I tried not to flinch or react, but I was accidentally holding our hands against my chest, and I felt the way my heart began to race. Nothing could have prepared me for this conversation. Even if I had been ready, I had no idea what to think or feel about it. Was Altair about to call me his friend?
“Maybe it’s ridiculous to say, but I’ve really enjoyed having you here. And I guess I’m afraid of you going away. Or turning into one of those thoughtless rebels who follows the commanderwithout question. Or…” I waited with baited breath, too afraid to exhale the air I’d sucked in. “Or that you’ll decide I’m not worthy of being your ally and never speak to me again.”
“You sure do love to surprise me.” Because what else was I supposed to say?
“Yes, I do.” He chuckled, his smile half-hearted as he finally looked back up at me, his body relaxing and the anger seeming to bleed from him. “Promise me you’ll give me a heads up if you plan to leave.”
It felt horribly wrong to lie to him as he stared so openly at me. He’d been far more honest than I had any reason to expect—more than I deserved—secret rebellion aside. But lying to him then seemed like the wrong thing to do. So, I internally made a clarification, if only to alleviate some of my guilt.
“I promise.”As long as it’s what’s best.“By the way, you and I are attending the next rebel leadership meeting.”
Letting his head fall back, he groaned, standing up after. I followed, eager to put the strangely intimate and honest conversation behind us.
“Let me at least make myself some tea before you tell me how that happened. Coffee?”
Smiling, I said, “I’d love some.”
***
The books Altair had brought me were nothing short of incredible. They were more extensive than anything else I’d ever read, including the books supplied by Elite Academy. The reason was obvious to anyone who paid attention while reading.
These books werehonest.
Despite the fact they werecorebooks, they were otherwise invaluable. The one I was reading,The Final War and First Gift,detailed out the beginning and end of the final world waron Dajahim. It started with resources. One leader, Efram Jarste, began outright attacking a country rich in gold and livestock. It was a small country often vilified for their worship of the land. While everyone believed in and somewhat bowed to the stars today, it wasn’t uncommon to disregard them before the introduction of magic. There was no proof, no undeniable sign that the stars were truly sentient, magical beings.
Still, the people of Iditra—the country that had a natural abundance of gold through rivers and mines—were not favored for their deep belief in the magic of their land. When Efram Jarste began utilizing explosives deposited on Iditran land by his soldiers to brutally slaughter civilians, the war began. Countries took sides. Gold was exchanged. Entire civilizations fell. Death conquered.
When our continent—previously known as Alam Jadid—joined the fight, the Dremly King vied for total control. We, who had the strongest military forces and the wealthiest system, quickly dominated. It hadn’t been the first world war, but it had been the one that threatened to cause the extinction of all humanity on Dajahim.
So the stars showed themselves.
The magic didn’t trickle slowly into soldiers, it poured down upon them—raining over the very base the shaytan military still resided in. First thought to be a strange illness, magic eventually became an extraordinary weapon.
The text described how difficult it was to use magic at first, because there was no information available that taught the soldiers how important intent was. Magic couldn’t be dictated by spoken words or conduits like fairytales suggested. No, the magic that ran through their bodies bowed only to a focused mind. Each soldier had to quickly learn how to speak intentions and hone their thoughts.
But once they did, blood spilled in waves. The entirety of the planet fell, leaving only the continent ruled by the Dremlys. The continent itself was separated into what were once called provinces, though that’d change to districts as magic became more prominent and the stars’ rule took hold.
The last interesting thing lay in the wording used to describe the cores.
Though the elite group of warriors that led the Alam Jadid forces were seen as heroes, they did not possess stronger magic or superior abilities. In fact, they only became revered when the stars blessed them beyond that of the other soldiers, gifting them darkness in their veins. Even then, they were never deemed rulers, for they were not of royal blood. They were not seen as worthy of a crown.
How chilling, to read those words from someone who knew the truth of society and the world. A person who saw the core families for exactly what they were. I was quite sure the author hadn’t lived long after.
Lifting my gaze, I spotted Altair across the way, sitting at his table. He had a burner between his pink lips, the pale wrapping starting to blacken at the edges. Both of his brows were pinched together as he slid a sharp and jagged knife across a chunk of wood. When I’d suggested he find a hobby, I hadn’t expected carving to be the one he chose.
Like always, he was unnaturally good at it.
We’d both agreed not to make any concrete plans until after we attended the rebel meeting, but I still wanted to be prepared for anything they might say. That was why I’d chosen that particular book. Any understanding of war was helpful.
Altair, who couldn’t care less about reading, groaned and complained at my side until I finally snapped. Now, he sat there,so focused he didn’t seem to notice the way Death nibbled on his sweater from her place on his lap.
“What are you making?” I asked, bending the corner of my page to mark my spot. His knife stilled, his eyes meeting mine.
“A wooden sculpture.”
“Really? I thought it was a pancake.” He rolled his eyes, looking back down at the wood and beginning again. “I mean what are you carving?”
“Murder.”
