Freedom was an elusive dream; an idea people fantasised about. The shadows were what everyone had to make home.

Ever since war brimmed, fracturing the alliance between fae, the sun's rays had become mere legends, replaced by a relentless, bitter cold that haunted our existence. They said it was Mother Nature's retribution for tarnishing the purity of our realm.

Those who could wield dark magic spells were deemed cursed—unnatural. But I say it's a façade, a mask worn by those who fear others more powerful than them. The high lords and high ladies who couldn't hold such power dreaded those who could harness it. It's why they ordered the elimination of those caught wielding such abilities.

Fear consumed them. Because they're weak.

Thousands of families were destroyed and separated because of the slaughter. And that's what Selene—my mother—helped rebuild. It was a sanctuary for those who rebelled against unjust rules, and an aim to reclaim the land that was once peaceful, embracing individuals regardless of the power they possessed.

I laid beside my mother, clutching her pale wrist as if she might vanish into think air at any moment. Elex, our village's leader, had confirmed her irregular heartbeats and mottled skin were clear signs that she was nearing her end. But this had been our reality for months now.

Every passing day felt like our connection was slipping away.

From the moment she channelled her power that formed the protective dome, she had not awoken. The act had been a defence using dark magic, shielding countless fae from the ongoing war. Her power sustained the barrier for twenty-two years, a sacrifice that cost her own strength and sanity. She never awoke since. Not once. She couldn't muster the energy to do anything but be drowned in slumber.

We believed the dark magic entwined in the weaving of such formidable spells had consumed her, and when it finished consuming her strength, the walls would tear down, leaving us exposed for our enemies to hunt us.

Her shoulder length hair was brittle against my fingertips as I gently combed the hazelnut strands. Every day that passed gave me a glimmer of hope that she'd awake, but deep down I knew her fate would be death.

A soft knock sounded against the cabin's door. "Nyxalia, you ready?"

My pointed ears instinctively stood up as I heard Elex's voice. "Yeah, coming." I sprang to my feet, straightening my fleece lined pants before I headed out the door.

Elex raised his bronzed brows beneath his fur-lined hood. "I thought you were warming up."

I reached for a sword propped up against a tree. "This is my warm-up."

A chuckle rumbled from his throat as he grasped a sword from his back. "Alright, let's hope you're not rusty then."

A silver metal blade pierced through the air, sailing towards me. I'd barely seen him throw it, but I caught the hilt of the lightweight dagger with ease, the metal cool in my hand. "Prepare for a workout, old man."

Before I could strike, he strode forward thrusting his sword towards me. The clash of tempered steel striking echoed through the village. He kept attacking, his stance strong with every movement. My arm was burning from weight of his blows.

As he seamlessly pushed me backwards with his blade, I swiftly slashed my sword at his torso and aimed my mini blade precisely at his stomach.

With a fluid motion, he shifted his weight and brought his sword down, blocking both of my weapons.

He pushed me backwards, but not hard enough to topple me over. "Watch your balance," he advised gently, his eyes fixated on my form. "Every step matters. You're not just dancing; you're wielding a sword."

I knew better than to snap back. As much as I wanted to, every day was a lesson I had to listen carefully to.

His blade crossed mine in a swift manoeuvre, our weapons locking once and then twice in a brief struggle. Pressing against the force of the blade, I spun on my heel, using the momentum to slice my blade towards his torso.

His reflexes were quicker than mine. He retreated in a controlled slide, narrowing the distance between us with another well-aimed strike. My breath was becoming uneven as each strike reached me with building speed, our blades slashing against each other's in a rhythm.

"The sword isn't your only option, use your magic."

Seething with frustration, I circled him, his form mirroring my movements with precision.

"There's no point." Every time I used my magic, I couldn't form anything solid. It had been the same thing my whole life.

Elex had already prepared his sword for a follow up attack, and at no delay, he thrusted his sword towards me. With an unconscious reaction, I parried his attack, but that was all I could do. I couldn't push him away because he kept pressing forward with the weight of his sword forcing me down.

"Fight back with your power, Nyx. You can't rely solely on your sword. Be the weapon," he urged.

