Children of Iverbourne: Prequel to The Eternal Machine (Take me to Iverbourne)

Adventure, Found Family, Unlikely Heroes, Heroes who are Parents
Children of Iverbourne is a prequel novella taking place 236 years before The Eternal Machine, following the original heroes of the war torn lands and the difficult choices they must make, all to ensure a better future.
A terrified slave, lacking bravery or free will, sent on an impossible journey.
A hardened Commander of the Eternal prison, taking in his newest inmate. An hours old baby.
A half crazed Fae, former Hero of Borealis, Court of the Humans.
Two Parents on a journey to deliver their child to Iverbourne, to freedom, no matter the cost.
A new Captain, and a troublemaking Water Fae with a constant smirk.
This is a DARK Adult Fantasy, intended for audiences 18+. Mature themes include fictional violence and abuse, read preface for content warnings.
From the Author
Knothall is dressed in full dark leathers, he wasn't before I fell asleep. His sword clinks against my side, small throwing blades press into my chest from his baldric and I wipe my tears, realizing his long sword is covered in fresh blood. Something must've happened outside the Door.
"You're alright, you're safe. I have you." He whispers, petting my burgundy hair. I shove him away and cross my arms tight, my tears burn with anger now, not fear. A dimly lit lantern rests beside Knothall on the floor, illuminating his surprised face and our cramped quarters.
The only world I've ever known.
"I want to see the sky! Just once!" I demand, voice cracking with sobs.
My shomer's wrinkled face doesn't pull with disappointment or anger as I thought it would. Instead, he breaks for the first time, in front of me, that is. I loosen my small arms as he leans back on his bare heels and buries his face in his hands, behemoth body and blades shaking. I scoot to the edge of the mattress and pull his hands apart, my own are small enough to wrap around his finger.
"I do too, dear Lythienne. I do too." Crimson eyes lift from his hands to find my small head tilted, and he sniffs, then presses his forehead to mine. Knothall isn't overly affectionate, and his skin is warm against mine. I sigh and my despair subsides, then I explain myself with calm truth.
"I am growing up. I cannot live only in this room forever, it can't be that scary out there, can it?" I whisper, but the sight of my shomer covered in blood proves me wrong.
"Growing up? Why yes, what are you, forty five now?" Knothall teases, tickling my sides. I grin wide and roll my eyes, nightmares tucked away for now. Knothall brushes burgundy curls back from my face and smiles. "There she is."
We settle back down for the last few precious hours of sleep, both of us curled up on my mattress, half the size of Knothall's across the room. I snuggle under the quilted blankets on the side closest to the stone wall. The elder Fae lays beside like he does every night I have a nightmare, body half sprawled on the floor and separating me from the horrors that lay outside the Door.
"Tomorrow I will introduce you to my assistant, Amwren, you can apprentice under her in the Aether labs once you are old enough. Until then, you may keep her company, only in the labs, and if she agrees." Knothall murmurs, his eyes closed. He had changed from his leathers while I waited under the blankets, and he looks much more peaceful in his comfy linen tunic and pants.
"Really?" I gasp through grogginess, rolling over to nestle into his side.
I study his wrinkled square jaw lined with scars, and note how his long loose hair is flowing with more silver than it used to. Knothall has said before most people don't remember things like I do, and I smile at the thought. I remember a sudden pinprick of pain as a babe, then every moment of my life thereafter. My first solid memory is of Knothall scooping me into his arms after he hurt me, eyes and soothing words glistening with guilt.
I've never asked why he had to poke my finger with that shiny knife, why he needed to draw b