Page 84 of Darkness Births the Stars #1

For a few hectic moments, I thought I had just overlooked Tilda among the other chickens.

No luck. Violent anger coursed through me as I found only fresh claw marks at the back of the henhouse.

This time, our nightly visitor hadn’t even left a few feathers to mark his crime. I stormed outside, Bane at my heels .

The fact that Noctis was in the house and had prepared dinner for us would probably have appeased me under different circumstances. Now, I did not even take the time to answer his surprised outcry, hurrying into my bedroom to fetch my bow and swing a quiver of arrows over my shoulder.

He was waiting for me when I returned to the main room, his expression tense as he barred my way.

“What do you think you are doing?” he asked, catching sight of the weapon in my hand.

“The cursed beast has done it again,” I growled. “I need to take care of this fox problem. Permanently.”

He stared at me as if he could not believe the words spilling from my mouth.

“You want to spend the night outside,” he said, enunciating every word as if they would make more sense that way.

“With one of the deadliest of the Chiasma, a horde of Rakash, and who knows what else lurking around, you want to spend the night outside to hunt a fox.”

“I have no choice,” I snarled. “Or all my chickens will die.”

Noctis closed his eyes and murmured something to himself. With a deep breath, he focused his intense gaze on me again and reached for the weapon in my hands. “Give me that bow.”

I tried to move around him. “No.”

The bastard just picked me up as if I weighed nothing and set me down in front of him again.

The fire burning in his eyes as he leaned closer, not letting go of my arms, was so fierce it rivaled the dark flame that had blazed within them when he was still a god.

“Give me that bow, Rada,” he growled. “We both know you are a terrible shot.”

“I am passable,” I retorted, fighting in vain against his unrelenting grip.

Noctis laughed in my face. “If that beast is not as big as a barn door, you won’t hit it in the dark.” With a sharp twist, he stole my bow from my hands. I opened my mouth to curse him, only to suddenly realize he was moving toward the front door and not the bedroom as I had anticipated.

“You’re coming with me?” I asked, following him outside.

He stopped abruptly in front of the house. “Can I make you see reason somehow and you will return to the house with me?” When I didn’t answer, he sighed and continued walking. “I didn’t think so.”

“So where should we be on the lookout?” I asked, attempting to dissolve the tension between us. Despite the sun having long since set, the air remained balmy as we made our way across the courtyard.

“There’s a rise in the field behind the henhouse,” Noctis answered, his stony expression betraying no sign that he accepted my pitiful attempt at a truce. “Though I doubt it’s comfortable.”

The infuriating man didn’t slow his pace for my shorter stride, forcing me to run after him. Silence fell as we settled on the spot he had indicated. Noctis took an arrow from me and positioned it on the rise, the henhouse in perfect view. The full moon cast a soft glow over the grass.

When the silence between us stretched unbearably, I finally broke.

“Are you honestly angry at me for wanting you to help protect the people I care about?” I snapped.

“I’m not angry,” Noctis replied, his eyes fixed on the grassy field before us as if something unendingly exciting was unfolding there. “You saved my life. You give me room and board. That’s a lot more than I should expect from someone who condemned me to death ten years ago.”

He still thought I had cast the vote that sealed his fate. Suddenly, I couldn’t let that misconception stand any longer.

“I didn’t vote for your death,” I confessed .

He glanced at me, his face a tapestry of secrets woven by shadows and moonlight. “Don’t lie to me, Baradaz,” he commanded. “I recall quite well my brother’s words as I lay prostrate in the Temple of Order, waiting for my sentencing. The vote of the Ten was unanimous.”

“It was,” I answered honestly. “But I asked to be exempt from the vote.”

A surprised intake of breath, followed by a long, heavy silence. “I see,” Noctis finally said, his voice softer. Then a bitter chuckle escaped him. “Sha’am must have been livid.”

“Yes, he voiced his objections quite loudly. That was the closest he ever got to openly accusing me before the Council.”

Noctis snorted. “That idiot is a menace. You should have destroyed him ages ago.”

“Some of us can’t kill everyone who tries our patience. Some of us have duties and responsibilities. Some of us—”

Noctis’s touch on my arm stopped my tirade. “Quiet now,” he whispered. “Something’s in the bushes.”

My heartbeat quickened. Suddenly, I questioned whether this had been a wise idea.

