Chapter One Hundred and Two: Entropy
For the longest time, Sinmir could only stare blankly.
He had a hard time processing what he'd just been told.
"Heat?" he eventually asked, trying to wrap his head around it. "Hold back a moment... you mean, that kind of heat? Like an animal?"
Amelia flushed scarlet, then lowered her head and fidgeted before giving a jerky nod.
"I-it happens every month, right before my... erm... regular cycle," she stammered. "If I'm around anyone male, I sometimes lose control of myself. Just like I did earlier."
"Isn't such a scenario dangerous?"
"Only if I don't keep reign on myself. I'm afraid you simply caught me off guard at precisely the wrong moment."
The two of them fell quiet and an awkward silence ensued, but eventually Sinmir shook his head and stood up, holding out his hand to her. She glanced at it, then raised her eyes to his face, looking thoroughly confused and more than a little uncertain.
"Your secret is safe with me," he murmured, giving her his most reassuring expression. "How long does this... phase... of yours usually last?"
"Two days," she admitted. "It lasts two days, then I'm in the safe zone."
"And when did it start?"
Amelia looked extremely uncomfortable.
"Earlier this evening..." she mumbled. "It began while I was making tea."
"Well," Sinmir soothed, smiling a little tensely, "from this point on, don't worry about losing control of yourself. Now that I know, I'll keep a careful eye on you, and if you need time to yourself at any point within the next two days, I'll cover for you if anyone asks questions."
She blinked, looking genuinely surprised for a moment, then took the hand he was offering her and with a great tug, Sinmir pulled her upright.
She didn't let go.
Instead, she moved closer and wrapped her arms around him, giving him a very tight embrace.
"Thank you," she said softly. "Both for promising to keep my secret, and also offering to keep me safe from harm. You have no idea how relieved your words have made me, but I must also ask you to forgive me in advance... because I am still going to hide it from everyone."
"Bah, no trouble," he chuckled, setting a hand on her head and ruffling her hair. "Everyone has a secret or two. It's my job as a prince to make sure the people around me are well taken care of and everything is running smoothly. Without order of some sort, there will always be chaos."
She let out a sigh, then squeezed a little tighter.
"We are not comparable to a country," she chided, "but I understand the point you are trying to make, so I will let that comment slide."
Just as he was about to suggest they go inside, a voice split the air.
"Oh, Sinmir!" Vrael called. "Have you seen Amelia?"
"Aye, I have," he bellowed back. "What do you need her for?"
"Well, I was reading this book on herbs, and I found one that I..."
Vrael's voice unexpectedly died, and when he didn't speak for a good thirty seconds, Sinmir turned and glanced over his shoulder.
Vrael was looking at the arms wrapped around his middle, brown eyes wide.
For several moments he just stood there, looking confused, but when Amelia finally stepped away and straightened her hair, his ears jerked downward.
Sinmir frowned when the halfling took a step back.
"Are you all right?" he called, turning around completely. "If you wanted to chat with her, she's right here."
Vrael turned his head and their eyes met, but Sinmir didn't understand the look he was being given, couldn't comprehend the expression on Vrael's face, for it reminded him of a puppy that had once been kicked by someone for no reason.
Then that expression vanished and he smiled, lifting a shaky hand.
"It... it's nothing," he stammered, letting lose a shrill laugh as he backed away. "You two are obviously in the middle of something, so... I'll head back inside now."
Sinmir frowned when he turned and all but bolted out of sight, fists pumping, and Amelia, similarly, looked very confused.
"That was strange," she noted, unbraiding her hair and letting it hang loosely around her. "He's normally very straightforward and wouldn't care if we were in the middle of something, right? He's demonstrated that plenty of times before... I wonder if something was wrong?"
Sinmir didn't answer her.
"Return to the lodge," he commanded. "I'll be inside soon."
"Eh?"
"Just do it."
Feeling cold deep within his belly, he wordlessly trotted after Vrael, trying to puzzle together the many reasons he could have had a reaction like that, but there was only one that seemed plausible.
Only one that made sense.
