Page 58 of Duskbound (Esprithean Trilogy #2)

CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

Five days had passed since our return from Sídhe. After the adrenaline wore off, the pain from Narissa's acid burns had set in with a vengeance. The first few attempts at cleaning the wounds left me gritting my teeth, fighting back screams that threatened to wake the entire medical wing. I'd turned down the healing potions—we needed to save those for more dire situations. The medics had offered to use their tethers, but I refused that too. Their powers were already stretched thin enough.

Now I sat in one of the infirmary beds, watching Lael's peaceful face as he slept. The medics had done remarkable work with his burns. Though evidence of the injury remained, the angry red had faded to pink, new skin already forming at the edges. He looked so young in sleep—a sight that still unsettled me. Despite all of his training, despite all of his dedication to the realm, he was still just a boy caught in the midst of forces beyond his control.

Aether occupied the chair between our beds, his golden eyes distant as he stared at nothing in particular. The creases around his eyes had deepened over the past few days, though he refused to admit he needed rest .

"What's on your mind?" I asked softly.

Aether's gaze shifted to me. "I've been thinking about your conversation with Laryk." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "You mentioned something about his tether—focus, whatever you call it. How it doesn't work on you."

I nodded slowly. "It doesn't."

"Are you sure?"

The question caught me off guard. "Yes, I'm sure. Why?"

He was quiet for a moment, that familiar crease forming between his brows. "I just wonder if it's a strategy."

"What do you mean?"

He looked towards the window, running a hand through his onyx hair and letting out a slow breath. "Perhaps," he finally said, "you're easier to manipulate if you think you can't be manipulated by him."

Irritation heated my face. "I don't…" I countered, shaking my head. "He protected us when he could have had us surrounded in seconds?—"

"I know." Aether's voice was gentle, but something lurked beneath it. "It just seemed odd how quickly you decided to trust him in the end."

No. It couldn’t be. I trusted Laryk because I chose to do so. I’d loved him because–

Movement from Lael's bed caught my attention before the thought could finish. His fingers twitched against the sheets as his eyes fluttered open. Aether was on his feet instantly, and I couldn't help but notice how the hardness in his expression melted away as he approached the bed.

Lael blinked several times, confusion clouding his features before recognition dawned. When his eyes found Aether, a goofy smile spread across his face.

"Did I miss training?" His voice was scratchy from disuse. "Everything feels... fuzzy. "

That rare dimple appeared as Aether smiled. "You've been asleep for over a week."

"A week?" Lael tried to sit up, wincing slightly. "But the last thing I remember..." His brow furrowed as he struggled with the memory. "There was fire everywhere..."

"Don't push yourself," Aether said, helping adjust his pillows. "You're safe now."

Lael's eyes widened when he noticed me. "Fia? What are you doing here?" He glanced between us, questions evident on his face.

"Just keeping an eye on you," I said softly. "Ma's healing potions seem to be working well."

"Ma?"

"A friend from Sídhe. She created these." I gestured to the bottles beside his bed. "They've been helping with your recovery."

"Sídhe?" His eyes went wide. "But how?—"

"It's a long story," I said, sharing a look with Aether. "There are good people everywhere, Lael. Sometimes in places we least expect."

He absorbed this, his young face thoughtful. "Is that where you two went? To Sídhe?"

"Among other places," Aether said carefully.

"So did it work?" Lael pressed, his enthusiasm breaking through his exhaustion. "What you guys did? Did it change anything?"

Aether looked down at him, finally letting that full smile show. "Why don't we go find out? First thing tomorrow. After you can get some strength back."

The gates of Ravenfell groaned as we passed through them, Lael leaning slightly on Aether for support. I could have sworn a slight breeze whispered across my face as the dead field came into view.

"If you're going to mother me the whole way there," Lael grumbled as Effie fussed with his collar, "I'm turning around. "

"You can barely walk," Effie retorted.

"Can someone just tell me where we're going?" He shot a pointed look at Vexa, who was spinning one of her daggers through her fingers.

"Patience, little necromancer." Vexa smirked. "Keep complaining and I'll make you walk faster."

"Shall I find a dead wolf again?" Lael asked, but his lips twitched into a smile.

"Awfully sharp since waking, Lael." Rethlyn laughed, shaking his head. "You've been spending too much time with this lot."

