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SEASONS OF OUR LIVES

SERYN ~ NOWADAYS

M y bones ached, the muscles of my leather-clad thighs screaming as they gripped the thick saddle between them.

Atop a pair of burnished mares, Gavrel and I moved through the dense forest of Evergryn.

For the last few days, we’d journeyed past endless grymwood trees.

The farther we got, the grayer the hues that sank into the grain of the imposing trunks.

They surrounded us from every angle, their desiccated branches raking at the surrounding spaces, poking their nearest comrades, trying to get their attention as we passed.

My horse followed Gavrel’s, dark hooves crunching over dead grymwood needles, dried grass, and rocks as it cantered rhythmically.

Gavrel’s massive hands gently pulled on his animal’s reins, and I did the same, a rumbling huff puffing from my steed’s flaring nostrils as we slowed.

My lips pressed into a firm line as I studied Gavrel’s back. His sheathed broadsword bumped against the corded muscles.

We had spoken little during our trip. Each second dragged across the day. We had secured supplies and food at various villages along the way, ate in silence, slept on separate bedrolls under the bristled canopy and blackened skies, awakened, and did it all over again.

Sometimes, the corner of Gavrel’s mouth would curl ever so slightly, but then his brow would fall as he sipped in a quick bit of air, remnants of stifled words catching in his thick throat. Perhaps he knew I didn’t have it in me for idle conversation or to deconstruct our past.

Perhaps he didn’t either.

Good .

I breathed in the damp, foggy musk. It smelled of timber and rot. We surveyed our surroundings, ears tuned to the faintest echo of any movement not our own.

So far, the plan to head east, toward Haadra, was the right one.

There had been no sign of the two Akridais, the Elders’ elite Druik enforcers, stalking us.

No doubt Elder Melina Harrow’s fury was mounting with every passing day in which our chained bodies weren’t dropped at her feet.

I pushed the delicate frame of my chin forward, the bitter taste of disgust rippling over my tongue before I swallowed it back.

With a deep inhale, I ran my hand over the coarse mane of my mount. Luckily, Gavrel had brought a cache of coins from his earnings as a commander, so we were able to barter for the horses in a small village early on our journey.

Thank the Ancients.

I lifted my eyes to the aether, my brow crinkling. Do the Ancients deserve accolades any longer?

Where were they as Midst Fall crumbled around us?

As the Elder Laws oppressed mortals and Druiks alike, the heel of the oligarchy’s mandates digging into our spines, our voices muffled and choking in the dirt.

Where were they as the Dormancy stole seasons of our lives—our minds ravaged by malignant dreams?

My nostrils flared with a frustrated exhale, and Gavrel turned to me as my mare fell in step beside his. His expression remained stoic and unflinching. Impassive. He was always brooding; his plump mouth set in an unwavering slash across his face.

Heat zipped down my spine, and I shifted the rucksack on my back, its weight distracting my attention away from Gavrel’s heartbreakingly beautiful. Fucking. Face.

A line of wariness and exhaustion dented the space between my brows as I dug my molars into each other. The fingers of my left hand squeezed around the reins, the cool, carved tourmaline of my ring humming against my forefinger.

My gaze roamed upward, searching for pockets of sunlight pushing through the crown. I ground the base of my thumb into my belt satchel. Two glass vials squeaked against each other between the leather.

I had too many resurfaced recollections to sift through since taking the embered Mirage Orchid elixir several days past. Murky memories of Gavrel and me embracing two springs ago weaved with those of Kaden’s arms around me during the last Dormancy.

My best friend’s head between my thighs under the Elysium Tree in Surrelia.

His teeth nipping at my neck.

Me straddling Gavrel under a clear, starry night in the woods behind my cottage. Igniting as I rubbed against him while he sucked and bit at my breasts.

Me whispering, finally .

A rush of heat sped over my skin and pooled within my very core. Biting the inside of my cheek, I clenched my thighs.

Shame twisted in my gut. The image of Kaden, traces of anguish marring his usual smirk, stomped through the lust of my first intimacy with his brother.

These were the moments when I wished Derya hadn’t made the potion.

