Page 49

CHAPTER 49

SERENNA

S erenna stepped into the atrium with Fenn and Lykor, halting at the sight before her.

Sunlight poured through the high archways, gilding Kaedryn and four other druids. They knelt in a crescent with their heads bowed and wings tucked in tight. Their attire—fighting leathers, vibrant sunweave, and richly dyed robes—was as varied and striking as the scale patterns flecked across their skin.

Along the chamber’s perimeter, at least twenty servants stood in silent formation, each presenting a weapon—blades, axes, scythes, spears, and even something that looked like a meat cleaver. While the druids’ faces remained impassive, Serenna noted the slight quiver of the talons roosted on their wing tips.

Finished with healing Vesryn, Jassyn now sat next to him on the couch, placing a steadying hand on the prince’s shoulder. But his positioning looked more like a calculated effort to keep Vesryn anchored in place than anything else.

Clutching the lip of the sofa, Vesryn teetered as he leaned forward, eyes glassy while he squinted and glared at each of the druids in turn.

The bond with the prince blurred, and Serenna realized that he’d been dosed with more venom than necessary to numb his injuries—enough to send him drifting beyond reality. She pursed her lips and cast a glance up at Fenn.

But whatever amusement Fenn had shown earlier had vanished, replaced by the sharp attention of a warrior as he focused on Kaedryn.

On Serenna’s other side, Lykor sneered at those kneeling, restless shadows writhing around him. His shoulders twitched as he folded his arms across his robe, shifting his blazing eyes to scan each presented weapon.

Serenna inhaled a stabilizing breath. If she let Lykor act on his simmering fury, they would be strung back up on the pillars before the sun set.

Stepping forward, her voice rang through the silence. “What is the meaning of this?”

Kaedryn pressed her claws over her heart, downcast eyes fixed on the hem of Serenna’s robe. Sunlight glimmered over the scales dusting her cheeks, each ridge reflecting the light like polished onyx.

“We offer ourselves as punishment for what you endured in the Sunforge,” Kaedryn replied solemnly. In a leathery rustle, she spread her wings, the druids flanking her unfolding theirs in turn. “With whatever weapon you deem fit—or if you wish to use earth and starlight.”

Serenna’s knees locked when Essence pulsed beside her.

Lykor extended his claw. A flail wrenched free from a servant’s grasp, flying toward him with a whip of force. The wooden handle slapped into his palm, the three spiked balls clanging together in metallic thuds as they swung.

Testing the weapon, his arm flexed as he hefted it.

Serenna’s pulse quickened when Lykor stalked forward, a predator closing in on prey. The druids didn’t flinch as he circled them. They had accepted this.

She pointedly cleared her throat. When Lykor glanced back at her, she raised her brows. His eyes burned with the fires of retribution, lip curling to bare his fangs.

Scowling at his challenge, Serenna jerked her head to her side, unsure if he’d abandon the vengeance he clearly believed he was owed—despite claiming that she should be the one to handle the druids.

Lykor’s knuckles cracked as he tightened his grip on the flail’s handle.

An unhinged laugh spilled across the room—Vesryn, cackling wildly.

Lykor’s head snapped toward the prince. Leg raised, Vesryn waved his foot in the air, pointing at the empty space between his toes.

Jassyn waged a silent battle, grappling with his cousin in a valiant effort to subdue him, fingers digging into Vesryn’s knee to pin his foot back to the floor.

Why didn’t you dose him properly? Serenna hissed into Fenn’s mind.

Fenn’s mouth twitched as he thumbed a lip ring and shrugged. I must’ve misjudged what he required.

Obviously.

“This…offering isn’t necessary,” Serenna said, her words meant to be the chain that yanked Lykor back before the spikes on his weapon hacked into scales.

But it wasn’t her voice that halted him. She had help.

Across the room, Jassyn pressed a firm hand on Vesryn’s shoulder to prevent him from standing. But he wasn’t paying any attention to the prince’s struggle—his eyes were locked with Lykor’s.

No words passed between them. Just the faintest shake of Jassyn’s head.

Lykor’s eyes flicked back to Serenna and the flail creaked under the strain of his grasp. For a moment, he didn’t move.

