On the far left side, a fae is surrounded by stars, the moon covered by clouds beside him. He holds a dagger in his hand, the blade filled in white like the rest of the outlines. Lightning spears through the stars beside him, the blade lifted into the air.
To the right of that picture is a tree with a fae kneeling in front of it, holding the same blade in his hands. There’s no way to tell if it’s the same fae as the other picture, just that they’re both male. But a shadow is cast over the fae in front of the tree, as if darkness clings to him.
Further to the right, another image is drawn. This one is far different from the others. A fae male is depicted stabbing a human, a crown atop the human’s head. The moment I see the jagged line across the human’s eye, I know that it’s Moros—the very man who posed as the duke and has lived for centuries on dark magic.
This part must be the story the council told—of the last human king who caused darkness to fester in the empire, stoking the flames of war. They explained how he waskilled—a fatal wound that there was no coming back from… Only, he found a way to survive it.
I shudder and force myself to keep examining the etchings, my gaze falling to the last one.
My eyes widen, and I take a step back.
“What is this?” I breathe.
Willow turns to me, her gaze passing over all of us, her expression half-hidden by the shadows cast from the fire.
“A story left for someone to find,” Willow whispers. “The story of a dagger that can pierce through any darkness, cut through the darkest of evils.”
She pauses, her attention turning to the story displayed across the rock. I drag my gaze back to the last image, to where the lunaria flower is wrapped around the blade plunged into the human king’s stomach.
“Nightfall,” Calix breathes, his voice filled with quiet awe. “I thought it was just a legend?”
Aster reaches up, his fingers grazing the rocky surface. “It is very much a real thing.”
I can’t look away from the lunaria pods wrapped around the dagger. My chest tightens more the longer I look at it.
Aster continues, “We don’t fully understand the images, but?—”
“It’s a lunaria plant,” I whisper. “The flowers wrapped around the dagger.”
Everyone turns to me, but my gaze remains on the dagger and flower.
“You’re sure?” Willow pushes, her voice rising an octave.
I nod slowly, feeling the weight of everyone’s gazes on me.
“Blessed Divine,” Willow mutters. “We have a lot to discuss.”
Theyhave a lot more to discuss than we do.
“How did you come across this?” Calix questions.
Aster presses a hand to the wall, his brows pulled together as he gazes at it. “After the war, it was hard to be around the places Iused to be, so I volunteered for a sea patrol unit,” he begins, his eyes growing distant as he stares at the damp stone wall. “It was something the council, Queen Evelina, and King Senna had put in place early on. No one knew if the curse of the split was temporary or if it was a rift to divide our land forever.”
Aster swallows, his voice tight as he continues. “There weren’t many of us—just enough to cycle through, ensuring things remained the same. Ryug had been called back to his slumber when I joined the sea unit.”
Willow reaches over and places her hand in Aster’s; his fingers instantly curl around hers.
“One day, I ventured too far—much further than the perimeters set for patrol.” His jaw tightens, and he takes a deep breath. “There was a bad storm with currents far stronger than any Undine could swim against. It carried me away from the mainland and onto the sandbar we took you all to. This was before anyone knew Kauri existed, or that this island was here at all.”
Understanding surges through me as his story continues. My stomach swirls with unease, knowing what he is going to say next.Somethingled him to this cave.
“I was exhausted, with no choice but to go into the cave to rest, praying to Eurydice I would be able to find my way back home.” Aster laughs bitterly. “There’s only so much land to explore in Penyth, always a way to eventually find a village that would be able to point you in the direction back home.
“But the sea? She’s an unforgiving tempest with a never-ending, soulless void.” He looks at Willow, his voice raw. “To be lost at sea is to not only lose one’s life, but to lose one’s hope of ever being found.”
I shiver, feeling the weight of his words settle around the room. Maddox stares at him with a look of understanding filling his gaze. Aster clears his throat and lifts his eyes, taking a moment to meet all of our stares.
“When morning came, I woke up and explored the cave, mybody still weak from fighting against the current half the night,” he continues. “I found the drawings, hardly enough sunlight from the mouth of the cave to see by. But I knew it was about Nightfall, and it felt like a sign. It was as if Eurydice wanted me to find it.”
