Faelwen
The afternoon sun had slipped behind the trees, its golden farewell fading into shadow. A chorus of birds rang their twilight song, and tiny woodland creatures woke up, rustling through the underbrush. It was the fourteenth of the Twelfth Moon which meant autumn was on its way. The leaves had begun their slow burn into gold and crimson. A gentle chill threaded through the forest, a welcome contrast to the blistering heat we’d endured in the scorched wastes around Zan’kareth.
We had been wandering the ancient woodlands since dawn, our eyes scanning for signs of the ancient hatching grounds.
“The problem is, we don’t even know what we’re looking for,” Spook muttered, swatting at a firefly and glaring up at the canopy. “This forest is endless. How are we supposed to find something if we don’t even know what it looks like?”
“Artemis is following a scent, something faint, but familiar. And Ash and I are feeling for disturbances in the Weave,” I said, my fingers lightly trailing along the air, seeking the shimmer of unseen threads.
“Right. Trust the necromancer,” he mumbled darkly under his breath.
“Hey!” I snapped, sharp as a whip. He turned his head and raised his hands in surrender before walking straight into a thick spiderweb stretched between two trees. A strangled cry escaped him, followed by frantic flailing as he tried to dislodge the sticky strands from his face and clothes. “Get it off! Gods, get it off!”
Laughter burst from my chest, uncontrollable and bright. “Well there’s nothing left of the dark, mysterious rogue I once met in a tavern,” I teased, reaching out to flick the webbing from his shoulder. In the blink of an eye, Spook swept my legs from beneath me. I gasped as my back hit the forest floor, leaves crunching beneath my cloak. He pinned me with his weight, a blade cool against my throat, and that rare look in his eyes. Dark, wicked, and dancing with mischief. The same look he gave me when we first met. “Say that again, little fox. I dare you,” he murmured.
Heat rushed to my cheeks. My body betrayed me, heart thundering under his touch. “Get off,” I hissed through clenched teeth, pushing against him, half-laughing, half-panicking at the nearness. He resisted with theatrical effort, grinning.
“Stop fooling around, you two!” Ash’s voice sliced through the moment like a dagger.
“She started it,” Spook said innocently as he rolled off me, pointing accusingly.
“I don’t care who started it. I’m talking to both of you,” Ash snapped. “Now move your asses.”
I scrambled up, brushing damp leaves and soil from my cloak, willing my heartbeat to slow.
“I think Artemis has found something!” Elora’s voice rang out, a welcome interruption that broke the tension like sunlight through the gathering storm.
Relieved, I smiled…just a little.
“You think this is funny, darling?”
Ash’s voice cut through me, cold and harsh. My chest tightened. I looked at him, and there it was again: those storm-tossed eyes, shadowed with a hint of jealousy. My smile withered.
“I wasn’t…”
“Don’t Faelwen.”
The way he said my name… I had never heard it like that before. It wasn’t a scold, it wasn’t teasing. It sounded hurt.
“Ash?” I reached for him, but he turned away, jaw clenched hard enough to crack stone.
“I belong with you,” I whispered, willing the words to calm the restless beat of his heart. But instead of softening, he bristled.
“Do you? Because I see the way your body responds to him.”
“Ash…”
“Don’t ‘Ash’ me!” His voice snapped sharp enough to make me flinch. “I told you once; remember who you belong to. And then you do it again. Teasing him like that.”
“I didn’t intend to!” My own voice rose, heat curling through my chest. He had it all wrong. I was just friends with Spook and I told him that when he found me on the rivers side back at the Fiend’s marshes.
“Well, it didn’t seem like you minded lying underneath him. And you now what?” He gave a sharp, bitter laugh. “I get it. There’s something… appealing about his scruffy, stray-dog charm. And yes, he’d die to protect you. But you’re…”
“It’s nothing like that!”
“LET ME FINISH!”