Moments later, a small furry head poked out from the greenery lining the brook at the edge of my lands.

The fox leaped over the grass, its nimble paws carrying it swiftly to the henhouse.

I had to admit, the little predator looked quite adorable: soft red fur, big pointy ears, and a gleaming white tip on its fluffy tail.

How, by the Maker, did it manage to cross the thorny barrier around the henhouse? The sharp thorns glinted in the moonlight, visible even from our perch. But soon, I saw how. The animal nosed a large branch against the fence, pressing down the thorns to create a gap.

“Clever little beast,” Noctis laughed .

I was tempted to join him, but as the fox began digging into the soft earth, my fear for my chickens won out.

“It’s going to take another chicken,” I exclaimed. “Do something!”

Beside me, Noctis stiffened, his bow aimed at the fox.

A deep intake of breath, and then an arrow flew toward the small predator—only to miss it by a few inches, scattering off into the dark.

The fox cried out in alarm and scrambled through the fence, vanishing into the underbrush, its white-tipped tail swishing one last time as if to taunt us.

“You let it get away,” I said in disbelief. Noctis was a skilled archer; he hadn’t missed by accident.

“Do you really want to kill a living being just for being clever? For daring more than the others of its kind? For following its nature?” He had let himself fall on his back, the bow forgotten in the grass beside him, his gaze fixed on the night sky.

His voice was hoarse, exposing all his vulnerability.

Despite everything, I could only respond in one way: “No.”

The word was soft, barely audible against the gentle night surrounding us, the chirping crickets, the whisper of the trees in the light breeze.

“No,” Noctis echoed, without satisfaction, as if he had anticipated my response.

I lay down beside him, eyes on the sky. “Nearly being shot may keep him away for a while.”

“Maybe. But I doubt the little beast will be dissuaded that easily.”

“So… are you going to help me reinforce the fence before we leave tomorrow?” I asked, sensing another shift between us.

Noctis chuckled. “Of course.”

After today’s events, with all the dangers around us, I should have been on edge.

Yet somehow, I felt at peace with him by my side under the star-filled sky.

Maybe it was time to lower my guard; maybe I was only torturing myself if I tried to stay strong.

I was so tired of being strong all the time.

“It’s funny, isn’t it? Despite the years that have passed since I created them, the stars remain ever the same,” I mused.

“Shining down upon us.” Noctis’s voice carried a wistful ache. “Untouched by it all.”

“Some days I can’t even remember how it felt to command so much power. How I felt. It could have been an entirely different existence.”

“As if our past is nothing but the ancient tales of long-forgotten deities?” Noctis murmured. “And we, two simple mortals, stare up at the heavens, wondering what fate has in store for us?”

His longing stirred up all the hidden wishes inside my own heart.

“How were you stripped of your powers, Baradaz?”

Noctis’s gentle tone did not fool me. There was a purpose behind his question, asked in the still darkness of the night, where sharing my secrets with him felt so temptingly easy.

His next words made me freeze. “It took all of the Ten, including you, to take my magic. I wonder how my brother managed the same with you. You are among the most powerful of us.”

He suspected something. He was clever, and there were far too many holes in my story.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I said, hoping to dissuade him.

“Did he do it?” Noctis’s demeanor shifted dramatically, disbelief and horror evident in his voice. A soft rustle told me he was looking at me. “Did the Allfather punish you?”

“No,” I replied curtly, my gaze still fixed on the stars.

Why did conversations with him always veer into uncomfortable topics, forcing me to confront truths I wanted to forget?

“You’ve had more interactions with him than I have.

After sending me to Aron-Lyr, he never spoke to me.

The last time I sensed his presence was… ”

“When you married Aramaz,” Noctis finished for me when I trailed off.

“Yes.” I breathed in deeply, unable to hide the old anguish. “I suppose he’s too disappointed in me to bless me with his presence.”

“That’s something we have in common, then,” Noctis said, his words oddly comforting.

“Why did you come here?” he asked after a quiet moment, changing the topic as I had requested.

His new question wasn’t any simpler to answer, though.

“You had allies in Lyrheim. You could have led a more comfortable life there, or in any of the larger cities.”

I did not have you. No matter where I went. The thought came unbidden, but I couldn’t deny it. The one devastating truth at the heart of everything.

“Who says I’m not content here?”