More people arrived as the sun set. Ellis listened to Grey and a happier than he had ever seen him Peter talking about the natural history of unicorns.

A little while after sunset, River emerged from the shadows beyond the gate followed by a tall, muscular man who resembled him in some ways, but with long, flowing black hair.

Grey told them that was Dark Lord Michael Blackwood, River’s oldest brother.

The phrase dark Lord sent to chill through them. Any time they had ever seen that word in fiction, it meant trouble.

The two siblings parted ways just within the gate.

Michael walked over to Mother Soteria and greeted her with a gracious bow.

River walked straight over to Ellis. “Did you have a good day?” He asked, as if no one else stood around the table.

“I did. Grey took me to see the knuckers.” Ellis said, “Moriah studied magic, and Peter played with unicorns.”

River glanced at the ground and back up as if they were disappointed, then turned to Moriah. “I am surprised you chose to practice their magic before learning about the other kinds.”

“I didn’t.” Moriah said anxiously, “Sister Luna explained several kinds of magic to me. I haven’t chosen anything yet.”

River grinned. “Good. If there’s time, I will have to introduce you to my sister, she’s always complaining that no one shares her enthusiasm for the arts.”

“That would be wonderful.”

“Be careful with that.” Grey said. “Dark Lady Severina Blackwood likes her toys, but she tires of them quickly.”

“Are you calling Moriah a toy?” River asked.

“I thought we were all toys to your kind.”

Smoke seeped from the corners of River’s mouth. “Many like their games, but I assure you, she won’t lose a single drop of blood at the manor.”

“But what of her soul?” Grey hastily poured wassail into a glass and offered it to River.

River accepted and took a sip while keeping their eyes locked on Grey. “The sisters have outdone themselves.”

"Well, you know how much the fairies like to throw a party." Grey’s voice chilled the air.

Ellis missed something, but didn’t understand enough about this strange world to know what it was. “Grey said that there are dragons in the region.” They said to break the silence.

“Did he?” River asked, a pained expression on their face. “And what did he tell you about us?”

Ellis and Peter dropped their drinks.

“I see he didn’t tell you I was one.” River waved his hand, and the spilled wassail evaporated into a cloud.

“It wasn’t for me to say.” Grey said.

River smirked in a way that told Ellis there was a history between them that they needed to learn if they wanted to keep the peace.

“I hope you enjoyed your first day in Aernadael.” River said with a bow and walked away.

Ellis stepped closer to Grey to ask him what all that was about, but before they could, Mother Soteria took to the bandstand in her full habit. Dark black makeup surrounded her eyes and dripped down her cheeks in three wavy lines on each side.

She clapped her hands together, and thunder cracked.

All the conversations ended. Everyone turned to face her.

“Welcome to all our kith and kin who found the time to join us this evening.” Mother Soteria said. Her voice filled the space like she stood next to them. “It isn’t every day that we have the potential of welcoming some lost souls home, but tonight we have such an honor.” She gestured toward their table and a light shone around them with no apparent source. “Behold Peter, Moriah, and Ellis, three lost souls who found their way to the ara, and now have the opportunity to learn our ways if they so chose. Introduce yourself to them, but do that a bit later. Let’s open this fete right.”

The crowd cheered.

Mother raised her arms over her head, and a thick fog rose around her. Throwing her arms out to either side, the fog broke to reveal a drum kit, keyboard, two guitars, and a bass.

Voices sang out from behind the stage, chanting in a strange language. Five sisters marched out in procession from the fog, their voices melding into a heavenly chorus. One by one, they picked up an instrument.

When the chant ended, colored lights flared to life, and they started to play an oddly familiar song that Ellis was sure they’d never heard before. It was a rock or metal song from the ‘60s or ‘70s.

Mother Soteria sang with a powerful voice that reminded them of Grace Slick at the height of Jefferson Airplane.

Ellis, Peter, and Moriah turned from one to another, dumfounded by the sights and sounds before them.

The sisters performed with all the polish and prowess of rock stars. Maybe this was how nuns behaved in this world.

After the shock wore off, Ellis, Peter, and Moriah started dancing.

Grey offered a hand to Ellis, and they set off to the dance floor.

Ellis never had a hot guy ask them to dance before. They read nothing into it. Life was so different here. The last thing they wanted to do was to make more out of Grey’s gesture than he intended.

They all stopped and applauded at the end of the first song. Some whistled, others howled in approval.

As the next song started, River pressed through the crowd to them and asked Ellis for a dance.

Without a thought, Ellis joined River. They couldn’t help but repeat in their head, I am dancing with a dragon over and again.

After the applause ended after the second song, Peter and Moriah came over and they all danced together.

Grey danced on one side of Ellis, River on the other.

The music fill the air and cushioned their footfalls on the hard dance floor. Only the impacts that coincided with the beat of the song rang out.

Ellis danced between a wolf and a lion. They didn't believe that either would intentionally hurt them, but at the same time, their soul cried out for them to run.

Nothing in their life could ever have prepared them for something like this. So a dragon and someone who, at the very least, was a wizard wanted to dance with them, and there was no love lost between them. What should they do?

Like the brave and heroic person they felt they were in their heart, Ellis did everything they could to ignore the rivalry around them.

Fate, it seemed, didn't find that solution quite entertaining enough.

Mother Soteria began singing a slow song, not just any slow song, but a love song.

Ellis turned away from the stage as fast as they could, and wended through the crowd at between a run and a gallop.

They refilled their glass with wassail and drank deeply from the cup.

Their head swam by the time they reached the bottom of the cup. The beverage was alcoholic. All the exotic spices and fruits that steeped in it masked any sign of the intoxicant.

They weren't drunk, but they were definitely tipsy.

Brilliant, how were they supposed to not make a fool out of themselves in front of these people if they allow themself to get drunk at the party.

They shook their head and repeated the word, “no,” repeatedly as if it were in fact magic and would erase the alcohol from the bloodstream. It didn't, but they're probably were some magical way to become instantly sober.

Ellis searched the crowd for any sign of sister Lydia, but couldn't find her anywhere. If they possess more courage, they could simply ask one of the other sisters for help.

It should've been blatantly obvious that this was the sort of party that would serve alcohol. There were no children here. In fact, Ellis and their friends looked like they might be some of the youngest people in attendance.

What were they going to do?

Everything was so warm. Maybe it was too hot for their insecurities to stay up.

To their great relief, no one came over to talk to them until the song changed.

This one had a much quicker tempo, and an infectious groove that reached deep down within them and made them want to dance.

They forgot about their fears and concerns. Such things didn't belong on a dance floor.

The rhythm increased, and they've joined it, and its impetuous fit of motion. They allow their joy to move their arms and legs.

Nothing mattered, not a single little thing. It didn't matter what the headmaster wanted, they would be back.

They shook their head, that didn't make any sense. They graduated from school years ago. It didn't matter what anyone in charge thought. No one would take this life away from them, not now, not ever.

Ellis threw their glass at the high stone wall and reveled at the sight of it shattering. How dare they think they would fall for the same trick twice?

They shouted, "freedom!" And spiraled onto the dance floor.

Periodically, they reached out for a ghostly hand that never took theirs, but someone else would. They didn't care whose hand it was, so long as they weren't alone, when they were alone, that's when the darkness got them.

Their heart fluttered in their chest, and they saying all that was in the oohs and the ahh’s along with the crowd even though they didn’t know the songs themself.

It didn't matter, nothing mattered. Everything before this was a lie, a silly, deliberate, hateful lie.

Ellis laughed. They broke their chains. They were free. It didn't matter what anyone else said. They didn't need approval this time. When have they ever needed anyone's approval?

No one was going to take this life away from them. This life was theirs. They found it fair and square.

They danced under the moonlight, lost in the music finally amongst their own people.

Showers of light flicked from the wings of the knuckers as they danced through the air around and between Ellis and Grey. The ribbonlike trails of shimmering light wove from their wings. When two ribbons touched, light flared out like a miniaturized firework.

Ellis twirled on the spot like they hadn’t done since they were a child. Dizzy and lightheaded, they fell to the ground, laughing up at the blue sky. For the briefest moment, they could have sworn they saw the moon laughing with them. Not the man in the moon or even a face, but the moon itself laughed.

Grey ran over to Ellis and offered them a hand.

“It can be overwhelming the first time.” Grey said.

Ellis took his hand and pulled themself up to their feet. “They are wonderful. Do they feed off laughter?”

“Knuckers, like all dragons, feed off energy. So in a way, yes.”

“They are dragons?” Ellis eyes opened wide. Dragons existed. They'd heard the word earlier, but somehow it wasn't real. But seeing them with their own eyes they couldn't deny it.

“After a fashion.” Grey made a sort of nervous jig. “If you asked a dragon, they would tell you they were dragon like, but not dragons.”

“How many kinds of dragons are there?”

“Depends on who you ask.”

Ellis bit their lip, inhaled sharply, then asked, “So is that ghost Graycek related to you?”

“He is my great, great, great, uncle... something like that, and don’t let anyone else hear you call him a ghost. Especially not him. A ghost refuses to pass on. He is a Di Inferi, a god of the underworld.” Grey made a frustrated gesture. “He’s not really a god. Oh, how do I explain it? He swore to protect the community from the other side.”

“Like a patron saint?” Ellis asked.

“Something like that. Technically, he is a mane, one of the good dead, even though that is debatable for some.”

“Yeah, he has a weird sense of humor.”

“He does at that.”

"He said he wasn't given a choice about whether or not to come back."

Grey shuffled his feet for a moment. "The community was a lot smaller back then, and so there weren't that many to choose from. Perhaps from his point of view, he didn't."

Something large splashed in the lake.

Two large knuckers the size of horses, but with scales, claws, and dragonfly wings, flew into the air.

What did he mean they didn't have a lot to choose from? Does that mean Graycek had been sacrificed, or did they ask him shortly before he died?

Eventually, the site of the two adult knuckers pushed all the other thoughts out of their head.

“I wondered when their mom and dad would notice they left the nest.” Gray said. “Stand still until I introduce you. If you’re lucky, we might be able to go for a ride.”

Grey raised both his arms over his head and made a clicking sound with his tongue.

The large gold knucker came over first and rubbed his enormous head in Grey’s right hand. 

“This is the papa.” 

The white knucker followed and did the same with his left. 

“And this is the mama. Step closer slowly.” Gray said.

The knuckers made a deep rumbling sound like a cat purr, but it reverberated in Ellis’ chest like a deep bass. 

Ellis took a step forward. 

The gold knucker jerked his head from Grey’s hand and stared through Ellis.

“Keep coming.” Grey said. “He can feel your fear. So long as you don’t wish him harm, you’ll be fine.”

“I think I can manage that.” Ellis focused their mind on happy thoughts.

With every step, their heart fluttered. They reached up and stroked the knucker’s scaly cheek, smoother than silk and softer than plush.

The gold knucker nestled his face into Ellis’ palm, closed his eyes, and purred even harder.

Ellis’ whole body came alive with the sounds.

“Would you like to ride him?” Grey asked.

Ellis struggled not to fall over. “Could I?”

“Just ask, if it is all right, they will bend down for your to climb on. Just hold on tight if he agrees.”

Suppressing a squeal of excitement, Ellis took a deep, calming breath. “May I go for a ride?” Their voice cracked in the middle.

The gold knucker lowered itself.

Ellis swung on his back as if it were the most natural thing, like they had done it all their life. They wrapped their arms around his neck, and the knucker galloped forward before leaping up into the sky.

Nothing in their life could have prepared them for this moment. Like something from one of their childhood dreams, they rode on dragon back through the sky. The wind blowing around their face and through their hair, but they felt cradled and safe.

Maybe it was some unseen magic, but they sensed a cloud of pure joy around them, holding them firmly on the knucker’s back. They doubted they could fall off even if they tried, but they weren't about to test that theory. They knew their luck and didn't want to fall to their death in the middle of such a magical moment.

Their imagination had failed them. All the times they watched She-Ra and imagined what it would be like to fly on the back of a winged unicorn, they never dreamed it would feel like this.

Ellis discarded all their notions of time. Ever since they arrived at those statues, they completely lost their ability to tell one moment from an hour or vice versa. If it weren’t for the fact they would have noticed the setting and rising of the sun, they would have sworn they flew around for days before the knucker returned them to the shore of the river.

Grey landed next to them and dismounted from the white knucker. He hurried over to help Ellis off theirs.

“I hope that wasn’t too much for your first time out.” Grey said with a roguish grin.

“It was perfect.” 

Their eyes met. Ellis blushed and looked away quickly.

After what felt like an eternal silence, Grey asked, “Are you ready to go back to the sisters?”

Ellis wanted to say, “If we have to.” But said, “I should see how my friends are doing.”

Risking a glance at Grey’s chiseled face, Ellis smiled.

“If you like, we can come back tomorrow, or I can show you something else.”

So many thoughts rushed through Ellis’ mind. Their cheeks glow hot, ruby red. “I would love... like that.”

