Generations of Oreans, gone.
But we are fighting back. With the battles at Breakwater, Cliffhelm, and Ranhold, Orea has managed to come together and beat them back.
And here in Highbell, where we expected great difficulty in encountering more of their army, where we’d expected a firm fae foothold, we’ve arrived to see they’ve already been knocked away by my brother.
There’s no time to waste. We have to keep pressing in, keep fighting back. Because against all odds, Orea is actually fucking winning.
The rotten trail of breadcrumbs Slade has left is a balm to my scorching worry. He was here. I don’t know what the hell happened, but he was here, so I’m going to pray that he made it across the bridge. That he’s found our mother and Auren and he’s bringing them both back.
Hope has started to billow.
“Did your sister and Thold decide when we leave for Seventh?” I ask Manu.
“Early tomorrow morning. I’ll send someone out to get your timberwings fed and watered in the perch. And despite the lingering stench, the castle has already been cleared and cleaned. There are plenty of rooms for everyone to rest until we leave.”
I nod and look back at Lu. “I’m going to go speak with some of the survivors.”
I’ll feel more reassured once I get confirmation with my own ears that Slade was here. That he did actually head for Seventh. I know he’s the most powerful person in Orea, and I’ve been trying to tell myself that he’s fine, but it’s a fucking relief to have proof that he’s not dead in a snowy ditch somewhere. Something had to have happened for him not to have shown up to Ranhold, but even so, he made sure to help rid us of the threat here.
“I’ll meet you all in the dining room at dawn,” I tell Lu. “Get some rest.”
“You too, Commander,” she says, and then I turn and follow Manu into the golden castle.
“Alright, I’ll say it,” Judd drawls from where he’s plopped on a dining room chair with a plateful of food in front of him. His yellow hair is still wet from washing. Everyone, him included, looks so much better now that we’ve all had a full night of sleep without danger banging down our doors. “Highbell Castle actually looks pretty fucking amazing.”
Lu snorts from where she sits next to him, mouth nearly bursting with a huge bite of food.
“Look at it,” he goes on, motioning a hand around the room. “It’s all so…gold.”
“What did you think it was gonna look like, asshole?” Osrik says as he keeps piling food onto Rissa’s plate. Her blonde brows go higher and higher with every spoonful he shovels on until she elbows him and makes him stop.
Judd looks over at Digby where he sits at the middle of the table. The guard keeps shifting in his chair, like he’suncomfortable to be in the formal dining room. Not that there’s muchformalabout it anymore. Chairs are mismatched, flatware missing, curtains ripped off the walls. It looks like the looters managed to make off with quite the stash.
“Dig, how long did it take Auren to gild this whole place?”
His brown eyes flick around the room, and Rissa watches him, thoughts seeming to churn through her eyes. “A long time, I suspect,” he says quietly. “I should have recognized it was her doing it. Midas was always secretive, rooms always closed up when he worked on them.”
“The cage was probably a tip-off,” Judd replies, gnawing off a hunk of bread.
“It should’ve been,” Digby replies grimly.
“It’s disgusting, what he did to her,” Rissa says, her mouth pinched. “How she was treated…”
I don’t think she’s only talking about Midas.
“It’s alright. Gildy got the last laugh. Midas is in a nice little golden tomb for all of eternity,” Judd says jovially. “I’m going to make it my holiday trip to go see him every year and laugh my ass off.” Rissa smirks at his words as he gets up from the table. “Alright, I’m going to go make sure our Elites are ready to go,” he says before swiping the goblet in front of Lu and draining it down.
“Hey!” she says.
He gives her a salute. “Too slow, Captain. Which is why I always win.”
“You donot.”
Judd hums. “Say that to the wine barrels. And the fight circle matches. My numbers are far superior.”
“You padded those numbers,” she argues, getting louder as he heads for the door. “And I’m the one with the longest running barrel time, and you fucking know it!”
His laughter echoes in the room as he walks out.
