“Sometimes barbed armor guards gentle hearts,” she whispered. “After wearing it too long, one won’t realize they were slowly bleeding themselves, and pain turns peaceful things vicious. Auster wasn’t always the villain he became.”
I didn’t respond. As much as Astraea despised Auster for all he’d done, I also understood he was once a dear friend, and that she would always grieve for that part of him.
“You need a healer and rest,” I said gently.
Astraea nodded, wincing as I helped her to stand.
Eltanin emitted noise, coming closer to us. He bowed his head, rattling toward Athebyne, who appeared so weak it was difficult to know if she would pull through.
“I can’t lose her,” Drystan whispered, resting his forehead against her giant head.
It would break him completely. This bond he had with the dragon meant more to him than anything. It was everything our father couldn’t give him. Devotion, loyalty, love.
I watched Eltanin as he walked closer, and it was then I saw the glistening in his eyes.
He was offering his tears.
Three of them fell over Athebyne, and Astraea’s hand tightened on my arm around her when they shimmered over the dragon’s red scales.
“His tears can heal,” Drystan muttered in fascination. He smiled, breathing a sigh of relief.
Athebyne still had a long way to go to recover fully, but whatever Drystan felt from her now must be enough confidence to know she’d make it.
Astraea took my hand, smiling preciously at me until something caught her attention. She glanced down, gasping as she pushed my sleeve up as far as it could go. The thin black vines of her blood used as poison had already crawled past my elbow from where my Father scored my wrist with the blade.
I tipped her chin with my fingers, and though her eyes were glistening with shock and panic, I smiled.
“Just another matching tattoo.” I tried to lighten the situation.
My days were now as numbered as hers, but I didn’t fear. I only wished I could give her more time in this world with her friends, but the fates had bound our final hours together, and though that was tragic, I was glad.
Her brow crumpled more.
“Oh, Nyte,” she sighed, leaning into me.
I retrieved the key from the void. Astraea felt its pull instantly, straightening to take it from me. Back in her possession, the staff flared brilliantly, blasting a wave of power around us all.
“Now, let’s reclaim your throne,” I said.
Astraea wouldn’t let me carry her, but I kept a firm arm around her waist as we passed through the first gates into the lower level of Vesitire’s tiered city.
The streets were ominous and quiet.
Humans, fae, vampires, celestials… we passed them all, and they watched us with variations of fear, hope, and curiosity. As if not knowing which figure of power to trust as friend or foe anymore. Some whispered to each other but I didn’t know if Astraea could hear them.
“It’s the star-maiden.”
“She saved us.”
“Praise our Maiden.”
“Our queen.”
Yes, she was. And we took our time for the city to see her heading off to take back her throne.
We passed someone taking down the posters of us Auster had plastered throughout the streets. In their place they began to hang a purple banner. Astraea’s constellation with her key through the middle adorned it, her black wings splayed proudly.
They were accepting her. Putting their faith in her. My pride in Astraea grew immeasurably.