Why did they say love? Hopefully, they didn't draw too much attention to it.

Grey led them back up to the convent, which, under the bright light of day, resembled a medieval citadel from a movie. 

On the way back, Grey told him how he found the first knucker nest when he was a boy, and how he encouraged them and helped them flourish.

His enthusiasm was contagious. Not that Ellis needed any help to get excited about dragons. 

They grew up drawing them. Every time one appeared on He-man and the Masters of the Universe or any other show they watched, the rest of the world vanished and they took in every detail. Their parents encouraged it. They loved dragons and unicorns, and dragons were considered the more manly of the two, so they hoped it would lead them to more manly interests. It didn’t.

Luminous streamers flowed light rainbow rivers of light over the courtyard. They set tables and chairs up in front of a bandstand and a dance floor.

The sisters weren’t the only ones fluttering around, setting things up. More locals had come up to join in what the banner called a homecoming.

Tables filled with beautiful, red and white knotwork breads, and numerous dipping sauces lined one side of the courtyard. The other side had punch bowls, bottles, and kegs of every description set up with what resembled amethyst glasses to drink from.

Moriah ran up to Ellis and grabbed both their hands. “I got to see a real grimoire today and learned the proper names of dozens of kinds of magic.” She squeezed their hands and squeaked with excitement.

“I rode a dragon.” Ellis said as casually as they could manage.

Moriah’s eyes widened, then grinned at Ellis in a knowing way. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your new friend?”

Ellis’ cheeks burned again, and they introduced Moriah to Grey without looking at him.

They exchanged pleasantries.

“Are you staying for the festivities?” Moriah asked Grey keeping an eye on Ellis.

“Of course.” Grey sounding surprised by the question. “The sisters through the best fetes. I’ve never missed one unless I was sick or out of town.”

The idea of nuns throwing a party made little sense to Ellis, and they hoped it didn’t show. More than any other time in their life, they wanted not just to fit in here, but to be one of them, to have the natural ease they all had in life. What would such a carefree life be like? They worried they would soon wake up and discover this was all a dream.

As the sunset, it dawned on Ellis how long they’d ridden the knuckers. Their stomach growled, and grew only more insistent they eat as the sister grilled various spiced meats and vegetables for the, what did Grey call it, fete.

Grey took them over to a table and ladled something he called an autumn wassail into their cups.

Besides the apple and the cinnamon, Ellis didn’t know how to describe the taste other than to say happiness. It was like drinking the sensation of opening a surprise present and seeing something you always wanted under the paper and realizing how much the giver cared for you.

Peter joined them at the table. “Did you know they have unicorns?” He said, accepting a cup of wassail from Grey.

“American Unicorns, they are native to these lands, and not the smaller ones from Europe.” Grey said.

“There is more than one kind of unicorn?” Peter said, like a child seeing a toy store for the first time.

Grey nodded. “Remind me to take you to the stables sometime. I think you'll really enjoy seeing the menagerie that we have gathered together.”

Ellis smiled because they believed it was the right thing to do. They had never been to a party in their honor attended by so many people before, and they were afraid they would do the wrong thing.

Ellis sat quietly for a while after Nana Thea left, eating their breakfast. Nothing here made any sense, but maybe that was just the cost of having magic in the world.

“What would you like to do first?” Lydia said as she put down her book.

Ellis squirmed in their seat. “I don’t know what’s possible.”

The door opened. A handsome young man with the same silver shimmer to his eyes as Nana walked in. “Mother is looking for you, Lydia.” 

His blue eyes pierced right through Ellis’ soul.

Ellis glanced away, their cheeks burning from embarrassment. They hoped they hadn't been staring.

“How?” Lydia almost grunted the word. “She told me to help... whatever. Cyril Graycek, this is Ellis Nicks, one of the trespassers caught last night. Keep an eye on them while I go find out what Mother wants.”

Ellis did their best to pretend her words didn’t embarrass them and forced a smile.

Cyril Graycek nodded with a grin. His short blond hair bounced with the motion. He trained his crystal blue eyes on Ellis and said, “So, are you ready for a tour?”

Ellis wilted a little as Lydia stormed out of the room. “Sure.”

“Good, and call me Grey, not Cyril or Cy. Unless you have something specific in mind, I could take you down to the lake to feed the knuckers.”

Why did everyone insist on saying things Ellis didn’t understand, like the words should make sense?

Ellis forced another smile, and said, “That sounds fun.”

“It sure beats carrying boxes around and setting up fairy lights.” Grey chuckled.

Ellis faked a laugh. They’d known people like Grey, and they were too pretty to bare anything less from those around them.

"If you're not interested, I'm sure I could think of something better." The graciousness with which Grey spoke took Ellis off guard.

"I'm sure whatever you want to do will be fine. Honestly, I don't know enough about what there is around here to even know what it is that I might want to see."

Grey chuckled. "I've often wondered what that would be like, to be a stranger in a new place. I've lived here all my life." He motioned towards the door. Was that a wink?

There is no way the stranger just winked at them.

“Follow me.” Grey said, and led them out of the tower.

Ellis stood up, and after reminding their legs how to walk, took a few tentative steps forward.

It wasn't like them to get flustered like this, but when was the last time that a handsome man offered to take them out and show them the sites?

Under the sunlight, his skin was far paler than it appeared in the room. His eyes sparkled, lending him a truly unearthly appearance.

They walked together through the courtyard. Grey waved at a couple of people and called out their names. They called back with a wave.

“To be honest,” He said after they passed far enough beyond the gate to not be easily overheard, “I’m glad you gave me an excuse to get away. I’m not a big fan of the attention they insist on paying me.”

Ellis couldn’t understand what that was like. People rarely paid them any attention if they didn’t want something or just to make fun of him.

“So, you are from the great beyond.” Grey said. “What’s it like out there?”

“The sisters paint a pretty accurate image.”

Grey frowned. “Oh. I hoped the stories were just that.”

“You’ve never left whatever this is?” Ellis asked.

“Nah. I mean, looking like I do, it would attract too much attention, and I don’t care what they say, I know there are still hunters out there.”

"Hunters?" Ellis asked.

“It hasn't been all that long, since you're kind, hunted mine down.” Grey kicked the ground after he said that. “Sorry about that. I hate all of this talk of different kinds of people. We are all born different, but that shouldn't separate us. It's just hard, because I grew up hearing the stories about the hunters.”

“I didn't think you meant anything bad by it.” Ellis said. “I can only imagine how some of the people I grew up with would react if they found out there was actual magic in the world.”

“Fear. At least that is how I have always had it explain to me. I understand why some people would be afraid of us, especially people like me, but we're not mad beasts looking to cause trouble.”

Ellis laughed. “Half the people I know make it their object in life to go about causing trouble.”

Was it inappropriate or rude to ask what it was about Grey and his people that scared others? As tired as they were being asked about their gender, they didn't want to ruin this outing by asking the wrong question.

“So, what would you like to know about us?” Grey asked as if he had read Ellis’ mind.

“I don't think you realize what a hard question that is.” Ellis allowed some of their frustration to show through. “Everything is different here, but somehow the same. How am I supposed to know what to ask about, but I don't even know what all there is to ask about?”

“Huh. I hadn't even considered that. How about if I just tell you what I think are the most important things for you to know.”

"Thank you."

“You are in Blackwood County, which is governed by the dark lords and ladies of the house of Blackwood. Uh, they're not kings or queens or anything like that. Wow, I've lived here my entire life and I don't even know how to describe it.” Grey laughed.

“You see what I'm talking about?”

“How about this, anytime you're curious or confused about something, don't be afraid to ask me about it? I have a thick skin, and it's really hard to offend me.”

Ellis raised an eyebrow. “Do you really have a thick skin?”

“Not particularly, I mean, if you cut me, I bleed, but that also might cause me to cut you back.”

Something in Grey's expression told Ellis that he was only half joking when he said that. They wanted to ask if he had ever killed anyone, but they didn't. One, because it felt like an overly personal question. Two, because they didn't really want to know the answer to it.

“Ok, so let's start with something simple. Do you have a job?” Ellis thought that was a simple way to manage introductions.

“I am the gamekeeper for the village, and for all the Trivian lands.”

“So, you're like a farmer or a cowboy?”

Grey blinked a couple times, then chuckled to himself. “I suppose, after a fashion, I make sure the wyverns don't cause too much trouble, and keep an eye on all the magical beasts that roam through the wild.”

Ellis stopped walking for a moment, and just stared at Grey. “You must be really brave to face down such legendary creatures.”

Grey shook his head. “Not really. Most creatures will only harm you if they perceive you as a threat.”

Ellis smirked at Grey. They've heard that kind of talk before. My dog’s not dangerous, he loves everybody. Three stitches later, Ellis learned their lesson.

What would it be like to be surrounded by all the creatures of myth and legend every day? For someone who grew up amongst them, it would probably be boring, no different from seeing a dog or cat. Funny, the little tricks the mind played.

Grey walked with a confident swagger Ellis had rarely seen outside of a movie. If they lived here, would they adopt a similar gate? Somehow, they doubted it.

The scent of autumn leaves merged with a wet fishiness.

Up ahead, a large lake opened up from the end of the trail. “Don’t come out here alone until you know you are ready.” Grey said. “There are a lot of hungry things hiding in those trees.”

“That you will protect me from?”

“Yep.” Grey stopped. "But I would rather not have to." 

The genuineness of his smile warmed Ellis's heart like the first rays of sunlight after a cold, dark night. Their heart fluttered.

“Wait here for a minute.” Grey said.

Grey walked down to the edge of the lake and kneeled down. He fluttered his hands on the surface. A deep moaning sound rippled from the center of the lake.

“Try not to make a sound.” Grey said softly and fluttered his hands on the surface again.

A spray of water erupted a few feet away from him, and seven large dragonflies spiraled into the air.

On closer inspection, they weren’t dragonflies, though they shared a similar silhouette. Each one had different colored fishlike scales in red, blue, green, gold, purple, fiery orange, silvery white. Each one was the size of a large house cat.

“These are knuckers.” He said softly, “Where is your mother today?” Grey asked the little dragons. “I suppose she is off feeding.” He stood up and stretched his arms out to the side. “Stand like I am.”

The knuckers swooped around his arms in elongated figure eights as he slowly turned around.

Ellis copied Grey’s pose and watched everything carefully. “Are they dangerous?”

“Like I said, only if you wish them harm. These are just babies, so they would probably just run away. I doubt there's anything they could do to hurt us.”

Grey turned slowly and faced Ellis. He made a trilling sound deep in his throat and the knuckers flew from his arms to Ellis and back in complicated patterns, each one taking a different path.

Their wings hummed from the speed and sent little jets of cool air around Ellis’ arms and neck that tickled.

They couldn’t stop themselves and laughed.

Showers of glitter fell from their wings as the little ones flew faster and faster in divergent figure eights.

The little creatures took more interest in them, and the sensation built with every pass. The harder they laughed, the more excited the little ones became.

If this was a dream, Ellis hoped they would never wake up, but nothing this wonderful ever happened to them in a dream.

Eight years ago, Ellis sat cross-legged on their bed in their parent’s old apartment. They pulled their Ewoks’ sheets tightly around them, holding their Silverhawks Steelheart and Steelwill in their hand. Tears welled up in their eyes and they set them on the nightstand.

They crawled onto their knees in the center of their bed and wrapped their soft Masters of the Universe comforter around themself. Leaning on the windowsill, they wept softly. Pain tore their heart shooting veins of chilling pain through their chest. Anguish constricted their breath. Their soul crisped in the cold flames. They held themself up because if they collapsed into their bed they would shatter like an ancient vase. 

They rubbed their tears into their cheeks. Their breath became ragged, as sharp and broken as the shards of their heart worming through them. They raised themself up on their knees and pressed their forehead to the cool glass of the window. 

The lonely moon ruled the sky over the playground in the courtyard between the apartment buildings. On the bottom floor of the opposing building, light streamed through the blinds from one window stretching across the ground between the swings and the slide. Shadows played dark against the interior illumination. They recognized the outlines of Penny Scarr and Katey Emberson laughing.

Ellis met them shortly after moving to Frederick, Maryland, and they became fast friends. They always sat together at lunch as they trudged through the fifth grade together. 

Less than an hour ago, Ellis was in there with them, laughing and singing along to the New Kids on the Block. Then Penny’s mother told them it was time for them to go. Boys weren’t allowed to sleep over and they had to go home.

The words confused them. Of course, coed sleepovers were not allowed, but what did that have to do with them? 

Politely, they said goodbye and made their way home. Their parents said something when they entered the apartment, but they didn’t pay them much mind. They turned the idea over and over in their mind. Why did they have to leave the party? They were just one of the girls...

They turned their light off and hopped into bed. They weren’t a girl; they were a boy. Why had they forgotten that? It was the most obvious thing about them. They were the sissy who hung out with the girls, and the other boys at school ensured they never forgot that.

