AZALIYAH RISE OF THE FAE

NEW VILLAGE (PT.3)

Elder Misha’s eyes widen in fascination. “A part dragon and part horse, you say? That’s incredible! I’ve never seen anything like it. I wish I could open you up and see your insides,” she says with a mischievous glint in her eye, half-joking. Camron takes a step back, eyes widening. “Let’s keep that curiosity to a minimum, shall we?” he says, trying to mask his nervousness with a laugh. Azaliyah laughs along, shaking her head. “You’re definitely a rare one, Camron. And I guess we’re all a bit of a mystery here.”

Elder Misha nods. “A mystery that we’ll unravel together. There’s much to learn, and even more to discover.” As the morning sun rises higher, casting light over the recovering village, Elder Misha gathers Azaliyah and Camron around a makeshift table. “We need to think about our next steps,” she begins, her tone serious yet hopeful. Azaliyah nods, her resolve firm. “We need to strengthen the village’s defenses and train everyone who’s willing. The raiders won’t stop after one failed attack.”

Camron chimes in, leaning on the table. “And I need to find a way to master my transformations. If I can shift fully, I’ll be a much stronger ally in battle.” Elder Misha nods thoughtfully. “We’ll focus on training and fortifying the village. But there’s also the matter of uniting the realms, as your father envisioned. We’ll need allies, and that means reaching out to other factions.” Azaliyah takes a deep breath, determination in her eyes. “Then that’s our plan. We train, we build alliances, and we prepare for whatever comes next.”

Elder Misha smiles, her confidence in them unwavering. “Exactly. This is just the beginning. Together, we’ll restore balance and make both your father’s legacy and your own a reality.” Azaliyah exhales slowly, like she’s forcing the truth out of herself instead of letting it slip. “I need to be honest about my powers,” she says, rubbing at her temples. “When I actually try to use them, when I focus, when I need them the most it’s like they just don’t f*****g listen. Nothing happens. It’s dead. But then the second I’m not thinking, or I’m pissed off, or everything’s already going to s**t that’s when it hits. That’s when it comes out, and it’s not controlled, it’s not clean, it just… explodes.” She pauses, jaw tightening. “So yeah. That’s my strength and my weakness at the same time. I’ve got power I just don’t have a damn handle on it.”

The old woman lets out a quiet hum, clearly thinking it over, but there’s a faint smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “Yes,” she says slowly, nodding once, “I gathered that much when you nearly blew half my village off its feet trying to prove a point.” Her eyes flick briefly to the side, where a few villagers are still recovering, dusting themselves off and giving Azaliyah very pointed looks.

“Very impressive, truly. Terrifying… but impressive.” She looks back at her, amusement mixing with something sharper, more knowing. “Next time, though, maybe try not to knock out the people you’re attempting to save. It does tend to complicate things.”

Azaliyah lets out a short, dry laugh, shaking her head as she glances over at the villagers still recovering from her little “mistake.” “No s**t,” she mutters under her breath, clearly not in the mood to sugarcoat anything. Before she can say anything else, the old woman reaches out and flicks her lightly on the nose quick, precise, and just annoying enough to make a point.

“Watch your mouth,” she says, giving her a look that’s equal parts amused and unimpressed. “You’re not in whatever reckless little corner of the world you crawled out of anymore.” There’s a pause, then a softer huff. “And if you’re going to blow people across a field, the least you can do is have decent manners while doing it.”

Elder Misha studies her for a moment longer, like she’s measuring something beyond just words, then straightens slightly, her tone shifting from teasing to something more grounded. “Unstable power isn’t a curse,” she says, glancing briefly toward the treeline where the raiders had come from. “It’s just undisciplined. There’s a difference. And if you’re going to survive what’s coming next, let alone help anyone else survive it, you’re going to need to learn that difference quickly.”

Azaliyah exhales through her nose, tension still sitting heavy in her shoulders, but she doesn’t argue. Not this time. “So what, I just sit here and meditate until my magic decides to listen to me?” she asks, skepticism thick in her voice.