"I do prefer the company of the dead sometimes," Lael countered. "At this point, they probably have more energy than I do."

"At least the dead know when to be quiet." Raven shrugged, and we all laughed.

The arcanite formation emerged from the gray earth ahead, essence burning bright within its crystalline structure. Though its glow had dimmed since I'd imbued it in Riftdremar, the power still pulsed steadily.

Lael’s eyes went wide. "What is that?"

"Arcanite," Aether said.

"No way."

He moved forward on his own now, drawn to the crystal's light. We all felt it—that pull, that desperation for evidence of some kind of change. But it was Lael who noticed first. He dropped to his knees so suddenly that Aether moved to catch him, but then we saw what had brought him down.

"Grass," he whispered, voice cracking on the word. His fingers hovered over the delicate green blades pushing through dead earth. "Real grass."

Vexa's dagger stopped spinning, falling silent in her grip as she knelt beside him. Among the green, spiny flowers bloomed—their crimson petals and delicate stamens reaching toward the endless gray sky .

"Spider-lilies," Rethlyn said quietly to Lael.

"They're exactly as I remember," he finally managed. "They grew near the creek beds in Croyg.” His eyes misted over. "I never thought I'd see them again."

I moved toward the crystal. As my hand met its surface, I allowed the essence to pool in my spine before directing the flow into the arcanite. The process hadn't left me light-headed before, but this time the drain hit me. Perhaps it was the weakness from my injuries taking over, or maybe I was just exhausted, but I swayed slightly. Immediately Aether was there, one hand steady on my waist while the other rested on my back, fingers intertwining with my white hair.

"Well, well," Vexa's voice cut through the silence, making us all turn. Her eyes were wide as she stared at Aether's grip on me. " This is new."

Aether didn't move away, if anything his hold tightened slightly.

"Seems like a lot changed on your little journey through the realms." Effie raised an eyebrow, looking between us with a knowing grin.

"I knew it." Raven smirked, gaze falling on me. "It was the glasses, wasn't it?"

I bit back a smile, but a laugh managed to escape my lips. I couldn't help it. I had entirely no idea what to say to any of them.

"You're telling me," Vexa stepped closer, her eyes locked on Aether's face, "that our brooding commander actually?—"

"Vexa," Aether warned, but that damned dimple appeared.

"No, no." She held up a hand. "Let me savor this moment."

Lael simply eyed us, a shy grin creeping across his face. When he noticed me looking, his attention turned back to the flowers.

The murmurs dissolved into silence as we all took in the sight—the first blooms of life this realm had seen in years.

"There has to be more out there," Vexa said, her eyes finding the horizon where the rip lay hidden in the distance. "More arcanite, buried in the ruins." The heaviness returned to her voice. "We just have to find it."

"And then what?" Lael asked, his young face serious again.

"Then start preparing," I said, leaning into Aether. His arm tightened slightly around my waist. "For whatever Draxon decides to unleash on us."

"Lael," Effie stepped forward, though her eyes kept darting between Aether and me with poorly concealed delight, "that's enough time out here. You're looking pale again."

"But—"

"Don't argue with her, it only makes it worse," Rethlyn sighed.

Aether reached out and ran a hand through Lael's messy hair. "You can come back tomorrow, if you're up for it."

"Promise?" the boy asked, a soft glint in his eye.

"Promise," I said softly.

We watched as the others headed back toward Ravenfell, their voices carrying on the breeze. Only Vexa remained behind.

"I've been waiting for the right moment," she said, reaching into her leather pack. "Though knowing you two, there probably won't be one." Her violet eyes sparkled as she pulled out a black cloth bundle.

With careful movements, Vexa unwrapped the fabric, revealing two daggers that made my breath catch. The memory of another ceremonial presentation flashed through my mind—standing before the Sídhe Guard as they bestowed their emerald-hilted dagger, a symbol of everything they wanted me to be. Everything I wasn't. But these—they were the most beautiful things I'd ever laid eyes on.

Their obsidian hilts were wrapped in dark leather, worn spots already pressed into the grip as if they'd been waiting for my hands. Intricate sigils had been carved into the pommels. And the blades were made of solid gold, just like Aether's sword. What drew my eye, though, were the small violet shards embedded just above the crossguards, glinting in the dim light.