Damn these kids and their drama, he silently muttered, looking around for the halfling. Where did he go?
It took him a little while to find out where Vrael had gone.
He knew in his gut that the kid hadn't headed back inside, but admittedly, he was a little surprised to find him leaning against a tree with a fist clenched against his chest.
"Oi," Sinmir softly called, watching with a grim feeling as his whole body jerked. "Talk to me. What was all that about?"
Vrael didn't meet his eyes.
"I don't know."
"Come now, you know you can trust me. Talk."
"Sinmir, I really don't know," Vrael snapped, then his ears wilted and his face fell. "I've never felt like that before."
"Like what?"
"Angry and hurt at people for no good reason," he mumbled. "When I saw you embracing Amelia, I... I just don't know."
Sinmir heaved a great sigh and slapped his face with his palm.
Looks my suspicions were correct, he grumbled mentally, but now, what to do?
There were many things he could have done, but he decided to go with what his heart wanted most.
Swaggering forward, he gripped Vrael's arm and jerked him into a warm, powerful hug. The gesture obviously took the kid off guard, but Sinmir could feel him relax.
He tried for the longest time to put his heart into words.
"Look, Lad... I don't know what would have given you cause to look at me the way you did earlier," he muttered, "but I want you to know that I would never, ever hurt you."
"Really?"
"Of course. I've grown very fond of you and Xaphile. The last thing I want to do is drive either of you away from me."
Vrael sighed, finally returning the hug.
"I'm sorry for being an idiot," he mumbled. "I don't understand what came over me ealier."
Gods, Sinmir mentally sighed. This might be easier to accept if he hears it from the mouth of someone closer to his own age.
"I think perhaps," he said aloud, rubbing the boy's back, "you should talk to Phil about your feelings. Perhaps he can help you figure them out."
Vrael stiffened.
"Why would you think that?"
"If it eases your distress to know, I have reason to believe that he might understand what you can't figure out."
"You do? Why?"
So Vrael is wholly ignorant of his own feelings? Sinmir wondered, frowning for a moment. Well, he and Amelia may be blind to them, but I... I am not.
And yet, even though he wasn't blind, he was smart enough not to speak of it openly, as blossoms that opened too soon had a chance of falling victim to a late frost.
He had hope, though.
He would not have advised Vrael to talk with Xaphile were he not sure, but some element of uncertainty always remained.
He knew from experience that while a love that had been declared already would withstand everything, one that had not been acknowledged by those involved might wither and die if exposed to the meddling of others too early. Vrael, whether he realized it or not, had begun to fancy Amelia if his reaction to seeing her in the arms of another man was any clue.
"I think he would know because his wit is as sharp as a blade," Sinmir told him, turning slightly when a flash of movement caught his attention. He straightened when he saw Amelia approaching. "Now, you said you needed to chat with the little lass. What was it about?"
"An herb that's mislisted in one of her books," Vrael mumbled. "I wanted to let her know that it isn't a healing herb, but a poison."
She froze, obviously alarmed by that.
"One of the herbs in my plant encyclopedia was mislisted?"
"Yes. The Etherion Snow Berry. During spring, they cover the Syl forest, but they're extremely deadly."
Her eyes widened in shock.
"Are you absolutely certain?"
"Yes. Windal ate one when he was three and would have died had our mother not forced a remedy down his throat."
Amelia was pensive.
"It seems I will have to correct the content of the book, "she muttered. "I will meet both of you inside."
Sinmir blinked when she hurried off, then finally let go of Vrael and set a hand on his shoulder.
"Well, then," he grunted, smiling when the boy looked up at him, "let's head inside ourselves. The hour is late, and we should be resting."
"Indeed," Vrael murmured, then looked at him squarely. "Sinmir... thank you."
A smile slid across his face and he roughly mussed up the boy's silver hair.
"Don't thank me. I am only doing what is right," he chuckled, walking past him and heading towards the lodge. He figured everything had been settled, which was a relief since he was still completely drunk and was well aware of it.
When he opened the door to go inside he bumped into Amelia since she was standing stock still, staring at something in the room.