Misha lets out a quiet chuckle, shaking her head. “No. You’re going to train. Properly. You’re going to learn control before power, restraint before reaction. And while you’re doing that…” her gaze shifts between the two of them, lingering just long enough to make it clear this isn’t optional, “you’re also going to help us reinforce this village. Because what came tonight?” She gestures toward the damaged outskirts. “That was a warning. Not a full attack.”

Camron’s expression hardens slightly at that, his earlier sarcasm settling into something more focused. “So we’re dealing with something organized,” he says, more to himself than anyone else. “Very,” Misha replies. “And if we’re going to stand any kind of chance, we don’t just react we prepare.” Azaliyah rolls her shoulders back, wincing slightly as the soreness settles in, but there’s a shift in her stance now less scattered, more anchored. “Alright,” she says finally. “So we train, we help you fortify this place” Her eyes narrow slightly. “And then we go find your werewolves.”

Misha’s smile returns, slow and knowing this time. “Now you’re starting to sound like someone with a plan.” Elder Misha looks between the two of them, already irritated like she can see trouble before it even starts. “And one more thing,” she says, pointing between them, her tone sharp. “No s*x. I cannot deal with any pregnant fae running around here especially not ones with uncontrolled power and horse lion antler things for boyfriends.”

Azaliyah’s face twists immediately. “Ew,” she says without hesitation, looking Camron up and down. “As if I’d f**k antlers head over here.” Camron’s expression snaps, offense hitting instantly. “First of all,” he fires back, stepping forward, “watch how you’re talking. And second don’t get it twisted, I’m not lacking in any department.” Misha snorts under her breath, clearly unimpressed. “Confidence is a dangerous thing when it’s misplaced.” Azaliyah lets out a short laugh, shaking her head. “Yeah, alright. Keep telling yourself that.”

Camron exhales sharply, dragging a hand down his face. “Unbelievable.” The village slowly settles as the last of the damage is cleared, the tension still sitting thick in the air like it hasn’t fully decided to leave yet. Azaliyah stands at the edge of the clearing, arms crossed, staring out at the treeline where the raiders disappeared, her jaw tight, her mind louder than the silence around her.

Everything about tonight replays in pieces the failure, the surge, the loss of control and it sits heavy in her chest in a way she can’t shake. Behind her, she hears movement, the quiet rhythm of people rebuilding like this is just another night they survived instead of something that should’ve broken them. “You’re thinking too hard,” Misha’s voice cuts in, calm but knowing, stepping up beside her like she’s been there longer than Azaliyah realized. “Yeah?” Azaliyah mutters, not looking at her. “Feels like I’m not thinking enough.”

Misha hums softly. “That’s because you’re trying to force something that doesn’t listen to force.” She pauses, letting that sit before continuing. “Power like yours doesn’t come when you call it. It comes when you understand it.” Azaliyah finally glances at her, irritation flickering. “And how the hell am I supposed to understand something that only shows up when everything’s already gone to s**t?”

“That,” Misha says, a small smirk tugging at her lips, “is exactly what we’re going to figure out.” There’s a beat of silence, heavier this time, but not empty. Camron shifts a few steps behind them, arms folded, gaze still locked on the treeline like he’s expecting something else to come out of it. “So what,” he says after a moment, voice quieter now but still edged, “we sit here, train, and wait for the next attack?”

Misha shakes her head slowly. “No. We prepare, we train, and then we move.” Her eyes flick to Azaliyah. “Because if you’re serious about stopping this… if you’re serious about your father’s vision… then this village isn’t the end of your road. It’s the beginning of it.” Azaliyah exhales, slow and steady this time, the tension in her shoulders easing just enough to feel like control instead of chaos. “The werewolves,” she says, more to herself than anyone else.

Misha nods. “The werewolves.” Camron lets out a low breath. “Yeah… this should go well.” Azaliyah rolls her eyes, but there’s something different in it now not just sarcasm, not just frustration. Something steadier. “We’ll figure it out,” she says, pushing off from where she’s standing. Misha watches her for a moment, that same knowing look settling back into place. “You will,” she says quietly. “You don’t really have a choice.” Azaliyah pauses for half a second, just enough to feel the weight of that, before continuing forward. This time, she doesn’t stop.