What Lies Beyond the Veil (Of Flesh & Bone, #1)(2)
Royal Guard: The army that works on behalf of the King of Nothrek, ensuring that the Kingdom remains peaceful and compliant with his wishes.
Sidhe: The human-like Fae who are not of the first generations and are less powerful than the Old Gods. Their magic exists, but is far more limited than their older counterparts.
Veil: The magical boundary that separates the human realm of Nothrek from the Fae realm of Alfheimr.
Viniculum: The physical symbol of the Fae Marked. Swirling ink in the color of the Fae’s home court extending from the hand to the shoulder/chest.
Wild Hunt: The group of ghost-like Fae from the Shadow Court that are tasked with tracking down the Fae Marked to return them to their mates in Alfheimr, as well as hunting any who may be deemed enemies to the Fae.
Witches: Immortal beings with powers relating to the elements and celestial bodies; i.e. the Shadow Witches, Lunar Witches, Natural Witches, Water Witches, etc.
HIERARCHY OF THE GODS & FAE
PRIMORDIALS
Khaos: The Primordial of the Void that existed before all creation.
Ilta: The Primordial of the Night
Edrus: The Primordial of Darkness
Zain: Primordial of the Sky
Diell: Primordial of the Day
Ubel: Primordial responsible for the prison of Tartarus Bryn: Primordial of Nature
Oshun: Primordial of the Sea
Gerwyn: Primordial of Love
Aerwyna: Primordial of the Sea Creatures Tempest: Primordial of Storms
Peri: Primordial of the Mountains
Sauda: Primordial of Poisons
Anke: Primordial of Compulsion
Marat: Primordial of Light
Eylam: Primordial of Time
The Fates: Primordial of Destiny
Ahimoth: Primordial of Impending Doom
Old Gods of Note: Aderyn: Goddess of the Harvest & Queen of the Autumn Court.
Alastor: King of the Winter Court and husband to Twyla before his death.
Caldris: God of the Dead.
Jonab: God of Changing Seasons. Killed during the First Fae War.
Kahlo: God of Beasts & King of the Autumn Court.
Mab: Queen of the Shadow Court. Known mainly as the Queen of Air & Darkness. Sister to Rheaghan (King of the Summer Court).
Rheaghan: God of the Sun & King of the Summer Court. Rightful King of the Seelie.
Sephtis: God of the Underworld & King of the Shadow Court.
Shena: Goddess of Plant Life & Queen of the Spring Court.
Tiam: God of Youth & King of the Spring Court.
Twyla: Goddess of the Moon & Queen of the Winter Court. Rightful Queen of the Unseelie.
The Wild Hunt
Sidhe
1
The icy wind of the North whipped through the gardens at the edge of the boundary, blowing toward the shimmering Veil marking where the world ended. Curving and rippling in the breeze, the thin, white barrier extended as far as the eye could see, until it faded into the sparkling sun of autumn.
Blood slid over my skin as I brushed a stray hair away from my face with frozen, aching fingers, and tried to ignore the slick, viscous feeling where it coated the skin at my temple. My hand trembled as I reached back into the twilight berry bush once more, grasping the round, periwinkle berry and carefully maneuvering it through the thorny branches to place it in the basket that hung from my other forearm. Shifting my body to relieve my aching back from the same hunched-over position, day in and day out for weeks, I looked through the branches for the distinctive coloring of the berries that were large enough for a single one to fill my palm.
"Faster, Barlowe," one of the members of the Royal Guard snapped at me, making his rounds as he supervised the harvest. One could never be too careful with the food that grew in the King's Gardens, which Lord Byron would send to the capitol, Ineburn City, to feed the Court through the harsh winter season. Meanwhile, those of us who remained in Mistfell year-round were left to suffer and starve, with only our meager personal gardens to sustain us.
I jolted, expecting the crack of his whip to follow as I shoved my hand into the bush with a wince. The thorns caught the edges of my palm, tearing the skin on the pads of my fingers until the moment when I finally wrapped them around the soft flesh of the berry.
I pulled it back, depositing it gently into the basket and grimacing at the way the ruby of my blood stained the light purple fruit. Lord Byron would make me wash them myself before he sat me on his lap and fed them to me, as if I should be thankful for the gift of his attention and the food that was otherwise forbidden to me.
The thin white scars that covered my hand shone like the web of the arachne when it caught the sunlight, too pale against my skin that was bronzed from working under the sun year after year. I had spent far too many harvests tending to the twilight berries when I displeased Lord Byron. Too many summers harvesting the crops that were considered a delicacy because of the pain the plant wrought on those who sought to pluck them. The last day of the year-end harvest was always the most difficult, and yet it was also the most important to secure the prosperity of the Court, and it drew us to the edge of the Veil like moths to the flame.
Driven there by the Royal Guard, which supervised the garden and worked in tandem with the league of elite Mist Guard who guarded the Veil, people like my brother and I had no other choice. We worked mostly in silence for the long, arduous hours every day, not daring to risk the wrath of the Royal Guard who wanted to return to court before the first frost.