Then, with a grudging sigh and a muttered curse, he rolled his neck and stepped back to her side.

A weighted pause settled over the chamber, the guild masters remaining prostrated, wings still spread in submission.

Kaedryn swallowed, a delicate swirl of scales undulating along her throat. Slowly, she lifted her head.

“But we are ready to sacrifice our wings,” she whispered, her voice laced with quiet dread. The taloned tips shivered as if they sensed their fate. “Once severed, we’ll be denied the wind and sky, grounded in our shadow walker forms forever.” She bowed low, her forehead brushing the floor. “Death in the Sunforge would be a kinder mercy.”

“Shadow walker?” Fenn echoed. His eyes flared with interest as he studied the surrounding servants—some partially shifted between wraith and druid, others fully scaled, some showing none. “That is what you call the wraith?”

Hesitating, Kaedryn glanced up at Serenna, seeking approval.

Serenna held her gaze before providing a measured nod.

“Shadow walkers,” Kaedyrn repeated. “Aelfyn who have no starlight.”

Her reptilian eyes narrowed to vertical slits as they drifted toward the prince. Jassyn had finally coaxed Vesryn into reclining on the couch, though he was far from settled. Hand hovering over his face, the prince’s fingers flexed while he mumbled under his breath, frowning as he traced each digit.

Kaedryn’s wings shuddered as she refocused on Serenna.

“I have a different penance in mind,” Serenna said.

Lykor’s jaw clenched and unclenched, but he kept his glare locked on the druids. A little thrill bolted through her. He wasn’t just letting her do this—he was standing beside her, reinforcing her authority with his silent menace.

“We want to see more of Asharyn,” Serenna continued. Kaedryn’s wings stilled mid-tremor. “In the morning. After we’ve rested. We have questions about your city and your people, as I’m sure you have about us. And please,” she motioned to the five on the ground, “there’s no need to kneel.”

The druids exchanged wary glances before obedience won out. They rose in staggered succession, some of them shifting—scales dissolving, wings dispersing with a quiet rustle.

Serenna’s mind whirled with a cautious curiosity. Zealots will bow today and burn us tomorrow. She hoped Lykor was wrong.

Beside her, Lykor’s shadows pulsed, a storm gathering. “Our armor,” he growled, slinging the flail over his shoulder.

For stars’ sake. Serenna rolled her eyes to the vaulted ceiling before collecting herself.

Addressing Kaedryn, she gestured toward the males beside her. “Would your artisans tour Lykor and Fenn through your armory? Fenn has an interest in your venom-forged weapons and Lykor…” She defied his flaming glower when their eyes met, smothering the urge to smirk. “He’d be far more at ease in his leathers. I’m sure he’d be curious to see how your gear accommodates shifting.”

Lykor’s nostrils flared and Serenna nearly batted her lashes at him just to watch his irritation boil over.

Fenn inched closer to her as Kaedryn hesitantly introduced Lykor to another druid—the artisan guild master.

Someone needs to make sure Lykor stays on his best behavior, Serenna told Fenn, her mouth twitching at the thought. I’ll be fine here.

Just say the word and I’ll return. Fenn inclined his head, attention snagging on something across the room.

Serenna followed the flicker of his rekindled amusement—straight to where Jassyn had just lost his battle to keep the prince seated. Clearly determined to move around the quarters, Vesryn lurched to his feet, shrugging Jassyn off as he staggered toward a druid bearing a platter laden with food.

Pursing her lips, Serenna nearly asked Fenn to bite the prince again and knock him out entirely. Better that than letting him stumble around as the venom’s effects wore off.

But she sighed, dismissing the thought. It was pointless. She couldn’t prevent the group from offending the druids forever—it was only a matter of time.

As Lykor and Fenn disappeared with the guild masters, Serenna gathered her courage to continue with Kaedryn. She approached the pedestal where the surrendered Starshard lay sparkling in sunlight.

Holding her breath, she reached for the intricate piece of jewelry, the cold touch of metal sending a shiver up her arm. Exhaling, Serenna tightened her grip and squared her shoulders before crossing the chamber.

She extended the artifact to Kaedryn—not just to return it, but as a token of goodwill. A gesture meant to be a bridge, to test whether trust could be built.

