Page 7

Daimon

Blades clanged against one another in constant opposition as Daimon walked through the camp. Though the fae had their Essence, Keir ordered everyone to learn how to wield weapons too. If one’s magic was drained in the middle of a fight, then they would need to know how to use a sword.

Zephyr flew above him, landing behind the cabin, over which a large cavern loomed. It only took them the first few nights of being bonded to realize they had to build their cabin where the wyverns could sleep close by. The creatures were fiercely protective, needing to be close to their Rider. But if Daimon were honest, he couldn’t stand being far from her for very long either.

All seven of the wyverns huddled beneath the rock cliff, sleeping on top of one another even though there was plenty of space for them to spread out. Hills and rocky cliffs surrounded the camp, resting on an outer valley before the larger slopes, on the outskirts of the Zenovia Mountains, so they used this as their base. It was a short enough flight from the palace that they could go back and forth easily while still maintaining patrols on the border.

Daimon walked into the fleet’s cabin, his shoulders slumped. It was times like these that he missed privacy. Why did it have to be his idea for his unit to share a cabin? At first, it was just a way for them to bond as a team, but then it turned into something more. Something stronger. And here they were years later, still sleeping under the same roof.

Well, slightly the same roof, since Willow and Aster built an entire new wing of the cabin to make more room. No one wanted to have a room next to those two; they’d be kept up all night.

Brielle was studying a map spread across a small wooden table. Aster was beside her, drawing with charcoal.

“Ranick and Elias just started their watch on the glade’s border,” Brielle said without looking up. “We’ll be lucky if they manage to stay out of trouble.”

Aster grunted his agreement, scribbling away on the yellowed parchment. His snow-colored hair was pulled back into a knot at the nape of his neck, strands loosened and falling into his face as he sketched.

Daimon plopped down on a worn, cushioned chair. He stared out an open window at the snowcapped mountains glinting in the clear evening. Heaviness sat against his chest, as it always did following a battle. Visions played in his mind: the cannons destroying their ships, his people being blown into pieces, spears piercing their chests before he could save them. Loss was inevitable, but he still replayed every detail he could remember.

“They had twice as many cursed weapons as they normally do,” Aster said, pulling Daimon back to the present. He stopped sketching to give Daimon a pointed look. “We did the best we could given the cannons, too.”

Daimon glanced back at him. Aster was one of the quieter of the flight, the only Undine among them and somehow drawn to the only Woodland. Within a week of the flight forming, Aster and Willow were attached at the hip. Not long after, they ventured back to the temple during the spring equinox to be bonded.

“They would’ve had to in order for them to break past the fleets,” Daimon said with a sigh. “They never should’ve been able to do that.”

“Something was different in the way they fought today,” Brielle mused. “Perhaps the curses they cast on the weapons are starting to do more damage to them than harm to us. Warping them somehow.”

The best-case scenario would be that their own weapons worked against them, but thinking about the ships that had been hit and the scattered bodies… It felt as if they did plenty of damage.

“We know Moros is willing to grapple at anything for power, no matter how corrupt the means to get there is,” Daimon said slowly. “I’ll send a messenger to the palace.”

Daimon spent the rest of the afternoon listening to Aster scribble on his paper and bouncing ideas of new rotations off Brielle. It slowly developed into a more relaxing evening, a reprieve from the weight of the attack.

But more than anything, it felt like the calm before the deadliest of storms.

The entry door rattled as it opened, and Keir stepped in. His eyes were red with lack of sleep and his brows were pinched tightly together. Daimon leaned forward in the chair, propping his elbows on his knees as Keir paced in front of them.

“The rebels attacked Nox Grove,” Keir rushed out. “This morning, right around the attack on the edge of Drogheda. Beta Fleet Two brought word that they were after the orbs.”

“They’ve never made a move so close to the palace.” Brielle gasped. “And at the same time as the other attack?”

Daimon stood and walked over to the frost-tinted animal pelt that was fitted over the shutter. The mountains looked peaceful from this distance, stoic and ancient. Half the time, he wondered if their presence helped keep the rebels out, or if it kept them in. The attacks happening simultaneously couldn’t have been a coincidence, and that worried Damion more than anything.

Keir blew out a deep breath. “I need you to investigate the grove while I go to the palace.”