My teeth ground against each other as I fought to escape his relentless pressure. I had to get out of it. But how? I just had to keep practicing, but doubt circled my mind over and over. The outcome had always been the same.

"Nyx," he growled.

I seethed.

As the wind brushed against my exposed skin, I focused on it, letting its power surge through me. It felt like electricity was dispersing through me as I reached deep within it, summoning its essence. With a forceful burst, a small gust of wind formed.

It just needed to reach him.

But it halted, inches between us, howling.

As I strained to maintain the gust, he planted his feet firmly and made a gesture with his hand. The wind swirled around us, adding onto my own power. But now it wasn't targeting him; instead, it was at me, and none of it was my power.

With a swift motion, I raised my sword, and slashed through the wind before it could hit me—dispersing it into harmless currents.

I panted. "Not too bad, right?"

Yeah, but you still couldn't wield anything.

Elex exhaled a slow breath as he sheathed his sword, the metal sliding smoothly into its scabbard on his back. There was a hint of surprise in his eyes as he said, "That was a solid form you sliced right through. Not many can use that as a defence strategy, but not having your magic as a skillset will be a heavy downfall on your side."

He had been urging me to practice more of my magic for a long time now, and I did, but the motivation to keep going when all I saw was myself failing... was hard. I trained for a whole straight year one time, and there still weren't any results.

I slipped my dagger into my black boots, figuring out a way to sway the conversation into another direction. He was right, as much as I hated it, but focusing on the positives were easier to deal with. It was the first time I had ever tried a defence like that, and it had only been a subconscious reflex. "Did my mother ever use it?" I asked, curiously.

His lips were quickly pressed into a thing line before clearing his throat. "No, but your father..." He stopped before saying anything else.

Hearing 'you father' was like a blow to the chest, the words threatening to suffocate me.

He was a savage, and I couldn't bear anyone calling him my father. I refused to share blood with a monster who sent his loyal dogs to indiscriminately massacre any who bore the mark of dark-magic upon their brow—including my own mother. He was the evil that synonymized the mark of dark magic with a death sentence.

Other high lords and ladies had followed his influence, believing anyone fond of dark magic were a threat. It was all because they were power hungry. Rumours whispered about other rebellions gathering in the shadows, their location unknown for their own survival. They had to be smart, just like us. If they weren't, they'd have a target on their back. And war wasn't particularly looking good for any rebellions. Not until legions and courts reunited—if they even existed.

"It's almost time for me to hunt," I said, my voice laced with unease. "But I'll see you tonight, right?"

Elex nodded, but just as I turned to leave, he placed a gentle hand on my shoulder, halting me. His eyes carried an apology I couldn't ignore. "I'm sorry."

I squeezed his hand in understanding, hoping he would understand as well. "Don't be." With those words I walked away, a silent promise hanging between us.

One day, I would face that conversation head on, but not yet. First, I would prepare for the day I came face to face with him. Deep down I didn't think Elex was ready to face talking about him either, but he would do it for me—no matter how many memories haunted him.

Warmth greeted me as I re-entered the cabin, the cold air still seeping in like a noxious smell. The wind howled against the wood, its ominous sound causing a slight tremor in the cabin's core. It had been picking up for quite some time, and more hunters had been coming back sooner than usual, unable to endure the brutal conditions.

I secured a brown pouch around my slender waist and grabbed a white fur blanket from the wooden rack, carefully draping it over my mother. If she was conscious enough to feel the cold, her condition made no indication. She was motionless.

A series of thumps echoed on the door.

"Come in," I said.

Five people entered, their rusty pouches glued to their waists and their daggers and bows tightly rested on their sides.

Two groups of people rotated when hunting, each doing eight-to-twelve-hour rotations.

One of our best scouts pushed through the group with her breath heavy with worry. "Last rotation is late."

My ears rose and my heart accelerated with adrenaline. Not once had they been late, not even by a minute.

Something wasn't right.

***

Second chapter up, lmk what yous think!
Is anything hard to imagine during the chapter?
And is there too much info dumping?