11. Finn

ELEVEN

Finn

T he salty sea breeze whips through my hair as I lead our group along the shoreline. Yarrow walks beside me, his eyes constantly scanning the horizon for any sign of danger. Behind us, a long line of Shadowkind fae trudge through the sand. They do not know whether they want to be here or not, but soon they will understand what it is I am offering them.

"You sure about this, Finn?" Yarrow mutters, his voice barely audible over the crashing waves.

I nod, keeping my eyes fixed on the cliffs ahead. "I have never been so sure of anything in my life." I turn to him and grin. "And you, my friend, will be the first to experience the power and the joy that is to come."

As we approach the towering cliffs, I spot the white, broken-away section of the cliff.

I don't know why I felt that this was the fitting place for our transformation. It is not a Shadowkind haunt; it belonged to the elves for centuries until they abandoned their care of it and decided to become keepers of secrets and lies in a very different way.

Perhaps it is because this is where I found the answers I had been looking for. Perhaps it is because it holds an ancient energy in its walls. Perhaps I just like old books.

"There." I point out the cave entrance to Yarrow. He nods, then turns to relay instructions to the others.

I pause at the mouth of the cave, allowing my eyes to adjust to the darkness within. The air feels heavy, charged with that familiar elvish energy. "Everyone stay close," I call out.

We move deeper into the cave, the sound of our footsteps echoing off the damp walls. The farther we go, the more the darkness seems to press in around us. I can hear the nervous whispers of the Shadowkind behind me, their fear palpable in the enclosed space.

Finally, we reach the underground pool. Its surface is like black glass, reflecting nothing but more darkness.

"What now?" Yarrow asks, eyeing the water suspiciously.

I take a deep breath and turn to him, my red eyes glowing in the darkness. "We swim." I gesture to the pool. "You first, my friend."

For the first time since I returned to the camp, Yarrow hesitates. But then he steels himself, sets his jaw in a determined line, and dives in without a second thought.

"Who is next?" I turn to the others.

No one speaks. No one wants to be the next to volunteer.

"You think I would bring you all the way here to end your lives in a dark, dank cave? I would have killed you in the forest if that was my intention." I jerk the arm of the fae closest to me and, without hesitating, throw her into the pool.

Then I unleash the shadows. They form a solid wall behind the group and start to gently nudge them forward.

They move with slow, petrified feet. And as each one reaches me, I am forced to hurl them in.

When the last one is gone, disappearing with a gasp and a splash, I inhale deeply. The scent of the damp cave fills my nostrils. Sea air, and freedom.

Then, I dive into the pool after them.

The cold hits me like a physical blow, driving the air from my lungs. I kick downwards, pushing through the inky blackness. Just when I think my lungs might burst, I feel it – a strange current, pulling me forward.

I'm engulfed in a blinding purple light. I squeeze my eyes shut, disoriented. When I open them again, I find myself standing in the same circular room that gave me what I never thought was possible.

The truth.

With towering bookshelves that stretch up into shadows, it is a place of calm and quiet.

The others seem more relaxed standing here, as if they are surprised I brought them somewhere so beautiful.

"By the stars," Yarrow breathes. "It's real. The Elven Archives?"

I nod. "It's real, my friend. And this is where I found the truth about our kind."

I stride over to the small table near the centre of the room. On its surface lies a single book, bound in deep blue leather.

I lay my hands on its cover and breathe in the memory of the words that lie within. "Do you know what this text is?" I ask, looking up at the watching crowd. Just twenty of them.

Twenty Shadowkind to begin to revolution.

What a delicious thought.

No one answers me.

"This text is called The Rise and Fall of the Shadowkind ," I read aloud. " A Treatise on the Darkest Chapter of Our History ."

Yarrow appears at my shoulder, peering down at the text. "What does it say?"

A hush falls over the library and now, in this moment, it is as if the others have forgotten that I have changed.

They don't see my new face or my glowing eyes.

They trust me.

They gather around, hanging on my every word as I begin to read to them.

"In the ancient annals of our kingdom, there exists a race of fae known as the Shadowkind. Born with wings as dark as night and hearts to match, these creatures were once the scourge of our realm, their very existence a blight upon the land.

