Moyra’s Tale, Part 1

(A new story I just started, and may continue as I discover where it leads, so it’ll be put up in segments.)

“It’s for the best, my love.” The tone of his voice betrayed his words, showed the uncertainty that he also felt about the decision they’d been forced to make about their infant child. The prophecies had all pointed toward this time, the signs had been revealing themselves—not just to them but the whole world. As soon as the child was conceived, the magical realm had been thrown into turmoil. “She has to be hidden away. There are too many that wish her dead.”

His wife’s eyes were filled with unshed tears and the sorrow any mother would feel at the loss of her child. “How can we expect them to protect her? They don’t even know what it is she’s to become.”

His embrace is warm as he seeks to comfort her. “That’s what will protect her so well. The Readers can’t find the truth in their minds if they don’t have that knowledge. She’ll grow up as mortals. She’ll have a safe and happy childhood.” He picks up the infant girl from the basinet and cradles her in his arms, her tiny hand reaching for his beard. “My dear, sweet girl,” he murmurs softly. “I am sorry for what’s to come. You’ll be watched over, and you’ll be as safe as we can make you. In time I hope you’ll forgive us for this.”

The baby’s eyes remain on him, wide and unblinking. It’s as if she knows, comprehends what’s transpiring around her and is already trying to memorize her father’s face and voice. He begins to chant a spell—one that would mask her magic until she’s older—and hears his wife choke out a sob behind him as the reality begins to sink in. The conclusion of the spell is anticlimactic, and when it’s over he turns to his mate. “I’ll take her now to those who will protect her.”

“Wait! Let me come with you. I need to see them.” The pleading in her voice makes him hesitate, and he runs his thumb down her cheek. She grips his hand in both of hers. “Please.”

He finally nods. “Very well. Come, we’ve a long way to go.”

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