I’ve looked at this patch of dirt, these rivers, and these mountain ridges all my life. I was born here in 1838. Then, we had an abundance of water, which flowed down creeks and rivers to the sea. I was here when two great armies clashed in civil war and my farm was part of the gateway to the Shenandoah Valley. Many men died in this war and many homes were destroyed or deserted, leaving the land to lay fallow; but the water still flowed.
Since those days, I have fallen through a rent in time and found myself back at my home, but 180 years have passed. Now, as I walk over this mountain path and look out over the land, it is dry and dying. Only the huge trees with deep taproots survive at all. There will be no harvests this year and the river levels are falling. Our water, which was once our great asset, is being siphoned away by crooks and sold to the highest bidder.
Since the authorities seem incapable of stopping this crime, I’ve promised my Granny that our family will find a way to end it. To do this, we’ll have to defeat the family black sheep, Dillon, who now calls himself a warlock and is profiting from the water theft. We have aligned with the Light Fey Tribe who also want to protect nature, but I’m never sure they can be trusted. They are Fey, after all.
For years I’ve denied the magic skills I inherited from Granny, but I realize that must change. My daughter, Anna, has budding powers and seems attracted to all things Fey, including the young Fey boy, Rad. I want to protect Anna and have warned her that the Fey are not always what them seem.
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