Page 10 of Duskbound (Esprithean Trilogy #2)

CHAPTER NINE

I allowed myself time to adjust to the sensation of being airborne, trying to ignore my unwanted passenger. So far, I had just allowed the Vordr to guide our way, soaring above the clouds for what must have been half an hour at least. I didn’t exactly know what I was supposed to do—how I was supposed to steer him. There were no reins. I’d never even ridden a normal horse with no reins— on the ground .

"If you want him to turn, press with your leg on the opposite side of the direction you want to go," Aether's voice broke through. We had been riding in such silence that I almost forgot he was behind me.

I tested his advice, pressing my left leg against Tryggar's side, but the Vordr merely snorted, continuing his path straight ahead as if I hadn't done anything at all.

"He's not listening," I called back.

"Press harder. He needs to know you mean it."

I dug my heel in with more force, but Tryggar seemed to take that as a challenge, surging higher into the sky instead. The sudden acceleration had me clutching the saddle horn, my knuckles white. Aether’s grip on me tightened.

"Clearly, your teaching methods need work," I muttered through gritted teeth.

We crested just above the clouds, the mist cool against my skin, before Tryggar finally decided to break through them of his own accord. The landscape below came into view, and my sharp intake of breath had nothing to do with the altitude.

The world below unfurled like a nightmare made real. As we descended, my throat closed around a cry I couldn't quite swallow. This wasn't just destruction—this was obliteration.

Dried riverbeds carved through the earth like open wounds, and what must have once been forest stood as nothing more than a graveyard of twisted limbs reaching toward an eternally twilit sky. Each detail that came into focus felt like a physical blow. I thought the conditions in the city had been terrible, but nothing compared to the gray world below. This was death itself, stretching as far as I could see.

And we had caused this. My people. My realm. The Guard I had sworn my life to.

Bile rose in my throat as I remembered our training lessons, learning to fight the Wraiths, pride swelling in my chest as Laryk told me I was the answer—that I was what he’d been looking for to finally annihilate the foreign threat. He couldn’t have known about this, could he? He had made me feel like we were the righteous, fighting for our realm, fighting for our survival.

We hadn't been heroes. We had been executioners.

"It's all gone," I managed, the words tasting like ash. Behind me, Aether's silence felt heavy, accusatory.

“Yes, most of it.”

I turned my head slightly, trying to catch a glimpse of his expression. But his face was as inscrutable as ever, shadowed by his dark hair.

“The drought has spread, and with it, death. Entire villages abandoned. Crops failed. Water sources turned to dust.”

My stomach churned, a mixture of the altitude and the grim reality below. Seeing it made it all too real.

Tryggar’s wings shifted, and the creature let out a low, guttural sound, almost as if he, too, mourned the state of the land. The Vordr’s shadow stretched long over the ground, a fleeting specter passing over the remains of what once was.

My gaze fell to a cluster of ruins below. What might once have been a village square was now a tangle of collapsed roofs and shattered walls. I imagined the people who had lived there—children playing, traders haggling, elders sharing stories by the fire. Now, it was nothing but ghosts.

“Let’s land. There’s a clearing there just to the left.” Aether’s voice came from behind me.

“Land? How am I supposed to?—”

“How did you expect us to get back on the ground?” His words were slick with that annoying calmness he always managed to maintain. Made even worse by his grip on my waist. Given how tightly he was holding me, I might as well have been attached to him with iron chains.

“Well—” I started, nearly huffing to myself when I realized I hadn't thought that far ahead. I mean, I hadn’t thought I would be flying today at all.

“I figured Tryggar would eventually just take me back to the city and land on the lawn!” I shouted through the wind, my grip on the saddle tightening as we soared higher, the ground below a blur.

Aether’s voice brushed my ear. “Well, you managed to attract the most stubborn Vordr of the herd. If you’re waiting on him, you could end up across the realm.”

I gritted my teeth. “Don’t tempt me.”