"Vexa..." I breathed, recognizing the crystalline fragments. "Those are from?—"

"The arcanite? Yes." She held them out, keeping the black cloth between her skin and the weapons. "Each one's been marked with a bonding sigil. Once your flesh touches the hilts, they'll recognize you as their wielder." There was something in her voice I'd never heard before—a mixture of pride and nervousness, as if she wasn't sure how I'd receive this gift.

"What does that mean exactly?" I asked, unable to take my eyes off the blades. They seemed to pulse with their own life, so different from the cold, ceremonial weight of my Sídhe dagger.

"They'll always return to you in battle. You can throw them, lose them, have them knocked away—doesn't matter. They'll find their way back." Her smile widened. "They'll call to you too, like a whisper in the back of your mind. No one else will be able to use them against you. They're yours, completely and truly yours."

My throat tightened at her words. In Sídhe, everything had come with conditions, with expectations. But this...

"Vexa, this is too much?—"

"You've earned them," she cut me off, her tone brooking no argument. "Besides, I needed a challenge. Been too long since I've forged something worthy of a proper warrior."

Something I'd read in the archives suddenly clicked into place. "The arcanite stones..." I looked up at her. "A century ago, they used to forge weapons with them here. Warriors could somehow connect their tethers through the crystals."

"I wanted to test that theory." Vexa winked. "There's a reason I forged two daggers instead of a sword." Her eyes flickered to Aether. "He helped me find the old texts about crystalized weaponry. The techniques had been lost since the drought began."

I glanced at Aether, who stood watching us with quiet intensity, that familiar warmth in his golden eyes. Of course he'd been part of this. My chest tightened at the thought of them working together in secret, planning this gift.

"Well?" Vexa held the daggers out. "Let's see if it works."

With confident fingers, I took a blade in each hand. The moment my skin touched the hilts, I felt it—like two new heartbeats settling into rhythm with my own. The weapons seemed to sing against my palms, their weight perfect.

I called to my shadows, letting them curl around the blades. At the same time, I reached into the depths of my spine, pulling that familiar iridescent web.

The response was instant. Violent. Beautiful.

The right crystal exploded with light, flooding with pearlescent energy that matched my eyes. Pure starlight, captured in stone. The left crystal devoured all light around it, filling with writhing shadows that seemed to breathe.

Light and dark. Balance.

"By the Void," Vexa breathed. "Look at them, Aether."

"They're responding to both sides of her," he said softly, moving closer to examine the blades. "Incredible."

"Just like their wielder." Vexa's smile was fierce with pride, but I caught the glimmer of mist in her eyes. "No more borrowed weapons. These are yours, made for exactly who you are."

"Try throwing them," she added quickly, blinking away the emotion.

I hesitated only a moment before I turned, launching both daggers at a dead tree thirty paces away. They struck true, burying themselves deep in the trunk with a satisfying thud.

Then I felt it. A pull. Like invisible threads connecting us.

With a single thought, the daggers ripped free, spinning through the air like deadly stars before slamming home into my waiting hands. The sensation was electric—like finding limbs I never knew were missing .

Fucking. Incredible.

"Now that ," Vexa grinned, "was worth all those sleepless nights in the forge."

"I don't know how to thank you," I managed, my own vision blurring. I tried to remember the last time someone had given me something so meaningful. If I had ever been given something so meaningful.

"Just put them to good use." She clasped my shoulder, her grip tight with emotion. "And try not to get yourself killed before I can forge you a matching set of throwing knives." She paused, then pulled me into a fierce hug. "You're one of us now," she whispered.

With a final wink at Aether, she turned and headed back toward the fortress, leaving us alone in the field. I watched her go, the daggers warm against my palms, feeling for the first time like I truly belonged somewhere.

"So…" I turned to Aether, still mesmerized by how the crystals pulsed with dual energy. "You were in on this?"

That dimple appeared as he smiled. "Vexa spent every night in the forge while you were healing. I searched the archives for anything that could help." His golden eyes held mine. "We wanted you to have something worthy of what you are."

"And what exactly am I?" The words came out softer than intended.

"The Blade of the Realm, of course." He moved closer, his fingers trailing over one of the arcanite shards. "It's what we call our leader, our Queen." He shook his head, something like wonder crossing his features.

