A man’s voice replied firmly, “Then it must remain scattered. As we agreed.”
Kara edged a little closer, straining to hear.
“–heard nothing from Navyr. No hawk or wind messenger. No sign of this,” said a deep and unshaken voice. Her father.
“But this Arcalon was supposed to prove our magic was strong,” the woman insisted. “And after what happened yesterday–”
“That was... unfortunate. Very unfortunate,” the first man said, and his voice broke slightly.
“But what does it mean? What if it does come to pass?” asked the woman, the fear clear in her voice now.
“We have our unity. It was enough once before,” her father said.
The woman spoke again. “And if it’s not this time?”
No one answered her.
But their footsteps drew closer.
Panic coursed through Kara. She ran through a nearby gate and out of sight. Her pulse raced and her mind buzzed with questions.
She knew about the Drakens. They’d been allies once, Vallenna and Draknor. Occarlia too. But when Draknor began to twist the Arcanth’s magic, tried to hurt people, Vallenna had fought against them. The Occarli stayed neutral in the Dark War – but Vallenna won anyway.
What threat did Draknor pose now?
And the Arcalon was supposed to be a proof of strength? Was that why the trials were more dangerous, more brutal this year? Had Rosalie given her life for atest?
What was it the Council knew?
A prophecy?
That’s what it sounded like. If Fatànhadshared something with them, they were keeping it from the rest of Vallenna. Her feet carriedher to the training grounds without conscious thought and she stopped short. Sebastian was there, blade flashing in the weak morning light, each strike too sharp, too fast. His hair already damp with sweat.
“Couldn’t sleep?” she called to him.
He whipped around in surprise, sword raised. His stance relaxed when he saw her. “Didn’t know healers rose with the sun.”
Kara folded her arms. “Didn’t know soldiers trained through the night.”
“Training?” He lowered his blade. “I call it keeping sharp.”
She hesitated, then asked more softly, “Are you okay?”
“Never better,” he said – too quickly. He flashed a crooked smile, but the shadows under his eyes told a different story. He tilted his head. “Want to spar with me?”
She raised a brow. “No, thanks,” she said. “I’d be more likely to hurt myself than you.”
He huffed a short laugh. “Fair enough, Healer.”
And with that, he turned back to his forms, the dismissal clear. She should leave. Should go back to the barracks, forget what she’d heard, trust the Council like a good daughter.
But her legs wouldn’t move.
She wanted to tell him. The words rising before she’d thought better of it. Kara caught herself. She barely knew him after all – one moment of shared magic didn’t make him an ally. He could use this against her. But Sebastian was a soldier – Thorne’s second commander at that – just returned from war in the Isles. If there was truly a threat to Vallenna, he deserved to know.
And he was here, the weight of what she’d overheard was suffocating, and–
Don’t let this be a mistake.
