Memory
The air carried on it the scent of smoke, as well as an acrid tinge that Princess Natillie would forever associate with death, but that Valirian had told her was actually mage fire, which, unlike ordinary fire, burnt smokeless and at an intense heat, designed to keep the scent of roasting flesh from carrying in the air as the Fae disposed of bodies.
In the distance, Erith was a purple-tinged red glow and Natillie set her back to it with determination to distract the young boys who now depended on her and Valirian for survival and protection from the end of everything that they held dear.
She did not like the man that Valirian had left them with. Frediro watched her from the corner of his eye speculatively and she knew the nature of his speculation. That she had spent the
