Page 73 of Darkness Births the Stars #1
Thank the stars, she was back to teasing me. Raising my cup, I toasted to her. “In my opinion, your abysmal taste in one questionable man in particular has always been your most endearing quality, saeraery .”
Her laugh warmed me more than any tea ever could.
After a moment, Rada turned somber again. “I am sorry, you know,” she said. At my questioning look, she elaborated. “For leaving it to you to take care of Itzi. I was not able to… But still, I should not have assumed…”
That it would be no additional burden for someone who already carried the deaths of thousands on his shoulders? Maybe not. That she cared about my feelings at all was a vivid reminder of why she had my heart in her deceptively tender grip.
“Better me than you,” I ground out, my voice raspy.
If I could spare her any additional pain, I would gladly condemn my battered soul a hundred times more.
“It’s not the first time I’ve faced such a choice,” I added.
“When the Allfather ordered me to destroy my dragons after my first attempt to create them…” I trailed off, unsure if I wanted her to know more.
“You never talked about that time,” Rada said, an audible edge in her voice. I could not blame her. My contempt for the Allfather had always stood between us, even more than my envy of Aramaz.
“It was a nightmare,” I confessed, staring into the fire, unable to meet her eyes.
“They knew me only as their maker. Trusted me completely. I thought if I could keep them calm and use my magic to make it as painless as possible…” I paused, taking a deep breath and another sip of tea.
“The sound of snapping necks is unforgettable. And that look—that haunting moment of profound disbelief when they realized it was me causing their pain.”
I glanced at Rada, but she remained silent, watching me with her warm silver eyes.
“Father always said we had to pay for our own mistakes. I guess he thought forcing me to do it myself would prevent me from ever trying again.” A cold, merciless decision.
For the longest time, I hadn’t understood how much so.
“It only made me hate him more and strengthened my resolve to never yield, even if it was solely out of spite.”
A mix of horror and compassion swept across Rada’s face. The horror I understood; the compassion I feared I did not deserve.
“There was nothing you could have done,” she said gently, instinctively understanding that my helplessness haunted me the most. “Not after the Allfather made up his mind.”
“But that’s not quite true, is it?” I leaned forward in agitation, the mug in my hands forgotten.
“If I hadn’t rebelled, this situation wouldn’t have happened.
And even then, instead of being obstinate, I should have pleaded for his forgiveness.
Convinced him to show mercy.” I took her in, my fierce, courageous queen.
“ You would have done so. You would have found a way to save them.” It wasn’t flattery; I truly believed it.
“I’m not half as good a person as you make me out to be,” Rada said, her voice trembling, all-too-familiar shadows darkening her gaze.
“You’re a much better person than I am,” I said. “Though that’s not hard to accomplish.”
A soft sigh escaped her. “Belekoroz…”
My heart missed a beat at the sound of my true name on her lips.
It had been decades—endless, miserable, lonely decades—since I had last heard it spoken aloud by her.
No one said it quite like her. Not that many people ever used it to begin with.
She drew out the first syllable as if she wanted to hold on to it, as if it were something precious that was only hers.
“Your dragons… What the Allfather did was unjust.”
I observed her closely, noting the tension in her face. It was the first time I had heard her speak out against our creator.
She inhaled deeply, her voice barely a whisper. “It was cruel.”
The acknowledgment, even if one could have argued it came centuries too late, eased some of the old, festering pain inside me. The Allfather’s actions had been cruel. I was not always to blame for everything.
Coincidentally, it was also the only time Aramaz had taken my side. His support had surprised me so much that I’d let him convince me to leave my self-imposed exile in the north and accompany him to Lyrheim, changing all our fates forever.
“I know how much your dragons meant to you,” Rada said, still watching me. “When you created them anew.”
Only for them to be destroyed once more. A sad smile lifted my lips. “They meant a lot to you, too. ”
Rada’s gaze dropped to her drink. “They were so clever,” she murmured. “Maybe even more so than some mortals.”
I sat up, suddenly alert. There was something strange in her tone.
She continued to avoid my gaze, idly tracing the rim of her cup. “If someone had told them to hide,” she said slowly, “I believe they would have.”
Could she possibly mean…? Hope awakened within me, almost painfully intense. “I’m certain they would have,” I replied, striving to keep my voice steady. “Sharith has always been a place of endless underground tunnels and impenetrable shadows.”
Her lips curled slightly. “The Council never unearthed all its secrets.”
She had saved my dragons. Somehow, my fierce little queen had achieved the impossible and saved my dragons. Although she might not wish to reveal it directly, perhaps not trusting me entirely yet, it was clear she had outwitted the Council.
The temptation to ask her, to find out more, was close to overwhelming. But I chose not to press her for answers. Not tonight.
We were both silent then, exhaustion and heartache stealing our words. It wasn’t an awkward silence; rather, we found comfort in each other’s presence, in the soothing atmosphere of sharing a cup of tea in front of a warm fire.
When Rada finally fell asleep, still curled up under her blanket, I caught her mug before it could tumble from her hands. I lay down on my pallet beside her and watched her face until the fire burned down to embers, guarding her sleep.