“But nowhere, Padric…nowhere does the Magic of the Fae hold such sway as here, trapping the land in this perpetual season, ever-dying. They claim rule over this island, these immortals, but we are abandoned, left to defend ourselves as best we may amongst enmities forged thousands of years before our most distant ancestors were born. Once long ago, a handful of mortals dared to rise against this mysterious Seelie Court. It was men who marshaled the goblins and overthrew the elves. They were wicked men for certain, dabbling in dark sorcery never intended for mortal hands and eventually they were laid low, but their betrayal…their boldness is remembered and cursed by the Fae-folk to this day. Do you think they do not hate us for that? Do you think we are not attacked at night, murdered by changelings in vengeance for the actions of those long dead warlocks who defied them?

“These Red Caps would see the heirs of those men restored to power, but the rest of us are fit for nothing but slavery and slaughter. Fae-folk are powerful. They can change their skins, wield the elements as weapons and they feel no disease or infirmity. They are stronger, faster, wiser and keener than even the best warrior born to a mortal mother. But there is a weakness…a single gift that we might harness to protect ourselves. Iron is poison to them and it is only that discovery that has saved mortal-kind. The dwarves have smelted a stronger metal and they peddle it across the Tin Isles, trading to mortal and Fae alike, but you will find no weapons of steel in the hands of my men. It is with iron that we place our trust, for there is more need of it now than ever.

“I told Brogan as much many times, but he would not hear me. He would not see that living amongst the Fae was folly at its most deadly, for even those immortals that claim friendship are hated and hunted by those of their kind who would rid the world of humanity. I could not threaten the safety of those already under my care by tending to those blinded by Faery magic, so I withdrew my men from the Wallow.”

Padric listened as the Thegn spoke with passion and watched as the shame of his decision settled over him. Kederic stood on his wall and looked to the horizon, eyes narrowed against the wind, jaw set in contemplation.