Tryggar gave a loud snort and banked right. The wind whipped by as his wings beat powerfully, and my stomach lurched with the sudden shift.

“Careful. It’d be so unfortunate if you fell.”

I shot him a look over my shoulder. "How could I fall off? I’m practically glued to you."

I felt my panic rising, creeping up from my chest and tightening my throat. This was nothing like riding a horse. There were no reins. No straps to hold on to. I was at the mercy of a giant, stubborn beast.

“Tryggar!” I yelled, half panicked, half frustrated, trying to press my heels against his side, but the Vordr just kept flying as if it was his sole mission to get as high as possible, indifferent to my distress.

Aether’s voice broke through my mounting frustration. “You need to control him, not just yell at him.”

“I’m not yelling at him, I’m begging him!” I snapped back, the words coming out in a breathless hiss as Tryggar’s wings flared wide. We tilted dangerously, diving too steeply toward the ground. I could see the ruined village below, the broken rooftops and cracked stone, and my heart skipped a beat. He was flying straight towards it.

“Esprithe, Aether, we’re going to die!” I shouted, panic flooding my voice as the ground rushed up too fast.

“Are you screaming for the Esprithe or for me?” he asked simply, even as we fell in a jarring descent.

“What do I do ?” I shouted.

Aether’s voice stayed calm, his tone no longer amused but sharp, almost as if I were the one being unreasonable. “You need to slow him down. Press your heels, and tug back on the horn of the saddle—don’t just hang on like you’re about to fall off.”

“I’m trying! It’s like he doesn’t even feel it—” I half-screamed, clenching my fists as the ground was getting closer. Tryggar’s descent was too fast, too much .

“Press with your heels, Fia! He’s not just going to stop because you ask him to!”

I gritted my teeth, digging my heels harder against the Vordr just as Aether shifted, and slammed his legs against mine, shoving them hard into the beast. If we weren’t potentially falling to our doom, I would have killed him for the complete invasion of feeling him so—utterly—intensely against me. Heat ripped through me as his form tightened. His breath warmed my ear even as the wind whipped past us. Every part of me wanted to jab him in the ribs.

With one last final thrust from Aether—one that felt as if it could have shattered my legs—finally, Tryggar’s wings shifted, slowing our descent. It was sudden, but it was enough. Just as I was about to squirm away from him, Aether loosened his grip and slid back in the saddle. We were still touching, but his body wasn’t surrounding mine anymore.

I exhaled sharply, but I could still feel my heart pounding in my chest as the ground loomed closer. I forced myself to pull against the horn, trying to keep my hands steady as the wind pushed against us.

The ground was just ahead now. I could make out the dilapidated structures—splintered wood and broken stone. Tryggar tilted his wings slightly, not a moment too soon, and we landed with a jarring thud on the cracked earth below.

Tryggar snorted, stretching his neck as he pawed at the dirt, completely unfazed.

I, on the other hand, felt like I might collapse right there in the saddle. My hands were still gripping the saddle like my life depended on it, my chest heaving with the aftershock.

I swung off Tryggar with shaky legs, barely managing to keep my balance. I nearly stumbled after hitting the ground from such a height, my boots sending puffs of ash into the air.

Aether didn’t even acknowledge my near meltdown. “Well, we survived. ”

I shot him a look over my shoulder, heart still racing. “No thanks to you.”

I hunched over, hands perched on my knees, and caught my breath.

“You’re a miserable instructor,” I shot in Aether’s direction, “and Tryggar, we’re going to need to have a talk back at the stables.”

The Vordr simply pranced off, throwing up dust in his wake as he approached some twisted, skeletal trees. “He’s not going to leave us out here, right?” I asked.

“He’ll stay close.” Aether’s voice had taken on a different tone. He was looking just past me, something like regret spreading across those sharp features, his dark hair sweeping off his forehead in the breeze. I stood and turned, only to find he was staring at what must have been a garden at some point, a long time ago.

