“Okay, I guess I can understand why the sentinels and fallen knights are written in black, but what’s with the other colors?”
“Everything about our realm is rooted in magic,” Drekkoril explained. “The list responds to the perception and thoughts of our people. Although it is only the inhabitants of the castle who have met you, many ideas are rooted in the ideology of the Fae from stories told for thousands of years. They fear the undead components of your family since those things exist in tomes of horror and nowhere else, so their names are darkened. You see, Chander’s line is glowing silver—his magic is dark, but he is also a giver of life. Every shifter’s name is also luminescent; our people are still learning and responding to the idea that Roriethiel has tamed a Faedrekan. To have someone who has a beast inside them, shifters are in the same category as Roriethiel himself. They will call youdamo-kiods, or demigods.”
“Okay, why are Sander and I listed first? Chrys and Elf should be at the top as emperors,” Rafe pointed out.
“Again, it is shuffled by magic. You will note the brightest shine has been reserved for you both. The sioskallos and servants believe you arekiods. You have dragons inside you, and you have wolves tied to your soul. To them, to have two animals, the only explanation is that you are gods.”
Rafe’s expression was befuddled. Aleksander’s arm went around his mate, and he tugged him close to press a kiss to his temple. “You’re a god to me,” Aleksander murmured, and Rafe’s cheeks pinkened.
A moment later Rafe curled his lip at his wolf, Mortis. “How often do we need to go over this?No. We’re in a room full of people. Sander and I aren’t going to do that right now, and get a new word.”
Aleksander chuckled and brushed his lips across Rafe’s skin again. “We must explain our dragon culture to the Fae, so they understand that we answer to our emperors despite the number of beasts attached to our souls.”
“Yeah, plus Chand’s the one who resurrected our wolves and tied them to us,” Rafe pointed out. “We aren’t even Council leaders.”
“Give them the opportunity to understand how your social structure works,” Rorie pleaded. “We can do our best to explain what we can, but their thoughts are their own and will be reflected here magically.”
“I find it fascinating that the will of the people is so visual. It would be nice to have such a thing at home,” Ellery stated.
“Is there something similar for you?” Renny asked his mate.
“Yes, of course. It is not visible right now as Drekkoril has not been officially introduced to our people, but this afternoon you will bear witness to how the people feel about us.”
“It is my understanding that it once only bore the names of the Noble Protectors, but the Protectors sought for more power, especially in the Vol’Gon era. The sioskallos thrived in such a struggle, and they are now lightly scribbled in as well.”
“You have already made your opinion of my parents known. You wished they had not worked so hard to change things, but the fairies need a voice, Drekkoril.”
“I sought to explain things to the D’Vaires, not incite an argument. We have no time for this; I must go meet the sioskallos. Take your place upstairs before my arrival.”
Rorie’s lips pursed as if he wished to debate the point further, but he turned to Renny and his handsome face morphed into a bright smile. “Shall we do as my Noble Protector wishes?”
“Absolutely,” Renny answered. “Good luck, Drekkoril.”
The bemollo’s expression was surprised for a moment; then he fidgeted with his vest. “My thanks, Renny. I will do my best.”
“I will be glad when the scales of the Faedrekan are again in your eyes,” Rorie said, tugging on Renny’s arm and leaving him no choice but to scurry after his mate.
The moment they made it up to a higher level in the castle above, where Drekkoril was to meet with his sioskallos, Dra’Kaedan marched over to Renny, Brogan’s fingers laced with his. “I think we can do better than just listening.”
“Excellent idea, dear,” his mother responded. “No reason we can’t see through the floor.”
“Everyone, let’s gather around the room in a circle so we can have an unobstructed view,” Prism Wizard Vadimas Porfyra-Dewitt instructed, leading his other half closer to the stone wall.
Once everyone was standing or sitting in place, Dra’Kaedan lifted a hand and shot out a bolt of magic. Lichpriestess Saura D’Vaire did the same, and with little effort their spells allowed everyone to observe and listen to everything below them.
Renny took a seat on the floor, and Rorie promptly maneuvered next to him as Drekkoril stalked in. Knowing what it was like to be brought to life by a sorcerer, Renny had compassion for Drekkoril. There was not a single moment to adjust to the world before he had the mantle of leadership forced on him. “Was Drekkoril summoned with your memories?”
“I granted him knowledge passed down Fae bloodlines, but he was not privy to my thoughts or feelings. Were you not given the same when Dra’Kaedan gave you life?”
“Technically, Fate gave me life by placing me on Dra’Kaedan’s skin, but I had every memory, thought, or feeling he experienced.”
“That means your perception is warped to his.”
“I could still come to my own conclusions. It also allowed me to understand how he adapted to the world around him.”
Rorie frowned. “How is that helpful?”
“Well, for starters, it gave me a fondness for him. I understand him. It allowed us to grow close quickly. It’s a relationship we both value.”