He blearily squinted over her head to see what the holdup was.
His heart promptly melted.
Gus was already asleep and snoring softly on the farthest edge of the furs, but Xaphile and Ella were far more interesting to look at.
The two of them had initially lain down with their backs facing each other, but in sleep they'd rolled over and Xaphile was now sleep cuddling Ella like a giant pillow, arms and legs entangled within her own, and she had somehow weaved her limbs through his to remain comfortable despite being caught in an awkward-looking pretzel.
The sight was adorable.
Sinmir planted a hand on his hip and smirked, shaking his head.
"Looks like he's at it again," he chuckled, making Amelia glance up at him in confusion. "He has done that to me in the night as well. I believe it to be a sleep habit."
"Is that so?"
"Indeed," he confirmed, then gently pushed her aside and made his way over to them. For the longest time, he just stood there looking down at the sleeping duo. "I'm a bit surprised Ella can sleep comfortably like that, though."
A snort of a laugh came from behind.
"He's done that to me before, too," Vrael quietly giggled. "His tail constantly wraps around my limbs during the night."
"We can discuss this sort of thing later," Amelia murmured. "Let's get to sleep."
Sinmir wordlessly bent down and gently grabbed Xaphile's long tail, planning on moving it so they could lie down, but like the snap of a whip, the furry limb swung up and curled around his arm, coming to rest across his shoulders. He blinked when the furry tip twitched back and forth against his cheek.
Not long after, a muffled, animalistic growling noise began to fill the air.
Amelia didn't look fazed, but Vrael nearly jumped out of his skin.
"Did you wake him?" he hissed, looking slightly fearful. "Why is he growling like that?"
"That's not a growl," Sinmir soothed, heart warming immensely. "He's purring. Like a big, overgrown feline."
Amelia paused.
"He'd need to be happy to do that," she noted. "Primordial Fae only purr when they feel safe."
"Look at where he is," Sinmir shot back. "He's in the arms of someone who loves him, and all of us here are giving him the warmth and care he deserves. The wounds in his heart are healing because we have been here to mend them. By all rights, I think he is happier."
As she spoke, he carefully settled down beside Xaphile and made himself comfortable, stroking the tail encircling his arm and neck once he was situated and beaming when the noise coming from Xaphile's throat came a bit more strongly.
Amelia and Vrael joined him not long after, and he listened to their shuffling and sighing for what felt like hours, but they fell asleep long before he did since he couldn't shut his eyes. Getting drunk allowed him to think properly under stress, which was a rather ironic conundrum since it also inhibited his thought process.
All he could do was stare at the ceiling, alone with his thoughts.
He knew deep down that if he'd wanted, he could have returned to Adanac at any given time, but what he wanted the most right then was to keep the hapless group of adolescents he'd found safe from any and all harm.
He had a feeling that this journey they were taking was going to twist and turn dangerously since things in Aerika were, after all, in a dire political state, and the last thing they needed was for the crazy king and his court of corrupted nobles to get involved.
No, they needed him.
Without him, they had no proper adult guidance and nobody to protect them from harm should it come after them.
Gus was a hunter, not a fighter, and even though the increasingly taciturn bloke was ten years his senior, he'd already done a fine job of demonstrating that he lacked the wit to understand the struggles of those around him, and he didn't even seem all that interested in trying to.
Sinmir let out a sigh and closed his eyes, listening to Vrael's sleep breathing and Phil's purring, and truthfully, the sound coming from his left was soothing in a way that couldn't be described.
After a time, Sinmir rolled over on his side and lifted his hand, gently brushing his knuckles against the soft black plumage of Xaphile's wings. They were like silk against his weathered skin.
"We'll find your brother," Sinmir murmured. "You have my word."
Just like that... the purring filling the air fell silent and Sinmir shifted when Xaphile shivered slightly.
"P.... ak..."
The mumble was so quiet that he barely heard it.
Frowning, he leaned in closer, trying to hear better.
"Pa... pka..."
Papka.
That word.
