Page 6 of Duskbound (Esprithean Trilogy #2)

CHAPTER FIVE

"You're going to have to get more momentum than that if you want to sling your leg over properly," Vexa said, crouching beside me on the platform inside the stables. The scent of hay and leather filled my nostrils, mingling with the distinct ashen smell that seemed to permeate everything in this realm. Tryggar stood just ahead, an ill-fitted saddle strapped to his back, his silver coat catching what little light filtered through the stable's weathered beams. Tiny motes of dust danced in the air between us, stirred by his occasional wing movements.

Finally, I had managed to stay out of that tower for more than my daily allotted time, but as much as I wished I could say it was intentional, that I was pretending to be absolutely miserable at learning to ride the Vordr, I couldn’t claim credit. I was just, indeed, miserable at it.

Vexa had been trying to explain the mounting maneuver to me before we tried the real thing, and apparently, I couldn’t get the movement right.

“Their backs are sensitive, and until we can have a proper saddle made to accommodate you both, you’ll have to be extremely careful. I don’t want any injuries. If you fall off one of these, it’s very hard to get back on the next time. Trust me,” Vexa said, demonstrating the maneuver on one of the saddles atop the docking platform.

I nodded, turning back to the saddle of my own, and lunged, jumping to sling my leg over it. I slid as I hit the smooth leather, but managed to grab the horn quickly enough to halt myself.

“Well that was, perhaps, too much momentum.” Vexa chuckled, eyeing my sitting stance as she pursed her lips.

“We’ve been at this for hours. Maybe this just isn’t for me.” I eyed the silver Vordr behind me, who simply snorted and dug his hoof into the hay, tossing his tail to the side.

“Just take a break, I’ll be right back,” she called out as she edged off the platform, hitting the dusty ground with a thud. “Gonna go tell Aether we need more time.”

My gaze followed her as she trudged towards him. We hadn’t spoken a word to each other since our argument days before—when he had engulfed me with shadows. When I had brought them into myself.

My memories of the lawn, of the night in Emeraal when I was taken, had been a jumble of events I could never quite tie together. I had remembered Osta, Laryk, the entirety of the Guard staring at me with widened eyes as the shadows lifted my body.

However, the events that transpired before that had been nothing but a blur. Some empty corner of my mind that wasn’t exactly missing, but couldn’t be pieced together either.

When I let the shadows in, that night had come back in roaring force, and even more so in the days that followed. The feeling of them running through my veins had been immediately familiar, like something that happened once in a dream. But as I racked my mind for whatever part of me they had unlocked, I remembered it all .

The nothingness, whispers of a void. The darkness that overwhelmed me until I nearly lost myself.

I knew I couldn’t run from the truth any longer, but I still didn’t know what I wanted to do with this newfound acceptance. Perhaps Vexa was right about everything, perhaps this was where I belonged, but I was a stranger to this world. To those who lived here. In Sídhe, I had finally started figuring out who I was, what I stood for, and what I wanted to do with it. Was I ready to challenge all of that again?

Despite everything I was attempting to explain, to justify, I couldn’t help that speck in the back of my mind that had begun a dark chain of questioning. It clawed at me from the tiniest of places, like a sliver of wood embedded in the skin.

If what Vexa said was true, if this realm was being drained of its power, if the ashen landscape and the stale food were truly ramifications of this drought… I didn’t know what I would do with that truth. If Sídhe was behind it, there had to be a reason. Didn’t there? There had to be a catalyst . Something.

Sídhe had attacked Riftdremar after the uprising. I knew the Isle was capable of great tragedies—I had never forgotten that. But it had maintained such an idyllic era of peace since the war, at least for the majority of those who lived there. Why would they want to disturb that?

Could I even take Vexa and Aether’s word for it? They would certainly have a reason to lie to me. To manipulate me enough so that I joined their cause. They wanted me as a weapon, I felt it in my bones. And I would never be their weapon. Not for an army I didn’t know. A realm I was a stranger to.

I needed proof. If people were truly suffering, I would need to see it with my own eyes.

