"1056 days left" by Duvencrune, Edgar O. Diary of the Long Night, 111th Edition

While passengers moved around her, dispersing throughout the vessel, their chatter blending into the sound of the sea. Zora simply stood in the middle of the crowd. She was waiting, with her eyes lost in the darkness of the Long Night as the song of the waves filled her ears.

Her luggage was already settled in her room, leaving her free to linger on the deck and take in the peaceful embrace of the ocean. Over the last moons, the sea had become an unexpected, strange, soothing retreat.

"Look at you!"

She turned to see a tall man in a Magi robe approaching her. His long black hair, half cornrow braided, framed an imposing face with a thick, well-kept mane beard that didn't outshine his broad smile.

"Zora!"

"Master Magi Dargustea," she said, bowing. Her smile was small as she didn't fully recognise the man but guessed it was Redfred from his Magi attire.

"Oh please, let's stop the formalities! I've wiped your little butt too many times! Come here!" he exclaimed, pulling her into a tight hug.

She closed the distance between them and embraced him back. They hadn't seen each other since she was a child.

As they pulled apart, Redfred looked at her with pride. "You've grown so much," he said, "and I see you've become quite the Magi." He pointed to her forehead. "How is that new thing called?"

"Ophius, Master," Zora replied, touching the infinity mark on her forehead.

"Ophius... Mediah was always the thinker, too smart for his own good. Maybe if Muru had an Ophius, he would still be one of us."

Zora's brow furrowed slightly. She didn't know who Muru was or what it meant that he was no longer one of them. Mediah and Jaer had taught her that a Magi was always a Magi, even without the black robe. Those were the Laws of the Trial.

"Who is Muru?" she asked, her curiosity piqued despite her exhaustion.

Redfred sighed, a shadow passing over his face. "Muru was one of the most talented Magi I had the pleasure to teach, but he... lost his way. He renounced his black robe and chose a different path. The commoner's path… a normal life if you want to put it that way. It's a painful story, one I hope you never have to experience with anyone you care about."

As night, weeks, and moons passed, the banter was revealed to be not as bad as she imagined. Redfred's warmth and familiarity made the conversation flow easily, and his joy at returning home was evident in his demeanour. It almost felt as if he had been captive in a cage all these Winters and was finally free, at least for a while.

As they spent more time on the boat, they created a habit of lingering on the deck after dinner. Like her, Zora noticed that Redfred enjoyed looking into the dark and observing the things hidden by the lack of light. They both found solace in the mysteries that the night held.

"You know," Redfred began, "these journeys give you much time to think. I've missed this... the sea, the open sky, the chance to watch and wonder."

Zora nodded, understanding exactly what he meant. "Out here, the vastness makes you feel small, but the perspective it offers makes you feel bigger than you realise.

Redfred smiled, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Well said, Zora. You always had a way with words, even as a child. I'm surprised you don't like to write."

She smiled back, a touch of shyness in her expression. "Thank you, Master Dragustea. I like to dance; it is the same thing, just in another language."

Zora leaned against the railing without being able to feel the cool breeze against her skin.

They stood there for a while, side by side, letting the calm of the sea and the Long Night envelop them. It was a rare moment of peace, a brief respite before the cataclysm that would change their lives forever. Theirs and that of the whole world. But in that moment, they were simply two Magi travelling the Red Sea.

They were just a few days from reaching Praiaemar after nearly four moons of travelling the Red Sea. The journey had been long. Redfred shared a bottle of spirited liquor with Zora, his eyes curious as he pointed to her forehead.

"Does it hurt?" he asked.

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"No, but that is me, I guess…" Zora replied, taking the bottle. "But I feel like an impression... as if I have a constant finger pressing my forehead. But it doesn't hurt, I can't..." She trailed off, realising he might have forgotten about her inability to feel pain or anything else.

"I thought it went away," Redfred said. "Darra told me in letters that you were eating and enjoying food, and once you complained about the cold. I thought by now you would be..." He searched for the right word.

"Normal? No, I'm pretty out of the box still," she said with a wry smile, taking a gulp of the liquor as if it were water.

Redfred watched her, "I guess normal is overrated," he said with a chuckle. "You've always been extraordinary, Zora. Pain or no pain, you've faced more challenges than most can imagine."

Zora leaned back, expecting to feel the warmth of the liquor spread through her. "Yeah, we can say that... challenges. I've learned to adapt. Sometimes, it's a blessing not to feel pain. But lately, it feels more like a hex." She took another swig, the liquor sliding down her throat effortlessly.

Redfred gently took the bottle back from her. "You need to go easy on this."

Zora sighed, her gaze drifting to the horizon. "Can I ask... about..."

