Iverbourne is a land splintered apart and cut off from the rest of the world. The Eternal Machine rose from the sea along with the Northern and Southern borders, trapping the creatures inside as punishment.

The Ancient Fae bound the land and it’s elemental Aether to the Machine, a hulking copper beast tended to by the foulest in Iverbourne. Each High Court and their lands are allotted certain amounts of Aether to power machinery and perform magic.

Walk through this barren map in Lythienne’s point of view, an excerpt taken from the book. In this context the Keeper of Death notices discrepancies in the output values to the lands. (The map she has is bare bones, far more villages exist than she is aware of.)

Amwren scoots closer to me, her wings fluttering and sending a few papers aloft. “I heard that Ragnis’ visitor is from The Others’ Court.”

     “The Others?” I look at her with a raised brow. I only knew of the territories forged in the treaty. After the Great War ended and The Ancients crafted The Eternal. Without it, our world would’ve fallen apart.

     I pore over the map of Iverbourne again, tracing the realms. Iron Court was torn apart from Borealis after the war, sheer red canyons to the eastern lands divided Fire Fae from the remaining continent. Everyone in the desert was trapped, doomed to live in the scraps Iron gave them. Iron was rich beyond belief, profiting from our labor and giving nothing back to their struggling people.

The Borealis Court lay to the north, the only human land remaining. Iron would always look over the sea, lust after the land they once traversed, and destroyed. I never heard much about humans, other than they despised Fae with a passion and only began trading in the past few years, with extreme trepidation.

    Sylvan and Terra Court ruled the upper mainlands of Iverbourne, disputes raging since the treaty over territory lines. With the atrocities of Water mercenaries hunting lesser Fae for sport, and the now decades-long famine plaguing the lands of Earth Fae, Iverbourne was brimming with conflict and threatening to break. 

     The southern lands were ruled by the Hallowed Court, the Air Fae. The marshes and hillsides stretched far south, stopped in their tracks by glacial wastelands of mountain terrain. Similar impassable mountains rose along the northern borders of Iverbourne, trapping the lands together, keeping the northern Realm of Giants separate from us.

I rose and began to pace, biting my cheek and rubbing my neck. “Something’s not right. To override the output vents, it would take,” I pause and turn to Amwren who is overlooking the output values, setting them down and gesturing for me to come closer.

Thanks for reading!