A gentle brush against my hand snapped me back to reality, back to the dimly-lit stables. I scratched under Tryggar’s chin, and he nudged me once again, sending a soft hiss of air through his nose. I gave him a few more scratches, chuckling under my breath.

“You really never stop, do you?” I muttered, feeling his soft press again. His dark eyes gleamed, and I couldn’t help but think he looked pleased with himself.

I sighed, giving in to his demand and running my hand along his neck. He nudged me again, this time flicking his gaze toward a nearby basket. It was full of twisted, brittle pieces—dark and rough to the touch. Dried meat that looked like bark. The smell hit me before I even got close. Rusty and sour, like something that had been left out far too long.

He nudged me again, more urgently this time, his eyes fixed on the basket.

I raised an eyebrow. “You want that?”

Tryggar stomped a hoof, narrowing his eyes at the basket, then back at me.

I hesitated. There was something unsettling about it, but I reached for one of the pieces anyway. It felt cold and rough in my hand, like it had once been alive but now only a husk. I handed it to him, unsure of what else to do.

Tryggar snapped it from my hand faster than I could blink. He chewed it with a viciousness that almost startled me, tearing through it with a speed that made my stomach tighten. His jaw worked, muscles tensing as he swallowed in quick, unsettling gulps. The sound of it wasn’t right—like bones breaking too loudly.

“Well, that’s only mildly terrifying,” I muttered, but Tryggar didn’t seem to care. If anything, he looked pleased with himself, nudging me for more attention.

Suddenly, he stretched his wings out, sending a gust of air that knocked over a few baskets and sent hay scattering across the ground. I jumped back, watching as his wings unfurled, stretching wide. They were massive—silver and smoky in the dim light .

He looked at me, and I couldn’t help but smile. “You’re pretty, you know that?”

Tryggar lifted his head, spreading his wings wider, almost like he was showing off. The playful glint in his eyes was unmistakable, like he knew exactly what I’d said.

I laughed. “You’re a real show-off, huh?”

Tryggar seemed content, healthy. Although his diet was questionable by most standards, maybe that made sense. The beast looked like he could devour a whole chicken, though I doubted he’d eat it fresh.

A flash of black caught my attention near the stable opening. Tryggar reacted instantly, spinning around so his back was to me, tail going still. He lowered his head as Raskr tried to enter. Tryggar hissed loudly through his nostrils and stomped, scraping his hoof against the dirt.

“It’s just Raskr,” I called, but Tryggar let out a low growl.

Raskr backed off, eyes falling on me almost fearfully before stomping back off into the lawn.

“Are you the only Vordr allowed in here?” I laughed.

Tryggar turned back to me, settling his nose into my palm once more, his eyes soft, falling onto the gates along the stone wall.

“Have you ever been out there?” I asked, nodding toward the city. “Beyond the walls? In the streets?” I paused, thinking about what Aether and Vexa had implied about the living conditions. “Is it really as bad as they say?”

Tryggar didn’t respond, but he met my gaze with an almost knowing look. The bony protrusions on his head flicked, and he gave a small snort, like he could sense my unease. His nostrils flared, and then he stomped his hoof. He let out a long, drawn-out neigh before nudging my boot.

I sighed, giving him one last pat on the head before making my way over to the two Umbra. They seemed to be in some kind of hushed argument .

“It’s only a matter of time before she’ll be taking to the skies?—”

“That’s exactly why we need to speed things up.” Vexa’s voice cut through the air as she spun around at the sound of my boots crunching against the grass.

“Fia, I was just about to come back over there. How’s it going?” She nearly sang in a tone uncommon for her.

“What is it like out there? Beyond the walls?” I asked, crossing my arms.

Vexa opened her mouth, and then closed it, pursing her lips. She looked to Aether, some silent conversation shooting between them, exchanging narrowed looks before Aether simply nodded. And just as Vexa turned her attention back to me, Aether pushed past us, his arm brushing against mine. I ignored the flare of irritation that sparked within me.

He glanced back in our direction, his eyes deliberately avoiding mine, before speaking with an edge I couldn’t quite place.