That I’d remained oblivious to all the erased experiences in which the Dormancy and Melina had swept into the crevices of my mind.

Others, I clutched tightly within my chest, the knowledge of them burning through every cell and pushing me onward .

My father, Gideon, one of the Elders’ Somneia spies, dooming Gavrel and Kaden’s mother, Hestia, to death by culling.

Melina’s abuse and torment of countless Midst Fall citizens, including two of her fellow Elders.

She possessed a warped and wanton lust for dominance at any cost. She had specifically erased my memories of my ember’s origins, and that was … something. It pointed to her insecurities. Her fears.

Within every shadowy corner of my mind, ashes of drifting recollections settled. Along the edges, a few things were clear, and the reflections of reclaimed fragments cast light over them.

Elder Harrow was wary of my gifts, just like she’d been of my mother’s. Perhaps she suspected that Mama and I were Scions, primed to undergo Ascension and take her spot.

Damn Melina to the Nether Void . I didn’t want her place as an Elder, and I suspected Mama hadn’t either. Nonetheless, we paid Melina’s price.

I squeezed my eyes tightly, trapping the thought of my mother—and the hope that she was still alive—behind the lids.

“We’re close,” Gavrel announced, and my attention snapped to him. Melina was obsessed with Gavrel. Covetous and jealous enough to erase my memories of our fleeting relationship.

A heavy sigh fell from me, and I tucked an errant curl behind my ear, mollified that the rest of it remained in a messy plait.

I studied the strong, angular line of his profile as he reached into the pocket of his black trousers, removing a wrinkled scroll. Gavrel had sent missives to Rhaegar and Xeni by harbinger starlings from the village where we had acquired our mounts.

I grimaced, thinking of the small gray spotted birds. They were temperamental beasties, but they took their job of delivering messages across the realm seriously. You just might get pecked for their efforts, though.

Turns ago, while stationed in Pneumali City, Gavrel had sent his brother a scroll by harbinger.

Kaden had warily untied the message from the bird’s leg, and the scrappy thing stabbed him in the thumb with its tiny yellow beak before puffing its feathers and flying off.

Kaden acted as if he had been impaled. My mouth curled at the memory.

With a breathy, amused exhale, I straightened in my seat and refocused on Gavrel.

We’d find Kaden. There was no other outcome I’d accept. I only hoped Gavrel’s dream—what he believed to be a premonition—was correct, and that we’d find Kaden safe in the Perilous Bogs.

Gavrel rolled the fawn-colored paper, nodding as he tucked it away. I followed his line of sight toward a tall boulder nestled between a pair of thick trees.

Only Xeni had replied, her message relaying that she would meet us at this location via a hidden portal from Haadra, her home region.

A couple of days ago, Gavrel had revealed that his Draumr team and the Akridais knew the locations of several secret portals throughout the realm, which could only be accessed and activated by those with ember.

Throughout the turns, these portals had helped them traverse the expanse of Midst Fall and swiftly complete various missions.

The star-shaped scar on my neck tingled with anticipation as we dismounted and secured the horses.

Although it had been part of me my entire life, its constant buzz served as a reminder of both my failings and my potential as a Druik.

If a shade hadn’t attacked me in the Stygian Murk last autumn, leaving the hidden talisman undisturbed, would my path have been different?

Or would my gifts have eventually overpowered the rune’s spell?

Realizing such thoughts were futile, I breathed out steadily through pursed lips, allowing my ember to flow in rippling waves under my skin.

Dimly glowing auras flared to life as we made our way to the boulder.

Grayish greens flickered about the grymwoods as they clung to the last vestiges of their existence.

Shades of brown and amber twinkled over various living surfaces, and a streak of smoky black trailed after a plump raven as it flew over our heads and into the distance ahead.

The intricate, ten-point star on Gavrel’s right hand pulsed into existence, a white glimmer lurking under the delicate, intersecting lines.

During our journey, I often forgot about his rune tattoo because it remained invisible in the mortal realm in the same way that my ember was tucked away.

It blazed for a moment as a misty vortex spun in the center of the rock.

