Page 63 of Darkness Births the Stars #1

Ah, yes, of course, the steadfast friend.

My last encounter with the Harvest Goddess remained as vivid in my memory as the slap she had delivered to my face, her green eyes blazing with fury.

I was sure more would have followed if M’tar had not dragged her off.

She had cursed my name for what I had done to Baradaz.

Her angry shouts had reverberated through the great hall of the Temple of Order where I had been imprisoned .

“I’ve kept in contact with her since I left Lyrheim,” Rada said. “She updates me on the events within the Council and the wider world. However, she is unaware of my exact location. She only knows that I live on a farm.”

No subterfuge. Only cold, hard facts. Regardless, I pressed on.

“Did you tell her I’m still alive? And here with you?”

Nacin snorted, displeased with my tone. Rada extended a hand to soothe him. “No. I am not entirely foolish. It’s bad enough that I rescued you.”

Lyr , I was acting like a complete ass, wasn’t I?

The guilt returned, more intense than before, as I realized that I could hardly fault her for her lack of trust in me, given the circumstances.

Why had I been so incensed just moments ago?

Gazing at the wistful look on her beautiful face, I found myself unable to recall.

“I told you how thankful I am for that, didn’t I?” I said, my voice hoarse.

Her smile was slight, a quirk of her lip. “Any more questions?”

The opening was too tempting to ignore. “Why did you come here, Baradaz? Why this place, in the middle of nowhere?”

“Because I was searching for peace. And for oblivion.”

Yet I had stolen both from her once again. The melancholy on her face was so profound, I regretted my question.

Before I could come up with any answer that would not have felt inadequate, Rada motioned at the dagger once more. “Will the Chiasma be able to find you through this?”

“Likely. The daggers contain my magic, but they are also conduits allowing their users to channel the Chaos magic surrounding us. I crafted them, but after wielding them for decades, the Chiasma all became bound to their magic. They might detect it when a significant amount of that magic is released. ”

Rada nodded, determination settling in her gaze. “That was my concern. We must place it back in the chest. The unhallowed lyr -stones should at least thwart any tracking spells.” She made an imperious gesture at me, her tone sharpening. “The dagger. Now.”

My hand twitched in response to the command, but I couldn’t reach for the dagger. A dark, possessive force coiled within me at the thought of relinquishing even a sliver of power.

Rada’s face hardened at my inaction, and I wondered if she would force the issue.

But then her gaze softened, and she moved closer, her body brushing against mine.

Close enough that I could smell the fragrance of snowdrops and starlight that seemed to always linger on her hair. It clouded my senses.

“You are drunk on the magic, Noctis. You’ve clung to it since my arrival,” she whispered, closing the gap between us, her tone gentle.

Her remark caught me off guard; I hadn’t even realized it myself.

“You must release it,” she insisted, her hand resting gently on my shoulder.

The crown of her head was so close to me now, I could have buried my face in her sweet-smelling hair with the slightest movement. “It’s only an illusion, a shadow.”

How did she always see? Every single weakness I tried to keep hidden from the world, laid bare under her keen silver gaze. It pierced through my every pretense with an ease that stole my breath.

Yet no revulsion marred her striking face. As she looked up at me, her touch slowly trailing down my arm, there was only compassion. An understanding that went deeper than any words ever could. For once, it didn’t provoke me to lash out.

“Believe me, I know,” she said, her hand reaching for mine, which was tightly clutching the dagger’s hilt. “Let go.”

The deep, trembling breath I took filled my nose with more of her scent. Perhaps I could drown myself in it. In her .

It gave me the courage to confess. “I am not certain I can.”

“Focus solely on me. Everything is alright.”

The silver remained steady, her gentle fingers tracing aimless designs on my skin, our breaths in sync. My eyes closed. When she slipped the dagger out of my hand, I hardly felt it. I lingered until her footsteps faded into the distance before venturing outside to follow her.

The sun was setting as I leaned on the fence by the barn, my eyes on the Western Hills. Rada was silent when she returned to my side, not touching me but close enough that I could sense her warmth.

“I will never be free of it, will I?” I said, without turning.

“Do you wish to be? You once said that Chaos is a part of you.”

My laughter held a bitter edge. “You mean the terrible, monstrous part of me.”

Undeterred, she continued, “You taught me that beauty can be found in Chaos. It might be different from the beauty of Order, but it is beauty all the same. I have not forgotten.”

I had sworn to win her back, to make her mine again, my fierce, beautiful queen.

Yet as the sun’s last rays gifted her their golden kiss, her hair and eyes ablaze, her face filled with a gentleness I had not dared to dream of witnessing again…

In that moment, I struggled with the mad impulse to warn her.

To tell her to keep her distance, to erase me from her memory once and for all, because we both knew I would only disappoint her again.

But I was a selfish bastard, so I stayed silent. I needed her too much, even if it was only this fleeting touch of her radiant light upon me.

She said I had revealed beauty within Chaos to her. But was there also beauty to be found in ashes?

“Did you mean it?” she asked softly, her eyes never leaving my face. “When you said you would try to find a better way to deal with the powers of Chaos?”

The expression on her face, the hope I could see burning within her, was too much. I turned toward the hills once more, the peaceful landscape offering no solace.

“If you want me to leave, I will.” The offer burst from my lips before I could stop it.

She did not answer for a very long time. My heart beat hard and fast in my chest as I waited for her response, unsure what I wanted it to be. Then her hand brushed against mine, the touch so faint it could have been nothing more than my imagination.

“I don’t want you to leave,” she murmured.

When I gathered enough courage to look at her once more, her silver eyes were bright with unshed tears. Yet she gave me a smile, as fragile as it was beautiful.

“Come inside,” she said. “Dolores sent you some cake.”