Mabli (Book 7.5 of The Land of the Forgotten Series)

Over Three Thousand Years Ago

Tir Anghofi

Immortality had once seemed like a blessing. A thing of wonder. A promise of endless tomorrows.

But endless tomorrows also meant endless remembering.

And some memories never lost their sharp edges.

The Fae had always been fierce creatures. They were passionate, powerful, and far too quick to spill blood when pride or anger took hold. For centuries, their conflicts had simmered and flared, rivalries growing deeper, grievances festering across generations.

Until at last Branwen Baudelaire had foreseen what awaited them. Not peace. Not prosperity.

Extinction.

Branwen had gathered her family in the great hall, her expression grave. She had seen the future. Seen the wars that would come. Seen the slaughter that would follow. Seen a world where the Fae destroyed themselves with their own hands. And she had chosen to stop it.

What had begun as research of ancient texts, forbidden magic, and relics that had not been touched in centuries had slowly revealed a truth none of them had been prepared for.

The spell that could save their people would not come without a cost. A terrible one. Someone’s life. Branwen’s life.

Both Aeres and her sister, Mabli, had fought her with everything they had. They had argued, pleaded, and even begged her to find another way.

There had to be another way. There always was.

But Branwen had been resolute and unyielding.

And when their mother made up her mind about something, the world itself could not move her.

“It is a price that must be paid for the good of our people,” Branwen had said, her voice calm despite the storm it unleashed within them. “Your father and I shaped this realm so that the Fae might have a home of their own. If it is to endure, the cost must be borne.”

Their father had stood beside Branwen as he always had, his hand resting lightly over hers, their fingers intertwined as though they had never known a moment apart.

Taran had listened as the spell was explained, as the ancient magic revealed its terrible demand. Only one life was required. Only one sacrifice.

He had been the first to speak. “Then it will be mine.” The words had fallen into the chamber like stones into still water.

Aeres breath caught.

Mabli turned sharply toward him, disbelief written plainly across her face.

But Branwen had only softly smiled at him. “You know that is not possible,” she had murmured.

Their bond was older than the realm itself. They were soulbonded, and it was unbreakable. The kind of love sung about in ancient ballads and whispered of in reverent tones. Neither of them could truly live without the other.

Taran had known it the moment the words left his mouth. Still, he had tried.

But Branwen had reached up then, touching his cheek with a tenderness that made Aeres’ chest ache even now. “If one of us falls, the other will suffer,” she had said gently. “You know this as well as I do.”

Silence had filled the hall after that. Heavy and unavoidable.

And so they had made their decision. Though the magic demanded only one life, they would give two, while Aeres and Mabli fought them with everything they had.

They argued until their voices grew hoarse. Pleaded until tears blurred their vision, because surely there was another path. Another spell. Another sacrifice.

But their parents had already made their choice. Branwen and Taran had lived for centuries. They had ruled, loved, and built a realm from wild magic and empty land. And now they would give their lives to preserve it.

“We have walked this world for many long years,” Taran had said quietly at last, his gaze soft as it moved between his daughters. “It is your time now.” His voice had held no fear. Only pride. “You will rule together,” he continued, a faint smile touching his lips. “And you will make this realm stronger than we ever could.”

At last, the day came.

Aeres had hoped, foolishly perhaps, that something might delay it. That some forgotten answer would appear in the final hours, that the ancient magic itself might reveal another path. But the sun had risen all the same.

And with it came the end.

They gathered before the castle, where the wide stone courtyard overlooked the sweeping valleys of their realm. The morning air was cool and still, the sky painted in pale gold as dawn crept slowly over the horizon. It felt wrong that the world looked so beautiful on a day like this.

Aeres stood beside Carwyn, her mate’s presence solid and steady at her side, though even his hand wrapped around hers could not quiet the turmoil twisting in her chest.

Nearby, Mabli stood with her mate, Maelgwn, her fingers tightly interlaced with his as though she feared letting go even for a moment.

Across from them stood their parents. Branwen and Taran Baudelaire. The rulers who had shaped this realm from untamed magic. The parents who had given them everything.

Branwen stepped forward first. Her gaze lingered on Aeres with a tenderness that felt almost unbearable. “Aeres,” she said softly.

She reached out then, brushing a stray strand of golden hair from her daughter’s face just as she had done countless times throughout the centuries.

The simple gesture made Aeres’ throat tighten.

“Be gentle with your sister,” Branwen murmured. “Her heart burns brighter than most, and the fire within her will not always be easy to guide.”

Aeres swallowed and nodded faintly. “I will.”

Branwen studied her for a moment longer, those ancient knowing eyes seeming to look far beyond the present. “And you must not abandon the vision that has taken root within you.”

