Shoving her body weight behind her dagger and allowing her bond to drive her forward, she forced the wraith back. His footing faltered for only a second, but that was all the time she needed.
Without blinking, she plunged the dagger into the small space between the wraith’s metal armor plating. Power reacted, pouring into her dagger and straight into the wraith.
The wraith stumbled backward, releasing an ear-piercing shriek, louder than any natural sound, a sound of the steward of Dominion—death itself.
Astraia jumped backward out of the reach of the wraith, her dagger still glowing with Power embedded in his rotting flesh.
But death was not finished with her yet.
Red eyes glowed with hatred as a billow of smoke surged from his hands and broadsword, flooding the town square.
Astraia pulled her cloak over her mouth, coughing, but refused to pull her eyes away from the wraith. She dove for her bow and quiver, her last remaining tools of retribution.
Through the haze, she could see the white glow of her Celestial dagger still wedged between the wraith’s armor. He lifted an ashen hand to remove the dagger by the hilt, but as soon as hemade contact with the blade, the white glow of Power blazed brighter eliciting another shriek.
It was now or never.
Raising her bow, she anchored deeper into the earth. Elion’s face flashed before her, as if he was mere inches from her. A small smile etched on his face as he stared at her.
Then a sound sweeter than any melody, than the song of the constellations themselves, filled her ears and drowned out the wraith’s screams.
“You are Starlight, Astraia,” Elion echoed across the village.
“I will not fall,” she whispered, nodding to her brother.
Astraia flared.
White light intertwined with blue streaks erupted from her core. The brilliance filled every corner of the town, every inch of smoke evaporated with the mere touch of her light. It sang from the earth, it poured from the fallen stars, it banished the darkness back to Dominion. She was pure Starlight—she was a constellation of reckoning.
The wraith bellowed a roar of defiance, marching forward. A low rumble shook the ground with each step as his boots struck dirt. Red sparks flew in every direction.
Astraia stood firm and loosed her arrows.
Her hands were a blur as she let every arrow from her quiver fly. The air around the points split as they flew toward their target, white streaks of light and blue flashes painting the air in a symphony of force.
The wraith went on the defensive, slowing his steps as he held his broadsword in front of him as a shield. As the arrows peppered his blade, the impact sounded like thunder clouds just overhead, vibrating the ground around them. The sheer magnitude of the collision caused the wraith to stumble, his boots sliding backward across the dry dirt as the arrows kept striking.
Astraia’s flare intensified, her steps moving in a circle around the wraith, trying to find a weak point. Just when she grasped for the last arrow, she noticed the glowing dagger once more from the demon’s side.
Her vision honed, she could see thick black drops falling from the wound, ashen flesh exposed. Time slowed to a crawl, the wraith almost at a standstill. The white light crackling through the air from her arrow was suspended in motion. Sound muffled around Astraia as she aimed her bow.
The white and blue pulses from her bond crept their way from the fletching to the tip, as her gaze remained fixed on the inky fluid oozing from his side.
Holding her breath, she flexed her hand and released.
Time jolted back. Sound rushed to her ears, and her eyes refocused—just as the arrow whizzed through the air and found its mark beside the entry point from her dagger.
More white and blue light seeped into the wraith. Another shriek from the demon steward pierced the air as he lowered his sword, clutching his side in vain. He could not touch the arrow or the blade embedded in his ashen flesh, her bonds’ strength still flowing into his wounds.
The wraith faltered, his red eyes locked on Astraia, smoke billowing from his nostrils.
“This ends now, demon,” she seethed, dropping her bow.
Latching onto her tether, she channeled Power. Remembering her training with Draven, she focused on wielding the bond into an extension of herself. Commanding it to concede, a glowing white sword erupted from her hands. She held fast to the shimmering hilt, feeling the energy pulsing through her arms and whirring around her.
A scream ripped from her throat, a yell she had been holding inside her for five long years. A shout of justice, of anger, ofretribution for her brother and the selfish pride of her parents—for the life stolen from her.
She did not hesitate as she sprinted toward the shadowy beast. Running faster than she had in her entire life, bonds lightening her steps, her blade aglow with Power’s intensity. The wraith was within a sword-length from her as he struggled to raise his weapon, smoke and fire spewing from his mouth, bringing down his might upon her.
