Hope
Ciaran’s steps were silent against the white stone of the paths under the darkened glass panels in the enormous greenhouse in the courtrades’ main quarters.
“I have only ever seen this species in books,” he said, and Hope walked towards him when she finally stopped looking at the mesmerizing way a minuscule, almost transparent flower kept opening and closing its petals, as if it was breathing. “I didn’t think they could grow in Thyria.”
“They can’t,” a voice replied calmly. Hope’s hands were on the hilts of the daggers on her waist belt as she tried to find where this person was speaking from. The voice continued,approaching yet unseen. “This greenhouse replicates the exact salty humidity, temperature, and light conditions of Orizane.”
The flower bed right in front of them opened, the soil and flora splitting in two symmetric halves, leaving space for a white staircase trailing downstairs. A woman finished climbing the stairs, and only when she stood in front of Ciaran and Hope, was the height difference significantly obvious. The top of the woman’s head, with pink and purple streaks through her white hair, barely reached Hope’s shoulders. Her eyes were brown and clever, and her lips twitched awkwardly to the side, as if she was smiling, but a permanent scar or sequelae of an injury impeded her lips from full movement.
“Llunal warned me of your arrival,” she said, nodding at both Hope and Ciaran. Her tone was graver than the average female voice would be. “It is my honor to finally meet you, Darkness Commander.”
Did she have direct communication with Llunal as well? Llunal was way chattier than the Cardinals were, that much was clear.Whispering, gossiping god, Lenna had once called him. Perhaps she hadn’t been that far off.
“Elara Sinnatria,” Ciaran said, bowing his head without interrupting his eye contact with the woman. “The honor is mine. My grandfather has told me a lot about you.”
The twitch on her mouth reappeared. “Always a kind, night-blessed soul, Stevian. I haven’t seen him in centuries, since his daughter, since your mother—” She cut herself off, narrowing her eyes as her hand formed a crescent shape in front of her heart. “The hatred knowing the former Organ Mandor murdered your mother for being like us kept me awake for decades, Commander. I am only grateful he was stupid enough to think amputating the arm with your courtrade mark was enough to remove Llunal’s magic from your body. If he had known youwould be responsible and in charge of Llunal’s army today, I am confident he would have murdered you too.”
“I never thought I would be grateful for my father’s stupidity,” Hope said, stretching her hand until she held Ciaran’s metallic one, holding it firmly. “As for your mother, Ciaran—your revenge was served when you wielded the weapon that stopped the heart of her murderer.”
The metal ring on his lip bobbed slightly as he lifted his eyebrows. “Wewielded the weapon.”
“Semantics.”
Elara nodded, crossing her arms across her chest. “Good. There are too many beings and too little space in this world to allow undeserving ones to stay alive. A lot needs doing, Commander, and we have little time. If you will follow me.”
They followed her down the seemingly endless staircase until they eventually reached a hemispherical, dark room half as big as the Cardinals Temple itself. Every single star and the red moon shone on the ceiling. It was a breathtaking recreation of Llunal’s real creation and the marvelous work he had done in creating the stars that illuminated the skies of their world.
Elara walked towards the center of the room, where a white crescent moon was engraved in the dark stone. From there, she lifted her arms, and aimed streaks of shadows towards three specific stars in different parts of the room.
Her shadows weren’t dark, but lighter than any others Hope had seen a courtrade wield. They were a light tone of grey, and when they touched the shining representations of the stars, a metallic door appearing right in front of Elara followed an unlocking sound. She opened it and walked through, keeping it open from the other side while Ciaran and Hope crossed.
In front of them was a long table occupied by high-ranking courtrades, along with a few more who had not traveled from Orizane with them. Hope knew they were high-ranking becausethey were the ones leading the other fourteen navias of Ciaran’s fleet—the ones he had instructed to erect shadow blocks around their vehicles and seek refuge. On top of the table was a three-dimensional map of Thyria, with the major cities marked, significant buildings taking form amongst houses and streets. It reminded Hope of the table she had seen months ago in the courtrades’ quarters in Verdania, where she had met—
“Marcus,” Hope said, after looking around the men and women and identifying him.
“The stars aligned for us to meet again, Hope Nevada. Commander, you have the best company with you,” he greeted them. Marcus’s hair was cut just below his ears, messy dark waves flanking his defined face. He had let his beard grow longer than the last time Hope saw him, but his dark eyes were as piercing as always.
“Apologies for the delay in getting here,” Ciaran said, putting his hands on the table as he examined the courtrades around him. “How are your troops, captains?”
The fourteen captains spoke one by one, explaining what their losses had been, how their people had fought, and how they had escaped the sangins. Those who hadn’t fared as well fully explained how many were injured and how many deaths they had. Ciaran asked the names of each individual courtrade who had been impaired or harmed in any way, as well as those who hadn’t made it.
From what they were saying, it seemed only a few random sangins had decided to chase the shadow-covered navias, and most had followed the navia where Hope, Ciaran, and Jake had fought from. Which was a very positive thing, as otherwise the outcome of ten dead courtrades would have been incredibly higher.
“May Llunal shade their bodies and give their deaths a purpose in the afterlife,” Ciaran whispered, when the lastcaptain, a woman with half her head shaved and an ear full of metal rings, finished speaking.
“Captains, thank you. You may return to your areas,” Elara ordered, and before everyone stood, she turned to Ciaran. “Commander, do you wish for all courtrades to know you have been here, or for it not to leave this room?”
“Please tell every courtrade that I thank them for their relentlessness and strength. Tell them I am working closely with the new Organ Mandor, Hope Nevada, to reestablish order in Thyria. In my absence, Marcus Olanett will act as the Dusk General, my second in command. In his absence, the Third Star will be Elara Sinnatria. Their voices are mine, and as such, they must be obeyed. The plan will be shared in due time, but their shadows will be needed to fight in this battle. Until then, they must train fiercely and keep their shadows sharp and ready to strike and their faith in Llunal stronger than ever. Remember: our god of night will protect us, and the night is nothing but shadows and stars.”
“The night is nothing but shadows and stars,” the captains repeated, some of them louder than others, some profusely nodding as others patted their hearts, as they all abandoned the room until only Hope, Ciaran, and his second and third in command, Marcus and Elara, stood around the table.
Now that she could inspect the map in front of them, Hope saw Thyria was in the middle of the Radel Sea, as well as other islands, Verdania and Orizane amongst them, all part of the Frenya Archipelago. Within Thyria, there was so much more than just a representation of buildings and key areas.
What from afar looked like uneven ground were in reality multiple black pins with little crescent moons across the entire island. Nothing but courtrades could be represented by Llunal’s mark. Then there were a handful of red pins with panom marks at the top, mostly around each House in the North, East,West and South Petals. In the Organ House, right next to the Cardinals’ Temple, was a big, black pin with a crystal black feather—the Cardinal Queen.
Marcus tapped his fingers on the table as he furrowed his brow. “The plan will be shared in due time, you said?” he asked Ciaran. “What plan?”
“There is no plan because we don’t know shit. That’s why we came here,” Ciaran confessed.
