Rhapsody by J. Kearston

I’m not afraid of dying; never have been. I’m afraid of dying before doing anything worthwhile.
Scattered around Faerie, my mates and I need to find one another if we want to have any hope of stopping the changelings. Monsters are donning new faces, blurring the lines left and right, and it’s growing impossible to tell the difference between friend or foe. One thing I am sure of; the deadliest things are the ones that you underestimate.
I’m not sure how to save everyone else when we can barely save ourselves.
But the queen has been stealing my energy all of these years for a reason, and something tells me that it has nothing to do with the changeling threat. I’m the villain in the eyes of so many, and everything in the eyes of a few. So who decides what’s right, and if I even am the hero my men believe me to be?
I gave them magic, but they gave me their morally grey humanity. They’ve taught me that I don’t need to be good, I need to be willing to sacrifice everything.
Even if it’s simply out of spite.