Alita.
I was happy. I stood in the middle of two women. Two strong and courageous women. My mother and my grandmother, Athena.
The air around us was still and peaceful, reflecting the emotions in our hearts. It was a great day. A day to rejoice after all the struggle that we had gone through.
My mother was a Fae princess. And my grandmother was the "long dead" former Fae Queen. It turned out that she was alive. She had survived the death.
She was never dead. She survived, just like I and my mother had survived. Maybe raising past high storms was a trait that ran deep in our blood, then? But why didn't my little Arah survive?
If she hadn't died, my mother would already be a grandmother, and my grandmother a great-grandmother.
A sad smile tacked the corners of my lips as I though
