Curse of Ash

Chapter 6

Everything was vibrant, peaceful. And yet, Reeves's heart was a threatening hammer in his chest.

The Lebree siblings sat in a gorgeous study that spanned twice, maybe three times that of their father's. On one of the four walls stood floor to ceiling bookshelves, stuffed with hundreds of books and scrolls. On the opposite wall hung various paintings and maps. The back held windows to the outside world, one open to let in a soothing and refreshing breeze, and a nice view of the open expanse of the estate.

Jenner lounged on the couch by the wall of paintings, staring behind him at a large map of a land unrecognizable, fingers drumming on the arm of the leather seat. Alyvia was plucking books from the shelves one by one to flip through before gently filing them back where they belonged. And Reeves stared out the window, a far off look like a mask occupying his features.

They were in a different part of the estate, now with a different view. From the bedroom Alyvia woke up in, the view was of hills rolling into a forest, scattered trees right by the balcony as well, and distance houses spotting the horizon. Now Reeves could see more of the land in which the estate sat: a large courtyard spread into a garden with a beautiful and large tree standing in the middle. The leaves were different from any he's ever seen though, even the ones by Alyvia's bedroom. These were different warm shades, like when the seasons change from summer to autumn: reds, oranges, yellows, but no greens or browns. As if the whole tree were sitting between life and death, each leaf slowly wishing to fall to the ground. Even the bark seemed to gleam a golden-brown under the sun.

He couldn't believe it.

Of course, everyone has heard tell-tale of the fae lands. But what is written in human's history books, told by their elders, are dark and dangerous and deadly stories. That was all children south of the wall were taught of the fae; that they are monstrous creations from the gods that keep humans as toys to eventually devour. Much like any beast, they too are ravenous with hunger that only humans can satiate.

That's what Edvard Lebree quoted anyways.

Alyvia always believed there had to be good to the fae. Like her, some humans still believed such a thing as well. But that small hope was not enough to convince a whole race to make peace with their forgotten enemy.

But if the fae lands were supposed to hold the most vile of creatures, why was everything so illuminatingly beautiful?

Reeves had a thought back to when he was a child. He had found a snake in the backyard, and while snakes were normal to find here and there, this one was different. The scales glimmered in the sun, each a brighter shade of orange than the last. A choppy pattern of reds and yellows spiraled down the center of its back. When Reeves bent to examine it further, his mother came crashing towards him, skirts flying as the snake suddenly flung itself at the boy. A small scream left his mouth, but his mother was there, sword slicing cleanly through the snake's body. It fell to the grass with a soft thud.

"Don't ever touch something bright and vibrant, Evie," his mother had practically pleaded, sword forgotten in the grass as she held her son in her arms. "Sometimes the things that are the most beautiful, are the most dangerous. With one little touch, one nip—" she mimicked a tiny pinch to his cheek, "—you'd be dead from poison in a matter of minutes."

His mother was the one to teach him the dangers of the universe. But she was also the one who told him stories of glittering waters, rose smelling winds, and the most interesting beings you could possibly meet.

Maybe the fae and their lands are like that snake: luringly gorgeous but hiding true venom inside.

Now these beautiful lands and its inhabitants had nothing standing between them and his home.