I couldn’t keep a smile off my face as I walked away from my meeting with the dwarf-elf couple. They were fully onboard, and they would be helping me test my feed! I knew it would take a while for results to show, but I could wait.

  Yet my happiness dimmed somewhat at the memories of the elf’s curse resonating with my mana, and the truth revealed by that resonance.

  The truth was that I could probably break the curse outright. It was a curse cast by Autumn, and I was a Noble Autumn Fae. I might be able to cleanse Nelaeryn of it entirely, if I tried.

  I wasn’t going to.

  There was a reason fae stayed out of each other’s business when it came to casting curses on the other races. Accidentally touching a curse cast by another fae, and having it resonate with my magic, was one thing. Undoing it was another matter altogether.

  True, there was a chance that Oberon wouldn’t even notice. Judging by the fact that the curse had started to fade, I could safely assume that it was partially broken already. Curses from one of the Seasons usually grew stronger as they were passed on through the generations.

  But I wouldn’t take that risk. Not even if the couple begged. Not even if it meant the difference between life and death for the mother.

  Oberon was upset with me already. I had fled his service, after all. If I broke one of his curses on top of that, I would be lucky if he didn’t come after me himself. Autumn wasn’t one for casually starting up Wild Hunts, but that might just annoy him enough to do it.

  No. I would never endanger my life with Alys in that manner.

  Besides, the curse was fading, and I was there to help. It wasn’t like I was pronouncing a death sentence on the elf. Nelaeryn and any future children she might have would be safe, so long as I was there to render assistance.

  I sighed and rubbed my forehead as annoyance coursed through me.

  I didn’t feel guilty over this decision. Not at all. While I was willing to assist people if I could, I didn’t exactly feel a compulsion to do so. I had promised to help Nelaeryn, and that was enough.

  What did make me feel mildly guilty was Alys’ potential reaction to my decision.

  I could just fail to mention the topic, or I could redirect my account of the meeting to avoid anything more than an acknowledgement of the curse. To my frustration, however, I didn’t want to do either of those things.

  Deception, though not as bad as outright lying, was a horrible basis for any relationship. As such, I would lay all the facts out and try to convince her to see things my way. If she refused… well, I would deal with that problem when it was spitting fire in my face.

  Thankfully, it was still very early in the day. At least I didn’t need to confront these fears for several more hours.

  Perhaps it was unwise to delay. But I was a fae! We were quite adept at ignoring problems until they either went away or died of old age. Historians had probably lost count of the number of ‘troublesome’ kingdoms my Court had outlived.

  ‘My’ Court…

  That was another point. I kept referring to the Autumn Court as if I were still a legitimate member of it. Which I technically was, I suppose.

  I would be until Oberon officially and openly exiled me.

  If he had done so already, I would have felt it, right in the core of my being. Being a creature of the Autumn Court was an indelible part of me. And while I’d been ready for it when I first escaped months ago, I knew I wouldn’t enjoy having that stripped away from me.

  All immortal species had their own centers of identity. Dragons had their hearts. Nymphs had their trees.

  Fae had our stories. Our history.

  The older a fae was, the stronger they became. It wasn’t impossible to grow our magical and physical strength intentionally with training, but even the most indolent of fae would find their power growing with age.

  As our personal stories grew older, weightier, and more relevant to the world at large, it became more difficult to defeat, hurt, or kill us. If someone did manage to kill one of the Seasons, for example, and that would be a hefty task indeed, the death would not last. That Season would eventually return, no worse for wear. Far less powerful fae had proven as much.

  That’s why so many fae preferred to act like some unfathomable force of nature. If a fae could do something grand and instill the very fear of their existence into the minds of their ‘inferiors’, that fae would grow from it. The legends of a fae’s invincibility actually became more true as more people believed them.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  Of course, such power wasn’t free. A fae’s story changed them as much as it strengthened them. The process was slow and insidious, built on small changes that added up over time.

  The easiest way to observe this effect was through the Court that had made the most use of this method of growth: Winter.

  The Winter Court had cultivated its power by cultivating a bloody, terror-filled legend. Haunting the streets and slaughtering people in the night had helped them to develop all sorts of interesting and deadly skills. Walking through shadows, stalking prey no matter where they tried to flee… though a Winter fae had to fulfill certain requirements in order to trigger these abilities, the abilities were accessible, simply because they were thematically relevant to Winter’s story.

  Yet in the same timeframe it took a fae to develop these powers, that fae would find themselves turning crueler and more inclined towards solving problems through force and murder. They might even experience their positive emotions growing duller.

