Draven did not flinch at the sound. As if he was familiar with the heathen words of the afterlife.
“You will not touch her,” Draven growled. His eyes burned, as if the Constellations had imbued them with Starlight to blind his enemies.
The demon laughed. A raspy, grating laugh, choking on black blood that was still filling his mouth. The steward’s gravelly voice uttered another stream of demonic words as he lifted his broadsword with one hand and pointed it at Draven.
“If he wants her, he will have to go through me,” Draven roared.
A flash of red blurred as he lunged, bringing his blade to meet the wraith’s. Red and orange flames burned on collision of the two broadswords, and a loud clang rang out in the town square.
Draven’s movements were flawless, a dance of precision and deadly swordsmanship—the dance of a man who had seen battle. The bounty hunter sidestepped the wraith’s attacks, easily avoiding the blackened blade as the injured demon slashed.
The steward of Dominion raised his weapon once more, holding the hilt with ferocity, but Draven’s fluid movements were too fast and calculated. Red blade met black, but instead of holding his defensive, Draven brought his sword full circle, catching the wraith off guard.
With a single powerful sweep, the wraith’s head was severed from his molten body.
The wraith’s dismembered form thudded to the ground, black liquid pouring from his headless neck.
Draven stood, his breath even despite the battle, his broadsword dripping in black. The red glow of his blade dissipated, and black smoke no longer lingered around him.
Astraia was barely breathing now. She could only make out blurred shadows as Draven approached her. Her ears were ringing, and she could feel every wisp of her bonds graze her skin, as though every inch of her were ready to burst.
She swayed, her eyes closed. Her head became too heavy—everything was too heavy. A rush of air blew through her hair as her body pitched forward toward the ground, but she did not feel the earth on her face. Instead, warmth enveloped her along with the smell of pine and smoke.
“Traia, I’m here.” The low whisper grazed her ear, concern etched in his tone. “Traia, listen to me. You have to find your tether again. You’re burning out.”
She tried to open her eyes, to see him one last time, but she could not find the strength.
I can’t. I can’t find Elion. I’m lost.She cried out for him again, into the dark oceans of her mind.
“You are not gone. You are here with me. And I am not going anywhere. Listen to the Stars, Traia. Reach for them.” Draven’s voice was a soft whisper, but a command, nevertheless.
The Stars are gone. They left me.
“They are still here, Traia. Reach for them.” Draven’s voice was louder, firm.
Astraia quit believing the Constellations were listening. To believe they survived the Shattering was a fool’s hope.
But what hope did she have now—steps from Dominion’s door. Death was grinning at her, welcoming her. She had to at least try.
Help me. Help the Starborne that gave you everything. That never wanted it but accepted it anyway. If you care about me, please hear me now.
An involuntary tear slid down her cheek as she begged the constellations to hear her prayer. She did not want to die. She did not want Elion’s death to be in vain.
Her mind went eerily quiet as she listened. Listened for a rustle of the wind, a whisper from Sacrifice or Power. A blip in the darkness. Time stretched before her as she tried to swim in the depthless sea of her consciousness.
Then, on the horizon, a single speck of light, barely visible, appeared just above the waters.
Astraia’s mind stilled. The waters calmed.
An ethereal sound broke through the silence, an echo in the expanse. Several voices blended together as one, creating a melody of song.
“Starlight.” The voices hummed, soft and serene.
Her mind locked on the light, her physical body responding with the quickening of her pulse.
“Arise, Starlight. You will not fall today,” the voices sang, reverberating inside her skull, a command from the Constellations.
Astraia reached for the light, for the voices of the Constellations she had long dismissed. She drew her tether from the deep, casting it on the drop of light. As soon as her cord touched the light, the waters around her subsided. Her mind began to clear and brighten as she anchored to the Stars, holding tight to her new tether.