Sinmir didn't know what it meant, but he'd seen the expression on Xaphile's face the few times he'd said it, and he didn't like it. When Xaphile shivered again and his breath quickened a little, almost as if he were starting to have a nightmare, Sinmir unthinkingly set a hand on his head and tenderly stroked his hair, rubbing him between the horns.
"You're safe," he whispered, leaning close to the boy's long hear. "Do not fret. Nothing can harm you while we are here, so sleep in peace. I am guarding you and all that you care for."
Whether it was because of the physical contact or the words that had been spoken, Sinmir didn't know, but Xaphile's shivers slowly began to subside and he eventually let out a sigh.
Once his breathing had calmed back down, Sinmir rolled over and closed his own eyes.
It had been a long day, and tomorrow would most certainly be just as long, but he would face it with a smile.
I look forward to teaching Phil about real swordplay, he silently mused. Perhaps someday, years from now, we'll all be able to look back at this time in good favor.
Just as he resigned himself to sleep, the sound of the front door opening met his ears and moonlight drifted into the room with a warm, humid breeze.
He didn't perceive this as strange until he remembered everyone was already fast asleep, but when it clicked, Sinmir immediately bolted into an upright position, staring at the entrance with narrowed eyes. A bare foot stepped into view from outside, then another, moving tentatively.
He could only stare in awe.
A beautiful woman wearing sheer white fabric was being illuminated by the moonlight, long platinum hair drifting weightlessly on the breeze. Her gown flowed around her as if she were underwater, and every move she made, from her footsteps to the way she tilted her head with a smile of greeting, had him feeling enchanted.
He only saw her long white tail and sharp ears at the last second.
He recognized this woman.
She was the one who'd intervened when Vordt had attacked Xaphile, the one who'd known he'd been hiding behind a tree with Ella's blades held at the ready.
The one who'd saved the two of them.
"Forgive my intrusion," Zelphira said in a voice that made his spine tingle. "I know the hour is late."
Sinmir snapped back to reality.
"Why have you come?" he questioned. "Everyone is already asleep, including Xaphile. You shouldn't disturb him."
Her pale blue eyes landed on the sleeping adolescents on either side of him, but softened when she saw Xaphile cuddling Ella.
A smile touched her lips, then she returned her attention to Sinmir.
"I have come here to converse with you and you alone," she said softly, holding out a pale hand. "I have many things to tell you."
He raised an eyebrow, but made no move to stand up.
"Such as?"
Zelphira wore patience and serenity like a mantle.
"When Xaphile first arrived on this world, it seemed all hope was lost," she told him. "Yet now, spring has come, and with it, new hope. Your growing adoration for my nephew marks the beginning of happier times."
"You say that with conviction," he warily noted. "Why?"
Zelphira only smiled, tilting her head. She was fascinating. The way her hair gleamed in the moonlight was angelic.
"Why do you think?"
He smiled, then let his eyes roam across her figure.
"Asking a drunk man about his opinion isn't the wisest thing to do," he grunted. "Particularly when you show up dressed in such sheer silks. Mortal eyes have a tendency to wander."
She smirked, then.
"Is that your way of suggesting you have had too much wine and should go to bed?"
"If you choose to understand it that way."
"Well. Then I shall choose to do so. But you cannot rest just yet. Will you walk with me?"
When she held her hand out again, Sinmir sighed, then stood up.
"If I must."
When he walked outside for the second time that night, the stars were just as brilliant as before, but the air was warmer, more humid. He took a deep breath, smelling the scent of an oncoming rain, and relaxed, since everything about this little island was refreshing to him.
He kept his eyes on the sky until they made it to the copse of trees.
When he could no longer see the stars above, he stopped walking and lowered his gaze.
"Now, why have you come?"
Zelphira turned, catching him with her eyes.
They shone and twinkled like icy starshine.
"I have come to tell you bits and pieces of the future," she said in a breathless tone, "because you will play a big part and you must know what is going to happen."
Sinmir stiffened.
"Why must I know of events that have not even taken place?"
"Because you are the only one who's incapable of changing anything major aside from one situation, even if you try."
"I have no idea what you are talking about."