Sitting on their bed, they tried to make sense of that ridiculous idea. Everyone called them a boy, but they didn’t feel like one. Before their sisters moved out, they used to sneak into their room and try on their clothes. They imagined themself in high school dressed like their sisters, with their long purple hair teased up into a magnificent mane.

Their mother would never let them have purple hair, and the image wasn’t quite right.

One day their sister, Rhonda, caught them sitting at her vanity putting on her makeup. She laughed, wiped it off, then taught them how to put it on right. Isn’t that what sisters do?

Ellis dragged their eyes from the shadow play on Penny’s window and stared at the swing set. They moved in the late summer breeze like invisible children swung on them. Their sobs calmed, but the tears wouldn’t stop.

“Why does everyone see me as a boy?” They said under their breath. Then they remembered. Pain dug into them like a predator’s vicious claw. “If there is anyone out there listening, please, let me wake up a girl. Please. I will do anything. Just let me wake up a girl, anything other than this.”

Ellis started sobbing again. They cupped their hands over their hazel eyes as their body convulsed with tears. They couldn’t understand why people couldn’t see them for what they were.

A strange sound attracted their attention to the window.

Dark shadows loomed over the courtyard.

Something blocked out the moonlight and its shadow dimmed the bulbs in the light poles. 

It sounded like the beating of enormous wings.

Whatever it was hung black against the night sky, covering the stars. Ellis wanted to call out to it to take them away, but couldn’t bring themself to open their mouth.

Maybe someone or something heard their prayers and came for them.

Ellis allowed themself to imagine waking up in a different body. This one felt tight, like clothes they’d outgrown, but hadn’t had the chance to replace yet. A smile broke across their face that drove away their tears like the sun against the night.

What should they do? If they opened their window, they could call out to the shadow in the sky so it would know where they were. Or maybe this was one of those things they weren’t supposed to see or it wouldn’t come to them.

Unsure what to do, they laid down in the bed and threw the comforter over their face. They chanted the same refrain over and over in their head, “Please, let me wake up as someone else.” Every time they repeated it, they felt the same twinges of fear and hope. They didn’t know how they would explain to their parents that their little boy was a little girl now, but if they loved them like they claimed, then surely they would be all right with it.

They didn’t want to get their hopes up. After all, they had no reason to believe they would actually wake up any different from what they were now, but it was all they wanted. Then everything would be right with the world, and people might not mistake them for a boy all the time. No matter what their body looked like, they knew that was wrong.

Ellis opened their eyes. Puffy white clouds lazily wafted through the deep blue sky. Just last night, that strange person sat there debating their fate. Life was now stranger than their dreams.

A broad smile broke across their face. When had this last happened? A hazy fog lured them back to sleep in the preternaturally comfortable bed, but how could they sleep when such a strange world awaited them outside the room.

They reached under the blanket and checked the contours of their body. Nothing had changed. No matter how badly they desired it, will alone couldn’t reform their flesh. Years of experimentation proved this to them.

While they slept, someone laid out a set of clothes similar to what they wore the day before next to a cup of water with what resembled a metal microphone upside down in it, and a note.

The note read, “Sprinkle yourself with water from the aspergillum to bathe.”

Ellis pulled the aspergillum from the cup and shook it at themself like a rattle. A refreshing wave rippled over their body with each drop that hit them. After a couple of dips and shakes, they felt like they just stepped out of the shower.

Amazed. They stripped off their dirty clothes and repeated the sprinkling, then dressed in the fresh clothing.

If this was a sample of a life with magic, they were curious to see what else they would encounter here.

They opened the door carefully and looked around. No one guarded their door. Not wanting to wake up their friends if they still slept, they made their way downstairs like they were trying to sneak out of their parents’ apartment to go to a party.

At the base of the tower, they found the large room with tables and chairs set up. With everything that happened last night, they hadn’t realized that the dining hall, and the dorms were in the same building.

They ran their hand across the rough stones in the wall and tried to connect more with this place.

Sister Lydia sat at one of the tables reading a book in a language Ellis didn’t recognize. “Good morning.” She glanced over the top of the book and smiled. “I hope you are ready to have the scales fall from your eyes today.” 

Ellis muttered a few incoherent sounds that didn’t morph into words. How should they have responded to that? After a moment, they said. “I am ready to see what your world has to offer.”

“More for you than for your friends, I suspect.”

“Why? Do you know something I don’t?”

“I expect I know quite a few things you don’t.” She said with a disarming smile.

“I am sure that’s true.”

“What do you want for your breakfast?”

Ellis hadn’t thought about it, expecting just to be served whatever they were having. “French toast and sausage?”

For a moment, Ellis thought they saw the same black cat out of the corner of their eye they’d seen in their room last night, but it was a tiny plump person about knee high carrying a plate of French toast and country sausage to the table.

“Don’t bother waiting on the others,” Lydia said. “Moriah got up earlier and is touring the convent with Sister Luna. Peter is still sleeping and shows no sign he will get up soon.”

Ellis accepted the plate from the tiny being, thanked them and set it on the table. “What... Who was that?”

“Oh, that is one of the domovoy. They take care of the place. Think of them as house sprites. Every building has them, you just aren’t used to noticing them.”

Ellis nodded as if that was a perfectly natural conversation to have with breakfast. How many kinds of creatures were there? They had so many questions, but didn’t want to appear overly eager, so they kept them to themself.

While they ate what had to be the best French Toast they ever had, a little old lady entered the tower. Her blue-white curly hair sat like a pompom around her wizened face. She carried a mug of aromatic black coffee in both hands over to the table. After she took a seat, she turned to the side and watched the activity out the window.

“Are you planning a party?” Ellis asked.

The old lady turned around and answered with the tenderness of a grandmother, “It isn’t every day that lost sheep find their way home.”

“We don’t know if they are staying yet, Nana.” Lydia said.

“Nothing is ever certain, dear. That is why you have to celebrate every little thing you can.” The whites of her eyes sparkled silver in the light as if they were covered in glitter. “Mother Lilith danced as she was escorted from the garden, didn’t she?”

“And she sang.” Lydia said with a grin.

“Exactly, celebrate what you have and don’t mourn what you’ve lost. That’s one of the biggest differences between us and the wrecca.” Nana sipped her coffee and continued to watch the commotion outside as if she were about to give them a score.

“Who is mother Lilith?” Ellis asked.

“The first woman,” the old woman said. “Well, not really. She was the first woman in Yalda Bahuth’s garden. She refused to bow to the craftsman’s plans, and was expelled.”

“Ellis doesn’t know our stories, Nana.” Lydia said.

“Of course not.” The old woman smiled. “Everyone calls me Nana Thea. Welcome home, Ellis.”

Ellis blushed. “Thank you, Nana, but I’m not sure if this is my home yet.”

Nana giggled girlishly. “This wouldn’t be your home, sweet child. You are not a Trivian Sister, and I doubt you would want to be. I’m sure we can find you a home down by the river.”

“Ellis is here to learn about us and our ways, Nana.” Lydia said.

“It is a lot to learn in a short time.” Nana nodded as she spoke. “So let me tell you the one thing you need to know. Here, we are free. Yalda Bahuth has no power over us.”

“I’ve never heard of him.” Ellis said.

“Because he doesn’t want his minions to know him.” Nana said and turned to look back out of the window. “Long ago, the son of chaos desired to convince the world he was the only master who deserved to be followed. When no one paid him any mind, he planted a garden to grow himself a people who would. He kidnapped two children, one was our mother Lilith. She was wise beyond her years and refused to follow his tyrannical dictates.”

“Why didn’t he just kill her?” Ellis asked.

“He tried, but the four luminaries wouldn’t let him. They helped wise Lilith escape. They are the ones who drew you to us.”

Ellis glanced from Nana to Lydia. “We got lost in the woods.”

“Mother Soteria said you found your way to their shrine.” Lydia said.

It felt so long ago Ellis wandered out of their old life. “Those statues of the blindfolded angels?” They said as the world before Graycek came into focus.

Nana smiled at Ellis over her shoulder.

“But there were only three of them. The fourth lay on the ground in so much pain.” Ellis shook the image of the suffering angel from their head.

Nana nodded and returned her attention to the window. “Because Eleleth forsook his privilege to help Mother Lilith. If Yalda would have known what he started, he probably never would have done it.”

What did that mean? A luminary, whatever that was, forsook his privilege to help. All those words made sense individually, but together they posed more of a problem. 

Ellis didn’t want to impose by asking a thousand questions, so they limited themselves to just one. “So we are all the children of this, Lilith?” They asked.

Nana laughed. “No child. Her children are rare, but through us she taught the world the path to freedom.”

This was going to be harder to follow than they thought. Ellis promised themself that they would ask more questions in the future once they knew what ones they needed answered. “And what is the path to freedom?”

“Never bending a knee to anyone.”

The words came so simple and straightforward, but what did they mean? Ellis had never bent the knee to anyone that they could recall. Perhaps it was a metaphor that they didn't understand. The image provoked something in their mind.

Ellis sat back in their chair. The answer to all their questions couldn’t be as simple as that. Besides, how would anyone do that. People loved to lord their power over others. At least they did where they came from. Was it possible it was different here? People couldn’t be that different, could they? “Is that it? All I have to do is never bend a knee to anyone? If that’s true, what was all that drama last night about?”

“The simplest things are often the hardest to do.” Nana said. “The people in your world are obsessed with money and power. Always trying to get ahead of and above others. That is the path of Yalda Bahuth. That is why your kind were exiled.”

“And all I have to do is stop bowing?” Ellis said.

“It seems to me, you already have. I have never known an unbound who did, not a happy or long-lived one, anyway.” 

“People keep calling me that. I don’t understand.”

“Sister Lydia and I were born knowing who we are. You had to figure it out. You had to break every chain other people placed on you to keep you in one of their little boxes. You may not have broken all the way out, but you are no longer in bondage to their labels.”

Tears welled up in Ellis’ eyes. “How do you know that?”

“I can read you like a book, sweet child.” Nana stood up. “I should go to see if anyone needs me for anything. It was good to meet you, Ellis. Good luck with your quest.”

What did she mean by quest? That sounded like someone had told them what to do, or set up a series of obstacles for them to conquer, but they hadn't.

Everything was more complicated, and yet somehow simpler than it had been before.

If this was indeed a quest, they only hoped the reward was worth whatever the price was that they would have to pay.

Moriah awoke rested, at ease with her life in a way so foreign to her. She refused to open her eyes. Yesterday, she discovered the world of magic and mystery she’d longed for all her life. What if she opened her eyes and found it was all a dream?

She stretched out under the perfectly comfortable sheets in a bed someone must have enchanted to encourage deep, dream-filled sleep. This wasn’t her bed. None of her friends made enough money to afford such nice sheets.

Reluctantly, she opened her eyes and gazed at the intricately interlaced wooden ceiling. The freshness of the air greeted her, and she couldn’t help but smile. It was real. It was all real.

Everything about this place was magical, including the shampoos and soaps that they had provided for her to get ready for the day. Even the water in the shower seemed to wash her concerns and cares away.

As usual, Moriah woke up before her friends, or at least none of them were downstairs by the time she got down there.

Sister Lydia sat with another sister at the table when she got downstairs. Steam rose from the fine porcelain tea cups and sparkling forks and knives rested on their empty plates.

Each sister read her own leather-bound book without title or cover image.

It surprised Moriah to see an Asian member of whatever order the sisters belong to. In the world she came from, religion often broke down along racial lines so to see them sitting peacefully together warmed her heart.

She didn't know what the protocol was. Should she join them, sit at another table, or attract their attention. The only thing she was certain of was that she didn’t want to irritate or annoy them, so she just stood at the bottom of the steps and waited for them to acknowledge her.

Sister Lydia glanced up from her book and waved her over to the table. “This isn't a restaurant, you don't have to wait to be seated.”

Moriah’s cheeks burned hot, “I didn't want to disturb you.” She walked over to the table and sat opposite the sisters.

“I don't think that would be possible.” Lydia smiled and put her book down. “Technically, my only duty today, is to look after you and your friends.”

Without asking for it, a plate of eggs, bacon, and buttered biscuits with strawberry jam appeared in front of her. It was exactly what she craved. She glanced around to see where it had come from.

“The domovoy here are good at their jobs,” Lydia said. “You are new here, so they wanted to impress you with your favorite breakfast. Did they get it right?”

Moriah took a bite and nodded.

“That's good. The first night I was here, they picked up on what I thought would be appropriate for me to ask for instead of what I actually wanted. So I ended up with a bowl of plain broth.” Lydia chuckled.

“For my first breakfast, they made me a hamburger and french fries, because all I could think about on the way here was trying more American food.” The other sister said without a hint of an accent.

“This is Sister Luna Shin.” Lydia said. “If you like, she can show you around after you finish breakfast.”

Sister Luna giggled. “I am not used to living in a cloister. I miss meeting new people.”

Moriah smiled. “I would like that.”

