Page 148 of Blade of the Nightking

A map of Elantis.

I’d never seen one before, but there was no mistaking it.

The parchment had been rendered in astonishing detail, each Court marked by elegant borders. Even from where I sat, I could make out tiny inked forests, each tree painstakingly hand-drawn, streams winding gracefully through valleys, entire mountain ranges rising in bold strokes across the land.

To the west lay the island kingdom of the Court of Dusk, surrounded by the dark waters of the Virellan Sea. Half Moon Bay was unmistakable, its perfect crescent shape curving along the coastline, Noctharis sprawled beneath the tiered cliffs, the castle perched above the city.

I leaned closer, unable to stop the spark of excitement that rushed through me at seeing the world for the first time in its entirety, from above.

My eyes traced Courts I’d never seen, land I’d never set foot on.

It was easy to spot the Court of Flame near the center of the map, flanked by the Court of Stone to the east and Frost sprawling to the northwest, where Isvaldr rose at the northern edge like a city of ice.

My gaze snagged on the Cauldron. My stomach clenched painfully as I took in Solmire built around its lip, sketched in such fine detail it stirred memories of sun-warmed stone and winding cobbled streets.

Dheren was nowhere to be found, its existence hidden even from the knowledge of the mapmaker.

The giant trees and wild growth of the Thornlands were so dense that I recognized the landscape at once, as though I were still standing at the window atop Hyperia’s manor.

Beyond the Court of Thorns lay the mortal lands, and they were… green.

I’d only ever known it as a dying realm. Forests sparse and withering, rivers dwindled to muddied streams, settlements worn by time and hardship… But here the land was lush and thriving, rivers winding full and bright across the countryside, cities standing whole, untouched by ruin.

It took me a moment to find Midland, and it looked… alive.

At the time this map had been drawn, the mortal lands had still been flourishing. Back when there had been no Veil. Back when humans had belonged to Elantis just as much as the Fae.

Rìan reached for the book again, dragging it forward until it nearly touched the edge of the map. His attention flicked rapidly between the illustration and the parchment spread across the table, comparing the two before his hands joined in, tracing invisible lines between the marked points. He grabbed a charcoal nub and began scribbling notes onto a spare scrap of parchment.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he leaned closer to the map, squinting at the sweep of lines in the storybook before measuring something with his fingers.

Footsteps echoed faintly down the corridor. I recognized the clipped, self-important sound of Segolayne’s bootheels before she even appeared.

She stepped into the chamber, her clothes clearly thrown on in haste. The moment she spotted me, she stopped short, her lip curling.

“What’s she doing here?”

Rìan didn't so much as glance up at her brazen tone.

“She found something.” He beckoned her closer.

He turned The Book of Old Tales toward Segolayne, holding it up so she could see the two-page illustration properly.

“Levinica’s gates may very well be what this text refers to as the Gates of Othyr.” He held the book out toward her. “Can you replicate this?”

Segolayne stepped closer, studying the mess of lines and color. Then something in her expression shifted, her eyes widening slightly.

“Is that⁠—”

“Maybe.” Rìan cut in. “It’s important that you follow the direction of the strokes. And the motion of the lines.”

She considered the drawing for another long moment before finally straightening and lifting her hands. Light slipped from her fingers in thin strands, the glowing threads lowering carefully to the page. I leaned forward despite myself as the magic pressed against the parchment, tracing each complicated sweep of ink one by one, following every curve and slash with painstaking care.

At last the threads withdrew.

Segolayne exhaled sharply and spread both hands wide—her magic erupted outward.