Aeres blinked, surprised.

“You know the one I speak of.”

Creatures born of magic who might one day stand beside the Fae rather than against them. The thought had come to her only recently, a fragile idea she had barely spoken aloud. Yet of course her mother would know. Branwen always knew.

“It will bring balance to this realm,” Branwen continued quietly. “A balance that will be needed in the years to come.”

Aeres felt a chill ripple through her.

Then Branwen’s expression softened further. “And when the time comes,” she added, “do not turn your heart against Caden. He will grow into a worthy male.”

Confusion flickered across Aeres’ face. “Caden?” The name meant nothing to her. Yet the certainty in Branwen’s voice left no room for doubt. Aeres hesitated before nodding slowly. “As you wish.”

Branwen smiled faintly.

Aeres stepped back then, drawing in a quiet breath as unease settled in the pit of her stomach. Her mother’s visions were never without purpose. If Branwen had spoken the name, it meant the future would one day place this Caden before her. The thought filled her with a strange, unshakable foreboding.

Still, she forced the feeling aside.

Perhaps it was nothing more than the anxious imaginings of a daughter about to lose her parents. And perhaps, she told herself, the warning had simply been a mother’s gentle reminder.

Aeres loved Mabli more than anything in this world. Her sister was wild where Aeres was measured. Fierce where she was careful. But together they had always been stronger. Two halves of the same whole. And that, Aeres hoped, would never change.

Carwyn’s arms slipped around Aeres from behind, drawing her gently back against the solid warmth of his chest. His embrace was firm and steady. An anchor in the storm that threatened to swallow her whole.

He lowered his head and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. A silent promise. He would not let her face the coming grief alone.

In the weeks since the coronation, Carwyn had been her strength more times than she could count. When the crown had been placed upon their heads and the weight of the realm settled upon their shoulders, it had felt impossibly heavy. But he had never faltered.

When she spoke of her idea of creating new magical beings, creatures who might one day live beside the Fae in harmony rather than conflict, he had not dismissed it as folly. Instead, he had embraced it and encouraged it.

He had spent long nights beside her in the library, poring over ancient texts and forgotten spells, helping her test theories and explore possibilities that few would dare consider.

Even now, as sorrow loomed before them, his presence remained unshakable.

Aeres leaned into him for a brief moment before forcing herself to look forward again.

Across from them, Mabli stepped into their mother’s waiting arms.

Branwen drew her close at once, holding her tightly, one hand resting gently against the back of her dark hair as though committing the moment to memory. “My beautiful girl,” Branwen murmured softly.

Mabli clung to her, her shoulders trembling ever so slightly.

“You must be brave,” Branwen continued, her voice tender but steady. “And you must not allow your heart to be ruled by its fiercest storms.”

Mabli frowned faintly against her shoulder.

“There will come a time when forgiveness will be asked of you,” Branwen said quietly. “When it does, you must grant it freely. Especially to those who matter most.”

Mabli pulled back slightly, confusion clouding her eyes.

“And when that moment arrives,” Branwen added, brushing her thumb gently across her daughter’s cheek, “you must release the bitterness you carry. Do not allow it to harden your heart.” She studied Mabli for a long moment, her gaze filled with a strange mixture of sorrow and hope. “You must be willing to take the chance that fate offers you.”

Mabli blinked, clearly uncertain what her mother meant, but she nodded all the same. “I will try.” She began to step back, but Branwen caught her wrist lightly.

Then she extended her other hand toward Aeres.

Aeres hesitated only a moment before stepping forward.

Branwen drew them both into her arms, holding her daughters close, and pressing a kiss to each of their temples. “I love you both more than words could ever hold,” she whispered. Her voice wavered only slightly. “The path before you will not be easy. Each of you will face trials that will test the very core of who you are.”

Her arms tightened briefly around them. “But you are stronger than you know.” She leaned back just enough to look at them both. “Stand firm. Stand together.” She released them slowly.

Aeres felt the loss of her mother’s warmth immediately.

Taran stepped forward next. Their father gathered them both into his arms without hesitation, his broad shoulders surrounding them in a familiar, comforting embrace. “I love you two beyond measure,” he said quietly.

His voice was calm, though Aeres could hear the thickness beneath it. “Care for one another,” he added. “That is all I ask.”

Both daughters held him tightly, as though trying to cling to the moment for just a little longer. But time did not pause for grief.

At last, they stepped back.

Aeres returned to Carwyn’s arms.

Mabli moved back into Maelgwn’s embrace.

And then, without another word, Branwen and Taran turned away. Side by side. Just as they had stood for centuries.

They began to walk across the courtyard, their steps slow but unwavering. Neither of them looked back.