Page 17 of Darkness Births the Stars #1
CHAPTER
Rada
I had to stop doing this.
Shaking my head to clear my vision in the pouring rain, I clutched my spear tighter.
I had not dared to grab another weapon, fearing that whoever was lurking outside would catch me inside the house.
A magic wielder had the advantage in close combat, their powers devastating.
In the open, I could dodge any attack. And—I touched my pocket, reassured by the presence of the lyr -stone I had quickly retrieved from its hiding place—going outside might prevent me from burning the entire house down if I had to resort to using Fire magic.
My heart raced as I kept to the shadows, drawing closer to the barn entrance. Frustrated anger welled up inside me. This was all Noctis’s fault. I was quite sure this was whoever had tried to kill him.
Though my irritation was directed more at myself than at my unwelcome guest. Here I was, sneaking through the dark to protect the life of the man I had every reason to wish dead. Would I honestly never learn ?
I sprinted to the edge of the barn, ignoring the icy rain that drenched my blouse, plastering it to my skin. Shaking off the ghosts of the past, I peered into the darkness in search of the all-too-real threats in the present.
Empty. Selma and Itzi, the two araks near the entrance, greeted me with sleepy moans, indicating that there was no intruder.
Yet I knew what I had seen earlier—a dark figure, briefly illuminated by the glowing tendrils of Chaos magic. I lingered at the barn’s threshold, weighing the dangers of returning to the house versus venturing further into the shadows.
“Looking for something specific?”
A cold voice, dripping with cruel amusement, pierced the silence. Light flared up without warning. Whirling around, I raised my spear, momentarily blinded by the sudden burst of brightness that flooded the courtyard.
A figure stepped into the space between the house and the barn. The raindrops around them shimmered with the unmistakable aura of Chaos magic, tinged with emerald and amethyst hues.
One of Noctis’s acolytes, his fervent servants during the war, clad in the deep black of their order. The Aurean script embroidered on the hem of his sweeping robes emitted an otherworldly glow, the intricate pattern mirroring the complex tattoos on his pale, shaved head.
The ten most powerful of Noctis’s priests were known as the Chiasma, five female and five male, a mocking echo of the Aurea themselves.
The narrow, fine-boned face with thin lips belonged to one of the Elves among them, though I couldn’t recall his name.
Unfazed by my presence, he twisted his mouth into a toothy smile, his kohl-lined eyes staring directly at me.
“What are you doing on my property?” My tone was imperious, my gaze focused on his hands, which he kept suspiciously hidden under his robes. “Uninvited.”
A sinister laugh escaped him. “I have watched you, Baradaz, Goddess of Light. I have watched you for quite some time.” He licked his lips. “Goddess no longer, I think. Unless you find enjoyment in feeding chickens and shoveling dung for some divine reason I cannot discern.”
I discreetly reached into my pocket with my left hand, while my right stayed firmly wrapped around my spear. “I ask you one more time, servant of Chaos,” I said, clearly enunciating every word. “What are you doing on my land?”
“We should have known he would run to you after we realized he was still alive.”
A glimmer of color in his eyes warned me he was gathering more power. The hairs on my nape stood up as threads of Chaos danced in the air between us. I resisted the instinct to retreat into the barn, knowing it would offer no protection against his magic.
“The fool could never stay away from your bed for long,” the acolyte added, contempt dripping from his voice. Well, that settled whether he still felt any lingering loyalty toward Noctis. “Regardless of how many times you have betrayed him.”
“Some would say he betrayed me,” I replied softly, my hand closing around the Fire stone in my pocket.
“He offered you immeasurable power. But you were too weak to take it,” the Chiasma spat, stepping closer.
The first probing tendrils of his magic brushed over my skin, leaving an oily sensation so intense I had to suppress a shudder.
He was trying to gauge my strength. Good—so he wasn’t entirely sure I was defenseless.
“Immeasurable power at the price of my soul.” I was careful not to tap into my Fire stone yet, offering him nothing.
Let him think I had no magic at my disposal.
When the time to strike came, I would strike true.
“Not a trade that ever tempted me.” My lips lifted into a cold smile.
“Unlike you, I value my sanity a little too much to sacrifice it for greed.”
Chaos churned in his eyes. “Your loss.”
With Elvish grace in his steps, he moved closer so quickly that I was barely able to raise my spear in time, its sharp iron tip pointed at his pale throat. The Chiasma paused, but showed no visible concern at the sight of my weapon.