"About?"

"The Dame... what is happening."

Redfred took a deep drink from the bottle, trying to mimic Zora's nonchalance but finding the liquor burning like fire. He grimaced. "If something doesn't change, we are fucked. That I can tell. Did you know there is a prophecy that says in two winters, the sun will rise?"

"Every Magi in the camp knows it by heart. I found it really hard to believe. But..." She looked at the sky and pointed to a single shimmering, faint star. "There is that."

"Oh, you noticed."

"It's hard to ignore the light in the dark."

"It is hard to ignore black flags. A golden snake under almost every window of the Capitol. Windows, doors, everywhere. Nobody hides it anymore. So, it is not just Magis. People know, they know." Redfred nodded, "The prophecy... it's a beacon of hope for them... I think it is because she is not doing anything. The Winterqueen doesn't do anything. Since Winter began, she has only eaten... That's the only thing that has been done. Who would imagine doing such things to faeries?" Redfred said, his voice tipsy with shame.

Zora's eyes widened in horror. "That's why... that is why the faeries are being hunted?"

Redfred's shoulders slumped, "There is nothing I could do. The order was made, and someone did the rest. Good people turn into villains because they are hungry and afraid. The only thing I could do was to protect as many as I could with… papers, lots of papers. The Magis Trial camp and other missions we have throughout the Map... I don't have any power in anything. Sometimes, I can't even sleep or eat. But for some, it's easy. They keep the dame distracted with her vices and do as they wish, everything hidden in the darkness of the palace."

Zora felt a wave of wrath at the thought of the faeries and her friends being hunted and used as nothing more than food. She had always known there was darkness in the world, but this was a new level of cruelty.

"We can't let this continue," she said, her voice trembling with anger. "We have to do something."

Redfred sighed a deep and weary sound. "I've tried, Zora. Every day, I try to protect them, to find a way to stop this madness. Trying to trick their map location. Invent navigation permits that cost a fortune and other bureaucratic things. I even checked how human administration works to get it edged to the limit of patience. But my hands are tied. The power is not in my hands. The best I can do is act as much as I can while she is distracted by others, to buy time for them to hide their colonies and others to escape."

Zora clenched her fists, her knuckles white. "Why does she need faeries?" she asked, accepting the bottle from Redfred.

"She eats them," Redfred answered, his tone flat. "That's all I know."

"She eats them for what?"

"There is no other way to put it. Why? I have no idea. Who told her to? I don't know. But she gets high... she becomes unable to respond... she stays in the pools lethargic... and that's it. The Winterqueen is an addict to faeries, and that's all we know." He took a huge sip of the liquor, the burn offering little comfort. "The Magis can't even open an investigation without the White Cloaks, and we are losing black robes to them every day. It hurts to see your companions, brothers, and sisters convert to the other side without understanding why."

"How many Winters before a miracle?" Zora asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Two Winters and a few moons," Redfred replied. "They say her name will be Eura. It's a bit pretentious, but if I was about to save the world, I would be pretentious, too."

"Well, once the sun rises, evil won't have many places to hide," Zora said, taking another sip from the bottle, unable to feel the warmth spread through her.

Redfred looked at the single star in the night sky and, almost in a prayer, said, "May the Sun burn over Land, Sea and Sky."

The birth of Zora Mageschstea or as many know her, Grand Commander Magi Lolth, is shrouded in secrecy, known only to a handful of creatures: Magi Redfred Dargustea, Magi Muru Ann, Elven King Finnegan Berdorf, and two unnamed Priestesses of the Green Mother's cult. These witnesses alone are aware of the true nature of her lineage, a fact that remains hidden from Zora herself until this present day.

Zora's apparent disinterest in her origins could be seen as either a lack of curiosity or a conscious avoidance of her potential claims—particularly her entitlement to the throne of Whitestone. The implications of such knowledge are a key, potentially altering the dynamics of power in our known history and even timeline.

But, Zora, like her sister Fiona, is unable to activate an Ormsaat, a critical function for a Dame. The question arises: would society accept a Dame who cannot interact with the elemental forces of land, sea, and sky? Ultimately, my pondering suggests that the truth of her heritage, while potentially altering her personal and political landscape, might not be essential to her peace or fulfilment.

When the truth of her identity eventually came into my possession, I found myself at a moral crossroads. Despite my personal grievances, I chose not to disrupt my Hexe's peace. In the grand scheme of things some secrets are better left unearthed.

Because no matter what, there would be no difference, the throne was always meant to belong to the Summerqueen. ——The Hexe - Book Two by Professor Edgar O. Duvencrune, First Edition, 555th Summer

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