Moriah poked at the eggs on her plate. Were they chicken eggs or something else? They tasted rich and buttery, unlike anything she had ever eaten. She’d never had breakfast that good in her life, but didn't want to embarrass herself by asking too many questions.

When she finished eating, Sister Luna agreed to show her the convent’s library.

The sunlight burned her eyes as Sister Luna guided her across the courtyard. Strange birds sang from the trees, songs she’d never heard before. Beautiful melodies that raised her spirits.

Opposite the dormitory, the library towered over all the other buildings within the ancient stone walls. Through the large oaken doors, they entered a small foyer that opened up into an enormous labyrinth of shelves and stairwells leading up into rings of books and shelves going all the way up the tower.

At the ceiling, luminous shapes marking planets, stars and constellations floated freely. She recognized many of the symbols from the astrology books she’d read. The others intrigued her.

Everything smelled of musty, old paper and aged leather. Tables and chairs covered the main floor. Light flashed from a few sisters here and there, studying ancient tomes and testing incantations.

Luna stopped, spun around, and asked, “is there anything in particular you’re interested in reading about?”

Moriah glanced around at all the books in the tower. “How do I choose?” She didn’t know how to answer that question with any word other than everything, so as she too often did in an unfamiliar situations, she kept quiet.

A mischievous glint twinkled in the corner of Luna's eye, and she smiled. “I know something that I think you will love.” 

She led Moriah to the back of the tower and pointed up.

Moriah’s breath caught in her chest.

A painting of a brown-skinned angel with a white blindfold and dress hovered over a flooded classical city. The wing on the left was black with shadows, and the right wing shown with vibrant red and black feathers. Between her hands, something red glowed brightly.

“Who is that?” Moriah asked.

“Amaresh.” Luna said reverently. “That was the day she tried to use the stone of heaven to save Talan tesh from the wrath of the deceiver.”

Moriah reached up to the painting. She didn’t touch it. That was the last thing on her mind.

The blindfolded angel’s expression stoically defied the horror unfolding around her. Flames crackled and hissed as they licked the surface of the flood water. 

People screamed in the background as the angel chanted. Her voice a rebellious melody standing in the breech between life and death. 

Amaresh turned to face Moriah and smiled.

Moriah jumped back.

Luna was gone. 

“Can you see me?” Moriah asked.

Luna emerged from the stacks of books. She stopped and examined Moriah. “Are you alright?”

Moriah had no words. She struggled to make a sound only to hear herself say, “are the paintings alive?”

Luna grinned. “Not always. They move, but sometimes, they take on the life of their subject. Why? Did you see something?”

“Everything.” Moriah said, shaking her head slowly as she dragged her attention from the painting.

Luna flashed a tight but friendly smile. In her arms, she held what appeared to be a book made of glass. She set it gingerly on a nearby table and pulled up two chairs.

“I think you will need one of these.” Luna patted the seat of the chair next to her and waited for Moriah to sit down. “This is a question book. I still love reading them. This one is about history.”

Luna opened the book, but there was nothing in there except for the distorted surface of the table.

“Now, you hold it with both hands, and ask a question.” Luna said.

Moriah grabbed the book with both hands and formulated the perfect question in her mind. But what constituted the perfect question? Should she ask about the covenant she’d heard them talking about last night, or the painting she struggled to drag her attention from?

The glass frosted as if filled with a cold liquid, and words and images appeared as if inscribed on paper.

Tiny figures stood before the stylized form of living mountains. As they moved, the mountains took on an increasingly humanoid figure.

The letters resembled calligraphy from an illuminated manuscript, but she didn't recognize all of them. 

She must have had a strange look on her face, because Luna pointed to the offending letters and explained what they were.

With a little practice, Moriah found it easy to read. It was a story of a terrible war against a dragon called Nyx, and how two Giants foresaw a second war coming.

Moriah slumped back in her chair and gazed with amazement at the magical glass book. “I can't believe they were able to cover up all of this.”

Luna smiled. “My father always said, that's why they invented the dark ages, so they can explain the loss of all that history.” 

“Everything else before that, they said it was a little more than myth in legend.” Moriah shook her head. “How many people know that this is our actual history?”

“Probably not too many. Lies are easier to spread than a conspiracy is to maintain. Most likely, they believe the lies, and no longer have to work to suppress the truth.”

“And the sad thing is, they would write me off as crazy if I tried to tell anyone about any of this.” Moriah gazed longingly up at the portrait of Amaresh among the flames. “Does this thing have her story in it?”

After reading about the adventures of the blinded angel, Amaresh, for hours, Moriah’s thoughts pressed on her mind. Everything she learned in school was wrong. Well, not wrong, but different in the details. This history showed her a world that she hoped, dreamed, and prayed for all her life. Her muscles tightened in her chest and her blood slid like cold, dull blades in her veins.

Like a silent prayer, she whispered, “what is magic?”

The book responded with three words, “connection and passion.”

Moriah closed the book. Those words were so simple, too simple. It must have hid the genuine answer.

“Luna.” Moriah sighed her name as she failed to let go of her anxiety. “What can I do to ensure that they will let me stay.”

Luna tilted her head to the side and repeated the question to herself. “Just tell them you want to stay, and sign the covenant. I can get you a copy of it if you want to read it.”

“It can't be that simple. No one just offers you the keys to the kingdom without wanting something in return.”

“Please don't take this the wrong way, but what could any of us possibly want from you?”

Moriah blinked a couple times.

“Not to be rude, but it's going to take time for you to learn how to use magic properly, for you to become a member of society in full. Until then, and I'm sorry if this sounds harsh, but what use would you be to any of us?”

“You see, that's exactly the point. I am of no use to anyone. So, why would they let me stay?”

“Because you wanted to.”

“Really? That's all it would take?”

“And you would have to sign the covenant. I really don't understand why you were having such a hard time understanding this.” Luna scratched absentmindedly over her right eyebrow.

“Because where I come from, when something sounds too good to be true, it usually is.”

“I don't understand what you mean by too good to be true. Do you think all of this is too good to be true? This is just our life. This could be your life too, if you want it.”

Moriah stared into Luna’s eyes and watched the fires of life glimmer within them. It was remarkable that she couldn't understand what it meant for something to be too good to be true.

She smiled, but the fear lingered within her that somehow she just wasn't good enough. How could she deserve to live in a place like this?

Luna touched the back of her hand lightly before taking it into her own. “You are safe here, or at least as safe as you can ever be in this life. Don't worry about it. There isn't a test. No one is going to judge you on account of your past.”

What a foreign concept? “Then how exactly will I be judged?”

“Is this some kind of game? What are the rules?”

Moriah leaned back in her chair. Luna really didn't understand her. It wasn't the magic that made this place so strange, but the attitudes of the people here.

Moriah squeezed Luna's hand before withdrawing her own. “No, it's not a game. It's just going to take me a while to let that sink in. I'm not used to being treated, well, I don't exactly know the word for how you're treating me, but it's different.”

“Honestly? I think that might be the word you're looking for. I don't have anything to hide. We don't have anything to hide. So we don't have any need for the lies that you've grown up with.”

The first time she was called a child of the lie, it felt like an insult. It was as if they were saying something bad about her parents and grandparents. She felt like they were judging her.

Now, it appeared so much more descriptive. All of her worries, doubts, insecurities were centered around how she was going to save face in front of the strangers so they would allow her to be one of them. She didn't want them to think she was a fraud.

Maybe she was more of a child of the lie than she ever could've imagined before they pointed it out to her. Every moment of her life, she had to judge the nature of the people in the room, and adjust her behavior to fit in, or at least not to stand out too much.

After a lifetime of worrying about what everyone else thought about her, how was she supposed to just flip a switch and not care anymore? Was it even the right thing to do?

Honestly, how could one simple word change in meaning so much in such a short time? She never thought she was being dishonest, but she rarely let people know too much about her. She changed how she acted so she would be safe, never too loud, never playing into the stereotypes that others expected.

Some of that came easily to her, but she well rehearsed the rest, taught to her by her parents and her friends, who just wanted what was best for her.

It was impossible to believe that life could ever be quite so simple, but she hoped that it could.

The simple, seductive idea that she could just be herself, and not have to look over her shoulders, or worry about who in the room might wish to do her harm, or at the very least wish the worst upon her, was inviting.

Despite all of Luna’s protestations, such a world really did sound way too good to be true.

River circled in the air above the Trivian Convent. Mother Soteria’s ever-watchful eye tracked them in their ever widening gyre.

The frosty night air whispered of possibilities, and the endless gaze of the moon bored through them to their very core. There was so much to do, and the order was all important.

They flew toward Rowich. They should inform Michael about the accommodation reached over the three wrecca who wandered into the wild.

A flare of frustrated indigo flame jetted from between their razor sharp teethe and ran in rivulets down the deep blue scales of their face, along the full length of their neck to their shoulders where their enormous bat-like wings spoiled it into whorls of shimmering darkness.

No wrecca eye would see them. Their native draconic form blended too well into the night sky.

The last thing they wanted to do was talk to Michael tonight, but if they didn’t, he would intervene. His highness had no business in these affairs and needed to be driven back before he set his sights on a new puzzle to solve.

From above Blackwood Abby resembled a castle. But then their family wouldn't have anything less, would they? Its tall stone facade stood in defiance of the large open field around it, and the neatly manicured tree line that made almost a perfect square.

Nothing about this place was natural, but that was rather the point.

River landed on top of the tower that housed the Salian order. Transforming back into their human form, their clothes manifested out of the shadows into which they were sent.

They walked down the spiral staircase onto an open observation level of the tower.

Michael stood at the window, his long black hair moving in the breeze. “I'm surprised you sent them home so quickly.” The insincerity of his words undercut his deep voice.

“Mother offered them asylum, they accepted, there was nothing I could do that wouldn't violate the covenant.” River adopted the most businesslike tone they could manage.

Michael sighed. “I wish you wouldn't call that fallen priestess mother.”

“It is her title.” River said, wanting to spit fire at their older brother, but not desiring to fight right now.

Michael spun around and glowered at his sibling. "I know that, but that doesn't mean you have to call her that when she's not around. She offered them asylum, did you say?" He rubbed his square jaw and shook his head slowly. “What could have inspired her to do something like that? The Trivian Folk are not known for their hospitality.”

River glanced at the papers in their brother’s other hand. “Are those about the deathless?”

“Yes. There's nothing but rumors and speculation. You know as well as I do, that our father killed him, and lost his own life doing it.”

River nodded, and turned to the source of the footsteps making their way up the tower.

A short woman, with a round face, silver eyes, and ebony glasses climb the steps and smiled at the siblings. Her long hair faded from black to bright green at the tips. “I really do you need to close the books on today's adventure. What has been done with the exiles?”

River smiled at the book wyrm, and said, “Everything's been sorted out as best as can be, but I will be making regular visits to the convent to ensure that nothing goes wrong.”

Jules' eyes widened. “So, they're staying?”

River nodded. “It seems they have been granted asylum, and from what I have seen I think there's every chance that they will accept the covenant.”

“You can't know that.” Michael said. “At best, the fallen will do everything in their power to add to their numbers. It is, as always, up to us to make sure that everything runs smoothly.”

“And what exactly does that mean?” River said in a huff. “We all signed the covenant. We are all bound by it. I am getting tired of you and mother looking down at the others like you do.”

“I can't speak for our mother, but I don't look down on anyone. Unlike you, I take our responsibilities very seriously.” Michael raised an eyebrow and pursed his lips.

River rolled their eyes. “That's it, listen to me, your lordship, you may not like the way I fulfill my responsibilities, but I don't neglect them. I do things my way, and you do things your way. Your way isn't always the best, or the only way. And the sooner you see that, the better relationships you'll have with people other than your reflection in the mirror.”

Michael didn't respond, but turned around and stared out the window again.

River trudged down the steps, away from their brother. If only they could walk away from the position and the responsibilities they were born with.

Jules followed them down into the tower. “Is it wise to challenge your brother like that, especially in front of one of his subordinates.”

“He may be in charge of the Salian Order, but you are in no way his subordinate, and the sooner you and the rest of the people working here realize that the better.”

Jules giggled and put out an arm to stop River from walking. “So are they the ones we were looking for?”

River flashed her a look that clearly read, “this is not the place or the time for that discussion.”

“I was only asking because I didn't know if I needed to file another report with the others.”

River and Jules walked silently down all the steps to the ground floor and out into the vast open space behind the tower. They stopped before reaching the tree line.

Pulling their attention away from the edge of the forest, River stared up at the moon for a moment, desperate to tap their hopes down. “Yes.”

Jules peppered them with questions, but River acted as if they didn't hear any of them, and stood like a statue gazing endlessly at the night sky.

“If you want to be helpful,” River said with a touch of nostalgia in their voice, “You can reach out to the other members of the circle. Let them know I will be in touch soon.”

“You know, if you weren't so damn secretive about all this, we might help you.”