“I’d like you to instruct Vesryn,” Serenna said, waving to where he was picking through trays of food under Jassyn’s watchful eye, “on how to wield this crystal. We have two of our own, but we don’t know how to harness them—or what they truly are.”

Kaedryn’s claw hovered over the gem as she glanced between the jewelry and the prince. “The relics were passed down from our ancestors.” After a pause, she nodded and accepted it. Slipping her fingers into the rings, she fastened the web of chains and delicate clasps. “They’re Aelfyn devices, but most of the crystals we possess have been depleted of their starlight.”

Aelfyn devices. A cold knot twisted in Serenna’s stomach. In a way, their theories about the artifacts had been right. It made sense that Kaedryn’s people shared Aelfyn origins—all wraith did. But how did they come to be druids?

She needed to prioritize her questions, tread carefully through this fragile diplomacy. And she had to succeed, because failure meant Lykor might try to beat the answers out of them.

With thinly veiled unease, Kaedryn tracked Vesryn, who was now meandering around the room.

Serenna decided it would be best to speak to the leader alone—especially if the prince’s presence continued to unsettle her. “Would you show me the gardens?” she asked.

Kaedryn’s eyes flared softly as she dipped her head. “It would be my honor.”

She shifted back into her wraith form, the clawed talons on her wing tips clicking together before they vanished.

She beckoned for Serenna to follow, guiding her through an arched doorway and down a spiral sandstone staircase that led to the lush courtyard below. With each graceful step, the folds of Kaedryn’s robes whispered apart, revealing fleeting glimpses of her shoulder blades through the flowing panels.

Serenna broke the silence, careful to keep her tone light and conversational—not prying. “You’re able to shift so seamlessly. Is there a reason some druids choose to keep their scales and wings visible, while others don’t?”

Kaedryn slowed at the foot of the stairs, lips curving into a faint, almost self-conscious smile. “The wings grow heavy, even for those accustomed to the skies.” Amusement flickered in her eyes. “Though, those with something to prove—typically males—keep them out as if it’s a mark of strength.”

As she stepped into the cushioned grasses, Serenna released a laugh that unraveled some of her tension. She knew a few who’d do the same.

The sweet scent of jasmine drifted in the nearly cool air, as if they were a world apart from the desert’s golden fury rather than merely on the other side of a wall. Rectangular pools mirrored the sky, wide-petaled flowers floating on the surface, their layered leaves unfurling in blushing shades of dawn.

“This place is beautiful,” Serenna breathed as they followed a winding path deeper into the garden’s heart. “Do your people have other havens like this?”

“No,” Kaedryn murmured, her solemn expression bearing the weight of centuries. “We are the last.”

“I’m sorry,” Serenna said quietly, sensing a sorrow too vast for words. “We believed your race had faded into myth. But to see your people alive…” Her head tipped to the sky as a squad of druids flew overhead, silhouetted by the evening sun. “It’s as if a legend has stepped out of the past.”

“Our way of life fell into shadow centuries before my time, when the world fractured.” Despite the absence of her wings, Kaedryn’s shoulders curved inward as they walked through the peace of the garden. “My ancestors chose preservation over war. It may seem selfish, but for the remnant, it was survival.”

Jassyn’s theories from Centarya resurfaced in Serenna’s mind. How the druids had sacrificed themselves a thousand years ago to curse the Aelfyn’s reign.

Kaedryn drew to a halt beneath a trellis where trumpet-shaped flowers spilled down on vines. “I never dared to dream that the gifts of the earth would return within my lifetime.” She idly traced the delicate chains of jewelry looped around her claw. “We’ve waited for those like you—hoping you might help reclaim what was lost.”

Serenna’s heart quickened as uncertainty fluttered under her ribs. They might need us as much as we need them.

“What did you lose?” she asked, her voice gentle but pressing.

“Everything.” Kaedryn’s talons clicked against the Starshard cradled in her palm as she formed a fist. “Our ancestors ruled the skies, but they were also stewards of power that shielded our lands. That strength vanished when a faction of Aelfyn chained the last of the dragons.”

Serenna’s breath caught. Does she know where they are? The question burned on her tongue, but she sank her teeth into the inside of her cheek to hold it back. She forced herself to wait. To listen.

