I walk away, not needing to hear our realm’s sordid past, which created a rift that split the society in two, spurred wars, and left far too many Brevalians dead over the centuries.
When I was a kid, I learned about those “filthy, evil Meadowlanders,” and I was taught to hate them early on.
The story was simple, and, as most feuds seem to originate, it came in the form of betrayal and was fueled by retaliation.
Brevala was created by two mated Light Fae who possessed a portion of the meteor stone that had come to earth in roughly 2000 BC. Fae do not marry in the traditional sense, not the way humans do, but they will often commit their lives to each other. Dahlia and Oretell were two such fae, not original fallen angels, but descended millennia before. When the meteor came to earth, they created their dream realm together as a mated couple. After settling their family and extended fae community who lived together in the Earth realm, they used the stone to bestow basic magical powers, which had been stripped when the angels were expelled, back on its inhabitants. More importantly, though, Dahlia and Oretell gave their people something Nimeyah never thought to do for the ones who followed her to Faere.
Wings.
When God sent the angels tumbling to earth, the biggest part of their punishment, the loss of their wings, was the most mourned. But those in Brevala got them back in rich, natural colors of brown, black, white, and gray.
For a few centuries, peace reigned over Brevala as the fae spread out and settled, creating new lineages through procreation. It’s not easy for two Light Fae to conceive, so fae children were celebrated as precious and divinely gifted.
But peace didn’t last long.
Dahlia found out Oretell cheated on her, and, in a moment of rage, she murdered him. Nothing can kill a fae except an iron strike to the heart or the brain, but Dahlia first took his head, then plunged her iron sword through his traitorous heart.
It’s said that the minute she did that, her pearl-gray wings turned the color of rage and fury—crimson red.
Oretell’s brother, Geseph, could not let that go unpunished, so he immediately retaliated by killing Dahlia. Before she drew in her last breath, she sent out her misery, her rage, and a request for justice to her family and supporters, asking them to take up arms and avenge her.
Those loyal whose support stayed true found their wings had turned blood red to match Dahlia’s hate.
Arnus, Dahlia’s brother, vowed to kill the entirety of Geseph’s family.
Geseph, in turn, vowed to slaughter any of Arnus’ supporters on sight.
So started centuries upon centuries of hate, war, and death. Eventually, boundary lines were drawn where Dahlia’s supporters and their descendants settled in the Meadowlands, now with blood-red wings. Geseph and his went to the Bluffs, which were the highland hills at the bottom of the mountain ranges.
I learned of this history when I was given my first sword to practice with at age nine. I was taught to brandish it with strength and precision and told there was never any shame in killing a Meadowlander if they encroached on our land’s border.
Nowadays, there’s an ingrained feeling of hatred for each other. But millennia tended to dull tempers and time made the hurt fade, so these days, there are only minor skirmishes. The last truly violent act occurred when a distant cousin of mine fell in love with a Meadowlander and was caught by Arnus, the woman’s uncle.
My cousin was killed on sight by Arnus’ daughter, Rishka, who shot an iron arrow through his eye. While the female Meadowlander could have been sentenced to death, it was Arnus’ other daughter, Eliana, who hacked off her own cousin’s wings as punishment, upon her father’s command.
Since that time, the blood no longer flowed, and the two clans kept to themselves. No one tried to breach that divide again.
At least not until two weeks ago when I spent several hours fucking Eliana’s brains out in her Seattle condo. I’m quite positive we’re the first Meadowlander and Bluff Dweller to have carnal relations since that bloody incident at Cernian Falls around a thousand years ago. The fact I’m Oretell’s nephew and Eliana is Dahlia’s niece would make it even more abhorrent to Brevalians if they ever found out what we did. It would be considered a betrayal far worse than what had happened between Oretell and Dahlia to begin with.
Of course, Eliana and I had gotten carnal that one other time, but that was in our Roman days, long before the Cernian Falls incident occurred. And that was a fluke… nothing more than a hate fuck after a particularly brutal day battling at the Coliseum. It was wild, savage, and soul-shattering, and we never spoke of it again.
Much like I’m sure Eliana and I will never mention what happened in her condo again.
Yes, life goes on. Generations leave Brevala, like I did. In the Earth realm, we find freedom and autonomy in our choices. Maybe deep down, I was sick of the constant hate and fighting, and it’s why I never return to Brevala for anything other than a quick visit.
I wonder what would happen if someone found out what Eliana and I had done a few weeks ago. It definitely wasn’t ‘the fuck and leave’ moment we had in Rome during the first century BC.
No, what I did was a betrayal to the Bluffs. I voluntarily helped out a Meadowlander, and, even after the deed was long done, I still stuck around and continued to have sex with her. My dick twitches at the memory, and admittedly, I’ve thought about it a lot. All the ways I got her off, the parts of her body I claimed—her ass being especially sweet.
Even after I knew the drug had worn off, I was still driven to make her come again and again. As Light Fae, she had it in her to keep on going and so did I. We could have fucked for eternity and never stopped. The more I think about how damn good it was, the less sure I am about why we stopped.
Oh yeah… because we hate each other.
But do we?
I kissed her, and she kissed me back. That’s a level of intimacy we had not shared during our little sexcapade in Rome. No, that was yelling, punching, clothes being ripped off, and thrusts so hard we knocked bits of stone from the cellars below the Coliseum where we fucked like we had earlier battled.
Our mouths never touched then.
The thought of such an act had been disgusting. We loathed each other, but we were also worked up from our battle in the amphitheater, and our yells and taunts later turned into me trying to dominate her with my cock.
Which I had.
But she dominated me right back.
Damn… and that memory makes my dick twitch, too.
Eliana of the Meadowlands is a fae beyond description. She’s my sworn enemy, yet also the best damn sex I’ve ever had in my life.
And now I’m wondering if I can have it again without also betraying my family at the same time.
CHAPTER 6
Eliana
I may hate Faere and its disingenuous inhabitants, the social snobbery, and the absolutely awful distortion of what nature should look like, but I do love competing in the games. Raised a warrior by Arnus, it’s who I am at my core. While I have found happiness and fulfillment in the modern Earth realm while wearing business suits and pitching ad campaigns, I miss using the fighting skills I learned over millennia.
With there not being much need in the Earth realm of my particular weapon skills, I look forward to the Festival of Creation to knock the rust off my abilities. It’s like an adventure vacation.