Holding her breath, she reached for the intricate piece of jewelry, the cold touch of metal sending a shiver up her arm. Exhaling, Serenna tightened her grip and squared her shoulders before crossing the chamber.
She extended the artifact to Kaedryn—not just to return it, but as a token of goodwill. A gesture meant to be a bridge, to test whether trust could be built.
“I’d like you to instruct Vesryn,” Serenna said, waving to where he was picking through trays of food under Jassyn’s watchful eye, “on how to wield this crystal. We have two of our own, but we don’t know how to harness them—or what they truly are.”
Kaedryn’s claw hovered over the gem as she glanced between the jewelry and the prince. “The relics were passed down from our ancestors.” After a pause, she nodded and accepted it. Slipping her fingers into the rings, she fastened the web ofchains and delicate clasps. “They’re Aelfyn devices, but most of the crystals we possess have been depleted of their starlight.”
Aelfyn devices.A cold knot twisted in Serenna’s stomach. In a way, their theories about the artifacts had been right. It made sense that Kaedryn’s people shared Aelfyn origins—all wraith did.But how did they come to be druids?
She needed to prioritize her questions, tread carefully through this fragile diplomacy. And shehadto succeed, because failure meant Lykor might try to beat the answers out of them.
With thinly veiled unease, Kaedryn tracked Vesryn, who was now meandering around the room.
Serenna decided it would be best to speak to the leader alone—especially if the prince’s presence continued to unsettle her. “Would you show me the gardens?” she asked.
Kaedryn’s eyes flared softly as she dipped her head. “It would be my honor.”
She shifted back into her wraith form, the clawed talons on her wing tips clicking together before they vanished.
She beckoned for Serenna to follow, guiding her through an arched doorway and down a spiral sandstone staircase that led to the lush courtyard below. With each graceful step, the folds of Kaedryn’s robes whispered apart, revealing fleeting glimpses of her shoulder blades through the flowing panels.
Serenna broke the silence, careful to keep her tone light and conversational—not prying. “You’re able to shift so seamlessly. Is there a reason some druids choose to keep their scales and wings visible, while others don’t?”
Kaedryn slowed at the foot of the stairs, lips curving into a faint, almost self-conscious smile. “The wings grow heavy, even for those accustomed to the skies.” Amusement flickered in her eyes. “Though, those with something to prove—typically males—keep them out as if it’s a mark of strength.”
As she stepped into the cushioned grasses, Serenna released a laugh that unraveled some of her tension. She knew a few who’d do the same.
The sweet scent of jasmine drifted in the nearly cool air, as if they were a world apart from the desert’s golden fury rather than merely on the other side of a wall. Rectangular pools mirrored the sky, wide-petaled flowers floating on the surface, their layered leaves unfurling in blushing shades of dawn.
“This place is beautiful,” Serenna breathed as they followed a winding path deeper into the garden’s heart. “Do your people have other havens like this?”
“No,” Kaedryn murmured, her solemn expression bearing the weight of centuries. “We are the last.”
“I’m sorry,” Serenna said quietly, sensing a sorrow too vast for words. “We believed your race had faded into myth. But to see your people alive…” Her head tipped to the sky as a squad of druids flew overhead, silhouetted by the evening sun. “It’s as if a legend has stepped out of the past.”
“Our way of life fell into shadow centuries before my time, when the world fractured.” Despite the absence of her wings, Kaedryn’s shoulders curved inward as they walked through the peace of the garden. “My ancestors chose preservation over war. It may seem selfish, but for the remnant, it was survival.”
Jassyn’s theories from Centarya resurfaced in Serenna’s mind. How the druids had sacrificed themselves a thousand years ago to curse the Aelfyn’s reign.
Kaedryn drew to a halt beneath a trellis where trumpet-shaped flowers spilled down on vines. “I never dared to dream that the gifts of the earth would return within my lifetime.” She idly traced the delicate chains of jewelry looped around her claw. “We’ve waited for those like you—hoping you might help reclaim what was lost.”
Serenna’s heart quickened as uncertainty fluttered under her ribs.They might need us as much as we need them.
“What did you lose?” she asked, her voice gentle but pressing.
“Everything.” Kaedryn’s talons clicked against the Starshard cradled in her palm as she formed a fist. “Our ancestors ruled the skies, but they were also stewards of power that shielded our lands. That strength vanished when a faction of Aelfyn chained the last of the dragons.”
Serenna’s breath caught.Does she know where they are?The question burned on her tongue, but she sank her teeth into the inside of her cheek to hold it back. She forced herself to wait. To listen.
“There was an alliance once,” Kaedryn whispered. “Druids, shamans, and the last of the dragons purged the corrupted Aelfyn from these shores. But it came at a cost, and the earth’s blessings withered.”
She stared at tiny birds flitting between flowering bushes, their wings a blur of green and umber. “They had no choice but to abandon the human tribes scattered on the other side of the mountains and sea,” she continued, grief pooling between her words. “The remnant stayed in Asharyn, the last city, guarding what remained—waiting for the New Dawn.”
“The New Dawn,” Serenna echoed, sensing the ancient hope in those words.
Kaedryn’s gaze lifted, meeting hers. “The earth is reawakening. You, a child of earth and starlight, are proof of that. But it also means our time is expiring. We always knew the Aelfyn would return—stronger than before—to reclaim what they once bound in chains.”
A shadow of confusion and shame flickered over Kaedryn’s face. “The Aelfyn with you—he carries the starlight of the betrayers. That is why his death was required.”