“There was an alliance once,” Kaedryn whispered. “Druids, shamans, and the last of the dragons purged the corrupted Aelfyn from these shores. But it came at a cost, and the earth’s blessings withered.”

She stared at tiny birds flitting between flowering bushes, their wings a blur of green and umber. “They had no choice but to abandon the human tribes scattered on the other side of the mountains and sea,” she continued, grief pooling between her words. “The remnant stayed in Asharyn, the last city, guarding what remained—waiting for the New Dawn.”

“The New Dawn,” Serenna echoed, sensing the ancient hope in those words.

Kaedryn’s gaze lifted, meeting hers. “The earth is reawakening. You, a child of earth and starlight, are proof of that. But it also means our time is expiring. We always knew the Aelfyn would return—stronger than before—to reclaim what they once bound in chains.”

A shadow of confusion and shame flickered over Kaedryn’s face. “The Aelfyn with you—he carries the starlight of the betrayers. That is why his death was required.”

Serenna curled her nails into her palms, pulse pounding in her temples. “Vesryn is different,” she said slowly, measuring each word. She fought to steady her voice, to temper the sharp edge of her fury at how he’d been treated. “He might look like his ancestors, but he’s not them.”

And besides, they were all shaped by the Aelfyn’s legacy—Kaedryn had admitted as much.

“Vesryn is here because he wants a world without their tyrannical rule,” Serenna insisted, unfurling her fingers as she shoved her anger aside.

The druids would have to decide if they truly meant to follow them like Kaedryn had claimed. Stand with her— and her companions—against the king, or vanish into legend for good.

Because the elves were coming. And this time, they would shatter the world. No remnant would remain hidden.

“We know the elves have already begun crossing the sea,” Serenna admitted. “And if they’ve reached your shores…”

Kaedryn’s brows pulled together, her pupils narrowing into slits. “Then the New Dawn is already veiled with darkness.” She exhaled heavily, shaking her head. “Asharyn is far from the western shores—hundreds of leagues inland. And yet…” Looking to the sky, her gaze grew distant. “If the Aelfyn have set foot upon these lands once more, then it may already be too late for us. Our numbers are few and our power is no more than a memory.”

“Perhaps there’s a way we can help each other,” Serenna ventured.

Lifting a hand, she hauled an orb of water from a pool, hovering it between them. With a slight twist of her wrist, she split it into a scattering of raindrops. Each bead glistened in her subtle display of control, reminding Kaedryn of these reborn powers—of what the druids had been waiting for.

Serenna studied her through the veil of floating beads, noting the way awe flared in her eyes. But wariness lingered just beneath it.

“Your ancestors…” Serenna began, unsure if her question would pry open wounds of the past or bring her closer to the truth. “Did the Aelfyn steal their magic, turn them into wraith—shadow walkers?”

Kaedryn shook her head. “No, my ancestors surrendered their starlight to aid a faction of Aelfyn who fought against those breaking the balance of the world.”

“But…how is it that they became druids?” Serenna pressed, casting the globe of the water back to the pool.

The garden’s stillness stretched like a thread, pulling tighter between them, broken only by the bubbling fountains.

“Not all of the Aelfyn were gluttons for power,” Kaedryn eventually answered, running one of the ribbons of her robe between her talons. “Some were found worthy to be scalebound.”

“Scalebound…” Serenna tested the word, letting its meaning unfurl. “That’s what you call druids?”

A mournful smile curved Kaedryn’s lips. “The scalebinding was a covenant. Something sacred, granted to those deemed deserving—human and Aelfyn alike. It marked them as favored by the dragons…what you now call druids.”

Serenna’s breath caught as the pieces of information aligned. “The dragons created the druids?”

Nodding, Kaedryn met her gaze. “The remnant is descended from those blessed by the line of Cinderax.”

Serenna’s pulse thundered in her ears, rattling against her bones. “Cinderax?”

She barely breathed as Kaedryn shifted, wings unfolding, scales erupting from every pore. Sunlight filtering through the leaves lit the leathery membrane of Kaedryn’s wings.

She straightened, pride ringing in every word. “Cinderax is the chained dragon this city guards.”