Page 2

Brynna Helvig slumped in the chair at her sister's bedside, eyes burning from the exhaustion that weighed on her very bones.

Before her, Maude lay still as death— the only sign of life was the slow, even rise and fall of her chest. They had been in the fabled Kingdom of Shadows for two weeks now, and Maude had not moved an inch, stuck in this stasis between life and death.

She leaned forward and placed her elbows on her knees as she scrubbed the fatigue from her eyes, shaking herself awake and keeping her vigilant watch over Maude's sleeping form.

Bryn had not left her sister's side for more than a handful of moments to take care of her needs, only allowing Liv— her sister's friend and newly revealed Light Elven— to take over in her short absence.

Watching over her vulnerable form was the least Bryn could do for her sister after what she had done for her.

So if it meant she only rested when Liv forced her to, so be it.

A soft knock came at the dark mahogany door before Liv entered the room carrying a marble tray with an assortment of fruits, chunks of fresh baked bread, and coffee on it.

The Light Elven floated through the room, her movements graceful and lithe, as she placed the tray on a small table next to Bryn.

"Still no change?" Liv asked, gray eyes on the sleeping form in the plush bed.

"No change," Bryn replied, reaching for the steaming mug of coffee and taking a big drink.

The liquid burned its way down her throat, but she didn't care.

It shook the last remnants of sleep from her mind as she clung to it like it was her only lifeline left.

"She's been like this for too long. There must be something wrong, something we can't see. "

Liv shook her head as she leaned over Maude, her long fingers gently swiping across Maude's brow. She did not stir.

"Our healers have assessed her thoroughly and found nothing amiss," Liv offered, her focus landing on Bryn's worried face. "She needs to wake when she is ready."

The Elven stood silently and made her way to the door. The door had almost shut when Bryn finally asked what had slowly been forcing its way into her mind.

"How do you know she will wake? You said that this has never happened before."

Bryn's voice sounded small, even to her.

"She will wake because she has to," Liv said quietly before a small smile pulled at her flawless ebony skin. "She's too stubborn not to."

Bryn laughed, the sound short and startled, as a single tear fell onto her cheek. "Well, you're right about that."

"I'll be back later to sit with her; you need some sleep, too," Liv offered as she closed the door.

A tentative friendship had formed between them in the two weeks they had been at the Midnight Palace in Nida.

With Gunnar in the Healer's Wing and Hakon sequestering himself to the chambers the King of Shadow had chosen for him, Bryn saw very little of anyone else.

From what Liv had told her of their adventures leading up to that day in Logi, Gunnar had been struck down by belladonna poisoning and Hakon had lost someone he loved— a woman named Eydis.

Bryn recalled what Liv had said when she told her of this woman's passing.

He had been running from his fate, just like Maude, Liv had said, her gaze on the open windows overlooking the city of moonlight. When Eydis died, he changed. He shut himself in, refusing to deal with his grief. Everything happened so fast after that, and now he is missing his brother, too.

Herrick. The General of Rivers and the focus of Maude's affection. Now a prisoner in her father's dungeons with no foreseeable way to reach him.

Liv spoke at length about the brothers and Gunnar— how they worked to protect not only their kingdom, but all of Ahland.

The fondness in the Light Elven's voice couldn't be mistaken for anything other than deep respect and affection.

Eventually, their conversations turned to Bryn and her life in the Palace of Wind and Embers.

Bryn spoke about her duties as Lieutenant, what it was like living in Maude's shadow, the anger and grief Bryn had when Maude left, and how those feelings no longer tormented her.

But she never spoke of her raven. That agony was her punishment alone.

Every so often, whether it was during a short conversation or companionable silence, Bryn would look at Liv and see Revna for no other reason than the peace they each brought her.

Grief would quickly overwhelm her as memories of her lover— her friend— pelted her, followed by the memory of her hanging over the palace gates.

The blood that dripped onto her face, the death promise Bryn swore against her uncle for his hand in Revna's death.

