Page 109 of Darkness Births the Stars #1
CHAPTER
Noctis
R ada’s scream jolted me from my troubled thoughts. My gaze snapped to the open kitchen window, my body tensing up only to relax immediately at the sound of a child’s wild laughter.
“Varien! Don’t you dare.” Mirth colored Rada’s voice, despite her attempt to sound stern. A loud splash. Then a lot of giggling, followed by even more splashing.
Curiosity got the better of me, and I struggled to my feet, wincing at the dull ache in my chest. Three days had passed since our confrontation with Deira and Kaius, and I was still nursing my wounds.
The Water stone would have sped up my recovery, but Kyree had taken it—and the Air stone Rada entrusted him with—to Dalath.
With the looming threat of the other Chiasma and Galator, we desperately needed those lyr -stones.
Yet I hesitated to press Rada to retrieve them; the Aerieth’s accusations still echoed in my mind.
The quarrel with her friend had cast a shadow of sorrow in her eyes that haunted me.
I had been right. My presence had stolen her peace.
As I peered out of the window, a smile tugged on my lips.
Varien and Rada stood in the pasture beside the barn, a large barrel of water between them.
They were using water pumps to hose down the araks, providing relief on the hot summer day.
Though not all the water landed on the animals.
Varien seized every chance to splash Rada, leaving her braid and white cotton dress soaked.
The boy laughed loudly when she retaliated, ducking behind the barrel.
The sun illuminated Rada’s face, a carefree joy shining on it. Was this how she would have looked if she had been granted a normal life? If she could have married Farm Boy and found simple happiness with a family of her own? My stomach churned at the thought.
“Aren’t you supposed to wash them, not each other?
” Briseis had appeared at the fence of the enclosure, dressed in her leathers, her bow slung over one shoulder and a hare over the other.
I recalled that the Elf was a hunter. She treated me like one of the great predators she might have encountered in the Northern Forest during her youth—no fear in her expression, but a watchful alertness, her blue eyes tracking my every move.
I stepped back from the window before she could notice me.
Since the Chiasma and their Rakash had laid waste to her and Varien’s little hut, they had accompanied Rada and me down from Milford Ridge.
We had decided to return to the farm, at least until I had recovered.
The three of them had cleared out the guest room for the Elves to sleep in.
If Briseis had any opinions about Rada and me openly sharing a bedroom, the former Elvish princess kept them to herself.
Not that we ever did more than rest beside each other.
My wound still troubled me too much to entertain any other thoughts, and there was an unspoken tension between us, the weight of countless unsaid words. We needed to talk. Truly talk.
The door creaked open, and Rada burst in, her face still lit up with a smile as she ran her fingers through her loose, slightly damp locks .
“How do you feel?” she asked, noticing me in the kitchen.
“Like I’m sick and tired of being useless,” I replied honestly. The drain on my magic had left me too weak to assist when Rada and Briseis had taken care of the dead Rakash and the Kritak, and watching them work tirelessly had only added to the guilt weighing me down.
Rada nodded in understanding, a compassionate look in her eyes as she moved past me to one of the storage cupboards. I couldn’t help but notice how her damp dress clung to the enticing curve of her ass as she bent down to retrieve a bowl of potatoes.
“You can help me peel these for dinner. They’ll pair nicely with the hare Briseis caught,” she remarked, sliding two knives from the block on the counter. I hummed in agreement and followed her to the table, taking a seat across from her. For a while, we focused on our task in comfortable silence.
“I don’t think I’ve told you often enough,” I finally said, setting down my knife. “What you’ve built here on this farm is extraordinary.” A self-deprecating laugh escaped me. “You thrived, while I barely survived, wasting my days wallowing in self-pity.”
Rada didn’t look up from the potato in her hand, likely sensing there was more to come.
“Still, I can’t help but wonder why,” I continued. “Why are you still here, Baradaz? Even as a mortal, you could be so much more.”
Rada remained silent, her gaze downcast, her grip on the knife so tight her knuckles turned white. “You shattered my heart into a million pieces,” she finally whispered, her voice breaking. “Not once, not twice, but so many times that I feared there was nothing left to mend.”