“Perhaps it’s time we showed you.”

The black stone wall that circled the fortress loomed closer as we made our way towards one of the outer gates that led to the city. I glanced over my shoulder taking in the monstrous castle that was situated behind the towers we came from.

The farther we moved away, the more it grew. What had seemed like a small city of its own was actually just a tiny courtyard in comparison. It was as breathtaking as it was intimidating.

Who ruled over this land? Who sat on the throne inside this monstrosity?

“You’ll trip if you don’t start looking where you’re going,” Aether spoke, breaking my concentration. I had been so distracted I hadn’t noticed he’ d moved to my right, only a pace behind. Vexa was ahead already waving down the Umbra stationed at the gates.

I blinked up at him, surprised he’d decided to speak to me at all.

“Careful, that sounds like something a gentleman might say.”

“In that case, carry on.” He didn’t smile, but there was a flicker of light in his eyes. Probably glowing at the thought of me falling and busting my ass.

We caught up to Vexa just as the gates were opening. My heart rate increased as I moved into the unknown. I was sure this trip would be of no help in an escape plan, otherwise they wouldn’t be bringing me along. That didn’t mean I shouldn’t take in every detail.

As if a sound barrier had been broken, the chaotic noise of a city flooded the lawn.

“Welcome to Ravenfell.” Vexa’s tone was somber.

What I saw before me was a mixture of beauty and tragedy. The cramped stone buildings of the city were just as intricate as that of the fortress, but the residents congested every street and alleyway. The conditions had me sucking in a long breath. Stalls were scattered down the street, devoid of the color of fresh fruits and instead offering grains and minimal jars of preserved items I couldn’t quite make out. I watched as someone tried to deftly swipe a bag of rice from one of the merchants, which quickly resulted in a brawl that had the grain scattering across the uneven stone walkway. I had to swallow the bile in my throat when I watched as people immediately dropped to their knees scooping what they could of it into their palms, pebbles and all.

As I moved through the cracked streets, feeling the weight of eyes turning to me, I noticed that everyone in this vicinity had dark hair, cascading down their backs or tied in loose knots at the nape of their necks, black as the night sky—every single body. It was the same for the members of the Umbra I had encountered. My gaze fell to the white curls that framed my face, and a lump tightened in my throat. I stood out like a sore thumb, the contrast stark and jarring. Vexa and Aether had made it seem like I belonged here, but I certainly didn’t share this trait with the Kalfar. Despite the common characteristic, their skin tones ranged in muted shades of flesh from pale to onyx. All desaturated. All dull.

A group of children, looking to range in age between seven and ten stood near a well, their faces dirty. They were so thin—so uncharacteristically small that my stomach nearly lurched when I imagined what they went home to every day, if they had a home at all. They kicked a leather ball between them, one that seemed deflated and worn, the stitches fraying at the seams. I watched on as one of the boys smiled, and let out a laugh as he kicked the ball past the other two, celebrating his small victory. A part of me felt a spark of something warm at the exchange, but that sank into my gut once I realized how winded they were—how winded everyone seemed.

The air was thick with the smell of something burning in the distance, smoke lingering in the streets. It was a strange, sharp scent that stung the back of my nostrils. I hadn’t prepared to see this. I placed a hand over my stomach, trying to quell the ache of seeing so many—so fucking many, with such dull pain in their eyes, still trying to live, to survive in this cramped place. How could they ever allow the city to become this overrun?

Before I could take a step away from the commotion, my path was blocked by a woman in a state of panic, her eyes already pleading with me. "Miss, my husband needs to see a medic, but the Queen only sends them every two weeks. Please, it's urgent. I beg of you."

I looked quickly at Vexa, whose face had softened with genuine pain. "When did they last come through?" she asked, her voice gentle .

"Ten days ago," the woman whispered, wringing her hands. "He's gotten so much worse since then."

Vexa shared a look with Aether, something unspoken passing between them. "They need time to recover enough essence to heal again. I wish—" She stopped herself, jaw clenching. "I'm sorry. We're sending them as often as they can manage without burning out completely."

