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Chapter 17

IRIS

If Vaelithe was a realm built into the earth itself, Reilune was one built into the sky.

Almost every city in the realm, save for those dedicated to trade, was woven into a sprawling, interconnected web high among the trees. Sturdy platforms jutted above us, connected by long bridges and walkways. Homes, shops, schools, and trade centers perched atop them with ample space for the flying creatures that claimed the skies. Dozens of enchanted wooden structures resembling gazebos rose and fell amid the trees, the glowing dials embedded in the bark controlling the lifts for those without Sygens to reach the cities.

Reilune was an aerie, built first and foremost for the creatures that inhabited it.

Nadya lifted a hand to the sky, the opalescent tattoo spiraling up her left arm flaring to life. Dirt sprayed around us as a creature, shimmering in the same hue, landed before our party, wings spread wide.

We all stood in awe of the Goddess Haven’s gift to Reilune.

Long ago, Haven crafted legendary beasts for each realm. Sylvanite wardens, she called them, tasked with protecting the source of the land’s magic—the Sylvan Blooms.

Having once walked Felviran beside the first Ethera, all but the Sygens were now little more than myth. A handful of Solyndra’s Phoenixes remained, mostly in sanctuaries, but the Sylvanites of the outer realms—the many-headed Driftwyrms of Marikaim, the feline Grovestalkers of Vaelithe, and the foreboding Rimehorns of Kacidon—had been extinct for millennia, preserved only through the royal crests. No one knew why the Sygens continued to thrive in Reilune, as much a part of the ecosystem as the Ethera, while the others had perished.

Sygens bore resemblance to many of the legendary winged creatures of the Divine, while uniquely suited to form the ideal aerial military force. Their rider’s—Volants—were marked during the Sacrament with tattoos establishing the strength of their bond.

The four-legged creatures stretched the length of two horses, talons curling from each foot. Scales rippled along their serpentine bodies, leaving space for no more than two riders. Thick, membranous wings protruded from their backs, translucent with an iridescent sheen. Large feathers ran along the outer edges, while tufts of fur lined the rigid spines. Bioluminescent patterns, labyrinthine and brilliant, scrawled across their bodies, trailing to their tails—which were rumored to resemble the petals of Reilune’s Sylvan Bloom. Their reptilian heads bore sharp eyes, long, furred ears, and wing-like protrusions at either temple.

“Karhu,” I smiled as the creature lowered its head, pressing its scaled forehead to my friend’s.

Nadya’s paired Sygen was moon-white, with markings resembling her tattoo—swirling patterns with soft arches and delicate angles—trailing along its opalescent scales in the exact shade of teal as her eyes.

At first glance, one might assume Karhu’s color was a liability for Nadya, stealth and concealment vital to her work. However, from the moment they met during her Volant training, the symbiosis between Nadya, Karhu, and her shadows was something to behold—rendering them just as elusive in the night as she was alone.

Beside me, Theon took a hesitant step toward the pair, mouth slightly agape. A silent exchange passed between him and Nadya. She nodded, urging him forward.

Before he could take another step, the sharp crunch of bone split the air.

All four heads snapped toward the fading portal.

The two esteemed princes were rolling in the leaf-strewn dirt, a tangle of long limbs and swinging fists. Blood covered both their faces, though it was unclear who’d landed the first hit.

I stepped forward, unsure of what I intended to do, but two steady hands stopped me, firm on my shoulders.

“What in the fucking Divine kind of guards are you?” I rounded on Nadya and Theon, aghast to see them both shaking their heads in unison.

Though I hadn’t yet unraveled the full dynamic between Theon and Aspen, I had spent years watching Nadya defend Ferrin—even at times when he didn’t deserve it. She would sooner cut off her own hand and feed it to Karhu than put Ferrin in harm’s way. It was instinct at this point for her to intervene when there was a threat to his safety.

“They need this,” was Nadya’s only reply, her face unreadable. “It’s been a long time coming,” Theon added, spinning me back around with an arm slung over my shoulder. “Let’s enjoy the show, shall we?”

I had to admit, the whole thing was oddly cathartic. Not to mention wildly amusing.

Fists flew, more often than not finding their mark. White and mahogany hair streaked with bright red blurred past as they moved with the preternatural speed of our kind, but not a single trace of magic crackled in the air. Whatever lay between them would be settled with raw force alone.

A gust of wind sent leaves spiraling as a flare of emerald green streaked through the clearing. The earth trembled as Merikh’s clawed talons struck the ground.

The brawling men stilled as a low rumble picked up a gust of bright flecked leaves, the glowing fungi dotting the forest floor with light shuddering in turn. Merikh’s silver markings danced in the moonlight as she craned her emerald neck, reptilian eyes narrowing.

Both princes sprawled in the dirt, chests heaving, blood dripping as they glared at one another. Ferrin’s paired Sygen let out a huff, unimpressed, as five pairs of eyes settled on the scene.

Ferrin wiped a dirty hand across his face, gathering the blood leaking from his nose as he pushed upright. Green eyes locked onto blue-grey, unblinking. A moment passed, thick with something unspoken, before Ferrin extended a hand.

Aspen’s gaze narrowed, his eyes raking over the prince before accepting the offer and pulling to stand.

He spat a mouthful of blood onto the ground before meeting Ferrin’s gaze again.

I braced for impact as he reached up, but his hand never made contact. Instead, a bright light emanated from his palm and Ferrin’s split lip stitched back together, the flow of blood from his nose receding.

The Reilune heir rolled his shoulders, shaking out his shoulder length curls as Aspen mirrored the motion, healing his own injuries.

I thrust a tin of salve between them, wordlessly offering it for whatever bruises remained.

Ferrin ran his fingers along the sharp edges of his face, checking for damage.

“Chin up,” Theon beamed as he flung a stream of water over them. “You still look carved by the Divine.”

Ferrin huffed a laugh, shaking the droplets from his hair. Even dirtied and bloodied, Theon’s assessment rang true. His prominent nose, strong brow, and sculpted jaw and cheekbones remained utterly pristine—like the statues of the Divine I had once seen in the bronze palace.

The two men exchanged one last silent look, before nodding in tight agreement.

“Are we to ride them?” Aspen asked warily, nodding toward the winged beasts. He looked as though he’d rather hurl himself off the nearest treetop.

“Sygens will only carry those that their paired trusts completely,” Nadya flicked a shadow at him, the serpentine force snapping near his shoulder. “And as Iris is the only one here that meets those criteria, you Kacidonians would be stranded. Or dropped in the endless ravine. Their choice.”

A huff of agreement left Merikh’s emerald snout.

“Wonderful, glad the decision to walk is settled.” Theon gestured dramatically ahead. “Now, can we get a fucking move on?”

I looped an arm through his and Nadya’s. “Agreed—we’re already three tankards behind.”

Nadya led the way out of the clearing, onto a short dirt path, the two princes trailing behind. Aspen summoned a gust of wind, drying his clothes and clearing all evidence of the fight. Ferrin let out an exaggerated sigh, pouting in Aspen’s direction.

When the white-haired prince didn’t respond, Ferrin added loudly, “How ever will I dry off?”

“Walk briskly, I suppose,” Aspen replied, without sparing as much as a backwards glance.