Her gaze filled with such anguish that I wished I hadn’t spoken, hadn’t pressed her for the truth .
“You are right.” She abandoned her task and began pacing. “I am hiding here. And I know it’s pathetic. But this role I play, the simple farmer—it’s all I could manage for a very long time.”
With her back to me, Rada halted, trembling under the weight of her emotions.
“Not interfering when they dragged you out of the Temple of Order to throw you into the Abyss…” A slight turn of her head, the silvery glint of her tears catching the light.
“It destroyed me. As surely as if I had been sentenced to death myself.” Her voice was so choked that I could barely discern her next words.
“I should have done something… I should have—”
“No.” I was on my feet in an instant, but hesitated to approach her. Part of me feared that Kyree had been right, that my deeds were too terrible to ever be forgiven, even by her.
I swallowed hard. If she stayed with me, it had to be with clear eyes. She deserved to know the entire truth about the end of the war.
“It took me some time, but I realized that you and Masir were right,” I said, struggling to find the right words. “I had gone too far, lost every semblance of control I ever had over Chaos. I became the monster everyone accused me of being. The monster your friend sees in me.”
She turned to me then, her eyes wide and anguished, tears glistening on her cheeks. “Belekoroz…”
I didn’t deserve her compassion. Not for this.
“That last time we met… when you lied to me, promising to be my queen. When the Ten chained me once more…” Pain flashed across her face, raw and haunting.
It almost made me stop, but I pressed on, my voice barely more than a rasp.
“You have no idea how close I came to hurting you. To doing things you would never have forgiven me for, things I could never have forgiven myself. ”
Chaos had ruled me that night. Chaos and hate.
I had hated her then—for turning away from me, for always choosing my brother, for making me want her with a single-minded obsession that bordered on insanity.
Aron-Lyr’s surrender had been within my grasp, my armies closing in on Lyrheim, all opposition crushed. Yet it had meant nothing without her.
Rada watched me, her gaze devoid of the disgust and accusation I had expected. “But you didn’t,” she said softly.
But I had been close, so close. Her feigned submission had not quelled my wrath; instead, it had ignited all my darkest impulses, a terrifying urge to cause her the same pain she had inflicted on me, to make her pay.
“It’s bad enough that I even contemplated it,” I forced out. Stars, I didn’t deserve her. I never had.
But Rada stepped closer, taking my hand.
Never afraid of me, even though she should be.
“I wondered about that night,” she said calmly.
“You were always the most cunning of us. You had defeated us on the battlefield, your armies surrounded Lyrheim, victory was yours.” Her fingers intertwined with mine, a knowing spark in her gaze.
“It was careless to fall for Masir’s and my ploy. ”
She always saw too much. All the darkness, all the light. All the things I hid even from myself. My defenses were useless against her, but somehow, letting her in felt like liberation, not defeat.
“At that point, I didn’t know how to stop,” I said, gripping her hand tightly. She didn’t flinch.
“Mmm,” she murmured, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her lips. “Would it help if I reminded you I’ve tried to kill you several times over the ages?”
I chuckled. “If you had ever truly wanted me dead, Baradaz, I would be. No question about it. ”
Her smile widened, her eyes sparkling with amusement and something deeper. “Because I am more powerful than you?”
“No,” I replied honestly. “Because I would do nothing to stop you, my queen.”
Rada’s touch was as light as a feather against my face, yet it struck me with the force of lightning. Nothing, however, could compare to the impact of her next words.
“No judgment between us.”
Those words left me speechless. For I understood the weight they carried. An offer. To leave behind all the pain and betrayal of our past. To embrace the glimmer of hope shining in her eyes, daring me to believe we could be something more than enemies this time, something better.
I could give her only one answer.
“No judgment between us,” I echoed, capturing her hand and drawing her into my arms. Rada came willingly, resting her head against my chest as I breathed in the soothing scent of snowdrops.
We stayed entwined for a long time, savoring those stolen moments that healed some of the scars marring our hearts. With a deep sigh, Rada finally stirred in my embrace. “I want the truth, Belekoroz,” she demanded. “All of it. Why did you seek out the Chiasma?”