Crown of Silver || Crown of Glass

Moontouched

Day was no place for a Moontouched elf.

The first breath of morning set green spring aglow. Dew sparkled on young grass, on the first blooms. Leaves unfurled to await sunshine, while the delicate petals of night flowers twisted themselves into the shadow. It was soft and golden and warm.

And forbidden.

That the Moon Council had chosen to meet after dawn's break should have signaled the gravity of their discussion, but Elaire—too full of wonder and excitement—had ignored the creeping tendrils of intuition. She had assumed the council met to discuss the peace treaty with Tahj'ri. How could they not? Every whisper in Songhaven mentioned their winged enemy camped outside forest's border. Every elf prayed that this might finally end of centuries of war.

It was not until the the seven council members carefully arranged themselves around the silver-spun table that the flutter of anticipation stilled. They removed their ceremonial hoods to reveal identical expressions. A slight downturn of the lips, a faint furrow in the brow. Dread had bloomed in Elaire's chest. The expressions were as close to a grimace as Moontouched elves could muster.

She fought to keep her own face as calm and untouched as the coopery tang of nausea crept up her throat. If she managed to survive the morning without retching into her lap, Elaire promised all the spirits in the heavens that she would never argue with her tutors again. She would never question their lessons or laugh at their chiding. It wasn't that she meant to be difficult. What came so naturally to other Moontouched elves was constant struggle for her. In effort to hide another of her many failings, Elaire had claimed she would never have need for perfect, unflinching stoicism.

If only her haughty assertions had been true.

Not that extra practice would have helped her. When the High Lord of the Silverlight had invited her to join the meeting, she had not expected the council to so plainly discuss her death.

And yet, veiled in the secrecy of golden dawn, Elaire knew that was exactly what they deliberated.

"This is our chance to end centuries of bloodshed. This is a small price to pay for peace."

Elaire could not blame the Lord of Ilra of the Shadowbow for his opinion. In the growing light of morning, he looked far older than any elf had right to. It did not matter that he had once delighted in war, that he had championed any excuse for slaughter. Regret cooled the rage of battle. The mourning song for his son had already haunted their halls for three moonspans and would likely echo in collective memory for the next hundred years.

Elaire could almost ignore the irony. The loss of a child was unbearable to the Moontouched elves, but her loss would mean little to the lords and ladies whose reflections danced in the mirrored surface of the table.

Oh, they had not yet mentioned her name, but Elaire knew that it was soon to come.

For it would have to be her, Elaire reasoned. Certain disappointment somewhat tempered her growing fear. A small price. Who else would they so readily abandon? Who else was made to be such perfect sacrifice?

Heat threatened to stain her cheeks. When the High Lord of the Silverlight had invited her to council meeting, Elaire had flushed with surprised pleasure. It had been weeks since he'd acknowledged her existence, but he had finally looked into her face and softened. He had complimented her progress in her lessons. He had looked past the stain of her mother's imperfections and had finally seen her. She knew it in the very marrow of her bones, down to the pit of her stomach. His polite invitation to join him had sung with promise.

It was only now that Elaire recognized the siren song for what it was.

"Madness," Lady Ivayne of the Silverdawn said. Though her voice was barely more than whisper, her frank outrage settled over the table. Elaire did not let the outcry inspire hope. It was expected for Silverdawn to counter Shadowbow: centuries of opposition promised it. Elaire was surprised, however, when a few voices murmured in agreement.