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Outcasts

Kaelen had tried to be the son Altharion wanted. He trained with the sword until his hands were raw, mastered the arcane arts of the stars, and played his part in the court’s endless games of intrigue. He studied the history of the realm, memorized star charts and mastered incantations. But no matter how hard he tried, he could never win his father’s love. And he could never shake the feeling that he was a pawn in someone else’s game, with every move dictated by forces beyond his control.

Kaelen’s relationship with his father reached its breaking point on his twenty-fifth birthday. Altharion, impatient with what he deemed his son’s "weakness," demanded Kaelen execute a traitor to prove his loyalty to the crown. The traitor, however, was not some nameless dissenter but a scholar.

The man, Eryndor, had once been Kaelen’s tutor, a gentle soul who had taught him the constellations and the ancient stories written in their patterns. Eryndor’s crime? Preserving forbidden texts that spoke of a time before Altharion’s reign and preserved the ancient knowledge of their court’s magic..

Kaelen had refused. He could still remember the weight of the blade in his hand, the silence of the court as he lowered it, and the cold fury in his father’s eyes.

Altharion’s fury was a storm that shook the court. Kaelen was stripped of his rank, publicly humiliated, and cast out of the inner sanctum of their kingdom. Though he was not banished outright, his father made it clear that Kaelen would no longer be welcome among the court’s power brokers. He had become, in the eyes of his father and much of their court, a disappointment. He was effectively exiled, cast out into a world that viewed him with equal parts suspicion and pity

Kaelen’s exile, however, was a kind of freedom. No longer bound by the expectations of the throne, he began to explore the other courts of their realm, seeking to understand the world beyond the shadows of his father’s influence. He hoped, perhaps, to find a place where he could belong—or at the very least, a purpose that was his own.

The Autumn Court was the most recent stop on his wandering journey. A place of perpetual twilight and vivid hues, it was ruled by Queen Eliara, a cunning and enigmatic figure who sat upon the Amber Throne. It was a place where alliances shifted like falling leaves, and every word carried the weight of ten unspoken meanings. It was said that even the trees whispered secrets here, their rustling leaves conspiring with the winds to spread gossip.

The court was renowned for its political intrigue, its nobles weaving webs of alliances and betrayals as easily as the leaves turned crimson in the fall. Kaelen, weary of manipulation, had little interest in their games, but he needed supplies for the next leg of his journey and knew how to come and go in the court’s markets without being recognized. He had spent the last few days exploring its outskirts, avoiding the heart of the court and its labyrinthine intrigues.

He had been walking the outskirts of the Autumn Court’s borders when he saw the blur of a silver fall from the sky, hurtling from the heavens as though it had been cast from them.

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The creature had crashed through the branches above him in a flurry of silvery fur and feathers, its descent halting with a poof as it disappeared into a pile of leaves. He gazed in surprise. It was unlike anything he had ever seen, its small, lithe body covered in a downy pelt that shimmered faintly, as though it had been dusted with stardust. Its wings were delicate and birdlike, their feathers tipped with an iridescent sheen. “You’ve had better landings,” Kaelen had murmured softly, gently brushing leaves from where the nympryn was buried.

***

As they continued through the forest, Kaelen couldn’t help but think it appropriate that two starry outcasts had wound up together.

“You know,” Kaelen said, breaking the silence as they walked, “if you’re some kind of celestial messenger, I have to say, your entrance could use some work.”

The nymphryn flicked its tail, feathers along its spine fluffing in what Kaelen could only interpret as indignation. It trilled softly, a sound somewhere between a bird’s call and a cat’s purr, and Kaelen chuckled.

“All right, fair enough. Graceful landings aren’t exactly my specialty either.” He pushed a low-hanging branch out of the way as they continued down the mossy trail. “But seriously, you’ve got to give me something to work with here. A name, a sign, a cryptic prophecy. Anything?”

The nymphryn ignored him, choosing instead to leap onto a nearby rock and begin grooming its feathers. Kaelen sighed, shaking his head. He was used to one-sided conversations—he had been having them with himself for years now—but it didn’t make them any less frustrating.

Despite himself, Kaelen found the creature’s presence comforting. It had been years since he’d had any kind of companion, and even if the nymphryn was more interested in preening than conversing, it was better than the oppressive silence that usually accompanied him.

As they continued down the path, the forest began to change. The trees grew taller and more twisted, their roots snaking across the ground like veins. The air grew cooler, and the amber light deepened, casting long shadows that seemed to dance in the corners of Kaelen’s vision.

“You know,” Kaelen said, glancing at the nymphryn, “if you’re leading me into some kind of trap, I have to warn you—I’m terrible at fighting off ambushes. Ask anyone. It’s practically a hobby of mine to stumble into bad situations.”

The nymphryn tilted its head, its gaze inscrutable, and Kaelen couldn’t help but laugh. It was a dry, self-deprecating sound, but it felt good to break the tension.

“All right, fine. Lead on, oh mysterious one. Let’s see where this road takes us.”

The nymphryn blinked, its gaze steady, and Kaelen felt a strange sense of reassurance. He didn’t know what it was about the creature, but its presence was like a thread of light weaving through the darkness that clung to him. Perhaps, he thought, it had been sent to guide him—or perhaps it was as lost as he was.

Either way, he had a feeling their paths were intertwined now, and for the first time in a long while, Kaelen felt the stirrings of happiness.

With the nymphryn - Astral, as Kaelen had silently began referring to it - at his side, he continued deeper into the Autumn Court, the fading light casting long shadows behind them. Somewhere, the queen’s court awaited, and Kaelen knew it would only be a matter of time before he found himself entangled in its schemes. But for now, he walked on, his gaze fixed on the horizon and his heart guarded but not yet closed.

“The Court’s magic gets more potent the closer we get to the Spire,” Kael explained to the nymphryn, gesturing toward the distant silhouette of a tower. “That’s where they keep the Amber Throne—and where the Queen holds court. We’ll avoid that - too many politics. We’re sticking to the edges of the Autumn Court. It’s safer that way.”

The nymphryn wasn’t so sure.