“Where is he?” He tilted his head toward the house. “Inside?” When I didn’t answer, he laughed. “Tharion got to him, didn’t he? The Master killed him, but not before Tharion injured him in turn.”
So, it hadn’t been the Elf who had attacked Noctis previously. Fuck! How many of them were after him?
“Do you really believe I would ever surrender him to you?” Despite my fierce declaration, my unease deepened. He was far too self-assured for someone taking on two former gods all on his own.
“What a touching tale.” The Chiasma turned abruptly, shrugging as if my presence was irrelevant, a mocking lilt in his voice. “The Lady of Light protecting the Fallen One with her life.”
I reached for the power of the stone in my hand not a moment too soon, as a wave of Chaos sliced through the air. Fire flamed up in a half-circle in front of me as I hastily erected a shield. When my vision cleared, the courtyard was empty; the Chiasma had vanished.
I stepped forward, my spear held high, the red outline of my fire shield shimmering in the air.
The rain hit it with a hissing sound. The next attack came as unexpectedly as the first, tearing into my magic with unrelenting force.
A curse fell from my lips, my lyr -stone pulsing in my hand as I channeled more power through it.
A mere mortal shouldn’t command so much magic, even if he was of Elvish descent and had given himself over to Chaos.
Unless…
A wave of pure Chaos tore through my shield, throwing me backward before I could react. My spear and Fire stone were ripped from my grasp as I hit the wooden wall of the barn with bone-rattling force. Searing pain shot through my right wrist as it bent awkwardly upon impact. A cry escaped my lips.
“Too sad that this tale is going to end in tragedy,” a sibilant voice echoed from the shadows, drawing closer.
Nausea rose inside me as I tried to stand. Black robes entered my line of sight. I gasped in panic.
The Chiasma loomed before me, his Chaos magic pinning me against the wall. In his hand, a dagger made of black iron glowed with an eerie light. The lyr -stone embedded in its hilt flickered in vibrant shades of green and lilac, the lights reflecting endlessly in the rain.
So that explained his immense power. How ironic that one of the very artifacts Noctis had bestowed upon his followers during the war would ultimately be my undoing.
I met the pitiless, fanatical eyes of the acolyte. I would not beg for mercy. His thin lips twisted into a triumphant smile as he raised the dagger over his head with both hands.
“Vultaron!”
The sharp voice cut through the courtyard like a whip, making the Chiasma freeze.
“I thought you were smarter than to even consider touching her.” Noctis stood in the doorway of the house, tall and unyielding, still dressed in the simple black shirt and breeches he had worn to bed, his face full of terrible wrath.
“My lord.” Vultaron recoiled and turned to face him. His voice lacked any deference, despite the respectful greeting. “Returned from the dead, I see.”
“Indeed.”
Noctis stepped into the courtyard, a frosty smile concealing the immense effort it must have taken for him to come out here. He hadn’t even bothered to put on his boots. His bare feet sank into the muddy ground as he approached, his hair and clothes quickly drenched by the rain.
“You are fortunate,” he said, his gaze fixed on the acolyte. “I am feeling benevolent tonight. I might be persuaded to grant you forgiveness for your transgression.” A vicious snarl bared his teeth. “If you beg for it.”
Vultaron shifted the dagger in his hands. Thunder growled overhead, Chaos magic pulsing in the air. Noctis tensed in response.
“Becoming Human has not diminished your arrogance,” the Chiasma sneered at his former master. “What exactly makes you think I still serve you? That any of us do?”
Dark eyes met mine for an instant, revealing undisguised worry, before Noctis masked his expression. “You swore an oath to me,” he said to Vultaron, inching a few steps forward.
Only a little closer and he would be in striking range of that dagger. Urgency pounded through me as I used the wall behind me for leverage to rise to my feet, ignoring the black spots dancing through my vision.
“It seems we all must deal with disappointments. You promised us power beyond imagination.” Vultaron’s face twisted in open disgust. “Only to squander our certain victory because you couldn’t give up your little whore.”
He thrust the dagger in my direction, Chaos magic slamming me against the wall once more. Blinding agony shot through my injured wrist, another scream escaping me as I crumpled to the ground.
“Careful, Vultaron.” Noctis’s voice had dropped to a menacing growl. His hands clenched into fists.
“Or what?” The Chiasma cackled. “You’re going to punish me? I doubt it. You can hardly stand.”