Aurelia Brightwing's Arc

Chapter 1 of 1

Aurelia Brightwing woke to a lost fawn crying outside her burrow. The little one had circled the wildflowers all night, unable to find its den. She knelt in the doorway and steadied it, but she already knew the cause. The heart-tree was fading. Its magic once guided every creature home, and now that magic was slipping away. Aurelia had spent weeks helping strays like this one. Guiding them was not enough. She had to reach the tree itself. The problem was simple and cruel. Aurelia had never stood near the heart-tree in her life. It grew deep in the oldest part of the forest, past ground no fairy walked anymore. She could feel it fading from far off, like a warm hearth going cold. But feeling was not seeing. She could not name what drained it if she never looked at it up close. Her firefly landed on her shoulder, its body glowing green and pink. "I know," she told it. "We can't fix what we can't find." The tiny creature pulsed brighter, as if arguing back. Aurelia smiled. She lifted her lantern from its hook. The glass was cut into butterfly wings, and its light dimmed or flared wherever magic bled from the land. It had never failed to point her toward trouble. Aurelia carried the lantern and set out. The firefly flew ahead. For a long while the light held steady. Then the trees grew older and closer together. The lantern flickered. She turned toward the flicker and walked faster. With every step the flame sank lower, pulled toward something she could not yet see. The forest opened into a clearing, and there stood the heart-tree at last. Its bark was gray. Half its leaves had fallen. Aurelia's breath caught. She had imagined a giant crowned in gold. Instead she found a dying thing. Her lantern guttered until only a thread of light remained, straining toward the roots. She followed that thread and knelt. The firefly darted to the base of the trunk and hovered, glowing hard. Aurelia pushed aside the dead leaves. Beneath them, thick black roots wrapped the heart-tree's own roots and squeezed. They were not part of the tree. Something had crept in from below and clamped down like a fist. Where the black roots touched, the bark had turned to ash. Aurelia pressed her palm to the strangling coil. It was cold and hard as stone. She traced it back through the soil. It ran off into the dark, toward whatever had sent it. Now she knew the truth. The heart-tree was not simply old. It was being fed upon. She sat back on her heels. She had her answer, and it was worse than the question. Cutting one root would not save the tree. She had to find where these roots began. And she had a cold feeling that something was waiting at the other end.