“At dawn. I have a team of my best Empyrean Guards ready to move. But Astraia.” He paused, holding her hand in his. “Please, do not try to be the hero. I cannot… Iwill notsurvive losing you again.”
“Caelan, do not ask me to stand by and watch while you and your men fight.”
“Very well, but we do not engage until we understand what threatens us. I will not risk starting a battle with losing odds.” He rolled up the map as he spoke, but she was unconvinced.
If the wraiths were gathering in a horde, and they were even half the strength of the wraith she fought, they would need to be prepared for the worst.
Chapter 26
When sky is torn and bonds unmade, the unity flame shall walk the shade. One hand to heal, one hand to burn—To choose the star that does not turn.
Holy prophecy of the Tredecim, Zealot sect of The Shardborne nomads
THE MORNING MISTS SETTLED AROUND Orion’s hooves as Astraia rechecked her newly restrung bow before she slung it onto her back, right next to her replenished quiver. She placed her foot in the stirrup and swung her other leg over the saddle, hoisting herself up until she was firmly seated on Orion’s back.
Pulling the hood of her cloak up over her head, she glanced around at the party of guards readying their own steeds. The men wore Empyrean leather armor coated in stardust as well as Empyrean blades endued with stardust. The deadly combination made them faster with the blade and more difficult to kill.
Astraia glanced sideways, watching as Caelan mounted his own horse and turned to face the four men. He wore the same leather armor, except a series of white dots had been marked on his arm panel—the constellation Vulpecula the fox and steward of Desire. He straightened in his saddle.
“Empyrean, today we set out to find the demons who plague our lands and threaten Virellians,” he boomed, all eyes trainedon him as he spoke. “Your orders are to scout out these wraiths, but do not engage unless they attack first. We are to gather information and return to Volpes. Remain vigilant, and do not attract unwanted attention. Am I clear?”
“Yes, sir!” four voices roared back.
Caelan nodded at them. “Move out,” he ordered, waiting for Astraia to trot up next to him before setting out from Volpes.
The air was hazy, the sun just starting to rise over the rolling hills of Virellia as they rode north. The dew on the grass sparkled in the morning light, giving the illusion of stars sprinkled on the ground. She scoffed at the poetic irony.
“Where are we starting the search?” she asked, glancing sideways at Caelan, his face unusually stoic.
“Near Ásynjur, the fortified outpost outside Skyforge Peaks. It is closest to where the Drengr last spotted the wraith horde.”
Astraia nodded, noting the edge in Caelan’s voice, command mixed with dread. She did not mock him. The glowing red eyes of the wraith she encountered outside Volpes still haunted her nightmares. The ancient heathen language it had spoken whispered in the dark corners of her thoughts. It was no mere enemy; it was a demon of Dominion. Any advancing numbers of wraiths could only mean the death of innocents.
The party of Empyrean marched onward, careful to stick close together and follow the main roads through the countryside of Virellia. By late afternoon, they had crossed halfway to the Njord River in the north that created the northern border between the Skyforge Peaks and Virellia. Truthfully, it was an extension of the eastern fork of the Hydraneas River, but the fearsome people of the Peaks renamed this portion of the river decades ago after a fallen king. No one dared challenge them, thus the name remained. Better redrawn maps than angered mountain warriors.
As the sun lowered over Virellia, the band of guards made camp for the night, making quick work of setting up bedrolls and starting a fire. Astraia tended to the horses, making sure they were fed and had easy access to a nearby stream before she sat down next to Caelan by the campfire.
His brows furrowed as he placed a hand on his forehead and sighed. There had been no sign of the wraiths, which was reassuring but also built anticipation of what awaited them the next day.
“Eat.” Astraia shoved a plate of stew in front of him, forcing him to look up at her.
His green eyes danced in the firelight, like the leaves of summer trees painting themselves orange and red for autumn. “Thank you.” He smiled, taking the plate from her.
“What troubles you?” she asked, spooning stew onto her own plate.
“How am I supposed to lead men against demons, Astraia?” His voice was hushed, masked by the sounds of the men talking and laughing around the fire, drowning out their own anxieties with revelry. He gazed absently into the flames, lost in the sea of fire and smoke.
“These are no mere men, Caelan. These are Empyrean. Guards you have trained with, fought with, bled with. They would lay down their lives for you as I know you would for them.” She placed a hand on his, squeezing to let him know she was here. She would weather this storm with him.
“These are no mere men. These are wraiths. Stewards of death. You yourself almost burned out from facing just one of them.” His paused, turning his face to her. “I have only one bond. What good am I against a horde?”
Astraia took a deep breath, smiling as she thought back to a night similar to this, when she feared herself more than anyone. A certain insufferable bounty hunter had broken her in moreways than one under the starless sky, allowing her to breathe through her grief for the first time in years.
“Someone once told me that you are stronger than your bonds. Your bonds do not define you. You are a strong and courageous leader who loves your people. Your men need that right now. Not a Starborne, but the Lord of Volpes and Captain of the Empyrean Guard.” She smiled, rubbing her thumb across the top of his hand.
He beamed at her, raising her hand to his lips. “Thank you.”
Blushing, she broke his stare, tilting her head upward. A small shard of the moon was visible, nearly swallowed whole by the starless expanse. Closing her eyes, she exhaled and dove deep into the murky depths of her mind.
