Fate Entwined

The pages of the enchanted storybook flip furiously before coming to rest on a blank page. As you watch in astonishment, words form on the page, like ink spilling in reverse: <span class="fancy">In the fourth era, thirty-one years after the Three-Sided War, the noblewoman Peridot M. H. gave birth to a cursèd child named [[Ehlea][chapter]]. At birth, the babe shed a single silver tear that scarred her face, leaving the fearful Mark of the Moon. And despite being shunned by her family and mocked by strangers, she would become a heroine to save us all...</span>

## Chapter One - She Leaped from the Nest at Mid-Night Ehlea watched the square of moonlight inching across the floor. [[She had woken at the chiming of the first hour.][passage]] She shifted anxiously on [[her bed][passage]]. [[It was time to go.][section]]

The fifteen chimes of the grand timekeeping mechanism had woken her from a deep sleep where she had dreamed of a river of liquid silver in the Underworld, stretching for miles around a city of marble and glass. Ethereal spirits were clustered at the bank of the river, waiting for their turn to be ferried across to the city of the dead. It had been a strange dream, both ominous and tranquil in its theme. And when she had awoken, her eyes had been shining with [[argent tears][passage]].

Ehlea was leaving again, as she did every month. She would go to the marketplace, breathe the fresh night air - and meet with Torvan, the old healing mage who was teaching her how to control and suppress her Mark. [[Ehlea gathered what she needed.][passage]]

A four-poster bed, made for a child much younger than Ehlea, although her [[diminuitive frame][passage]] meant that it was the perfect size for her. The drapes were cotton-blue with [[little silver stars][passage]].

The cloth had been a gift from a very wealthy noble, a friend of her father's, given to her family at her birth. The hand-stitched stars had been enchanted by a mage to align with their positions in the night sky, but they were frozen - Ehlea had broken the enchantment during [[one of her fits][passage]].

Ehlea's tears were, according to her father, the only reason he kept her around. Because of [[her Mark][passage]], when she cried, her tears were liquid sterling silver. Even stranger, the tears were cold and flowed like water, not molten metal.

*Or malnourished, rather*, thought Ehlea bitterly.

The Mark of the Moon. The Silver Scar. The Tear of Nightmares. The Curse of the Moth Queen. All different names for the most feared magickal sign, even more notorious than the vi'let witching eyes, and much, much rarer.

Every full moon, Ehlea's magick reached its peak potency, and she fell into a deep dreamless sleep, during which her surrounding wakeful reality became more and more unstable and inconsistent. Once she had awoken to see a black adder, four feet longer than it should have been, curled around her leg. After the initial paralyzing fear, she discovered it was entirely docile. Before she could unwind the venomous snake from her ankle, it glowed like a dying ember and faded into nonexistence with a flash of silver light, leaving only black ash and a tattered snakeskin as a reminder of its short life. The danger of her magick lay in its unpredictability, and her lack of control. Most times it was harmless. Other times she would start fires whilst unconscious, or shatter windows, or cause it to snow indoors. And so she was kept to her room during those nights, and beaten severely upon waking if her magick spiralled out of control, even though she had no conscious control over it.

[[Her book and ink-pen, where she wrote down spells and potions.][passage]] [[Her scrye-athame, both a weapon and a tool.][passage]] [[Her cloak.][passage]] [[The enchanted amulet Torvan gave her, which created an illusion that concealed her Mark when worn.][passage]]

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Ehlea opened her nightstand and dug under the numerous crystal vials she stored her tears in. There it was, sharp as ever, [[her most prized possession][passage]].

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Ehlea had pulled the scrye-athame out of thin air during her first lesson with Torvan, to demonstrate her Mark. It had mostly been an accident - she had read of scrye-athames in a book in the estate's library and decided she wanted one. She recalled the memory now, the bewildered expression on Torvan's face, his grin of enthusiasm when he discovered [[the powerful enchantment][passage]] it possessed. [[The splitting headache and confusion she had shortly after.][passage]]

Using her powers consciously was dangerous. When a mage used their Mark, they paid a price. Torvan, being a healer, paid the price of youth, aging a few days with every healing. Those with the Solar Mark found that their memories faded more and more with each rewinding. And Ehlea, with the Mark of the Moon, paid the price of sanity, becoming less attached to reality when using her magick of conjuring. With caution and moderation, the price one paid would be mostly restored over a period of days or weeks. But if the gift of the Mark was overused, one could find themselves afflicted by amnesia, madness, illness, or bad luck almost permanently.

This particular scrye-athame could listen to distant sounds. All one needed to do was point the blade at a location in the distance and hold the dagger firmly by the handle.