"You will," she whispered. "First... my brother, Vordt. Your intense dislike of him is understandable, but I would ask that you find it in yourself to forgive him for his transgressions. He and Xaphile are more alike with their pain than you might think."
"He tried to kill his own flesh and blood," Sinmir growled. "Such a thing is unforgivable."
"For Xaphile's sake," Zelphira said, walking towards him and gently touching his arm. "Please, forgive him. My brother needs Xaphile and Adariel in his life... and they need him, as well."
He raised an eyebrow.
"Why does me forgiving him have anything to do with Vordt being present in Xaphile's life?"
Zelphira's eyes visibly saddened.
"My nephew," she whispered, mouth trembling slightly with sorrow, "he trusts you and the countess more than he trusts us because of what happened."
"How is that relevant?"
"If you do not find it in yourself to forgive him... tomorrow, the future will change and he will leave Xaphile behind for good, permanently damaging things between them forever."
Sinmir felt his heart sink.
"Are you saying that it is I who must do the forgiving?" he asked, brow furrowing. "Truly?"
"I can say no more," she sighed, then gave him a look. "There is another topic at hand that I must address. Xaphile's hair. Have you noticed him doing anything to it?"
"What should I have noticed?" he snorted. "You have lost me."
"It is easy to miss, I admit, since all fae are very meticulous with their grooming," Zelphira admitted, "but has he been combing his hair or touching it more often than necessary?"
"You mean, like, at all?" Because it was always immaculate. "It's not as if it needs any grooming."
"Our hair does not need much care, but it needs some. But, that is not it."
"Oh?"
Zelphira gave him a look.
"Watch him," she said. "When the time comes and you notice him preening, even if its unconsciously, speak to my brother about it. If all goes as it should, you may be on better relations with him."
"I highly doubt that," Sinmir muttered between almost closed teeth. "He is horrid."
"Vordt is what Xaphile might have become had things gone differently," Zelphira reflected. "While my brother might not understand Xaphile as well as he should, he would never let him feel such... such scorn. Not again. Not after realizing what he almost did."
Had he not seen the cruelty in the faery's face that day, he might have been able to believe her.
"I am not my father's son," Sinmir finally said, making her blink. "I am, in truth, his nephew. My parents perished in a carriage accident when I was but a babe, and although my Lord Uncle genuinely hated my father for reasons unknown to me... he took me in."
"Must you compare?"
"Of course! No matter how you look at it, families should never harm one of their own," Sinmir snarled. "The King of Adanac has oft treated me like his own child. I am not my father's son. The man who fathered me is not the one who sired me. But he is family nonetheless."
Zelphira's eyes shimmered.
"What," she whispered, "are you trying to convey to me?"
"Is it really so hard for you to fathom?" Sinmir stonily inquired, looking at her with momentary condescension. "Xaphile should not have been beaten and harmed to the verge of death for a mistake that wasn't his. The fact that Vordt took his rage out on his brother's child was wrong... there was no excuse, nothing that would warrant the extent of the damage he wrought."
"He feared Xaphile to be human, and--"
"I am human," he countered, watching as she shut her mouth, "and I have never once, in my entire life, done anything worthy of what Vordt did to Xaphile. Being human is not an excuse to shed blood. If he could kill his nephew over a reason so small, he is not to be trusted."
"But, you do not understand! He is--"
"You're right! I don't understand! Not one wit!" Sinmir snapped, cutting her off again. "That he would treat his own flesh and blood in such a way disgusts me! Xaphile is a strange lad, but he has much merit, and there is absolutely nothing about him that might make it hard to love him!"
She digested his words.
"Vordt has his own wounds," she said softly. "Do not condemn him until you've gotten to know him."
"I don't want to know him. Not after I watched him try to slay Xaphile over something so stupid."
The words were so harsh that she flinched.
"Forsake your desires for Xaphile's sake," Zelphira murmured. "It is as you say. Families should not fight, but they should not be broken, either. And if you condemn him... ours will shatter forever. Your love for my nephew is fortunate, but it is also because of how much you care that your opinion holds such a sway over him."