"You make me sound much more impressive than I am."

"Do I?" His expression turned serious. "You survived Valkan's torture. Saved my life. Discovered the truth about siphons and arcanite. You connected us to a growing resistance in Sídhe. And now..." His eyes swept across the field where tiny blades of grass pushed through dead earth. "Now you're bringing life back to a realm that so many had given up on."

Heat flooded my face. "I didn't do any of that alone."

"No," he agreed. "But you gave us something we'd lost. Something even I had forgotten was possible."

"What's that?"

"Hope." He smiled down at me as he took my hand and pulled me through the dead field, our boots crunching against brittle grass.

"There's still so much work to do," I admitted.

"Valkan's troops are the immediate threat," Aether finally said, his voice low. "We expect his brother to claim his title soon."

"I know." I watched the wind breathe across the gray earth, stirring dust into the air. "And we need to give our allies in Sídhe time to plant their seeds. To grow their numbers."

"You trust Laryk to follow through?"

The question held no judgment, just quiet concern. I considered it carefully before answering.

"I trust that he'll help us," I said slowly. "Even if his reasons aren't entirely pure."

"Two wars," Aether said quietly. "One brewing in the South, another in a realm a world away. Both with the power to destroy everything."

The weight of it settled over me. Months ago, I would have crumbled under such pressure, would have run from any whisper of responsibility. But as I looked across this dead field toward the fortress that had once been my prison, I realized how much had changed.

I remembered all those times in Sídhe when I was terrified of everything around me, but mostly of myself. Of allowing myself to want things, to desire, to hope. I never used to let myself do it. But now, it burned so brightly in me that I couldn't deny it had taken permanent residence .

My eyes found the eclipse above us, the sun's rays reaching out from behind the moon's attempt to hide them, as if mirroring my thoughts.

The sound of a blade sliding against leather brought me back. I turned to find Aether drawing his sword, but his eyes were fixed on the expanse beyond.

"You know," he said, his voice taking on an odd tone, "there's an old tradition in Umbrathia. One that's faded in and out of history, I’ve been told."

He turned to face me, his expression somehow more serious than before. "If there was ever a moment that deserved it, it would be now."

Before I could process his words, Aether dropped to one knee before me, resting his sword across his lap.

"What are you?—"

"I've never understood devotion to higher powers," he said, cutting me off. "Never grasped why people pray to gods who remain silent while realms die." His jaw tightened. "I've never given myself to anything like that. Never felt the pull."

"Aether—"

"Thirty years I've been here," he continued, "trying to make sense of this world. Why I found my way here. Whether I even had a purpose, or if this was some form of punishment for whatever atrocities I committed in my first life."

"I believe I understand now." Aether's eyes swept across the field, falling on the arcanite where essence pooled just beneath its crystalline surface. "All of those decades spent here, all of the sleepless nights searching for any kind of meaning to my existence—it was so that I could find you."

The wind caught his hair, dark strands falling across his face as those golden eyes found mine again. My heart thundered in my chest at the raw honesty in his gaze.

"I give myself to you," he said, voice deadly calm. "My life, my shadows, my loyalty—they belong to you now. Not because you're the heir to this realm, but because you're the only thing I've ever wanted to believe in."

I sank to my knees before him, suddenly feeling unworthy of such devotion. This man who could bend armies to his will, who could tear reality apart with a thought, who had completely pulled me into his orbit, even as we both fought it—offering himself to me like I was something sacred.

I reached out to brush the hair from his face. "I don't need a servant. I need you."

The intensity in his eyes nearly stole my breath as he looked at me. And I couldn’t hold myself back anymore. I lunged, tangling myself around him—dragging my lips over his neck, across his cheek until they met his own.

“Fia,” he murmured against my lips before pulling back and taking my face in his hands. “It’s terribly rude to interrupt a man when he’s swearing his life to you.”

“I can think of other ways to get the point across,” I whispered, leaning in against his grip and nipping at his bottom lip.

He studied me briefly, running his hands through my hair before his lips pressed against my throat. “Now?” He murmured dangerously.

“Unless you think your vow can wait?—”

The flex of his body surrounding mine cut me off, and in seconds, I was in his arms as he carried me through the field and into the depths of a broken, gnarled forest.