𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖 | 𝟏𝟖+

xiv. bloodlines.

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‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐒𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐋 𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐀 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐏 𝐎𝐅 𝐄𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐘𝐌𝐏𝐇𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐈𝐗𝐈𝐄𝐒 as she instructs them on painting with acrylics. The smiles plastered on their cheeks bring forth a sense of irony when the kingdom of Aelethia threatens to unravel in full. Still, amidst the blight, the fae manage to keep their heads held up.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Asphodel lifts her amethyst eyes, an opulent violet that puts the alliums to shame. Her ashy brunette hair drapes over her shoulders in long waterfalls. White baby's breath flowers grown into her curls, as well as a laurel of water lilies crowning her head. She smiles as Elowen and Ronyn approach closer, one so beautiful it puts any woman to shame.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"A little pixie told me that you'd be searching for me," she exclaims to the two. "Hold on just a moment. Then we can talk."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Around them, the fae students all stare in awe at the two visitors. They've probably never seen a were up close. Ronyn could be considered intimidating with his athletic build and gnarly tattoos inking up his skin, and when he grins, those sharp canine teeth are on full display. Nevertheless, the man would never hurt a ladybug unless it attacked him first.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎For Elowen, she knows the only other wyng in existence is Morrow, and from what she knows, he's not known to make his rounds to the other provinces unless he wants something. For the fae to even agree to house him for a handful of days seems out of the ordinary. After all this, it's safe to say that Elowen's wings make her a complete alien to Asphodel's students.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎The queen flicks her wrists. "You are dismissed until after the harvest moon's gathering."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎A plethora of cheers erupt before the room becomes a mess of half-painted canvases and variegated palettes. It would be an enormous mess for anyone to tidy, but almost immediately, the art supplies seem to clean up themselves.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Asphodel clasps her hands in front of her. "My, my, what do we have here? I haven't seen a wyng in years, aside from that grumpy alpha who's napping the day away."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"She's more than just a wyng, and that's why we came to see you," Ronyn explains. Before she can stop him, he reaches for her maroon locks, his rough-padded fingertips gliding across her cheek. He tucks the strand behind her pointed fae ear. "She's a half-breed."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎The queen frowns, the expression showing her age just a little bit more. "That's not possible. The wyng were only allowed to breed in purity."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Morrow's a half-breed," Ronyn points out.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Yes, but Morrow Killian's situation is much different. His existence is because of his father and mother's bargain with the witches," Asphodel shudders at the mention of those forsaken people. "Letting him onto our lands was our first mistake. Agreeing to his favour will be our second."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎The speculation surrounding Morrow intrigues her more than it should. She wishes she brought the journal she discovered in the Tabrien library with her, the one written by Lililya Killian, but to her dismay, she left it behind to collect dust. Lililya's anecdotes provided her with answers to Morrow's sketched upbringing. Whatever history that surrounds Morrow isn't a past that's taken lightly. The trust has long been severed for him, all thanks to his involvement with the witches of Scaerus.