River smiled at her. “I know, but some things require a personal touch, and others are hard to explain. I'm not trying to keep you out of the loop. There are just some topics that I'm not good at talking about.”

“But you are talking to someone about them, right?” Jules asked.

“A couple people familiar with the matter. Don't worry about me. I'll be fine.”

Without saying another word, River leaped into the air and shifted back into their draconic form.

The cursed earth spun beneath them, threatening to return the damnable sun to the sky. Night never lasted long enough to please them. They needed to take flight. Anything to race away from the thoughts pestering their mind. No matter how fast or how high they flew, they never escaped the concerns that preyed upon them in those moments of weakness.

They were like dreams, no, like the memories of childhood dreams barely remembered in the corners of their mind. If it wasn't for the fact that they knew what it was like to be haunted by ghosts, they would compare it to that as well.

It was a ghost after a fashion, but one impossible to share with anyone. On a couple nights, he even contemplated flying into the sun and allowing the light to burn away everything they were or ever would be.

This was not one of those times.

They considered racing towards their sister’s home, but they didn’t want to share this moment with anyone, not until they understood what was going on.

The cold air crackled with a dewy freshness, warning of the impending sunrise.

They didn’t even realize when they arrived home, walked into the house, or went downstairs to their basement. Stretching their wings out, they curled up into a circle on the collection of large cushions they laid out all over the floor so they could sleep in their true form.

Their eyes adjusted to the abject blackness of the space and relaxed. It felt so good to be in their den, but they knew they had to watch this feeling carefully.

Unlike the other members of their family, they didn't allow themselves the luxury of servants, so the house was empty except for the vagrant spirits who found homes wherever they could.

They calmed their breath, and focused their thoughts. Everything had to be perfect, nothing could be left to chance. It wouldn't be long before they were invested with their title, and what remained of their long life was taken by the mountains of responsibility that would be added to them.

Life was complicated enough with their work for the Salian order, and the two secret societies they had sworn themself too. If they counted their family, that would make it three secret societies.

While they knew other dragons, they weren't close enough with any of them to know whether or not all draconic lineages operated like theirs. Somehow, they doubted others had to put up with the layers of secrecy, and nonsense that the Blackwoods set up around them.

Was life in the family like this before their father died? Sev always talked about him like he was some kind of carefree fae that happened to be a part of their family. River had never met a dragon as carefree as the one that existed in their sister's stories.

This is the price they paid for being born into the night slayers family. People treated them like everywhere they walked was holy ground, and everything they did was right and just.

Their family was anything but right and just. It wasn't like they were a bunch of criminals, but they all played in their own ways on the outskirts of what was right. If the truth ever came out, it would be such a scandal.

The image of reporters interviewing their mother made them laugh. They wondered how many of those interviewers would get roasted alive rather than her submitting to their questions.

River nestled into their bed and told them selves over and over again for today was a good day. They allow them selves to drift off to sleep.

Ellis struggled to take their eyes off River. Sister Lydia gently tugged on their elbow to encourage them to follow her. As they turned away, a frigid emptiness broke within their chest, hollowing them out. 

They and their friends followed Sister Lydia as she led them across the courtyard as strange eyes judged them for crimes they didn’t understand. They entered the largest building, into what must have been the common room or the dining hall of the convent.

Whatever words Mother Soteria and River Blackwood had to share were not for their delicate ears. After all, why would they be interested in their own fate?

Why did these strangers care about their future so much? No one who didn’t know them should have such strong opinions about them. If they really wanted to help, all they had to do was explain the options to them, and then trust them to decide for themselves, but that seemed to be one of the few things beyond their ability.

Sister Lydia waved her hands with a flourish. Gas lamps flickered to life on the walls and candles ignited in the center of various tables around the room.

The interior of the convent lacked the expected austerity of a religious community. Soft cushioned chairs covered in luxurious burgundy and gold fabrics sat around square and circular tables with no high table or place of honor, obvious to the eye.

Sister Lydia showed them to a table in the back of the room farthest from the door and the stairs.

Ellis sat to the left of Moriah, Peter on her other side. Lydia sat opposite them and kept her eyes on them like they were vipers that might strike at any moment.

“I apologize for all of this.” Lydia said, slightly lifting her hands from the top of the table. “I should have wiped your memories and sent you home.” She squinted. 

“Why?” Moriah asked.

“You don’t belong in the middle of this feud.” Lydia said flatly. She glanced at the door. Her upper lip curled. Her voice deepened. “It’s too old and boring to subject anyone to it.”

“I understand nothing that’s happened since we found those statues.” Peter slapped his palms on the table. “We were on a hike, and now we are in a cult compound waiting for strangers to decide what is going to happen to us.”

“They aren’t a cult.” Moriah snapped at him. “We walked off the edge of the map. That’s on us.”

“And now we might never get home.” Ellis said. Their breath caught in their chest. Dizziness twisted their vision. For a second, they forgot where they were.

“Would that be such a bad thing?” Lydia asked. “We learn all about your world in school. I mean, if I had a choice to leave a world built on lies and deceit, I would jump at the opportunity.”

“What are you talking about?” Peter asked.

Lydia frowned. “For starters, you didn’t know magic existed before you ran into Graycek, did you?”

The three shared a glance and sighed in unison.

“I always hoped.” Moriah said. “But no. Magic only existed in fairy tales.”

“I am sure the fae had something to do with that.” Lydia said with a strange look on her face, somewhere between disapproval and amusement.

Ellis straightened up in their chair. “You mean fairies are real too?”

Lydia nodded. “Fairies, dragons, giants, you name it, and it is probably out there somewhere. That is what I am talking about. You know nothing about the real world.”

“How?” Peter said. “Look, I love a good story as much as the next person, but all of this is an illusion. Smoke and mirrors and flash paper. None of it is real.”

Lydia leaned back in her chair and steepled her fingers in front of her face. “I felt the same way when I heard about your world. You don’t have healers. People go hungry, they die of exposure to the elements. You live in a nightmare world, and you want to hold on to that instead of accepting the truth right before you.” She took off her mask, revealing her striking features and brown skin. She was in her late teens or early twenties, like them. “If you want to suffer for the rest of your lives, rejoin the rest of your exiled people. Mother Soteria is offering you a chance at a better life.”

“If you can do all those things, why do you let us suffer?” Peter asked. “How are you any better than we are if you have the power to save so many and don’t?”

Lydia sighed and set her mask down on the table. “What do you want us to do? Conquer you? Force our way of life on you? How would that be just or right? Our people have fought against each other and on the same side since the beginning. We just stopped fighting and let you all have that nightmare you call life.”

“Which is why the age of heroes and legends ended...” Ellis said. “Your people exiled us and magic disappeared from our stories.”

Ellis didn’t want to leave their friends, but if Lydia told the truth, they had to know. Her promises sounded too good to be true, but they begged investigation. If Mother Soteria and River Blackwood decided to cast them out, they would beg to stay.

“Exactly. It wasn’t easy. The elders argued about it for centuries, but they were so tired after the last Great War, they just didn’t want to fight anymore.”

“So you chose to let us suffer.” Peter said.

“We didn’t choose anything.” Lydia said. “We sent our heralds to invite everyone into the covenant. Your ancestors chose not to join.”

“Or had someone else make the choice for them?” Moriah said.

“Not exactly.” Lydia said. “It’s complicated.”

“I’m sure it is.” Moriah said.

“If you stay, I will explain it all to you. But there’s no point getting into it if you are just being sent back to the wrecca.”

“We have to stay.” Ellis said. “If they cast us out, there is nowhere for me to go.” They shook as tears welled up in their eyes. “There’s no room for people like me in the world we grew up in.”

“You belong with us.” Peter said. “To hell with the people who don’t bother to get to know you before they judge you.” He scowled at Lydia when he said that.

“I am just tired of being judged.” Ellis wept.

Ellis just let the tears flow. Peter and Moriah did their best to console them, but they were tired of consolation. They just wanted to live their life their way, and if these people offered even a chance for that, they had to take it.

Despite their fear of opening up to the flood of emotions that tormented them since they were a child, eventually the tears dried up. The pain wasn’t gone, but they just didn’t have any tears left to cry.

In the awkward silence that followed, minutes felt like hours, and Ellis lost all sense of time. They couldn’t believe how long Mother Soteria and River Blackwood argued about their fate. 

Lydia offered them and their friends their own rooms for the night. She said the argument would have to be over by morning no matter the outcome.

What choice did they have? They agreed and were led to separate rooms.

Like everything in the convent, the interior was lush. Ellis’ room was nicer than any hotel they’d ever stayed in. The bed was soft and firm and seemed to cradle them with a mother’s love.

They laid in their bed and stared out the window, hoping Peter and Moriah would be alright in their rooms.

Someone tapped on the window.

Ellis jumped back.

River sat on their window sill rapping with their knuckle on the glass.

Ellis took a deep breath, got out of bed, and opened the window. “Have you made your decision?”

“Nah. Mama is still lecturing me, or at least the image of me.” River grinned mischievously. “I thought I would learn more talking to you.”

“Me?” Ellis stepped out of arm’s reach. “Why me?”

“You aren’t as sure of yourself as the other two, so you might be more honest with me.”

Ellis couldn’t argue with that, no matter how much they might want to. They weren’t as sure of themself and never had been. “What do you want to know?”

“Tell me your truth.” River said, like the question should mean something.

“I was born in Middletown, Maryland in 1976...”

“No, no.” River interrupted. “Not the facts about you. Tell me something true.”

Ellis turned away from the window. “You might as well send us away because I cannot imagine a world where I would fit in.”

Ellis returned to their bed and sat facing River.

River smiled at them and nodded slowly. “I know that feeling all too well. Among the wrecca I would be considered a freak, a monster. My own people don’t see me much differently. I thought you wanted to stay.”

“More than anything.” Ellis sighed. They would not break down crying again. “I just don’t know what to say to make you let me stay.”

“Maybe you don’t have to say anything.” River said. “What about your friends?”

“They are the only people who ever treated me like a real person instead of an oddball. They never made jokes at my expense. They accepted me for me.”

River clapped their hands. “At least you found somewhere to belong. I don’t see anything abnormal about you, except your lack of charms, amulets, and talismans. You do have enough jewelry on to make up for it though.”

Ellis scowled at River. “Was that a complement or a cut down?”

“Neither.” River said. “It is rare that I interact with anyone who isn’t Sith Thyrsa. I suppose it is refreshing.”

“Who isn’t what?”

“On the path of the Giants.” River smiled. “What I hear you saying is that we don’t really have anywhere to send you back to.”

“I am not magical.” Ellis said. “So I could never fit in.”

“I don’t know about that.” River said. “My dear, everyone learns magic. Even the Rephaim, have to study the arts. Power is inherent. Mastery is not.”

Something in the way River said mastery sent chills through Ellis’ whole body. It was akin to how a lion might say hunt.

“So you are willing to teach us magic?” Ellis asked.

“I never said that.” River squirmed on the windowsill. “But I do think that at least you might benefit from staying here. If you want to?”

“People will look for us. Aren’t you afraid people might uncover your little hideout?”

“Not even in the slightest.” A wicked expression cloaked River’s face. “We can cause people not to think about you for your time here. No one will miss you, and if you choose to go back, it will be like you were never away.” River pursed their lips. “I can only imagine the look on Mama’s face when I agree with her.” They hopped off the windowsill and disappeared into the night.

Ellis leaned back in the bed. Nothing that happened tonight made any sense, but then, life didn’t much these days. There was something about River that felt familiar. Maybe it was just that they were as gender nonconforming as Ellis. After all, they never met someone else who wasn’t a boy, wasn’t a girl. What did Lydia call them? Unbound.

Ever since they graduated high school, they just went about their life from day to day doing what was expected of them. They didn’t correct people who caricatured them, went to work, earned money, and did whatever was expected. They never imagined as an alternative, another world that could take them away from the doldrums of life. Even with magic, how different could life really be? More complicated? That went without saying, but the simple banality of living wouldn’t go away just because they could work wonders, would it?

Something in Ellis changed since they talked to River. Were they bolder? It was hard to tell, because that was a word that didn’t fit them well, or at least it hadn’t.

It wasn’t that no one had ever asked them what they wanted before, or actually seemed to care about the answer. Peter and Moriah cared and often asked for their opinion. What was so different this time? 

River’s silver eyes were hard to read, but there was something about the way they looked at Ellis that caused something to stir.

If only it was something as simple as lust or desire, that would have been easy to understand. This was something far deeper, more elusive. Words failed them.

Ellis had no idea how much time passed. The comfortable bed lulled them to sleep not long after River left. At some point later, a gentle knock on the door woke them up.

They sat up in bed and stretched the sleep from their limbs.

Lydia peeked her head in. “Mother Soteria and River Blackwood have agreed on you fate. Please come with me.”

Ellis repressed a giggle. River told them already, but they didn’t want to give up the game.