The sudden force of his voice froze me where I stood. My breath caught; my feet shuffled back a step on their own. I had never seen him this angry before. His eyes, dark and fierce, were like blades aimed straight at me. And for a heartbeat, I feared him. Enough to bite down on every word I wanted to spit back. Tears pricked behind my eyes, but I fought them, stubborn pride holding the dam in place.
“You’re forgetting something,” he said, his tone low but trembling with restrained fury. “Our souls are bound. For elves, that means forever. Even if your heart…” his voice broke. He turned from me, shoulders tight. “You hurt me with your behaviour, Faelwen. I don’t share what’s mine.”
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“I… I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice shaking before I could stop it. The guilt crashed over me in one suffocating wave, breaking the dam. Tears slid hot down my cheeks.
Wen.
Artemis’s voice brushed through my thoughts, steady and warm. It’s okay. Lovers fight.
I knew that was true, but gods, it still felt ugly. I wanted Ash to pull me close, to hold me until this ache between us vanished. Instead, he turned farther away.
“Please, darling…dry your tears. I can’t stand it when you cry. We’ll talk later.”
I swallowed a ragged breath.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you, my love. Please… let’s talk now.”
He shook his head, not looking back.
“No. I’m still angry. And if I speak now, I might say things I’ll regret.”
And with that, he walked away, his shadow stretching long across the moss and stone, leaving the air colder than before.
? ? ?
Elora, Spook, Ash and Artemis were gathered at the edge of what first looked like a sinkhole, but as I drew closer, I understood. My breath caught in my throat, the ache of a minute ago pushed aside for a moment. Before us yawned a chasm cloaked in moss and mystery. Vines tumbled down its walls like green waterfalls, and far below, crystalline blue water trickled gently across ancient boulders. Suspended above the stream were pools, dozens of them, clinging to the rocky walls like nature’s chalices. Walkways broad enough for dragons stretched along the fissure’s sides, winding past the pools like forgotten roads. Bright mushrooms bloomed in clusters along the ledges, casting a soft, otherworldly glow. The air was rich with the scent of damp earth, stone, and old magic.
“It’s beautiful,” I breathed.
Around me, the others murmured in awe. Spook quickly made eye contact, noticed my wet eyes and frowned. I carefully shook my head giving him the “leave it be” look. He took a deep breath and clapped his hands. “Well, let’s go down.”
Without hesitation, he stepped to a vine, gave it a firm tug, and began climbing down. Elora followed, agile and surefooted as ever.
I was next. I grabbed the vine turning around so I could plant my foot against the side of the chasm and looked at Ash and Artemis. His anger seemed to have faded a little, his look currently slightly worried. I smiled at him and climbed down.
It was warmer here, down in the cradle of stone and silence, than it had been above, where the forest shivered in the early fingers of autumn. The air was thick, rich with scents of earth and time, and something deeper still. A lingering trace of old magic, slumbering just beneath the surface. I could feel it brushing against my skin, humming beneath my boots like a slow pulse. It was the same kind of magic I’d felt at Zan’kareth.
This had to be it.
The old hatching grounds.
Massive stalagmites rose like fangs from the earth, their glossy surfaces catching the low, golden light of the setting sun that filtered down from the cracks far above. Beneath our feet, the ground was blanketed with mushrooms. Plump and strange in every hue imaginable. A dusty, sweet aroma clung to them, almost cloying. Artemis sniffed at a mushroom and sneezed.
Spook had wandered ahead, disappearing around a bend in the stone corridor, his footsteps echoing faintly. Elora knelt near one of the pools, her fingers delicately trailing through the surface.
“The water is warm,” Elora said, surprise in her voice. Ash didn’t look up after he landed softly on the ground behind us.
“Dragon eggs need heat to incubate. I imagine the pools were designed for just that.”
He grabbed his notebook and started scribbling. I tried to lean closer, curious what he was recording, but he caught me with a sharp glance. I averted my eyes, pretending sudden interest in the mushrooms instead.
One caught my attention, a luminous blue-purple cap that glowed faintly in the dim light. It almost shimmered, like it breathed with the cave itself. I reached out, mesmerized.
