Nicknames can be powerful. The Golden King persona serves me well, and coining the name Witch Queen for Laurel is one of my proudest accomplishments. Even those suspicious of me, like Queen Lobelia, still somewhat believe that Laurel practices the witchcraft of blood magic, not realizing it is I who seeded those beliefs. The people of the primarily human kingdom of Reshnar are absolutely terrified of the Witch Queen and her dark magic thanks to my stories about her, and all the commoners in Velmara fear what she might do to their children if unleashed.

I gave Laurel that moniker before the Battle of Moormyr as a way to justify the invasion of Thayaria. But it really took hold when Laurel released a wave of power so strong it was felt even in the Nivan Desert, every single Velmaran soldier, myself included, killed or aerstepped from Thayaria. The death toll had been in the thousands, sealing her fate as the blood-curdling Witch Queen.

People, human and fae alike, are so easy to manipulate. Just pull the right strings, suggest the right messages at the right time, and they’ll believe anything. Even easier is getting them to forget their history. For if the people of this world remembered its history, they would know that it’s impossible for Laurel to have used blood magic that day, or any day, for that matter.

Hawthorne

The least understood of the conduits for magic is that of air. Some aspects of air channeling, like wind manipulation and levitation, are easy to grasp; however, the more complex aspects of air channeling, such as aerstepping, have confused scholars for centuries. Some scholars have even gone as far as to suggest there is a separate conduit for the aether that aersteppers use—space. Since not all air channelers can aerstep, the argument makes logical sense to many scholars. These debates have raged for centuries, and the only thing scholars can agree on is that the aether’s mysteries have yet to be fully unraveled.

The Unabridged History of Magical Orders, Volume I

My trunks are packed with all the items I’ll need for an indefinite trip to Thayaria—clothes, weapons, books, and two trunks full of wine. I’m not taking any chances that there isn’t any alcohol in the isolated kingdom. Fionn and Silene are also packed, though they have far fewer trunks than me. We stand together in my chambers, servants hauling our trunks out on wheels. I scan each room of my suite, looking for anything valuable or important I may have left behind. Seeing nothing, I slip the small satchel with my most prized possessions—my mother’s family ring, a dagger that belonged to my mother’s brother, and three letters my mother wrote me as a child, the parchment now worn soft—over my shoulder, steeling myself for what’s to come.