Something good and right and real: Chapter 5

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Chapter 5: my best laid plan

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Tartera lived in the mountains surrounding Velaris.

Not unlike Hewn City, a whole world carved from the mountain. Hollowed out, held together by magic. Though, they had done it first.

There were legends of her kind, of the first Tartera fairies being carved from stone itself. Maybe that was why they felt so at ease in the mountain.

Oriana easily admitted that while she could withstand fire like every Tartera, she did like the sun and the fresh air.

Cyrus hated going into the mountain. Probably not helped by the fact that he hated the fire as well.

Still, once a year, for their grandmother's birthday, they went into the mountain, Oriana holding a ball of fire in her palm as they made their way through the entrance, greeting the guards and then walking deeper into the mountain.

It should just be around midday. Lunch promised to be a less formal affair than dinner ever had been, and her grandmother would probably be holding court like she usually did.

Oriana had never actually asked how old her grandmother was. A few millennials maybe?

Her mother was close to 800 years old, after all, her oldest sister was around 600.

Oriana was the youngest just over 200 years of age.

But Cyra, Custodian of the Mountain...well, she was older than all of them.

She could tell stories about things that hadn't happened in centuries, about people long dead, a time before the great war...

Cyra had lived through it all.

Still, their grandmother wasn't the first member of their family that they met. That honour belonged to her brother Samson, a guard member that protected the mountain from...well, anybody that thought that they should get a cut out of the precious metals and gems they mined eyes day. They didn't have many, enchantments and wards kept out...most if not all.

He greeted them with a nod, a dark red cloak wrapped around broad shoulders, fastened with the traditional brooch, which made it obvious to what creed he belonged.

"Cyrus, Oriana," he rumbled, always a man of few words.

"Samson," she responded, having absolutely no qualms about coming up to him and hugging him, even when he never quite hugged her back. He never told her to stop either. And she knew he would do that if it really bothered him. "How has it been?"

"Not much has changed since last year," he responded. "Titania was wondering when you two would finally arrive."

Of course, their oldest sister would wonder. She was the first daughter of the first daughter after all.

It marked her as 2nd in command to the mountains and their realm, if one could call it like that.

They lived under the command of the Night Court but within the mountain, the word of her Grandmother was law.

The word of Adara was law. The word of Titania was law. Then Althea, Titania's eldest daughter...

Then Enya, their middle sister.

It had never needed to go further down the line than that.

Which was good for Oriana, because then it would have been her word that would be listened to, and nobody wanted that.

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