I pulled them back through my connection to the Dark Source.
And wrapped the power around the base, watching as it curled higher and higher until the tree was several stories in the air, its branches dusted with burning flames that would always burn as a reminder to the Midnight Fae of how far we’d come.
“A show of rebirth,” I sighed, content with the design. “A tree of retribution, meant to inspire reformation.”
A show of light came from the forest, little dots flickering in the air as hundreds of Midnight Fae approached, their wands held like torches.
Zenaida led one side.
Laki led the other.
Midnight Fae of all types followed behind them, entering the clearing of the trees, filling up as much space as the ground would allow.
They lifted the wands toward the sky.
And bowed their heads.
“Our queen has ascended,” Zen proclaimed.
“Our queen has ascended,” several repeated.
And then they began to chant an ancient hymn, the words lyrical to my ears.
It’s a song of the Midnight Fae, praising the Dark Source for its choice,Kols explained softly, his lips ghosting over my temple. They’re singing about you, Aflora. About our new Queen of the Midnight Fae.