"It is said that in the early days, the Shadowkind lived amongst the other fae, their true nature hidden beneath a veneer of civility. But as they reached the age of fifty, a strange and terrible transformation would occur. Their wings, once small and unremarkable, would grow and mature, becoming vast and powerful. And with this physical change came a darkness of the soul, a corruption that twisted their very being.

"The Shadowkind were beings of pure evil, their magic fuelled by the shadows that clung to their wings. They rampaged across the kingdom, spreading terror and destruction wherever they went. The other fae, the Leafborne, the Mountainside, and Waterweavers, lived in constant fear, never knowing when the next attack would come.

"In those dark days, the Sunborne lived apart, sequestered in their citadel like monks in a monastery. They were the guardians of light and, along with the elves, the keepers of ancient knowledge. But they did not interfere in the affairs of the outside world. And so, for generations, the kingdom suffered under the reign of shadows.

"Until a hero arose from among the Sunborne. The first of the line that would become known as the Lords and Ladies of Luminael. This brave and noble fae, whose name has been lost to history, looked upon the suffering of the kingdom and knew that something had to be done.

"With a small but devoted band of followers, he ventured forth from the citadel and took the fight to the Shadowkind. The war that followed was long and brutal, the forces of light and darkness clashing in a conflict that threatened to tear the very fabric of the world asunder.

"But in the end, the Sunborne prevailed. The Shadowkind were defeated, their armies scattered, their power broken. But the hero knew this was not enough. As long as the Shadowkind's wings remained unbound, as long as their dark magic was allowed to flourish, the kingdom would never truly be safe.

"And so, a practice began. The Shadowkind, now subjugated and enslaved, had their wings bound as soon as they fledged. Tight, constricting ropes that prevented their wings from ever reaching maturity, and therefore from ever unleashing the evil that lurked within.

"This practice has continued for thousands of years, handed down from generation to generation of Sunborne rulers. It is a necessary cruelty, a harsh but vital measure to ensure the safety and prosperity of the kingdom. For without the bindings, the Shadowkind would rise again. Their dark magic would return, and the realm would once more be plunged into an age of terror and despair.

"This is the truth of our history, the dark secret that underlies the very foundation of our society. It is a heavy burden, a grim responsibility. But it is one the Sunborne, the descendants of that first great hero, must bear.

"For the sake of the kingdom, for the sake of all fae, the Shadowkind must remain bound. Their wings must never be allowed to spread. And those with shadow magic must beware; for if the magic of shadows is used on a bound fae, their power will be unleashed. Their demon form will rise. This is the curse of the bindings."

I close the book and wait while silence quivers in the air.

When I look up, several of the Shadowkind are crying.

A few others are shaking their heads, steely determination forming in their gazes.

In a gentle, soothing tone, I begin to speak once more. "For too long, we've lived in chains. But now we know the truth."

I hold the book up, my voice rising with passion. "This is our true history. And with it, we'll rewrite our future. We'll reclaim our power, our heritage. We'll show the Sunborne – show all of Luminael – what we truly are. I have already stolen Eldrion's power from him."

From the darkness between the bookcases, shadows creep free.

"And now I will give you some of that same power. I will unleash what is inside you all, so we can be truly free. Forever."

The library erupts in cheers, the sound echoing off the ancient walls. As I look out at the sea of faces, I see hope blazing in their eyes. Hope, and something darker. Something powerful.

From the front of the crowd, Yarrow raises his voice. "Hail Finn!" he cries, turning and gesturing for the others to join in. His voice booms into the air, so loud it causes a flutter of dust to drift into the air. "Hail the Shadow King!"

For a moment, the other Shadowkind seem stunned. But then, slowly, they take up the chant. "Hail Finn! Hail the Shadow King!"

Triumph surges inside me. This is what I was born for, what I was always meant to be. A leader. The one who will reshape the world in his own dark image.

"Yes," I say, my voice rising above the chanting. "Together, we will build a new kingdom. An empire of shadow and darkness, where the strong rule and the weak perish."

The Shadowkind roar their approval, their eyes gleaming with a newfound sense of purpose and destiny.

The Age of Shadow has begun, and I will be its king.

"So," I roar. "Who will be the first to embrace their destiny?"