Page 151 of Death of a Mortal

This room was nothing short of amazing. I lay down on the bed and found it was spongy and soft, and the pillows smelled faintly of something vaguely familiar. Like the salty ocean and something smoky. I guessed I’d smelled it in the port town of Fallorian when we arrived in Elyndor.

The room was comfortable, with the rug and bedding in varying shades of light green and beige. I slipped off my boots, burrowed under the covers, and opened the book on glythyrs, back resting against the wooden headboard.

After only a few pages, my mind started wandering away from glythyrs. I was in Drayce’s house unattended—I didn’t want to be nosy but…

I thought for a minute, tapping a finger on the page I hadn’t retained a single word of, and made up my mind. I hopped out of bed and went back into the living area. There wasn’t much out here, but Istarted looking through the drawers and cabinets by the small couch, mainly finding books and parchment.

But the kitchen was a whole different story. I found bottled spices and herbs, various knives and utensils, dried rice, and so many other things that meant I could cook! On one side of the sink was a bowl of fresh fruit, and on the other was a bowl of vegetables. With a smile wider than the rolling pin I’d found, I opened the cold storage box to find meats, cheeses, and a glass bottle of some fizzy, golden-colored liquid.

I was practically bouncing. I was so excited to be in a kitchen full of food and means to cook. Surely Drayce wouldn’t mind. If I made myself food here, it would mean I didn’t have to go to the mess hall, and the whole point in my staying here was to be safe, right?

That was all it took to convince me as I set to work. I’d had dinner right before I got here, but I was too excited not to makesomething. I had loved cooking growing up. Often, Nella and I wouldn’t eat if I didn’t. But I’d never had so much to cook with. Giddy was the understatement of the century.

So I filled a pot with water and potatoes, set it on the grate, lit the fire underneath (with my magic for the first time!), and started chopping tomatoes and peppers. While the potatoes boiled, I mashed the tomatoes in another pot and began a stew, adding the peppers, some spices, herbs, and crumbles of the sharp-smelling cheese.

Once the potatoes were soft, I spread them onto a plate and spooned some of the vegetable stew on top. But it wasn’t done—the meal needed meat. I found a small slab of red meat, threw it in a pan with some spices, lit it on fire, and watched it for a few minutes as the outside turned brown and charred. Once done, I placed it on top of the mound of stew and mashed potatoes.

I stood admiring my handiwork before remembering the bottle of bubbly liquid in cold storage. I poured myself a glass, and when I sniffed it, the bubbles dancing on the surface tickled my nose. And that first sip…was divine. It was crisp and fruity, and I found the bubbles pleasant.

I savored every sip and bite, thinking that this must be the best meal I’d ever had in my life. And after another glass of bubbly drink, I felt the beginnings of a slight buzz in my head.

It was definitely bubbly wine. I’d only ever had wines that were dark red, but I had heard of light-yellow or gold-colored wines too. But never ones that bubbled and fizzed. But I liked it very much.

And after glass three, I simply didn’t care about the mass of dirty pots and pans in the kitchen. I’d get to those tomorrow. Much to my delight, I found the bottle of golden wine continuously refilling. The glythyr on the bottle must have been the same as the one on the barrel on the ship here—sneaky Drayce.

Carrying my glass with me, I walked around the rest of the house exploring, feeling more full and content than ever. There wasn’t much else to see. No paintings on the walls or personal items other than books. So I ended up back in my new bedroom, where I spied my mother’s journal on the side table.

I took a deep breath and decided—or rather the wine decided for me—that it was time to read it. I would commit to reading Sevrin’s books tomorrow. This felt more important in the moment.

So I curled up under the covers once more and opened the journal, feeling an immediate wave of happiness and sadness wash over me. This wouldn’t be easy, but I was ready.

After weeks crouched in the below-deck storage of that nasty, fish-smelling shit hole of a boat, I finally arrived in Elyndor today.

Gods, this really was my mom. I was really reading her thoughts and seeing her handwriting. She talked and cursed just the same as me, and it made me smile.

I found an inn here to rest before I start my search for the rebels. They have to be close.

I still can’t shake the obsession with this rebellion. I know it’s real, and I know it needs my help to accomplish the mission: end Caedryn’sreign and restore balance between mortals and fae. I’ve been obsessed with this thought for so long now, as if it burrowed into my brain like a worm.

I still think of the night I left Cassius and my little Ignacia. It hurt so badly to leave in the night without saying goodbye, but this obsession just wouldn’t let me go. I’d convinced myself that by leaving them, I could shape a better world for my little girl, and it would be my sacrifice.

I’d also known Cassius would never understand if I’d tried to tell him about what I wanted to do.

Of course, once I’m established with the rebellion, I’ll go back for Cassius and Naci and explain everything, bring them with me. But I couldn’t risk traveling with them now, without knowing where I was going.

So here I am, wondering if I’m the world’s worst mother and wife for leaving behind a home full of so much love. But I must press on. I will see them soon.

This entry caused so many conflicting emotions. I wasn’t sure what to focus on, so I flipped to the next entry, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall.

I’ve been in Elyndor searching for the rebels for over a week now. I feel like I’m losing my mind. Some days I’m so obsessed with this damned rebellion that I can think of nothing else. On other days, I feel…clearer and regretful for leaving Briarstead. Sure, the town sucked, but gods, I loved Cassius and Naci. Love. I love them. This is what I mean; even as I’m writing this, I feel like my brain switches between my here, in the rebellion, and my there, in the home that I left behind.

This rebellion has to be the most important thing; it’s essential that

Gods, why did I write that? Surely my FAMILY is the most important thing I could possibly—

The entry ended there, and it was so unsettling. Something seemed…wrong. She seemed conflicted, almost manic. I pressed on, wiping away the lone tear that had fallen.

Base truly feels like home. I’ve been here a couple of weeks now, and I’ve been so busy learning and meeting the people here that I haven’t written lately. But there are mortals and fae here, and gods, it’s so refreshing to see them getting along and working together. There aren’t many of us yet, maybe only 150 or so, but we have plans to grow. Plans to recruit.