Daimon had known this was coming, but the confirmation still made his pulse race. It had been so long since he had gone that close to the palace. Since he had been so close to Evelina.

“Then we better pack,” Daimon answered tightly and turned away from the shutter. He nodded to Brielle and added, “Care for a trip to the grove?”

Brielle smiled and placed a fist over her heart.

He looked to Aster next. “Keep the rest of the flight in line while we’re gone.”

Aster gave a curt nod.

They packed quickly, using sacks that could be secured onto their backs. Once they were done, they found Ren waiting for them outside, a bag over his shoulder. Ren was one of the Manor heirs, the responsibilities of which he often liked to avoid. Daimon knew Ren had been stationed on the western coast, not far from camp, but it still sent a ripple of shock through his body to see the heir standing in front of him.

Ren’s sandy-colored hair was lighter than Evelina’s, but his eyes were the same mixture of green and brown as hers. So much so that it took Daimon’s breath away. But his eyes weren’t filled with the same wonder.

Daimon silently shook himself, trying to get it together.

“It’s been a while,” he said roughly.

“Too long.” Ren looked just as uncomfortable, even regretful. “I’m on the western coast now.”

“I know.” Daimon still hung on to every whisper of Manor news, anxious for the day Evelina would find her future consort. But he sighed, resigned to go face it in person this time.

Daimon closed his eyes and pulled on the connection deep in his chest. He could feel her within him, always beside his heart no matter how far she was. The moment he tugged at their bond, he could hear her wings shifting from behind the cabin.

The sound of wings beating in the air came before she did. Ren shifted on his feet when he heard them. Anyone who wasn’t a Rider tended to be uncomfortable in the presence of wyverns. They weren’t trusting creatures—monsters of the night that gave their trust over to a singular person. Their Rider.

Ren shuffled his feet again, his eyes darting nervously to the sky. “I’ll see you when we get back?—”

“You’re riding with us,” Daimon interrupted. “There’s no use in traveling by ship when you can get back in a day.”

Ren opened his mouth to protest, but froze when a dark mass broke through the clouds. Zephyr flew over the cabin, her dark scales shimmering against the sun. For a moment, she hovered above them as she flapped her wings and sent dust flying into the air. Ren coughed and took a step back, careful not to be too close to Daimon when she landed. Slowly, she descended from the sky. Then, with a heavy thud, she slammed into the dirt, stretching her leathery wings out before tucking them into her sides.

Daimon smiled as the golden-eyed wyvern looked him over.

“I’m fine, Zephyr,” he assured her.

She huffed, unimpressed, the hot air from her nose sending a new wave of dust into the air.

“Mother hen,” he muttered, but he couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips. “The edge of Viridian was attacked, right near Nox Grove.” He gestured to Ren. “He’s coming with.”

“I’m not getting back on one of those.” Ren took a step back, his eyes wide and hands raised as he sputtered out another protest. “I can ride a horse?—”

“And you’ll get there long after we’re done if you do that,” Daimon said. “Come on.” In one swift movement, he mounted Zephyr and patted her neck. Zephyr turned her massive head to Ren, her blazing eyes set on him.

Ren swallowed thickly. “Fine,” he relented .

Daimon nodded, watching with faint amusement as Ren moved much slower than necessary to climb onto Zephyr’s back. Just as they got settled, another wyvern descended from the sky. Vero landed beside them, his eyes immediately focusing on Brielle. The beast stretched his head out toward her, a light clicking noise coming from the back of his throat. Brielle ran her hand along his jaw and rested her forehead against his.

“Ready for a ride?” she said to him, and Vero dutifully stretched out his wings and lowered himself to the ground so she could climb up.

They said their goodbyes to Aster, asking him to fill in the rest of the flight when they returned from patrol.

As Zephyr took to the skies, Daimon thought back on memories he tended to keep locked away. Memories that he preferred to hide in a box and toss into the Andronicus rather than revisit.

He hadn’t been to Viridian in years , and even the faces that resided there had faded in his memory. But it was still his home, his origin. Even if he didn’t have any blood family there anymore, it was still his. And a part of his heart would always be there.

Every flap of Zephyr’s wings took him closer to Nox Grove. Before he’d left, he’d never imagined growing so far apart from Evelina. Not when she was his best friend; not when seeing her smile became the reason he climbed out of bed each morning.

But that was before everything went to shit.