"That is true," Sinmir growled; he ground his teeth, then gave in. "Fine. What you say rings true to my ears. I know not what this is all about, but I will heed your request."
The moment he said it, her face relaxed and tears of relief filled her eyes, running down her face with abandon. Sinmir swallowed when she turned completely around, hugging herself, since he hadn't been expecting her to show him such an unguarded expression.
"All I wish for," she said in a voice that sounded strangely unfettered, "is the happiness of my family. They cannot become truly joyful to be alive on their own power, and I cannot break down the walls they've built. You and those other mortals are strong enough and close enough to do what I cannot."
Her hair drifted in the wind, and her gown billowed around her body.
It was so sheer that he could see right through it, to her skin.
Sinmir felt heat flooding through him.
He knew it was wrong, but the thoughts going through his mind had taken a turn.
Not that anyone could blame him, really... she had a figure that would turn any man's head.
After a time, however, he managed to force back his inner desires and kept a firm hold on his senses, if only because the woman before him gave off a much different aura than the hungry-eyed faerie girl who had approached him on the night of the festivities.
He wasn't one to turn down a romp in the sheets, for any reason, but he always made his feelings very clear before and after: anything that might happen between him and a woman was purely physical, with no strings attached.
He wasn't looking for love.
In that regard, he understood Xaphile probably more than anyone else.
But for whatever reason... in that moment, something about Zelphira drew him in. Perhaps it was her sincerity. Perhaps it was the way her eyes conveyed more than any of her words. Perhaps it was because she was so strong, but so vulnerable at the same time.
He stepped forward until his chest was against her back, but the moment he put his hands on her shoulders, her lowered head snapped up and her eyes went wide. She didn't move, still as a statue, so he turned her around with the softest of tugs.
She kept her eyes on the ground until he set a finger beneath her chin and tilted her head back to force her into meeting his eyes. Those crystal blue irises glimmered, reflecting the stars above like twin mirrors and giving off the strange illusion that they were literally sparkling.
"Tell me the truth," Sinmir quietly commanded. "You give off the air of a woman who's never been... loved. Why is this?"
She blinked, trying to make sense of the inflection on his words, but when she realized the meaning, her eyes momentarily went blank. She seemed surprised by the turn the conversation had taken, but she refused to break eye contact, even though her gaze was much cooler.
"That is because I have not," she said in a soft tone. "I have never been tamed by any Vadil."
He frowned intensely.
The society of the eastern Fae was largely based on skin-deep flings... nearly every female he'd seen had given him the impression that they had a great deal of experience. If he took in the fact that these creatures were ageless beings... the fact that Zelphira was still a maiden was odd.
"Why?" he asked, narrowing his eyes. "Is it because of your position? Are you not allowed the same freedom as those around you? Or is it something else?"
"I made a promise to one I hold most dear," she tenderly told him, eyes shimmering. "Until he becomes happy and finally moves forward, I will remain by his side so he will not be alone."
Sinmir felt his face flush under the strength of her stare.
"You could not know," she added, "but I am long past the age at which my kind fill these woods with their passion."
Well. That was familiar ground.
"You sure don't look like it."
Zelphira laughed, just like he had hoped.
"Yet I am," she said, smiling a little bit easier. "Such yearnings were... only natural for me when I was young, but I am not young any longer, and because I chose to remain aloof for so many centuries, I am also at a great disadvantage. Most of the eligible Vadilie in the Faust clan do not see me as a potential lover any longer."
"Have you not spoken with your people of this?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "I'm sure that anyone would jump at the chance if you made it clear."
She shook her head, long hair sliding around her long ears.
"It is not that simple," she said, looking up at him with a sad smile. "I am not versed in the ways of our young Efamilie... and I have no family near me whom I might ask for advice."
"From what I've heard, advice of that sort comes timely enough before the wedding night."
Again she laughed. "You tease me. You know well that is not what I meant."
"What did you mean, then?"
Zelphira shook her head.
"I know not how to... to court, perhaps, you might call it? And I am unlike others, as... I do not feel I am as comely as others within my clan. Females like Krishna, with their flaxen hair and sun-kissed skin, are far more beautiful than females such as myself... they are the more sought after by males looking for a partner or true mate."
