Felara glared down at the shimmering, rainbow dome of magical energy from a great height. A scowl marred her otherwise flawless pale and angular features.
No one could see her, of course, even if they had bothered to look. Her own magic made sure of that. The Light Elves’ ancient forest that lay beneath the shield also housed winged Sky Elves, who might become suspicious if they caught her lurking about. Her violet eyes narrowed as she stared at the golden and silver accented treetops that were barely visible beneath the curtain of light.
Iarion was somewhere down there.
A cold wind that smelled of rain to come stirred her straight, silver hair around her chin and pointed ears as she continued to float in midair. She always knew exactly where Iarion was—except for when he was inside Melaquenya. The shield that protected the Light Elves’ wood also blocked her own magic. Her scowl deepened.
She had lost track of how much time had passed since she and Iarion had first met. After all, what was time to one of the Unborn? She had spent much of that time befriending the legendary Light Elf—showing up to visit him whenever he wandered beyond the borders of the forest, but only when it suited her. She sniffed.
No need to make him think she was hanging around, waiting for him to summon her…
Felara knew she was in danger of becoming obsessed. Some might even argue she had crossed that boundary some time ago (her tedious sister being one of them).
But she had reasons of her own for taking interest in Iarion, and she cared little for the opinions of others, even her own Unborn cousins and siblings. If they were too foolish to see the significance of Iarion’s continual interference in the fate of Lasniniar, then that was their problem.
Before Iarion had come along, Felara and her kind had been locked away beyond the Void. Now, for the first time in millennia, they were finally free.
Not that any of them were grateful to him for it.
No, the Unborn saw freedom as their right. And it was of no interest to them how that freedom had come about. Iarion was nothing in their eyes—a mere insect, like any of the other people of Lasniniar.
That was what they told themselves, anyway—for the time being, at least.
Felara knew her own kind well enough to realize that would eventually change. And the brief glimpses she had observed of the potential future only confirmed her suspicions.
She drew her gaze from Melaquenya with obvious reluctance. If she wanted to out-maneuver her cousins and siblings and turn things to her own advantage, she would have to become more of a presence in Lasniniar.
…Which meant she needed more power.
She had her own magic, of course. Like any of the Unborn, it was a part of her. But her ability to affect the outside world was limited. No, something greater would be needed for what she had in mind.
What I need is to become a goddess.
* * *
Felara tapped her chin with a pale, slender finger as she considered the problem. A hawk shrieked somewhere in the distance. The smell of rain was stronger now. Clouds rolled in from the east, carrying the salty tang of the sea with them and casting the land below in shadow. A part of her infinitely complex mind took note of all of these things as she continued to focus on the matter at hand.
Yes, it was definitely time for her to make her move toward
