"Lower your weapons." Her command rang through the cavern.
The warriors obeyed instantly.
Kaelen approached me with careful steps, as if I might disappear. She stopped an arm's length away and searched my face.
"You really do have her eyes." Softer now. Almost gentle. "Silver and sharp and completely incapable of backing down from a fight. Though, right now, they have dimmed."
"You knew my mother?"
"I fought beside her for fifteen years." Kaelen's jaw tightened. "Before she made her choice."
Questions piled up behind my teeth, but Kaelen turned away before I could ask them.
"Get them inside. Clean water, hot food, medical attention for the injured." She glanced at Zephyr, who swayed despite Kane's support. "Full hospitality protocols."
Two warriors moved forward, not threatening, but escorting. Leading us deeper into the cavern system.
I followed because there was nowhere else to go.
The tunnel opened into a network of chambers carved from living rock. Everywhere I looked, I saw Fae preparing for war.
Not the peaceful, joy-filled community of Vaelthorne. These were soldiers, battle-scarred and hard-eyed, with weapons strapped to every available surface and armor showing signs of repeated repair.
They moved with purpose. Sharpening blades. Mixing compounds I didn't recognize. Reviewing maps pinned to makeshift boards. Speaking in low, urgent voices about supply lines and strategic positions.
The atmosphere tasted of controlled fury.
We passed through a main gathering space where perhaps a hundred warriors ate around scattered fires. Conversations died as we entered. Heads turned. Gazes followed.
Daemon's hand found the small of my back, grounding, protective.
"They're looking at you," he murmured.
"I noticed."
"Not with hostility."
He was right. The stares carried weight, but not threat. Something closer to… hope?
That terrified me more than hatred ever could.
Kaelen led us to a chamber near the back, larger than the others and clearly repurposed as a command headquarters. Maps covered every surface. Weapons lined the walls. A table dominated the center, buried under strategic documents and correspondence.
"Sit." Kaelen gestured toward chairs arranged in a loose circle. "We have much to discuss."
I sank into the nearest seat. My legs barely held me anymore.
Daemon remained standing beside me. Kael and Kane positioned themselves near the entrance. Zephyr collapsed gratefully into a chair, his face gray beneath the torchlight.
Kaelen crossed her arms and studied us with that penetrating stare. "You said Vaelthorne fell. Tell me everything."
Daemon recounted the attack, the explosion, the overwhelming numbers, the systematic slaughter. His voice stayed clinical, detached. But his shadows writhed with barely contained rage.
Kaelen listened without interruption. When he finished, she was silent for a long moment.
"Five hundred soldiers," she finally said. "Minimum. Probably closer to seven hundred, given the casualties you described." She moved to the map table and traced a route with one finger. "Which means Aeron stripped three border garrisons to mount that assault."
"You're not surprised." I couldn't keep the accusation from my voice.
