“Like you’ll be healing me again.”
I flash her a grin, all teeth. “Don’t get your hopes up, Princess; those potions are worth more than you.” There’s an edge in my voice I can’t quite place. I try to shake it off, but it lingers.
“So why waste one on me?”
Grinding my teeth, I bite out, “I have orders, remember? Anyway, it looks like your dad taught you well.”
“What can I say? Looks like he wasveryforthcoming.” Avilyna chuckles, but it’s devoid of amusement, only sarcasm. If her story’s true, I can’t say I blame her for the bitterness; I might have judged her too quickly.
“Follow me. There’s a lookout post nearby. The portals used to be under constant surveillance, but since the Bloodmoon War, we’ve had to rotate patrols.” Pushing myself up, I offer her my hand. She’s so damn short, it’s almost cute.
“What about my stuff and your bike?”
“I’ll grab it later. Not exactly in the mood to stroll through the veil with a horde waiting on the other side.” I pause, giving her a pointed look. “Come on, Princess, use that pretty brain of yours.”
“Well, they say ignorance is bliss,” she snaps, her eyes narrowing with mock sweetness. “Guess I must be inparadise.”
There she is.
Avilyna quickens her pace, but it’s awkward, and I realize she’s limping. A forgotten muscle twitches at the corner of my mouth.
“Anything else you wanna know, Princess?”
“No! Actually, yes…” Her voice shifts, just a touch hesitant.
“The Bloodmoon War… did it happen recently?” I’m aware that she doesn't know much about Elgar, but to confirm that suspicion is unsettling. I never met anyone who wasn’t familiar with how the world works. In this case,myworld.
I can't even begin to picture what it would be like for anyone to wake up one day and have their reality destroyed. Actually, the Bloodmoon War did that. The thought hits harder than I’d expect, making me slow down, want to talk about it, something I don't normally do.
"It happened ten years ago, I was thirteen at the time.” My voice hardens as the memories flood in. "Elgarians? They were living the good life, getting all cozy while the enemy was quietly building its strength, waiting." I swallow, the memory thick in my throat. My voice drops, colder, rougher. “That day... everything changed.” I can feel her eyes locked on me, her unwavering focus making me uneasy.
“Netherworld tore through our homes. They hit five days before Grianstad Eve, the biggest celebration we have. But that’s why they did it; everyone was too busy celebrating to notice the signs. By the time we did, it was too late. Half of the population was wiped out in a heartbeat. A slaughter.”
The gravity of it all hangs heavy in the air.
“We only made it out because of the Queen. Camyla Eilgolor… the strongest valkyrie in centuries. Gave her life to push Nekros and his demons back into Netherworld. Burned herself out so the rest of us could keep breathing.” I don’t know what pushed me to say this version of the story, but I catch aflicker in her eyes. Recognition, maybe. It’s gone in a blink, so fast I’m not even sure it was real.
“I can’t imagine how hard that must’ve been,” Avilyna says quietly. No sarcasm, this time there’s something real in her voice, soft. And that makes me pause.
“Come on,” I say, pulling away from the moment before it swallows me. “The lookout post isn’t far.”
We move, and the silence stretches between us, but it’s not uncomfortable, just charged. Her limp gets worse with each step, and I’ve had enough of watching her grit through it. Turning around, I drop to one knee.
“Alright, saddle up, Princess,” I mutter, jerking a thumb over my shoulder. Avilyna gives me a look like I’ve sprouted a second head.
“For real?Princessagain? Did the memo get lost in the mail?” She taps the side of my head. “And I’m not getting on your back.” I glance back, my expression flat.
“If we keep moving atyourpace, we’ll be out here all damn night. And trust me, I don’t have the energy or the saint-like patience to entertain your questions while we’re dodging enemies.”
“Seriously?”
“Do Ieverlook like I’m kidding?”
She scowls, then turns and hobbles off like a pissed-off halfling on a mission.
“Really?” I call after her. “That’s the plan? Limp your way to safety? You don’t even know where you’re going!” In two strides, I’m beside her. “Didn’t peg you for the sensitive type.” Avilyna doesn’t answer, just keeps limping with all the stubborn pride she can muster.
So I do what any reasonable man would: I scoop her up. She lets out a sharp gasp, arms flailing for half a second.