Sinmir could only stare at her, shocked.
She's insecure? he silently scoffed, blinking rapidly in amusement. A woman like her? She's the fairest female primordial sprite that I've seen so far, and she is also the ruler of the eastern forests, the queen of the sky! What a farce!
He had to bite back a laugh.
Judging by her expression, she noticed his twitching face.
"This amuses you?"
He shrugged.
"Aye. Mind, I am not a faery, but... well, I see no reason for you to feel out of place, particularly since I was recently informed that fae like beautiful hair."
"That is so."
"Well, in that department, no one could find you lacking."
A shy smile appeared on her face.
"That is good to know, but, while I do not know what males of my race desire, I am rather sure that the lack of pallor in my appearance..."
"Don't fret about it," Sinmir said simply, giving her a long look. "For human men, the fairer complexion is more often sought after. I think your coloring makes you look very comely."
She stared at him.
"Thank you," she said, lifting a hand and caressing his cheek. "You try to soothe my worries when they are not even your own. You are a good man.
"You are a good woman," he muttered, pulling back and clearing his head. "Tell me... is it truly a crime among your people to mark and mate a human?"
Zelphira blinked.
"Yes, but that does not stop our kind from doing what their hearts tell them to," she softly admitted. "There are many fae who've mated with humans, elves, orcs, and even halflings."
Sinmir felt shocked by that.
"Really?"
"Yes."
"Then why is it a crime?"
"Because of a terrible event that took place long ago," Zelphira said. "Being marked by a faerie can grant a mortal eternal life. Whether that mark is familial or romantic matters not. Long ago, an orc took advantage of the power bestowed through the mark and became tyrannical."
Sinmir thought about that.
"How many marks can a faerie give?" he eventually asked, making her blink yet again.
"There are three types," she informed him. "The first is the mark of a permanent mate, and it is sealed through a kiss. However, certain feelings must be present in both parties for the binding magic to appear. It is more for show than practical use, a formal marriage of sorts."
"And the other two?"
"The second is the deeper, soul binding connection between lovers," she told him. "A bite to the neck that can last forever if one wishes for it. The third mark, on the other hand, binds families and loved ones together as one. It is also given through a bite, but unlike the mark of a lover, anyone can be given any number of familial marks."
Sinmir listened with rapt attention, and nodded slowly.
"Truthfully," he quietly began, "I am not sure what I want to do as of right now. Thinking ahead to the far future worries me."
"What is it that troubles you?"
"If Phil truly is Immortal," Sinmir grunted, "it means that if he chooses not to mark us, he'll have to watch us grow older while he stays young. Its troubling."
Zelphira's eyes went from serene to panicked all at once.
"Never, ever mention that to him," she whispered. "It's important that you let him realize it on his own!"
Sinmir chuckled involuntarily.
"I didn't plan on it. My thoughts are my own."
"Good."
Sinmir took the opportunity to step away from her.
"Is that all there is?" he asked, giving her a glance. "Or do you have more you wish to say? The hour grows late and I'm afraid I'm exhausted."
"There is nothing," she murmured, glancing at the moon; then she looked at him again, a little uncertain. "If I may... would you allow me to reside with my nephew tonight?"
Sinmir scowled.
"Let's go," he commanded, walking towards the lodge. "As if you even needed to ask."
Her smile was radiant.
Nimbly dancing across the island, she followed him indoors and watched as he carefully flopped back down beside Xaphile.
"I will be gone before you wake," she told him. "I simply wish to be nearer to him this night. Too long have I been bound by my duties... I have had no time to cherish him."
"Do as you like," Sinmir grunted, closing his eyes. "Just do not wake him. He has been through the nine fires these last few weeks and deserves all the sleep he can get."
He heard her settling down near Xaphile's head. And he cracked an eyelid to see her tenderly stroking his hair.
She really cares for him, he realized, feeling a bit lighter. At least someone in his family does.
That was the last conscious thought he had before sleep found him.