My heart fluttered as amber orbs twirled within the haze like beckoning fireflies. A petite, yet solid, frame stepped through the opening. Xeni’s features emerged, the fog clinging to the rich, tawny brown skin of her face and hands as she exited the portal.

Meticulously, her golden-brown eyes swept over her surroundings before landing on us. She adjusted the baldric across her torso as the glow from her hand tattoo flickered out.

“Commander.” She nodded, standing tall in her dark Draumr uniform. One eyebrow rose slightly as she studied Gavrel’s black tunic and breeches with clear, assessing eyes. Curiosity shone in her deep, burnished pools. Warriors rarely wore anything but their uniforms.

Gavrel offered her a kind smile. “Any news about the state Helos is in?”

Helos, the capital of the region, was situated in the swampy easternmost part of the Perilous Bogs. If you could call the grouping of ramshackle huts a city.

According to Gavrel, about a hundred dwellings huddled together, their bases resting on a system of wooden supports and walkways.

The city was in a constant state of survival against the harsh, mucky landscape and leftover floodwaters gifted from Haadra and Ourea Peaks, the impenetrable line of melting, snow-capped mountains to the north.

“There’s major overflow from the lochs. Navigating south isn’t advisable,” Xeni reported matter-of-factly.

“We’ll chance it.” My confident tone belied the rapid pulse under my scar. Air stuck in my throat. Even without the deluge, the Bogs were dangerous to traverse, but we needed to get to Kaden .

She pursed her lips, digging a small scroll from her pocket and handing it to Gavrel. “I also received this missive. Addressed to you.” One of her delicate eyebrows lifted. “Arrived early this morning.”

“That’s … odd,” he muttered, unrolling it. His eyes quickly studied the curling letters. A frown pulled at the corners of his lips as he ran a hand through his wavy hair and then looked at me with a heavy sigh. He looked to the east. “We’ll continue to Ceto then.”

I rubbed my fingers across my forehead. “We don’t have the time.”

“This”—he gave me the yellowed paper—“might help us find him. Besides, the closest portal that leads to Helos is somewhere near the Ourea Peaks along the Haadran border.”

My mouth pressed together, but then slackened as I read the note.

You’ll find your next path.

With the seer, you’ll meet.

On the morrow at The Oracle’s Seat.

I crumpled the parchment. “We’re following some cryptic note from Ancients knows who?”

“It’s the best lead we have,” he said and moved toward the twirling opening, his rune igniting. “Let’s move.”

I shook my head, knowing he was right. If it was a trap, then so be it. Choosing to venture into the Perilous Bogs could cost us days. Weeks even. But finding the portal to Helos would be a boon indeed.

Xeni hesitated, her stance shifting away from the boulder. My fingers clutched Gavrel’s sword belt at his shoulder. Boots faltering, he faced me.

My head bobbed toward Xeni. Her chin lifted. “I’d hoped to be stationed in Evergryn, sir. Unless you require my assistance?”

A sly smile slipped across my lips, and I pulled her into a firm hug. Her body stiffened, but then relaxed ever so slightly before I released her. “Letti took the Mirage Orchid tonic. I’m sure she’d be ecstatic to see you, and I’d be in your debt if you watched over her.”

Her eyes widened, the corners of her mouth gently tipping upward. A beautiful rush of mauve swept across the gentle slopes of her cheekbones. She looked away as she smoothed her hands over the starched fabric of her overcoat.

“You can stay in my cottage next door,” Gavrel offered, not wasting any further time as he gave her directions and directives to monitor my father and not allude to me or my sister regaining our memories.

The warriors clasped each other’s wrists in farewell before Xeni swung atop one horse, guiding the other beside her. She bobbed her head once and then turned toward her destination.

Toward Letti.

My heart thumped heavily as the image of my sister hovered behind my eyes.

Gavrel’s soft, gravelly words pulled me back. “Ready, Little Star?”

The muscle behind my ribs fluttered within its cage at the nickname slipping from his lips.

My shoulders pushed back, the seam of my mouth tightly clamping together. With more confidence than I felt, I strode past him into the coiling haze.

Better to tumble through a damned portal than to fall to pieces at his feet.