The woman's shoulders slumped, but she nodded in understanding. This wasn't the first time she'd heard this explanation, I realized. Not the first time she'd had to accept that help wasn't coming soon enough.

"Which district?" Aether asked quietly.

"Eastern quarter, near the old well," she replied.

"I'll make sure they check there first next time," he said, and though his voice was steady, I could see the toll this took on him—having to walk away when people needed help.

More desperate faces were turning toward us now, drawn by the hope of aid. Aether's hand found my lower back, urging me forward. “Walk faster,” he spoke in a low tone, pushing me forward into the crowd.

I hissed and smacked him away. “I told you not to touch me.”

His hands flexed at his side before pushing them into his pockets.

“By all means, capture the attention of every beggar on the street. There’s no shortage of them, as you can see.” His tone was cruel, but I quickened my pace.

I felt desperate to turn back to the woman, but knew I would be of no help. I had nothing to offer.

“You don’t have healers?” I asked aloud, the feeling of uselessness making me feel restless.

“They’re called medics. But their tethers are weakened. It can take weeks for them to harness enough essence to be of help. Hence, the limited visits to the city.” Vexa sounded exhausted.

I never could have imagined what a realm without essence would look like. It was so heavily relied upon in Sídhe but was so inherent it was barely given a second thought. Like breathing air for most. The loss of a focus would be a tragedy for many. It didn’t compare to the loss of essence in the landscape. One could live without power, but not without food and water.

I couldn’t help but compare it to Luminaria. The overwhelming abundance of plants and life. The community gardens lush with food for all—glittering canals brimming with fish. I tried and failed to recall the last time I’d seen someone with an illness.

As a Riftborne, life had never been easy, but it was certainly never like this.

“We get shipments of grain from the South but they’re mostly rationed—and starting to come less and less as the land loses its nutrients. This part of the country is still livable but the Eastern side is a wasteland now,” Vexa explained.

“We had a huge influx of people when Vardruun fell,” Aether’s tone was low, carrying an edge I knew was directed at me. “We lack the resources to house them all.”

“I don’t understand. When did all of this happen?” I asked, feeling a sense of desperation. I didn’t try to hide the crack in my voice.

Vexa shot her eyes to Aether before responding.

“We don’t know exactly when it began, but the Eastern border started drying up nearly a decade ago.”

A decade?

“The effects weren’t immediately noticeable. Especially the further you get from the rip.”

We walked for a long while in silence. Bodies started to dwindle as we neared the end of the street and turned a corner. A small building with little foot traffic came into view.

“Should we stop in?” Vexa eyed Aether. “I’m sure they're inside practicing. You know how much they’d want to see you.”

Aether simply nodded, shrugging casually.

“Don’t let him fool you, Fia. He might be a complete drag when it comes to social interactions, but children really bring it out of him,” Vexa teased, nudging his shoulder.

“And Vexa is a drag for all, including children, I’m afraid.”

He cut his eyes at her, the hint of a grin playing at his lips as Vexa snorted. Then he stepped past me and continued through the open door. He must have known I wouldn’t run off because he was no longer worried about guarding me from behind. I guess the city itself was its own deterrent.

“Who will be here?” I asked Vexa, matching her pace to follow her around the curved entrance that opened into a circular arena once inside.

“Just Carden, Lael, and Uma. Lael is finally old enough to enter the Strykka. Those three are inseparable. Carden and Uma will be training right alongside him until they can enter themselves.”

Another word I didn’t know. I bit back my annoyance at the lack of clarification.

Vexa must have noticed but she didn’t bother to explain.

The three mentioned were in the center of the arena. It looked like two of them were about to begin a sparring match before they noticed Aether’s approach.

“No way!” A boy looking no older than thirteen ran towards him. The other boy, sixteen at most, looked just as excited at Aether’s arrival but seemed to be playing it cool.

“Aether! Vexa!” the girl called out with a wave. She wore all black. The fabric was cotton but it was clear she was trying to mimic the garb of the Umbra with a few belts that held no purpose wrapped around her waist.

