“Goddess.” Whispered Eshe, a hand covering her mouth with horror.
“That is why…that is why the queen hates us so much.” Penina whispered. “She blamed the shifters for the death of her mother and her son…killing our queen was her retribution.”
Jar slanted eyes closed. “Sadly, yes.” He sighed and swept aside his blonde hair. “You all must understand that grief can either form us into something dark and twisted or allow us to grow intosomething more, it can fuel our vengeance or deliver us peace. It is a choice we make, at times without notice. Deirdre made her choice and never looked back.”
I heeded Jar’s advice and let go of the deep hurt in my chest from knowing that my mother was killed for misplaced revenge. “But why want the very power that destroyed her own mother and son?”
Jar sighed. “The thirst for power is a vicious cycle and thirst for justice even more so…while searching for it, the lines blur, and we often become the villain in our own story.” He looked at me pleadingly. “Be sure to understand, Daemon, that Deirdre led us through the blood wars, without her, many fae would have perished. None of us knew that her grief was festering beneath the strong front she held for all of us during those dark times. If we had…if I had. I would have stopped it.”
I gave him a sad smile, knowing the toll it took for Jar to be the cause of one's death and not the preventer of it. “You are like a father to me, Jar. I would never have blamed you even if you had. But thank you for telling me that.”
His blue eyes gazed at me thoughtfully and then he sighed. “There is more.” Tapping his fingers together he continued. “Dierdre was insistent on destroying the blood fae entirely…like we all were. But without Talgira, we had no way of defending ourselves during their attacks and with each victory of theirs, with each feeding, they got stronger and stronger. So much blood was spilled during that time that the mountains turned red…and stayed that way. Like the vile red cap creatures who soaked their hats in the blood of their kills, the mountains did the same with the blood shed of our people. We call them the Red Cap Mountains now because of that, but they were never that color when I was young.”
I glanced at Tyr who sat very still in his chair and I knew he was remembering those caves. There would be no lightening the mood for him. Sometimes we just had to feel…and learn from it.
Jar held our attention when he leaned in and flattened his hands on the smooth polished wood. “That amount of bloodshed drew the ire of our Goddess Faerie and along with her…her two god brothers—”
“I’m sorry but did you say brothers?" We all stared with wide shock when Remnant gasped. “The goddess has brothers?!”
Chapter 47
Jar’slipsthinnedandthen grunted. “Yes, she has brothers. Very few have memories of them, their existence erased from most fae after the blood wars by the Goddess herself.”
“How is it you have remembered, father?” Quinn asked, concern etched on his face.
Jarquinn regarded his son thoughtfully. “As a healer, my body continually heals itself with my manifested power. My memories cannot be altered, when they are…my power just heals itself and the memory comes back.” He sighed deeply. “It is a curse as much as a blessing. There are many things I’d like to forget but cannot.” Then he smiled at Quinn, the love for his son shining bright in his eyes. “But then again, there are many memories that I am blessed to remember so vividly.”
I narrowed my eyes on the master healer. My father had told me once, after one of many philosophical lessons from Jarquinn, to not listen to the words the ancient had to say…but the words he did not. That was where the real truth was. “What risk does this put you in, telling us this, if it’s something we should not know, Jar?”
He grinned at me. Pride shining in his eyes. “None that I cannot handle, my clever cub. Do not fret, Sheol will not come for me this day.”
I growled low. “Be that it will not come ever. We need you Jar.”
His slanted blue eyes held mine. “Even you cannot make such a promise, my king.”
Snarling, I looked around the room. My need to protect the ancient fae like he was my own father thundered in my blood. “None of this information leaves this room. Vow it now or leave before any more truths are to be told. I will not hold it against you.”
“I’m too comfortable to leave at this point.” Tyr emphasized his comfort by nestling more into his chair.
Penina wiggled her feet. “Same. I’m in ‘til the end of the end.”
Jar gave her a thoughtful look and my gaze darted between them. Penina held most of her own secrets close to her heart but every once in a while it was as if she left us clues to find them.
Quinn nodded dutifully but his face was lined with worry. “Of course I am with you my king. I vow it.”
“I vow to never share the tale you are about to tell. We love you Jar.” Eshe gave the healer a loving smile.
Everyone turned to the stoic shadow fae at my side who was watching Penina intimately just like I had been. She looked up with surprise when the silence was too obvious and her eyes darted around the table.
“Me? You’re asking me? Of course I vow it. I’ve had a damned target on my back since the day of my birth. There is no other way to live for me.”
Jarquinn’s sky blue eyes gazed at her with the same love he held for all of us. “So be it.” He waved his hands around the room, spinning his tale. “In the beginning the Goddess Faerie did not create this world alone. She had help, the help of her two brothers. Shea her older brother, the god of death, and Ichor her youngest brother, the god of blood. While Shea had a realm of his own to rule we often refer to as Sheol, Ichor did not.” He chuckled at the surprised looks around the room before he continued. “As an act of gratitude for assisting her in creating Faerie, she granted her two brothers the ability to create two species of their own in their likeimage, a species she called the fae. Shea’s creations were creatures of the night and he bestowed upon them powers to manipulate darkness. He named them the Shadow Fae.” The master healer gave Remnant a pointed look before continuing. “The blood fae were Ichor’s creation, created in his own image and he gifted them a small fraction of his power we call the Sanguine. Faerie then created the rest of the courts…the shifters, the elementals, and the water fae. And so the era of the fae began. The God Shea returned to his own realm, leaving the shadow fae to live under his sister’s rule but the younger brother remained having no realm of his own, he wanted to watch over his creations along with his sister. Faerie indulged him, for she loved her brothers, especially her youngest…even if he always craved for more.”
Jarquinn's eyes became distant and Tyr shifted uncomfortably in his seat, wary of the ancient healer lost in forgotten memories.
“When the wars reached their peak,” he began again, still distant, “we realized it wasn’t just the hunger that drove the blood fae but also the encouraging whisperings of the God Ichor. For he craved the entire world for himself, a world of his own to rule. By the time his sister noticed Ichor’s influence had spread, the damage was already done. Their feud clashed in a brutal force of power that even to this day, I hope to never witness again.”
Quinn stood abruptly and rushed to his fathers side. Placing his own healing hand on Jar’s shoulder. “Father?”