Peter and Moriah stood in the hall, waiting for them. By the look of them, Peter slept while awaiting their fate. He really could sleep through just about anything. Moriah took time to braid her raven hair in pigtails and fidgeted with the ends impatiently.

The three of them followed Lydia back down the steps, along the corridor and out into the courtyard.

Mother Soteria stood with River beside her. The other sisters watched from their windows in the surrounding towers.

“River and I have reached an agreement.” Mother Soteria proclaimed. “You will be allowed to stay here with us, where we will teach you your lost history, and take you on some trips into Ashborne and Nightfall. Then you will be offered a chance to accept the covenant or return to your former lives with the memories of everything that happened here erased.”

“And if we don’t want to stay?” Peter asked.

“Shut up.” Moriah said, shooting him a scornful glance.

“We are not jailers.” River said. “If you don’t want to accept this offer, then I will take your memories now and escort you home.”

“Do we have the right to discuss this first?” Peter asked.

“What is there to discuss?” Moriah turned to face him. “Think about what we’ve seen tonight, and what more there is to learn. They are offering us magic. Real magic. Why wouldn’t we say yes?”

Peter grimaced like words beat against his lips, trying to escape, but he wouldn’t let them out. “If you are staying.” He said through his teeth, “I am staying.”

Moriah turned to Ellis, who just smiled back at her.

“I knew you had good taste.” Moriah smirked. “It’s agreed then. Do we have to sign anything?”

“In blood?” Peter said under his breath.

“Not unless you choose to stay.” Mother Soteria said. “Unless you have something against her, Sister Lydia will lead you back to your rooms, and we will begin in the morning.”

“And I will return tomorrow night to check on your progress.” River said with what sounded like a rehearsed menace in their voice. They motioned to Sister Lydia, who walked over.

River said something that took Mother Soteria and Lydia aback.

They whispered among themselves feverishly. Mother turned and looked from Peter to Moriah to Ellis, then said something to River that made them laugh.

“What do you think that’s all about?” Moriah asked.

“They are probably devising ways to torture us.” Peter said.

“You can’t believe that.” Moriah said. “Except for Graycek, they have been nothing but generous to us.”

“Is that what you call this? They have threatened us and locked us in a tower like a fairy-tale princess.”

“I don’t mind being treated like a princess.” Ellis said, “It is better than being treated like trash.”

Peter stiffened his back. “Who’s treating you like that?”

Ellis raised their palms to calm him down. “It’s not one person. It is everyone. Moriah and I are excited about this, so just let us be happy.”

“I don’t trust them.”

“Then don’t trust them.” Moriah said. “We don’t have to trust them, not yet. We just need to give them a chance to prove themselves. I want to see what else they have to offer before I decide one way or another. Is that too much to ask?”

Peter shook his head.

“If you're ready to head up.” Sister Lydia said behind them.

Ellis smiled and nodded at her, then watched River turn and walk into the dark night. They disappeared into the shadows.

The spectral form of Graycek rose from the ground and danced around them, singing a dirge with only the words “Fresh meat” in it.

Sister Lydia led them back into the tower with a fresh spring in her step.

When they reached the floor their rooms were on, she said, “I had a sleeping draught brought up for each of you. If you choose to drink it, you will wake up refreshed no matter how much sleep you got.”

Ellis thanked her, walked into their room. For a split second, they thought they saw a black cat sitting on the nightstand next to the cup. They drank the cup of purple liquid and sat the cup back on the nightstand next to the bed and remembered nothing until morning.

Ellis helped Peter and Moriah to their feet, and they followed Lydia through the dark woods. Nothing made sense to them since they found those statues.

The dead Graycek danced in a mad circle around them, singing the melody of an ancient children’s song in a language Ellis didn’t know.

If this were a prank of some sort, the level of commitment was beyond anything imaginable.

They didn’t speak as they followed the mysterious, flying nun, who landed when they reached a paved path up to an old stone building atop a hill. A high stone wall with a wrought-iron gate surrounded the odd circular building which loomed over them. Unlike any church or cathedral they’d visited, this building welcomed them like a long-lost child returning home.

It was just their luck they ran into a cult in the forest who would probably sacrifice the three of them to their pagan gods.

Past the ornate wrought-iron gate in the circular wall, they entered a courtyard. A group of nuns stood in a V in the center before the carved wooden door of the main building.

The iron gate clinked shut behind them.

At the point of the V, a skeletally thin woman with her face covered waved them closer with a boney hand.

“Mother Soteria,” Lydia said. “These are the wrecca who violated the wild.”

“Thank you, my child.” She responded with a spectral voice that had a rich British accent. Or was it Irish? “Welcome to our sanctuary, sweet children of the lie.” She bowed graciously toward them.

“They claim not to know how they passed through the barrier.” Lydia said.

“As I expected.” Mother Soteria said.

Her voice made the hairs on Ellis’ neck stand up like a heavy thunderstorm approached.

“I am much more concerned with what to do with you.” Mother Soteria continued. “I should take your memories and send you on your way. The Salians would do as much, but their ways are not always ours, are they sisters?”

“We serve the will of the Great Mother.” The other nuns said reverently in unison.

“But if you passed through the barrier, you may not be wrecca, so it would be wrong to return you to the ranks of the exiles who raised you.” Mother Soteria stepped toward them. Each footfall matched an odd clacking sound. “One of you is male, so we should call Father to judge him.”

The other nuns laughed.

Ellis didn’t get the joke, but it was apparently a good one.

“For now, you know that magic exists and things really go bump in the night.” Mother Soteria said, raising her hands flexing her hands to mimic a cartoonish monster. “The question is, do you want to know more?”

“I’ve studied Hermeticism and Rosicrucianism.” Peter said.

The nuns laughed harder.

Mother Soteria’s laugh chilled Ellis to the bone.

“Oh, you sweet thing,” Mother said, still laughing, “I mean real magic.” She waved her hands and whispered something under her breath and a ball of fire burst into life between them, hovering about a foot off the ground. “I’m afraid your Hermes and ours are very different people.”

Ellis wiped the sweat from their forehead. Whether it was from the heat of the flame or fear, they couldn’t tell.

Mother Soteria clapped her hand, and the fireball exploded.

The flames licked at the tip of Ellis’ nose.

When the light faded, the remnants of the fire burned away the religious garb of the nuns and Mother Soteria, and they resembled a crowd of girls at a Goth Night, all black leather or lace or velvet with shining silver chains and spikes.

Mother Soteria wore a black Victorian dress trimmed with white lace and a blank, expressionless porcelain mask covering her face.

On closer inspection, that wasn’t a mask. She painted her face stark white with black around her eyes, outlining her cheeks. On her forehead, she wore a circlet with a red metal circle with a silver T in the bottom half, and twisted black horns that curled from her forehead to point behind her.

Ellis fought the instinct to run screaming. None of this could be real.

Peter retched.

Moriah stood tall, grinning.

“None of this surprises you, girl?” Mother asked.

“I always knew life couldn’t be as simple as they say it is.” Moriah said. “I always wanted magic to be real, but nothing I’ve tried ever worked like that.”

Mother laughed and clapped her hands together. They made a sound like a struck wood block. “Then you may be one of us.”

“I don’t want to be a nun.” Moriah said.

Ellis couldn’t believe what they saw or heard. Sure they wanted to live in an enchanted world, who didn’t? But this was too much.

“Stay with us then.” Mother said. “Why go back to your other life?”

Ellis shook their head. “People will miss us?”

“Only if you want them to.” Mother responded.

For a second, Ellis swore they saw her cold demeanor crack as she smiled for a fleeting moment.

“Are we your prisoners?” Ellis said.

“Better ours than the Salians.” Mother said. “They would make you forget everything and send you away. We are offering you a new life. Besides, I was unaware that an unbound like yourself could be a prisoner.”

“Unbound?” Ellis asked.

“Not a boy, not a girl.” 

Something stirred in Ellis as she spoke.

“Don’t worry, child, you will like it here. Our way of life is different, but will probably be more to your liking.”

“It is not just different,” Graycek said in a mocking tone. “It is better. A life of magic and mystery, filled with spooks and monsters.” He cackled.

“I’m in.” Moriah said.

Peter whipped his head around to stare at her like she slapped him.

“You can’t be serious.” Ellis said. Monsters and ghosts weren’t their idea of a good time or a better life.

“Do you want to forget everything we’ve seen tonight?” Moriah asked.

“A lot of it.” Ellis said, glancing at Graycek.

“If Moriah’s staying,” Peter said with a waiver in his voice, “Then I am too.”

All eyes fell on Ellis. 

“I can’t leave the two of you here.” Ellis surveyed the strange surroundings. “We set out for a crazy night, and this counts, I suppose. Fine. I’ll stay.”

“Really?” an androgynous voice said behind them.

Ellis started and spun around.

A tall person in a white asymmetrical tunic and black jeans leaned on the gates with their arms crossed. Their red hair burned in the Moonlight like fire. “I don’t think that you have the right to keep them here.” They said in a knowing tone. “I could allow it, but only because it would irritate my brother to no end.”

“Childe Blackwood.” Mother Soteria said. “I am surprised you came instead of the Salians.”

Childe Blackwood cringed at her words. “Call me River and save all that Lord and Lady shit for my brother, sister, and mother.” Fire flickered in their solid silver eyes. “Michael wanted to send them, but I was bored and a little human hunting sounded fun. You broke my heart finding them first.”

“I found them.” Graycek said with a flourish, a bow, and a wave to an imaginary cheering crowd. At least Ellis hoped they were imaginary and not just invisible to them. “So sad they are not food for you. Maybe you should hunt somewhere else.”

River laughed. “You know I wasn’t going to kill them. Mama would be ever so pissed at me for that.”

“Unless you shared their sweet, sweet human meat with her.” Graycek said.

“Let me in so I can assess them.” River said, suddenly serious.

Did they actually eat human flesh? What kind of place was this?

“So sorry, but we granted them asylum, and they accepted.” Mother Soteria said.

River smirked and shook their head slowly. “You can’t believe they are children of Gramarye.” They said. “They are not related and the odds for three orphans finding their way home is highly unlikely.”

Mother Soteria walked to the iron gate, then said in a seductive tone, “They are children of mother Lilith, and if they haven’t fallen for the lie, then they have a claim to their birthright.”

River rolled their eyes and sighed. “You are claiming they came seeking asylum? Lady Blackwood won’t buy that for a second. Besides, you of all people know they are not true children of Lilith. If they were, I would smell the ashes on them.”

“No, dear Childe, I am saying the Great Mother drew them here, and have the right to learn of their birthright and choose to sign the covenant or forget everything they have seen.”

“Birthright? Do you have any proof they were to raise Trivian? I doubt it.”

“Do we get a say in any of this?” Ellis asked.

“Not if you want to live.” Graycek intoned in a song of warning, “At least, not yet.”

“We should.” Moriah said. “And we have. Mother told us we could stay. If we are the children of the lie, what does that make you?”

River grinned. “Well said, but I don’t think you truly understand what you are asking. If I let you stay here, even for a while, it will be so much more work for us when we send you back.” They stopped talking and looked at Ellis. Their eyes flared. “Besides, it isn’t your decision, at least not yet.”

“It isn’t yours either.” Mother said firmly.

“Mother,” River said with a silky, inviting tone, “You can’t expect them to accept the Trivian way based on what they see in your convent. Let me take them into Ashborne or Nightfall. There they will encounter the varieties of human magic.”

“Including drycraft.” Mother spat. “They will be fine here.”

“All humans practice drycraft whether or not they admit it.” River grinned. “Are you afraid they will reject your Great Mother if they see the alternatives?”

“Not at all.” Mother’s voice was calm and measured. “What more could you offer them that we couldn’t? Besides, I thought we weren’t in competition. Doesn’t the covenant say something about us all having to get along? I simply don’t believe you will give them a chance to be free.”

Sister Lydia Talbot kneeled in prayer with her sisters around the solitary red candle. Her knees pressed into the hard, cold stone floor of the convent. Shadows stretched from the high pointed windows over her and her sisters in faith. The leering moon sought a glimpse of the sanctum.

Luminous golden butterflies emerged from the dark skin on the back of her hands. They encircled them as they said their prayers to the Great Mother to protect the village from the villainy of the liars who lost access to magic centuries ago.

She’d grown up away from the technological terrors of the unsotha, or wrecca. These liars, exiles, refused the honest path of the giants. Her people didn’t abandon their faith either, but they still pledged themselves to the covenant. They weren’t liars, and greed was a vice in short supply among them. Lydia imagined the cruelty of the wrecca world as clear as any nightmare she’d ever had.

To her right, Sister Rayvinn, who practically glimmered in the soft candlelight, manifested silver braids from her hands to weave the community together. On her left, Sister Ines summoned forth a shower of cleansing light that rose through the air to heal their people. 

The flame of the red candle between them turned black. Each of the sisters finished their last incantation and listened reverently.