Aether was ruffling the hair of the younger boy that had collided into him. A semblance of a smile crossed his lips, causing a dimple to appear.

As much as I tried, I couldn’t look away.

“Me and Lael have been practicing all day. You should see how good we’ve gotten.” Carden grinned up at him with admiration.

“Is that so? Maybe you can show me before we head back.” Aether looked towards Lael and nodded. The attention put a crack in his stoic facade, causing a boyish grin to appear.

“Do you think I will be able to work with you Aether?” He looked hopeful.

“I would rather you help around the fortress,” Aether spoke with indifference but the intensity of his eyes told me he meant it.

“I’m not honing my skills to stay locked in the fortress,” Uma chimed in, leaning into a fighting stance and narrowing her eyes.

“Our tethers are way too cool for that,” Carden added.

“You’re not using your tethers too much are you?” Vexa’s voice chided.

“We’re saving them, don’t worry,” Lael said. “As hard as that is.”

I had to admit it was strange to see these two go into such parental roles.

“Who is she?” Carden pointed at me, still glued to Aether’s side.

“Why does she look like that?” Uma mused.

Vexa snorted, but it was Aether who responded.

“Our new friend.” The sarcasm in his words was not lost on me. I fought back a grimace.

Uma tugged on her hair while looking at mine in fascination. “You’re pretty,” she hummed.

“Thank you,” I replied awkwardly. It seemed I would never be able to take a compliment well. Even from a child.

Aether clapped his hands, making a sharp echo through the vaulted room.

“How about you all show me what you’ve been practicing?” His dimples appeared again when he smiled at the three of them bouncing with energy.

It took Vexa grabbing my arm and pulling me towards the seats along the edge to break my trance.

“Who are these children?” I asked once we were far enough away.

Vexa threw a glance back over her shoulder, eyes going soft. “Orphans from across the realm,” she said. “When cities were evacuated, the Umbra took them in and gave them places to stay within our lodging. Clothes. Food. Uma and Carden are siblings, but Lael—we found him alone.”

We watched them spar, Aether instructing from the sidelines with his hands clasped loosely behind his back. He gave encouragement and pointers every few movements.

“So, the Strykka? Is this a way to join the Umbra?”

“It’s one of them. A set of trials one must complete to enter the elite units,” Vexa murmured vacantly, fully focused on the spar happening in front of us.

“Don’t you think they are a little too young?” My stomach churned at the thought of these kids becoming ruthless killers. They seemed too innocent for what they would surely be trained to do.

“Of course they’re too young. They’re children. But we don’t have much of a choice these days. At first, people joined the Umbra in hordes when the drought began, knowing it was the easiest source of regular meals and a place to live, but even that slowed down after a while. Kalfar don’t see a purpose in it anymore. They’d rather die with their loved ones, not on a battlefield a world away. We’re lucky to get a few recruits per year.”

“It feels wrong,” I whispered, almost to myself.

“Yes, it does, doesn’t it?” she said, not really a question. “A land ravaged by war is always brutal. Difficult decisions have to be made… but this–this is different.”

We sat in silence for a moment, watching on as Aether turned the younger boy up over his shoulder playfully .

“Their tethers, are they being trained to use them?”

“It takes too much essence. They ration their tethers until it’s time to prove themselves. They will be depleted once the Strykka is finished.”

I nodded. Moments slipped by.

“If it’s really Sídhe draining the essence from the land…” I trailed off, taking a deep breath. “I don’t understand it. It’s perfect there, I don’t see why they would jeopardize that type of peace.”

“Have you ever wondered why it’s so perfect there?” she asked, turning to look at me now.

Bile rose in my throat.

“Have you never wondered why poverty and hunger are scarcities in your realm? Why harvests had become more bountiful than ever before, why your life spans grow while ours lessen?”

In truth, I had wondered about all of it. It had never made sense why Sídhe had experienced such economic growth, such prosperity out of nowhere. No one ever seemed to question it, so I guess I stopped questioning it myself. But I’d never—never once—thought it would be something like this.

We had been thriving while another realm turned to dust.