The witches' kingdom - TOG series

Chapter 8 | Manon

I had witnessed countless sunrises, yet none could compare to the one that morning. Dorian and I had hardly slept through the night, watching the sun rise over what had been the battlefield from the borrowed bed we shared those days.

A part of me felt light, eager, ready for what was to come, but another part was utterly terrified of what might unfold. Reuniting the IronTeeth and Crochan clans wasn't going to be easy, especially without my Thirteen by my side. Deep down, even though it was hard to admit, the thought of being separated from Dorian, who had been my greatest support in recent months, was also quite agonizing.

After the intense night, we had avoided discussing how things would be after we returned to our respective realms. He was the King of Adarlan, and I was the Queen of the witches. Both of us were leaders of two of Erilea's most powerful and yet most shattered communities. The path ahead was anything but simple.

The troops were ready to march at the crack of dawn, wyverns saddled up. I appreciated seeing my people ready to fight for what lay ahead. You could see in their faces the yearning to return home after centuries of exile. With a divided and antagonistic population for years, it had been a miracle that they had supported each other during the battle. I genuinely hoped that this camaraderie would persist upon their return, but I knew that the challenges of rebuilding would be even greater.

They had to start from scratch, not just in the obvious ways, but also in the bonds that held them together. During the last council meeting, I had officially named the three new witches in charge: Glennis, Katharyn, and Petrah Blueblood.
Their first decision as the new council had been easier than I expected. The capital of the witch realm needed a renaming to mark the start of a new era.

The land surrounding the city center would be called Wyverntown, and the central area where the heart of Waster governance would stand would be named Witches' Hill. We believed that there was nothing more feared than a wyvern, especially now that the Valg threat had disappeared. We thought that the name alone would discourage anyone from venturing there for wrongdoing. But best of all, that vast and feared plain would now be crowned by the capital of equally fearsome creatures: the witches.

Just as the private witches' meeting was ending, someone knocked on the room's door.

"I hope it's important," Glennis called from within.

The door swung open, and a male Fae of almost two meters walked in, dressed more elegantly than we had grown accustomed to during the past week.

"I heard you were leaving, and I wanted to bid you farewell and thank you once again," Fernys said, looking at me.

"Well, it seems the Fae are more sentimental than I understood," I quipped, looking at Fernys amused. I didn't know why, but whenever I saw him, I felt something akin to friendship, and I knew I could trust him.

"Well, I might miss having a secret breakfast companion at 5 in the morning," he said after a deep chuckle.

I couldn't help but notice how my three witches in charge looked at Fernys, puzzled. When he noticed, he continued:

"I also wanted to offer my assistance in rebuilding your realm," he said, looking down. "I know you don't need help, but I thought maybe my magic could expedite things."

"Perhaps your strong arms and that muscular back of yours wouldn't hurt either," Petra chimed in cheekily from the back.

I couldn't believe Petra's audacity. She had always appeared so sweet and discreet. Maybe she, too, was seeking a new identity, but I only hoped she wouldn't pursue it near Fernys.

The Fae laughed again, deeply, and said, "Consider it done. Both my magic and my incredible arms and back are at your disposal. Perhaps a change of scenery for a few months would do me good and keep me entertained."