“Sisters.” The spectral, accented voice of their Mother Soteria caused the black flame to flicker as it carried her voice into the room. “Three wrecca wandered into our lands. The Salian Guards of Blackwood Abbey have been alerted, but it would be better if we investigated their presence first to discover how they made it past our defenses. Sister Ines, check the strength of the barrier. Sister Rayvinn, speak to the leshy. Sister Lydia, go to the Shrine of the Manes and find out what they know.”

Lydia choked down her desire to protest her assignment and intoned with her sisters, “As you wish, mother.”

Mother Soteria wouldn’t punish her for speaking up, but it was unnecessary to make a fuss. The Salian Guard would show up before too long, so she didn’t have too much to fear from the wrecca. Besides, she had magic and could defend herself from whatever they threw at her.

She stood with her sisters and donned her simple white porcelain mask. She nodded at them and left the chantry to retrieve her broom. Strictly speaking, she didn’t need it to fly, but added to her wimple, scapula, and tunic, it would complete the image of a witch the wrecca made for themselves. Intimidation was a valuable first gambit when interacting with the exiles.

A promise weighed on her heart, another obligation that she brought with her to the order. If any of the exiles were ever to return, she swore to send a message.

Energy crackled from her hand into the wood of the broom, and it floated at waist height before her.

Lydia sat on the broom like she would on a ledge. She whispered a prayer to the winds and kicked up into the sky. Flight was freedom, even if she had to pay the cost for it. Sure, later tonight, her muscles would ache down to the bone, but it was worth it.

She flew in a spiral high above the convent, and whistled the secret song into the night air, giving it enough magic to carry to the ears who needed to hear it.

Arising like a soft crescendo, the heavy beat of dragon’s wings approached from the west. Her green and black scales glistened in the moonlight.

Lydia smiled. 

The book wyrm, Jules, flew toward her with the fae Orla riding on her back.

Orla’s face shone silvery white like the moon. She whispered the words and wove with her fingers the web of light between them so their words would carry without having to shout.

“May the peace of the blinded angels find you well,” Orla said, as if they were sitting across from each other at a table in a quiet room.

“And may their sacrifice ever live on through us.” Lydia lowered her head as she spoke. “Three wrecca have made it into the wild, and I was told if this were to happen that I needed to inform the order.”

Jules puffed out a cloud of smoke. “I am sure they know already, if this is that, but we will pass along your message.”

“How am I to recognize if they are the ones?” Lydia asked. Dragons and fae were not the ones to seek simple answers from. Nothing the order did was ever simple, either.

“The standing order doesn't say.” Orla said in a businesslike tone, then added colloquially, “But you would think if they really wanted us to find someone, they would give us more details, wouldn't you?”

Lydia laughed. “Well, I suppose it wouldn't be much of a secret society if they didn't keep secrets even from us.”

Jules laughed, and flames flashed into the air below Lydia's feet. “There are many rumors about shadows haunting the night. Some say that the deathless has returned.”

“Why can't people except that deathless has finally died?” Lydia rolled her eyes, remembering the tales of the battle of winter’s end.

“Maybe because he's called the deathless for a reason?” Jules made a smoky hiss that anyone familiar with dragons new as a sign of sarcasm.

“After all, how many times has he been reported dead?” Orla said.

“But they found a body, and it hasn't moved, this time he is really dead.” Lydia said.

“That is not dead, which can eternally lie…” Jules said, adding a deep chested echo to her voice.

“But this time I assure you, the deathless has truly died.” Lydia shook her head. “So you truly know nothing about the wrecca we're supposed to be keeping an eye out for?”

“Only you do. Did you find it odd that they keep bringing it up at every briefing? If it was so important, what aren't they telling us?”

The Blinded Angels, like most secret societies, compartmentalized the information they held and sought, so only a few beheld the complete picture. Unlike their counterparts, they weren’t ancient, arise alone with the wrecca nation in which they were founded. How many secrets we kept in their vaults?

It made no sense for the order to fixate on the fate of a particular exile. The only reason that possibly made sense was that they were trying to revive one of the old hunter's guilds, but there hadn't been open conflict between the magical and non-magical world since the 1940s. Hopefully, the mistakes of the past were not about to repeat themselves.

“I would keep an eye out, though, if I were you,” Jules said in a hushed tone, well as muted as a dragon could be. “If chaos really is brewing, you will want to stay as far away from it as you possibly can.”

“What exactly do you mean by chaos?” Lydia asked.

Orla glanced around to ensure that they weren't being observed. Light flickered in her eyes and she extended her vision far beyond what she could ordinarily see. “There has been a great concern growing in the county court. We're not entirely sure what it entails, but I can say with some certainty that the dark gentry no something they're not telling the rest of us.”

“They are not even telling the other dragons.” Jules said. “I don't know. It's not strange for dragons to keep secrets from other dragons, but this is different. I've had a very close relationship with Severina for ages, and every time I ask her about it, she changes the subject.”

“Do you think it's just a bit of a family scandal or something more?” Lydia asked.

“Well, I know most of the family scandals, and if this is one of those, then it must be quite a doozy if they're hiding it even from me.” Jules spoke with the solemnity uncommon to her.

“Come to think of it, Mother Soteria has been rather cagy about something lately. I just thought it had something to do with the elders that we keep in the crypt.” Lydia struggled to remember the situations she was referring to. “There are more sarcophagi from the old country scheduled to arrive soon, but I refuse to think they would smuggle anyone dangerous into the country.”

“They don't have to be dangerous,” Orla said, “just someone who isn't supposed to be here.”

This was the one thing that Lydia hated most about being a part of the blinded angels, all the secrets and innuendo.

Mother had done nothing, really, to make her suspicious, and yet here she was doubting her. All things being equal, she never would doubt someone she would become so close to. In times like these, though, all things were no longer equal.

Lydia thanked Orla and Jules and watched them fly off to deliver her message.

If nothing else, she's done her duty, and what else could I ask from her. It was just difficult to live up to her obligations when she didn't know what all they truly wanted from her.

Flying over the stone walls of the convent, she headed toward the wild, keeping mindful of the wyverns recently spotted in the area. They would be difficult to see against the night sky, but sound of their wingbeats should give them away.

Just ahead of her, Graycek’s cackling laughter scared the birds from their roosts.

With a shake of her head and a silent sigh, Lydia descended between the tree branches to the shrine.

Three young people sat in a circle with their backs pressed against one another, shaking with fear as the lanky di inferi Graycek danced wildly around them.

Lydia hovered over the statues of the blinded angels and said, “Stop that, Graycek. You’re lucky I arrived before the Salians, they might have banished you back below.”

Graycek stopped on the spot and curled his lip at Lydia. “Oh, that would be so much worse than being here. I stopped them from running so we could deal with them our way, would your rather I let the leshy have them?”

Lydia responded with a stern gaze before turning her attention to the wrecca. “Now, the three of you must not speak except to answer my questions. Don’t lie to me, and do not try to drag me into your lies. Do you understand?”

The three wrecca passed a frightened glance between themselves, then nodded.

“How did you get here?” Lydia asked.

“On foot.” The male almost snarled at her.

“How did you get past the barrier?” Lydia said.

“We didn’t see a fence or a sign on the path.” The woman said.

Lydia landed before the third person, who hadn’t said a word. “What is your name?”

“Ellis.”

“Well, Ellis, my name is Lydia. Do you know how you got past the barrier?”

“We just wanted to have a picnic, and got lost.”

Lydia narrowed her eyes. “I don’t think you did.” She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I need you to follow me. Mother Soteria needs to speak with you.”

The specter glowered down at them from the top of the angelic statues, in a perverse mockery of everything Ellis ever thought or believed about the world.

“Th-thank you.” Ellis stammered, gripping onto Moriah’s arm.

“What are you, really?” Moriah almost whispered.

“What?” The inferi pantomimed shock. “How rude is that? I didn’t ask you what you are. Granted, I doubt any of you would know how to answer that question, anyway. I am Jeffry Graycek, but if you call me Jeffry or Jeff, I will take your soul here and now. As to what I am, dear girl, I am dead.”

“Liar.” Peter found his voice, even though he hadn’t stood back up. “The dead are gone. There’s no coming back.”

“So true.” Graycek clicked his tongue and shook his head, “but I went nowhere, fool. My children made sure of that. Thank the Great Mother, I suppose, but I would have liked to be asked if I wanted to hang around after the end.” He pointed at the plaque on the ground. “That is my grave. You can dig me up, if you like, to see if I am still there.” 

His mouth broke open into that nightmarish, unsettling, oversized grin. He hopped into the air and hovered over the blindfolded angel statues. “The real question is what to do with you all. Mother Soteria must know you are here by now. I should keep you here until the Trivian Sisters arrive, but I would love to see the look on mama’s face when she finds out you escaped.”

Ellis stood still. Years of bullying taught them to always keep an eye out for aggressive movement.

Moriah giggled nervously. “Then why don’t you let us go then.”

“Maybe I don’t want to?” Graycek said. “Perhaps I want to have you for my own.”

“To do what?” Peter asked.

Graycek made a sound between a sigh and a moan, and silently clapped his hands so slowly it was like the surrounding air resisted the motion. “Oh, there are so many things I could do. Maybe feed you to a beast, divide you body from soul just to see how you would react. Or perhaps I could just stare at you to see what mischief you bring upon yourself.”

Ellis steadied themself. “I doubt you will do any of that.”

“And why is that?”

Ellis shivered under the inferi’s icy gaze. “You said you were a god? Who would worship someone so cruel?”

Graycek laughed derisively. “That is a title, a figure of speech. No one worships me. I am a servant to my community, which you are not a part of. Some might even say you are a threat to it, and that I should treat you as such.”

“We are no threat.” Moriah said.

“Aren’t you?” Graycek hopped onto the ground right in front of her. “You come from the kingdom of the son of chaos, the domain of the lie. We have worked hard to keep your poisons out of our land.”

“We are from Maryland.” Peter found the strength or courage to stand up.

“Yes, I know.” Graycek spun and ran up on Peter in the blink of an eye. “Do you think I care what you call your homeland? Those are just words. I remember life among your kind. The greed and hatred, you are nothing but a danger to yourselves and others.”

“We are not a threat.” Moriah said. 

“Oh,” Graycek sang out and fainted backwards, throwing his arm up to his forehead. “We wish you no harm.” He rolled through the ground and emerged again, right at Moriah’s feet. “Now, why don’t I believe you? Is it because I remember the witch-hunts, the hatred in the eyes of the men who murdered my parents, or is it because you grew up in a world where truth is a commodity bought and sold like cattle, and treated just as kindly in your abattoirs of greed. Don’t think you can trick me. I have seen what you are capable of.”

“We’ve never harmed anyone.” Ellis said.

Graycek slunk around Moriah and stood nose to nose with Ellis. “Is that because you haven’t had the chance yet, or because you haven’t felt justified enough to carry the act out? Don’t think you can fool me, playing innocent. You have no idea how old I am, how much I have seen. I know your kind well.”

Those words cause something to snap inside of Ellis. “What the fuck do you mean by, my kind?”

The inferi grinned a ghastly glare at them. “If only you knew, but it is not for me to say. I am not your educators, teaching is not what I do. And more is the better for you, because I would claw that foul little mouth right off your face.”

Courage, or blind foolishness, took over Ellis. “I doubt you would touch me. Since you're not the one in charge, your masters would not take kindly to you for doing so.”

Graycek clapped his hands. “Well said, child, well said. But I have no, masters as you put it, but it would be a pity to deprive myself of the spectacle that a wrecca in the wild would provide.”

“What did you call them?” Moriah said with a fury in her voice that would've warned any normal person to stay quiet.

“A wrecca, an exile, you foolish girl. That's what you all are and what you should all remain.”

The specter laughed and danced in a wide circle around them, so quickly there was nowhere for them to run or escape. “You see, children, once upon a time your kind was asked if they could stop being greedy, and stop lying, just for a while. I asked them to be nice, and they refused. They thought it would be better for them as they continue to hoard the things that they believe brought them wealth and power. Fools, fools, a lot of them were fools. And so you were exiled, kicked out of the real world, to live in squalor that you're kind loves so much.”

The specter’s laughter turned into an echoing howl that reverberated through the forest and shook more leaves off of the trees.

“I don't try to say that you've never heard of such a thing. Because, of course, they lied to you about it. Lying is what your people do best.”

“So you're saying that everything we ever knew was a lie.” Peter said, crossing his arms.

“Oh, yes, lies, lies, and more lies.” The specter laughed and cackled as he continued his dizzying dance around them.

The air grew colder, and other eyes watched them from the darkness. Some were hungry, but others just curious.

“So, what are you going to do to us?” Moriah asked.

“Me?” Graycek stopped in front of her with his hand over his mouth and a shocked expression on his face. “Silly girl, I am going to watch. I don't know what they are going to do to you. I don't even know which fae is going to get you. Can't you just be quiet and enjoy the drama of the situation? Soon, you may be dead, or sent back whence you came. Who is to know and who is to say? But I promise you that if I had my way, your skin would adorn all of the trees, and your soul would be mine with the greatest of ease.”

