Page 98 of A Whisper of Cinders

“The Academy is surrounded by mountains and an enormous forest, but there’s also a protective barrier, held strong by the professors and Mrs Delalune, keeping all danger out at all times. You can pass through it, but I would strongly advise against it.”

His tone tells me enough, I do not want to see what is on the other side of that barrier, that much is clear. He waves his hand and the Academy is replaced by the village parallel to it.

“The barrier reaches to the village of Brugamere. You can see the village if you look outside the window. It is really worth a visit. The food is good, the fae are kind and the shops have new items every day.”

“I have visited it and I can’t wait to go back.” The memory of the trip with my friends makes my lips twitch. Especially of how that night ended.

With another wave of Sirideáns hand, the map jumps to the left side. “This is where our people live.” A heavy sigh escapes him and I’m not sure if he’s fully aware of it.

The name appears before he can voice it. “Solunara?”

He nods, face set grim, the mood in the room changing instantly. It is a large area, again surrounded by mountains and trees. “The City of Solunara is one where magic is feelable in every street and around every corner. Many fae families call it home, but over the years, the magic has diluted. The nature there used to take your breath away.”

“Used to?”

“The fae are struggling, dear Maily, and have been for a very long time. Dark forces are closing in from every side, seizing more land with a terrifying speed. Our people are strong, they fight back with whatever they can, yet I am not sure if they can hold on much longer.”

And with that, the onyx table shows the final part of the map, the largest area that is covered in shadows and green lightning.

“There’s a reason it won’t show you that area, although Aurelune used to be the heart of the realm, where the king and queen used to live amongst the fae. Aurelune breathed nature, but all that exists there now is poison, rot and cruelty.”

The longer I stare at the dark region, the more corruption I can feel vibrating off it. It gives me the shivers and a heavy feeling settles in the pit of my stomach.

“What happened?”

Sirideán looks at me with so much pain and sorrow, I am seconds away from taking back my question, but with another wave, the map disappears and the surface becomes smooth again.

“The tale of Thyralune is one of light and shadow, since one cannot live without the other,” he begins, turning towards the liquid table. “Once, long ago, this land thrived under the rule of King Finnick and Queen Eirian. There was no one who loved their kingdom as much as they did and they ruled with excellence and kindness. Their connection to the land ran deep and under their reign, there was peace, prosperity and joy.”

The onyx liquid in front of us solidifies until I see children running through cobbled streets, their laughter rings in my ears. The image vanishes and another one resurfaces, something that seems like a festivity, fae dancing and twirling, musicians playing a soft tune.

“But one day, they disappeared. No one knew where they had gone to. Search parties were organised, but no matter how long they searched, there was no clue, no sign or even a whisper of where they could be. Seeming out of options, a trusted friend of the royal family reigned for a long while, someone who was respected by the people and was chosen to rule if anything would ever happen to our monarchs. Yet those same people spread whispers of their king and queen abandoning them, leaving the land to rot. That’s when the decay began.”

Where before, the liquid table showed a vibrant landscape full of life and colour, it now changed to grey and black, hinged with a poisonous green. “You should know, Maily, that in the land of Thyralune, there was no such thing as decay. The king and queen kept the lands alive, letting their powers seep into it. Their heartbeat was that of the land and vice versa. So when they disappeared and part of the land died, no one was surprised. But when months after they had gone, entire forests started to turn to dust, the rivers ran dry and crops failed, we knew something was very wrong.”

The magical table manifests a woman that makes my skin crawl. I take a step back, terrified by the sight of her. The magical water colours her eyes a black so dark it consumes everything around her, same as the jet-black long hair and luscious red lips. Along with the pale skin, she looks like a living corpse.

“Morvith,” I whisper, a chill settling in my bones, and I sever eye contact with the image to look at Sirideán. “That’s her name, isn’t it?”

He somehow doesn’t look surprised, even though I definitely am. A pounding begins in my temples, and I massage them, hoping to prevent it from fully erupting.

“It is. She is corruption incarnated, no creature is as dark and cruel as she is, except for her loyal subjects maybe. She claimed the throne with sweet words and promises that sounded too good to be true.”

“She could do that?”

Sadness spreads across Sirideán's face. “Although the lands were being guarded by a powerful fae, she was no royal. Some things can only be solved by the blood of a monarch and with nearly two centuries without our king and queen, Morvith came at the right time.” He seems disgusted by the female, hatred and sadness coating his eyes. “She is after all the king’s sister, the fae thought she could restore what was destroyed, not knowing she was the cause of it all. And she did at first, earning their trust and when she had them eating out of the palm of her hand, she struck like a poisonous viper. The respect and gratitude they felt for her quickly changed into petrifying fear.”

He sighs heavily, summoning a creature equally as daunting as she is. Something made of wood and flesh with long limbs and terrifying sharp claws. “Since the lands were in such a disastrous state, she needed a tremendous amount of power to cure the lands of this disease. The fae — loyal as they are — wanted nothing more than to cure the realm, and so they offered their aid. But once it became clear what they actually had to do, there was no way back.”

Sirideán bows his head, the memory a burden. “She never wanted to restore the lands, she wanted more rot, more decay. She commanded the volunteers to draw magic from the land and life itself, everything coated with beautiful words and promises. And that’s how these creatures were created.”

I stretch out my hand, my fingers moving through the liquid. “These were fae once?”

“They were, death would’ve been a mercy on their souls. Nature will assist us when needed, but drawing that amount of power to help an evil entity comes with a price. The fae would rather die than help her, but she wouldn’t let them. She controlled their minds and erased the thought, until they were only a shell of themselves.”

Sirideán stares at the image of the creature too, mind far away in his memory. “We tried to change them back, cure them somehow. But once the rot has started, there is no turning back.” He closes his eyes for a moment and I nearly reach out my hand to comfort him. “The king returned centuries later, alone and nearing the end of his life. It nearly broke him to see the state his once so powerful kingdom was in. The rot had spread across half of Thyralune and the only reason why it hadn’t fully spread was because of the few powerful friends that tried to keep it at bay. And although weakened, he was not without power. So with the last of his strength, he casted a powerful spell across the realm causing the rot to stop from spreading. But in doing so, he froze the land entirely. The endless snow you see outside was the only way to stop death and sickness from spreading.”

For the few times I have been outside, I’ve never seen any rot or decay. The snow and cold temperatures are hard to miss, but I assumed it was natural, just as it was at Anima.