“Don’t touch that,” Ash said calmly but firmly.
I glanced back up at him, widening my eyes in mock innocence.
“I wasn’t going to.”
He lifted one dark brow, unamused. The look said really? Without needing a word. Before I could retort, Elora’s voice rang out, laced with exasperation.
“Spook, don’t wander too far!”
He reappeared a moment later, sauntering back around the bend with a smug grin, and his entire face dusted in purple powder.
Elora groaned and pulled out a cloth from her bag, immediately scrubbing at his cheeks, softly mumbling curse words in elvish.
“What did you do?” I asked.
Spook gave me a wicked grin, eyes gleaming.
“Touched a mushroom.”
Ash exhaled slowly, like a father whose child got into trouble again.
“It was delicious, little fox,” Spook added, his voice low and teasing as he leaned closer. “You should try one.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You ate it?”
“It tasted like plums. Very nice. Very earthy. Probably excellent for digestion.”
Elora huffed and kept scrubbing.
“Don’t let the mushroom people hear you say that,” she muttered.
I looked down again at the strange mushroom I’d been drawn to earlier. Its cap gleamed like a polished amethyst, speckled with tiny flecks of silver. I knew I shouldn’t. I heard Ash’s voice in my head, his warning firm and clear, but curiosity had already won. And, gods help me, I should’ve known better than to trust Spook’s taste buds.
My fingers closed around the soft stem. A quiet snap and the cap released in a sudden puff of violet smoke, erupting into my face. I coughed violently, stumbling back and blinking through the haze. Spook howled with laughter, doubling over and clutching his stomach, nearly collapsing against a stalagmite.
Ash pinched the bridge of his nose, as if warding off a headache. I glared at Spook through teary eyes, purple powder clinging to my lashes and nose. I must have looked utterly ridiculous.
Elora gave me a long, withering look before tossing the napkin in Ash’s direction.
“I’m not cleaning up your girlfriend too,” she muttered as she walked away.
Ash turned to me, sighing as he slowly shook his head. The look he gave me was equal parts fond and resigned. My cheeks flushed again, burning under the powder now clinging to every inch of exposed skin. I wasn’t sure if he could see my blush through the violet haze, but I had a feeling he knew. Behind me, Spook was still laughing like it was the best joke he’d heard all year.
Ash’s hands were rougher than usual as he caught my chin. “You had to do as he said?” His voice was sharp, biting, as he forcefully grabbed my face and brushed the purple powder from my cheeks. My lips puckered into a ridiculous duckface under the pressure of his fingers. “You never listen to me, darling, when I warn you.”
I tried to mumble something back, but it came out garbled. When he finally released my cheeks, it was only to press a finger beneath my chin, tilting my head until I was forced to meet his gaze.
His eyes burned, not just with irritation, but with something heavier.
“First the spiderweb. Now this. And before that… that argument in Nymvalis.”
The mention caught me off guard.
“That was different…”
“No,” he cut in, voice low and dangerous. “It’s the same. You pull me close, then you let him that close as well. And maybe you think it’s harmless. Maybe you think I’ll just keep forgiving you.”
His thumb brushed the last of the powder from my cheek, lingering in a way that made it hard to breathe. I opened my mouth to argue, to remind him I loved him and Spook knew that, but something in his expression stopped me.
“I told you once,” he said softly, almost tenderly, “never to forget that you’re mine. That we belong together. I meant it.”
His hand fell away, but his gaze didn’t.
“We’ll talk later,” he murmured, before turning and walking off, leaving me standing there with my skin still warm from his touch and my mind spinning with everything unsaid.
Novicius in Arte Medica A Novice in the Art of MedicineMedical School is a Warzone. Ashrahan was failing. Then, the System woke up.
Quote: Synopsis: Sleepless nights, borrowed notes, and caffeine. When exhaustion drags Ashrahan to the edge, a silent system awakens, transforming patients into interactive lessons and textbooks into living networks of surgical precision.