall beside hers, I bedded down for the night, my head full of designs and possibilities.

I had to admit the stable was nicer than the last place I'd slept in. There was hay beneath my back instead of stone. My ribs still ached from the beating, and every movement sent a sharp reminder of my cousins' attentions. The hay scratched against my back as I tried to get comfortable, the earthy smell of it mingling with the sharp tang of manure and the faint sweetness of the flowers outside. The night was calm now, the kind of calm that made the world seem like it had forgotten you entirely.

I don’t know how long I lay there, staring at the wooden beams above me, before I heard it—the faint creak of the stable door opening again.

I bolted upright, ignoring the way my ribs screamedat the movement. I expected Olric or Dain. They sometimes liked a late night kick to my shins before they could settle down and go to sleep. But it was neither of my cousins.

A figure slipped inside, cloaked in shadow except for the faint glow of a lantern held high in one hand. The light threw her face into soft relief—a small, heart-shaped face, partially hidden by the hood of a dark cloak.

I froze, unsure whether to speak or stay silent. Her movements were light and deliberate, like she didn’t want to wake the sleeping world. At first, I thought she might be a servant from the manor. Maybe she’d come to check on the other animals. Maybe Uncle had sent her to make sure I hadn’t run off.

As she moved closer, the lantern light revealed something that made my breath catch. Her skin—it wasn’t pale or sun-bronzed like mine and the other human farmers or workers I’d seen on our journey into the kingdom of Evergrove. It wasn’t the fertile brown of my father’s people, either. No, her skin shimmered faintly in the light, soft and smooth as polished stone but unmistakably lavender. A pale, delicate purple like the petals of the whispering lilies in the manor gardens.

She set the lantern down on a barrel near the door and reached up to undo the clasp of her cloak. The fabric fell away, and I saw them—her wings.

They unfurled, shimmering with an iridescent glow that caught every sliver of moonlight sneaking through the wooden slats of the stable. They looked delicate, like spun glass. The way they moved—strong and purposeful—made me think they were anything but fragile.

She pulled a crystal tablet from her satchel, its glassy surface smooth and faintly glowing with inner light. With a flick of her fingers, the glow intensified, and images sprang to life, casting the stable in flickering shades of gold and blue. The sights and sounds of the Convergence Games filled the air—roaring crowds, clashing weapons, and the rhythmic pounding of drums that set the pace for the combatants.

Her eyes lit up as the fighters appeared on the crystal's surface. It was the Sun and Moon Gauntlet, where competitors faced a series of elemental and magical barriers before facing each other in hand-to-hand combat. The fairy stepped back, holding a—was that a steak knife?—in one hand, and began mimicking the movements of the fighters. She swung an imaginary sword, ducked low, and lunged forward with a sharp thrust.

I couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped me.

She froze, her head snapping toward me. Her wide eyes found mine. Neither of us moved.

The crystal flickered while the announcer's voicecontinued narrating the battle happening live in the capital of Solmane. The fairy girl aimed her dull blade at my gut.

In this anticipation, I felt no fear. For the first time in my short life, I felt excitement.

"Who are you?" she demanded.

CHAPTER TWO

CHARLOTTE

"Who are you?" I asked the man of my dreams.

"I'm yours," he told me with a cheeky smile before he disappeared under my skirts.

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