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The truth.
With towering bookshelves that stretch up into shadows, it is a place of calm and quiet.
The others seem more relaxed standing here, as if they are surprised I brought them somewhere so beautiful.
“By the stars,” Yarrow breathes. “It’s real. The Elven Archives?”
I nod. “It’s real, my friend. And this is where I found the truth about our kind.”
I stride over to the small table near the centre of the room. On its surface lies a single book, bound in deep blue leather.
I lay my hands on its cover and breathe in the memory of the words that lie within. “Do you know what this text is?” I ask, looking up at the watching crowd. Just twenty of them.
Twenty Shadowkind to begin to revolution.
What a delicious thought.
No one answers me.
“This text is called The Rise and Fall of the Shadowkind,” I read aloud. “A Treatise on the Darkest Chapter of Our History.”
Yarrow appears at my shoulder, peering down at the text. “What does it say?”
A hush falls over the library and now, in this moment, it is as if the others have forgotten that I have changed.
They don’t see my new face or my glowing eyes.
They trust me.
They gather around, hanging on my every word as I begin to read to them.
“In the ancient annals of our kingdom, there exists a race of fae known as the Shadowkind. Born with wings as dark as night and hearts to match, these creatures were once the scourge of our realm, their very existence a blight upon the land.
“It is said that in the early days, the Shadowkind lived amongst the other fae, their true nature hidden beneath a veneer of civility. But as they reached the age of fifty, a strange and terrible transformation would occur. Their wings, once small and unremarkable, would grow and mature, becoming vast and powerful. And with this physical change came a darkness of the soul, a corruption that twisted their very being.
“The Shadowkind were beings of pure evil, their magic fuelled by the shadows that clung to their wings. They rampaged across the kingdom, spreading terror and destruction wherever they went. The other fae, the Leafborne, the Mountainside, and Waterweavers, lived in constant fear, never knowing when the next attack would come.
“In those dark days, the Sunborne lived apart, sequestered in their citadel like monks in a monastery. They were the guardians of light and, along with the elves, the keepers of ancient knowledge. But they did not interfere in the affairs of the outside world. And so, for generations, the kingdom suffered under the reign of shadows.
“Until a hero arose from among the Sunborne. The first of the line that would become known as the Lords and Ladies of Luminael. This brave and noble fae, whose name has been lost to history, looked upon the suffering of the kingdom and knew that something had to be done.
“With a small but devoted band of followers, he ventured forth from the citadel and took the fight to the Shadowkind. The war that followed was long and brutal, the forces of light and darkness clashing in a conflict that threatened to tear the very fabric of the world asunder.
“But in the end, the Sunborne prevailed. The Shadowkind were defeated, their armies scattered, their power broken. But the hero knew this was not enough. As long as the Shadowkind’s wings remained unbound, as long as their dark magic was allowed to flourish, the kingdom would never truly be safe.
“And so, a practice began. The Shadowkind, now subjugated and enslaved, had their wings bound as soon as they fledged. Tight, constricting ropes that prevented their wings from ever reaching maturity, and therefore from ever unleashing the evil that lurked within.
“This practice has continued for thousands of years, handed down from generation to generation of Sunborne rulers. It is a necessary cruelty, a harsh but vital measure to ensure the safety and prosperity of the kingdom. For without the bindings, the Shadowkind would rise again. Their dark magic would return, and the realm would once more be plunged into an age of terror and despair.
“This is the truth of our history, the dark secret that underlies the very foundation of our society. It is a heavy burden, a grim responsibility. But it is one the Sunborne, the descendants of that first great hero, must bear.
“For the sake of the kingdom, for the sake of all fae, the Shadowkind must remain bound. Their wings must never be allowed to spread. And those with shadow magic must beware; for if the magic of shadows is used on a bound fae, their power will be unleashed. Their demon form will rise. This is the curse of the bindings.”
I close the book and wait while silence quivers in the air.
When I look up, several of the Shadowkind are crying.
A few others are shaking their heads, steely determination forming in their gazes.