  The Winter Court had no qualms with any of that. Their Wild Hunts struck fear into the hearts of all mortal nations. Their cruelty was renowned the world over. The Court’s legend was so ingrained in the minds of mortals that Winter fae grew powerful by sheer virtue of being born within the Court.

  I thought of Kiri. While she had clearly inherited a great deal of power, her face was barely capable of displaying subtle emotions. I doubted she would ever smile fully. I didn’t even know if she could cry, no matter how sorrowful she felt. It was a coin toss for fae from the Winter Court on whether or not they could produce tears.

  That was why most fae were careful with the stories they allowed to spread about themselves.

  It was also why I knew our species as a whole would never be completely aligned with pure ‘goodness.’ Everyone knew how dangerous the fae could be, how fickle our tempers were, and how easily we could turn on someone for a perceived slight. Those ideas were part of our story as a species, and therefore, they affected our fundamental personalities.

  This was the downside to being so deeply entwined with nature, a downside that elves and similar species never had to deal with. Fae were creatures of the deep magic, and our very existence answered to it. Seeing as that same magic was inextricably entwined with the collective conscious of all living creatures, we didn’t always get to choose what we were.

  This also explained why ‘common’ fae were much easier to get along with. They were a result of fae producing children with the ‘lesser’ species, species much more grounded in physical reality. This difference was physically apparent. Changing my hair and eye color had helped me to pass as a common fae, after all.

  Most fae saw these offspring’s ‘muddled’ features as a desecration of our nature. Still, common fae suffered none of the personality shifts brought about by the influence of their fae parent’s story, no matter which Court they originated from. They could not benefit from the story, either, but this seemed a reasonable price to pay for avoiding the admittedly callous mentality of most fae.

  I still wasn’t quite sure why or how I had developed some level of empathy. I’d simply felt a shift one day as a teenager, after my family’s training had required me to kill one of our butlers. Yet I was still a fae. I would never compare my outlook to that of a human, or even a dragon.

  I had just wanted something different. I’d been drawn to something different. In my eyes, death, poison, and the scheming I’d been expected to engage in were simply so inferior when compared to creation, life, and actually finding happiness of my own.

  Speaking of happiness…

  I finally forced my mind to focus on the current moment as I stepped off of the much improved bridge and onto what I was starting to think of as Alys’ and my land. A deliciously pleased tingle ran down my spine at the thought, and I started walking a little faster. The chance of a glimpse of her before I started working was much nicer than the prospect of not seeing her the entire day.

  I did get one such glimpse. As I started setting up my tent, I spotted her emerging from the earth, shovel in hand. I couldn’t gauge how deep she’d already dug into the foundation she was planning to establish for my house, but she was clearly making short work of it.

  She noticed me and waved, then returned her attention to the waterskin she’d placed by the hole’s edge. Downing the rest of its contents, she vanished back into the earth to continue digging.

  I quickly finished setting up my tent. Then I, too, proceeded to get to work.

  I considered starting on some potions Nelaeryn could take during the birth itself, but I quickly dismissed that idea. Those would take a long while to get right. Months, possibly.

  I was thankful we had struck the deal during her early stages of pregnancy. Not only would I be able to track the effects of the curse on her much more easily, but I also had time to adjust the strength of the healing items and supplements I’d be giving her.

  More immediately, I guessed that the curse could make it much more likely for her to get sick during pregnancy. As such, my priority was to strengthen her immune system. The candies would do some great work in that regard, but I had promised to keep this woman alive. I wasn’t willing to bet her life on sweets, no matter how potent they may be.

  Thankfully, the kappa were a gift that kept giving. I still had bits of liver and a whole kidney. I also had a decent idea of what to do with these materials, thanks to all the antidotes I’d made over the course of my training.

  There was a very thin line between plagues and virulent poisons, and my family’s craft butchered that line before doing a merry little jig on it.

  I’d even concocted some potent immunization potions during my training, but unfortunately, they were fairly specific in their application. I had made each one as part of an antidote for a different plague-bearing poison. The Belladonnas relished the practice of incorporating deadly diseases into their poisons, just in case the target managed to neutralize the more immediate threats.

  What I needed now was a general strengthening of Nelaeryn’s immune system, hopefully on a permanent basis… and that meant a bit of experimentation.

  I grinned outright at the thought of how useful such a potion would be. If everyone in Swiftband took it, that would massively decrease the risk of plague outbreaks, not to mention keeping people much healthier in general.

  I made a mental note to ask Alys about illnesses and diseases that targeted dragons, and draconians in particular. I wasn’t in a rush there, but eliminating any threats to her health before they could ever materialize appealed to me. Strongly.

  That was something to tackle in the future, though. For the time being, I had my ingredients, and I knew what I wanted to achieve.

  All that remained was to start!