Her throat would close up at the thought of her scattered bones on the dirt, the air quickly becoming thin.

So Bryn didn't speak of it— with Liv or anyone else. She suffered through each wave of depression that memories of her raven brought.

Her thoughts swirled around what Liv had said about Maude being too stubborn not to wake up, even though nothing like this could be found in Elven records.

Though it was known that Elven could fall into a similar stasis when they burned through too much galder , there was no precedent to fall back on in Maude's case of being reanimated.

Only unknown darkness lay ahead of them.

She needed Maude to wake up so she could light their path forward.

Bryn couldn't destroy King Helvig on her own; she needed her sister, even if she was only her half-sibling.

Bryn leaned back into the plush armchair she had dragged to Maude's bedside as she thought about how Maude was not truly a Helvig but half Elven.

The Heir of Shadows. Maude Vilulf.

Their mother had hidden so much from them.

Bryn's eyes lowered against her will, her previous exhaustion overwhelming her as she sank further into the chair that had become her bed.

A few hours later, Bryn woke suddenly to bright moonlight filtering through the carved arches of the large windows in the room.

While the sun did rise during the waking hours, it only shone in the sky for a few hours before they were all plunged into darkness once more, as was common this far north in Ahland.

Based on where the moon hung, it was about one in the morning.

Bryn quickly reoriented herself and pushed herself upright, scanning the room for Maude.

She found her in the same spot she had been lying in for two weeks, with no change in her status.

Standing over her sleeping form was the King of Shadows, his moonstone crown shining opaquely in the moonlight on top of his midnight hair.

"You should rest more, Brynna," the Shadow King said softly, his silver eyes never leaving his daughters. "You have sat at her side and kept a close watch. You need to rest if you are to face your sister when she wakes. She'll need you."

The King of Shadows was soft-spoken in a way that forced one to listen, his words heavy with meaning and intensity. Bryn could fall asleep to just the sound of his voice, its soothing rumble as calming as the darkest part of the night.

"I can handle it," Bryn finally replied when she shook herself from the stupor the Shadow King's voice put her in."I don't want to leave her."

"As you wish."

The silence stretched between them as the King took a seat at Maude's side, his eyes searching her slack face like he was looking for something.

"She has your nose," Bryn offered quietly, her words a lifeline thrown toward the male struggling with some internal crisis.

The Shadow King nodded almost imperceptibly, his movement strained as he continued staring at his daughter. Not wanting to disturb the moment further, Bryn sat silently, hoping to fade into the darkness if it meant the Shadow King could have a moment alone with his lost daughter.

Just as she was about to nod off in her exhaustion again, the Shadow King's melodic voice rumbled through the room again.

"I have something that belongs to you, Brynna," he whispered, voice catching. "Something that belongs to both of you. Sylvi's journals."

Bryn sat straight in her chair. "You have her journals? I hid them in Logi."

The Shadow King turned to face her, a twinkle of amusement in his upturned mouth. "Sylvi was an avid writer for most of her life. When she left for Logi all those years ago, she left her journals here for safekeeping. As her children, they belong to you and Maude."

At some invisible signal, the door opened behind them on a silent wind before shadows that writhed with muted elegance ushered in box after box of journals.

The King willed his shadows to set them down next to her chair before he absorbed the waves of shadow into his outstretched hands.

She watched, mesmerized, as one tendril broke off from the rest and curled around her ankle curiously before retreating again.

The King chuckled before he said, "The shadows of northern Ahland have a mind of their own most of the time."

Unable to form a coherent response, Bryn shakily chuckled before peering over her armchair to see the piles of black leatherbound journals that her mother seemed to favor. Her eyes widened at the sheer amount. Did her mother write down every single thought she ever had?

Turning back to face the King, Bryn found him looking over Maude again with a tenderness that she had only seen on their mother's face before.

Was this what it was to have a loving parent?

Bryn was so young when her mother died that she remembered very little of that tenderness.

Recalling that affection felt foreign— it was like the difference between feeling an emotion and having someone explain what it feels like to you.