“And what is stopping you from having your way?” Peter asked.

“Only my desire to see what the others will make of you. Will they get here before the hunters who have your scent arrive and tear you limb from limb? Or will the dark lord lock you in a tower to find out how you circumvented his protections? Or will Mother Soteria make a feast of you for all of the village to enjoy.”

He clapped his hands and somersault it backwards through the air. “There's so many outcomes. The fun will be seeing which one comes to fruition.”

“Is all of this showmanship supposed to be scaring us?” Moriah said with a bored, disaffected tone.

“No. Trust me. If I wanted to scare you, you would know. Honestly, all of this is meant to distract you. To keep you busy and buy time for the others to get here.”

“What others?” Peter asked.

“Haven't you been listening? Well, I suppose even if you had, your simple little mind wouldn't have comprehended any of the things that I have told you, and I have told you more than I should have.”

Ellis ignored the specter and returned their attention to the statues. That same angel called out to them. His name was on the tip of their tongue. They didn't know why. They had never studied angels, or angelic folklore, but somewhere deep down they knew that angel.

They shook their head. The specter still taunted them, but he wasn't a threat. But whatever in the statue that called to them was.

Oroiael. Was that the name of the angel, which is a series of sounds forcing themselves together in their mind. The more they repeated the word, the more it felt right. Oroiael, Oroiael, but where have they heard or seen that name before?

It didn't roll off the tongue easily and didn't sound like any of the names he remembered from the Bible stories they’d read as a child.

While the statue didn't move, Ellis was sure that it acknowledged its name when it was spoken.

Its blindfolded face stared at them through the cold stone, driving all the other thoughts and fears away.

Ellis searched the air for a hint of the angel’s voice, as if certain it tried to speak to them. That was stupid. Statues didn't speak to people. And spirits didn't rise from the ground to torment people, either.

Rubbing their eyes, they wondered when they would wake up from this strange dream. None of this could be real.

They lived their life uncertain about almost everything, their gender, their sexuality, where they fit in the world, what they wanted to do with their life but this one thing they were sure about: there was no such thing as magic.

Ghosts didn't exist. None of this was real. They were having a dream that persisted for far too long. When they woke up, they would tell Moriah and Peter about it, and they would laugh.

They just didn't understand why they hadn't woken up yet. Usually, the moment they realized they were dreaming, their eyes popped open.

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The moon struggled to peek through the leafless branches of the trees, as three fools lost their way hiking through the woods below.

These three friends wended through the maze of trees with an unearned confidence to have a moonlit picnic by their favorite waterfall in the Catoctin State Park. Sure, it was the only real waterfall in the park, but they liked to pretend there were many of them scattered throughout the autumn forest.

The early fall air greeted them with a stale dew, and a lingering mustiness from the scattered leaves still falling like large, golden snowflakes on the ground.

Other laws forbad them to be in the woods after dark, especially this far into the wild. They parked their car along one of the side roads and hiked in, so they wouldn’t arouse as much suspicion. 

Like most people, they forgot about the spirits of the moon, the trees, and the streams all around them who followed their progress through the natural maze.

Slightest of the three, a person with aquamarine eyes, paused and glanced around. They swore they heard a laugh. The hair on the back of their neck stood up. 

Subtle laughter peppered the air, but they were damned if they could find the source of the sound. Unfortunately, they didn’t consider searching the shadows for the klatch of Pooka clasping their hands over each other’s mouths to muffle their laughter, so they saw nothing.

The poor fools didn’t realize how far they wandered off the trail.

“This is a winding path you picked for us.” They barely masked their frustration.

Their apparent leader, Peter Wysong, a tall, thin male with shoulder length straightened and dyed black hair pinned back behind his ears insisted repeatedly to them with so much misplaced confidence that he knew where they were going, the others didn’t bother correcting him.

The slight androgynous member of their group, Ellis Nicks, contorted their face now and then in doubt of Peter’s latest pronouncement, but they said nothing else. Their aura sparkled and danced with frustration, but they didn’t want to start an argument. Something else played in their aura, more illusive, but no less present. It was difficult to discern. Perhaps it was nothing more than a juvenile frustration that their life circled the path their heart desired, but was yet to find it.

Moriah Sennett, the third member of their little band, dressed like a tomboyish, black Wednesday Addams. She kept a close eye on the shadows, as if she expected to see something moving in at them at any moment.

They were so far from the falls and getting farther all the time. None of them noticed when they passed through the barrier meant to keep the ignorant from entering the truly wild woods. 

The moon saw and struggled to keep an eye on them.

How had they passed through the barrier meant to keep the exiled wrecca from the land of the spirits? It happened every once in a while, and it rarely ended well for the poor lost souls.

Peter pointed down one of the animal trails at the crossroads and declared that he heard the falls over there.

An inferi in the dark forest smiled, a sharp toothed grin too wide for its face, and stalked alongside them.

Ellis chastised themself for not speaking up. They never corrected Peter, even when they knew he was wrong. The falls were miles away, but they couldn’t find the strength or the will to say it. They were just happy to be along for the adventure.

They didn’t expect Peter to berate them or kick them out of the group. He wasn’t like that. They grew up together, and never treated Ellis as different or other. 

Moriah was the same way. Like Peter, she had a hard demeanor that didn’t reflect who she was. All three of them had to toughen up for different reasons, but along with their mutual interest in the macabre and the gothic bound them together.

Ahead, a strange, warm glow illuminated the path from behind a rock outcropping. The light flickered like a flame.

“Someone is over there.” Ellis whispered, stopping in place and grabbing Moriah’s hand to stop her from continuing on. They didn’t want to be alone.

Moriah smiled at them and stopped.

“It’s just some others who had the same idea we did.” Peter said with his trademark confidence and roguish grin.

“And if they attack us?” Ellis said.

Peter almost laughed and took a step toward them. “Then we fight back. Don’t worry. I’ve got your back, come on.”

Peter patted Ellis on the arm, looked deep into their eyes, and encouraged them to press on.

“You know the kind of trouble I had in Thurmont last week, I don't want to get into another fight. I'm fucking tired of fighting.” Rage burned inside of Ellis. They hated having to explain why they looked and acted like they did to every stranger who felt entitled to an explanation.

“That's what I'm here for.” Peter smirked. “But I seriously doubt it'll come to that. Don't worry so much.”

“Besides,” Moriah said, “what are the odds we're going to run into some drug dealers or some kind of strange cult out here in the woods? Our luck isn't bad enough to have something like that happen to us.”

“And now you've jinxed us.” Ellis rolled their eyes. “You know anytime you say what are the odds, you're tipping them in favor of the bad thing happening, right?”

Moriah winked at them. “Maybe I'm just tired of everyday feeling the same, and I just want some excitement in my life.”

Ellis sighed, “Fine, but on your head be it.”

Peter chuckled, turned, then continued down the path. 

Moriah stroked Ellis’ hand tenderly and followed Peter toward the light.

Ellis choked down their fear and trudged on. There was safety in numbers, after all. They didn’t believe it, but it was a good enough excuse to keep moving.

Peter stopped first. Moriah bumped into him, then joined him in a slack-jawed stare.

Ellis, already nervous about the strange light, crept around the corner.

Three stone angels stood in a semicircle around a fourth that lay prone, reaching up into the sky. A variety of candles, each a different color, height, and circumference, surrounded the effigies. Their flickering light illuminated an unnaturally sizeable area cleared of leaf litter. Patches of moss and lichen covered the carved stone angels, three of which stood in various serene poses. Whoever chiseled them into being carved lifelike blindfolds over their eyes of the three standing.

The angel on the ground stared at its onlookers with an anguished expression on its face. It reached a still arm toward them, inviting them to take it, help him, and free him from the pain.

Ellis stopped themself from reaching to take the figure’s cold hand. They felt the angel’s pain in their heart.

The angel in the middle stood with his wings up, proud and defiant. The one on the right kneeled down to aid their fallen comrade. Something about the one on the left drew Ellis’ attention more than the others. There was a serene, dream like attitude etched into its cold stone face.

“Amazing,” Moriah said.

In a semicircle around the statues were three small, stone plaques reading, “D Lila Rook M,” “D Emmerich Leeward M,” and “D Jeffry Graycek M.” In the center, right next to the anguished angel, another plaque read, “D Saint Elwin Rathmore M.”

Peter swore.

Moriah gasped and clasped her hands over her mouth.

“Is it an old catholic cemetery?” Ellis asked.

“Not with only three graves.” Moriah said.

Ellis resisted the tug that they felt, drawing them ever closer to the statues. Something was familiar about them. They've seen them before, but couldn't put their finger on when, or where.

“Is this a replica of a famous statue?” Ellis asked, holding the muscles on their arm still. They wanted to touch the stone, to connect with them.

“Not that I've ever seen.” Moriah said. “It's at least not a statue by any of the masters that I've studied.”

“And I don't know of a myth or legend about a fallen angel, except of course for the most famous one ever.” Peter said.

Peter kneeled down and rubbed his fingers across the engraved letters of Emmerich Leeward’s name. “These are old.” 

Ellis swore he heard something growl and searched the darkness for the animal.

Peter leaned closer to the plaque. “There is lichen, but no dust or dirt.”

“There aren’t any houses around here, are there?” Moriah asked.

“No.” Ellis said warily. “Not unless we walked all the way to Thurmont.”

“We haven’t been walking long enough.” Peter said with a grunt as he stood up.

Ellis gazed intently into the shadows where the inferi stood grinning behind the statues of the blindfolded angels. “Hello?” They said in a calm, deliberate tone.

“Who are you talking to?” Moriah asked.

“Me, poor child.” A gravelly voice said from the shadows, as if they were down a long hall from them. The inferi’s teeth gleamed in the moon's light.

Peter screamed and stumbled backwards, falling hard onto the ground.

The specter laughed.

Moriah stepped between it and Ellis, then said, “What do you want?”

“First, to say that we aren’t catholic you silly fools. In fact, they would be as offended as I am by the comparison.”

“We didn’t mean to offend you.” Ellis squeaked.

The inferi tapped his long fingers on his chin. “Your kind never means to offend, and yet, you do with such ease.” The disdain in his voice soured the air like poison.

“What are you?” Peter demanded from the ground.

“I am one of the gods below, a di inferi, or don’t they teach you your Latin anymore?” The specter crawled up and crouched on the head of the statue.

“A devil?” Peter’s voice quivered.

The inferi laughed and his voice cracked like thunder. “No child. You are more of a demon or devil than I.”

“We’re goths.” Moriah said.

The inferi snapped his head around with a Cheshire Cat grinned, distorting his face. “Are you now? If only Alaric lived long enough to hear that. I’m not talking about your costumery or makeup, you silly little girl.”

“Don’t talk to her like that.” Ellis said, then cupped their hand over their mouth to stop from saying anything else.

“I will talk however I like.” 

The air cooled as the spirit spoke to where they could see their breath.

“I have to say, you have spirit. I didn’t expect that from any of you.”

The inferi leaped up from the central angelic figure and landed with one foot on each of the other two in a pose reminiscent of a rock star in a music video. “Welcome to the wild, exiled children of the lie.” He said, then laughed like he heard the funniest joke.

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Welcome to Blinded Angels

Enter the world of the Dragons of Night. Yes, dragons are real and have governed the night since the great shadow fell upon them at the end of the war with Nyx. Together with the Fae and many other magical creatures, they joined the Covenant with the Giants to expel those they saw as liars who sought only wealth and power from their midst, creating our world.

In Blinded Angels, we follow Ellis Nicks, a courageous and resilient nonbinary person. When I say courageous, they lived their best genderqueer life in the 90s, even though they didn’t have the language for it. I have chosen not to misgender them in the story even though that would have happened at the time.

Everything changes for Ellis, Moriah, and Peter during an innocent stroll through the autumnal woods of Maryland. A sudden twist of fate transports them to a mysterious land where the impossible becomes reality.

But this extraordinary realm harbors secrets, and the trio finds themselves embroiled in a web of darkness and intrigue. As they navigate their way through this treacherous landscape, Ellis and their friends must confront their own inner demons and unravel the enigmatic past that haunts them all. The journey they undertake is not just one of self-discovery, but also a battle against forces that threaten to tear their newfound world apart.

Blinded Angels series explores the depths of friendship, love, and identity in a world brimming with mystery and romance.

Join Ellis, Moriah, and Peter as they navigate the perilous path of self-discovery and face the shadows that lurk in both the realm of magic and their own souls. Uncover the secrets that threaten their very existence and prepare yourself for a breathtaking adventure you won't soon forget. The Blinded Angels series will transport you to a realm where fantasy and reality intertwine, leaving you captivated until the very last page. Are you ready to embark on this extraordinary journey?

Well, are you?

Chapters will come out on Thursdays. As the chapters of The Noble Sacrifice come out, I will be updating this post and it will serve as Table of Contents for the series.

See the World Building