The soil was cracked and dry, a gray-brown that barely resembled earth anymore. No weeds, no grass, not even the faintest hint of life could be seen. Where plants had once stood, there were only twisted, brittle remains—stalks and stems snapped or shriveled to nothing. Rusted trellises sagged at odd angles, their frames tangled with remnants of vines that had long since withered away. Rows that had once been filled with vegetables were now just empty furrows, the soil so barren it seemed hollow. No insects, no birds, no sign of anything thriving.

A quiet stillness rushed across the landscape as I took it in.

“Where are we?” I asked.

“This was the village of Croyg,” he said, moving past me and into the garden, twigs snapping beneath his boots. “It was the biggest supplier of produce in the realm.”

“When did it fall?”

“Two years ago.” His words sent a shock through me.

“It looks as if it's been abandoned for decades,” I whispered, taking in the complete devastation. How could it have gotten like this so quickly?

“We evacuated it, taking residents back to Ravenfell. Many refused, not wanting to leave their belongings—their land, behind. All who stayed either eventually sought refuge in Draxon or died here in these houses.” Aether turned, but he didn’t look at me. Instead, he focused his attention on the dirt. “Lael was one of the children we brought back to the city. Both his parents had already passed. Poisoned by the very vegetables they grew, like the land had corrupted them.”

I stood there, not knowing what to say. Not even knowing how to feel.

“The last time I was here was the day the sky stood still. First the sun, and then the moon. Night and day became one in the same. The seasons all blurred into each other. We’re stuck—stuck reliving the same day over and over while the realm dies.”

"You’re fighting for this?" The bitterness in my voice surprised even me, but I couldn't stop the words. "For a land that's already dead?"

Even as I said it, shame burned through me. How dare I question the worth of saving this place? I thought of the children in Ravenfell, kicking their worn ball in the streets. Of the woman begging for a medic. Of Lael, orphaned by the very earth that should have sustained his family.

This wasn't just about a dying land. It was about people—people who had done nothing to deserve this slow death. People who still found ways to live, to hope, even as their world crumbled around them.

But helping them meant turning against everything and everyone I had ever known. It meant accepting that Sídhe's prosperity—the peace I had fought so hard to protect—was built on this devastation. That my service in the Guard had contributed to this .

"Would you abandon them?" Aether's question cut through my thoughts like a blade.

"No," I whispered, and the word felt like both a truth and a betrayal. How could I turn my back on such suffering? But how could I fight against my own people?

The weight of the choice pressed against my chest until I could barely breathe. If I helped Umbrathia, I would be betraying Sídhe. If I refused, I would be condemning these people to a slow, brutal end. There was no right answer—no path that didn't end in betrayal of someone or something.

“And you’re certain that I am the answer to all of this?” It seemed unbelievable.

“I’ve never been more sure in my whole life.”

"I'll do it," I said finally, my voice stronger than I felt. "I'll meet the Void." The words tasted like surrender and defiance all at once. I felt him hum in contemplation.

“We’ll take you to see Urkin tomorrow. First thing,” he finally said.

“Should I be scared?”

Aether didn’t answer.

After a few moments, Tryggar pranced back up to us, a husk of dried bark hanging from his jaw, and we re-mounted, Aether helping lift me onto the Vordr’s back. I was too drained to flinch as he slid into the saddle behind me.

We flew on in silence after that, the wasteland stretching out beneath us. I forced myself to keep looking, to absorb the full weight of what we were up against. I’d grown up hearing tales of glorious victories and noble sacrifices. But there was no glory here. Only ashes and shadows.

Tryggar let out another low sound, his wings tilting as they began to climb again, heading toward the horizon. I adjusted my grip, leaning into the movement, and for the first time since we’d taken flight, I felt a flicker of determination. The land below might be a graveyard, but perhaps it could be something again, one day.

“What’s beyond this?” I asked, breaking the silence.

Aether’s voice came quietly, almost as if he were speaking to himself.

“Whatever’s left.”