Page 58 of Renegade Kings
I opened my mouth to defend myself, but then snapped it shut again. I hadn’t considered the fact that whilst I had elements of spring magic inside me; the rest was different to what had governed this land before.
“I’m sorry,” I muttered. This dryad was clearly old, and given that it was a powerful land deity in its own right, it was a pretty safe leap that the Spring Court was its home. “I didn’t walk into the palace of my volition, and I didn’t intend to claim the court. But you’re right, I should have realised that my magic would affect the land like it has. I felt the wild magic I have merging with the Spring magic of the Court, and I should have tried to stop it. I didn’t mean to create something new here. Is that what’s hurting you? Have I done this?”
“New,” the dryad scoffed. “Only a fae would look at something created by the very power of the universe and have the audacity to think they could mould it into something new. No child, there’s nothing new here. But what you have done is create something old. Something ancient, forgotten and hungry. I wonder if you will be strong enough to survive what you’ve set in motion. Or will you be just another lost child of Nymeria intent on destroying everything they touch.”
The dryad crept closer, and I held my ground. This conversation was definitely leaning into smiting territory and if I was going down, I’d at least do it pretending that I wasn’t about to shit my pants.
But then a wave of determination swept over me. Running and hiding needed to be a way of the past, and as much as I might not want to admit it right now, running off to face things alone wasn’t exactly working out for me, either. It was time to learn to lean on those around me. To work together. We all had our strengths, and together, we were always going to be stronger than apart.
They were my mates, and I shouldn’t disrespect them by going off on a mission of my own to spare them.
“I refuse to die here. And I refuse to allow my people to suffer any longer. So, yeah, I might be naïve, and I might have a lot to learn, but I’m here and I’m ready to learn. My magic is powerful, and whatever has started out here amongst the trees won’t be the end of me. It’s just the beginning. Because you’re right, whatever this magic is, it’s my magic, and it’s time for me to learn how to control it.” I was panting by the time I’d finished my little speech and all it did was cause the dryad to look like it was trying to hold back its laughter.
I wasn’t a little girl anymore. I knew I had the potential to be so much more and I owed it to my people to be the queen they needed me to be.
“Why do the fae always think that controlling magic is the only way? The very gift that Nymeria has given you and you decide to crush it beneath your will. Why do you think the world is how it is? That the fae have lost so much of what was given to them? You should let your magic free and work with it, not against it. Is it not a part of you? Does it not deserve to breathe?”
I had no answers, just a growing sense of shame to line up against all the other failures I tortured myself with.
“Why did you bring me here?” I asked again, realising that the dryad’s question was bordering on advice and that wasn’t really how our encounter had started.
Instead of answering me, the dryad looked around the clearing, and with a wave of its hand the land moved, rolling and climbing, until instead of the flat meadow we’d stood in, there now sat two mounds in the centre that looked suspiciously like seats. The dryad strode to one and then sat atop, crossing its legs in a way that didn’t seem possible, and sighed as if in relief.
They looked at me curiously and then nodded to the second mound in invitation. I wasn’t exactly going to refuse. Now that I wasn’t as scared, I was intrigued by what they had to say. This was a creature that hadn’t been seen in Nymeria for millennia. One that had been relegated to nothing but stories. And here I was having a conversation with them. This was an opportunity to get some answers about things that, until now, had seemed impossible. Or at least I hoped it was.
As I settled on the mound, I looked over the dryad in front of me. They really didn’t look like they were doing too well. The stories I’d heard of the dryad had them as these fearsome magic wielders, so strong that the fae once believed them to be gods. When they disappeared from our world, it was said to be a punishment because of the fae’s lack of respect for the world around them. It was the beginning of our decline and the point where everyone said the fae’s magic started to decline.
“Who said I was the one to bring you here?” it finally answered.
“Like you said, whatever is building out here is because of my magic, and I know how my magic feels. The pull I had to come to this place was something different.”
The dryad smiled, cocking his head to the side. “You’re starting to think for a change. Perhaps you will survive after all.”
“It’s hard to find the positive in that when you make it sound like such an insult,” I snarked, tiring of this creature constantly calling me stupid.
It laughed, the sound like splintering wood.
“Yeah, yeah, I am stupid and you’re not here to make me feel better about it,” I added, already knowing what they were about to say and figuring it would sting less if I just said it myself.
This time the dryad nodded respectfully, and I actually felt like we were getting somewhere.
“I did call you here. I sensed the power you sent through the court when you arrived and when you claimed those males as your own. This dying world needs some hope, and I was curious to see if you were it.”
“And by dying world, you mean Nymeria in general, not what’s happening to the fae.” I knew it might frustrate the dryad to simplify things down like this, but I wanted to make sure I got absolutely everything I could out of this conversation. To do that, we needed to go back to the very beginning.
“Yes,” they sighed, but continued on anyway. “Nymeria was not meant to be like this. Everyone in their own little pockets, hoarding what power they could and crushing the magic into useless little tricks meant to tear the lives from others. Nymeria took parts of itself and gifted them to the fae. The whole cannot exist if you keep these elements separated.”
“You mean the Courts,” I realised.
“When have the elements existed in isolation in this world? Where there is one, there is always at least one more. But you push them apart, rather than gathering them together to see the beauty they can forge. The realm weeps to be whole, but none of you are listening. You forgot how to listen.” A tear gathered at the edge of the dryad’s eye, but it didn’t fall. Because as much as they were sad at the state of the realm, I could see the underlying rage simmering inside them as well. “Even when Nymeria gave the fae a champion, they turned against them.”
It was a truth I wasn’t ready to hear. The dryad was right, though. The fae were so lost as a people now that we didn’t even realise it. We were all to blame for what was happening to our world, and the creatures of Nymeria could do nothing but sit by and watch it happen.
“Is that why the creatures of Nymeria have sided with Arik? Because he is trying to unify Nymeria in his own twisted way?” I could see why they’d feel like they had no other choice. After all, it sounded like there was no love lost between the fae and the other creatures that lived in our lands. We’d never co-existed with them properly, so why should they pity us now?
“Your Winter King is nothing but an abomination, and his crimes against the creatures of Nymeria will not go unanswered,” the dryad seethed.
Finally, something that could help.