VISION ✔️ || The Keepers of Astraela #1

30.1 || Of Golden Acorns and Celestial Power

EMRYS

EMRYS HAD BEEN WOKEN up many ways over the years, but having his nipples twisted was brand new. The yelp he released was much sharper than any noise he'd made before; his eyes shot open to find red ones staring back with great amusement.

Mystia's laugh was quickly followed by her fingers ruffling his hair. "Wake up, you lazy bastard."

Weakness ravaged Emrys' bones, begging him to stay on the ground, where he must have blacked out after passing through the Barrier. If it hadn't been for Bobbi's screams lingering in his memory, he might have lain there forever, wishing to be among the stars he stared at.

Forcing himself to sit up, the ashen remains of his wings coated his palms. He dusted them off on his pants before cupping his head in his hands. A lingering headache built pressure deep within his skull.

"Earth is... different," said Mystia.

"You're telling me."

Emrys lifted his head. Mystia investigated the sky, crouched to watch the same stars with a curious gaze. She pinched blades of dry grass between her fingers until they crumbled, their remnants carried away in the nippy midnight wind. With day and night cycles reversed between worlds, and the inky sky looming overhead, it was as if they had never left their Corrupted home.

"This world is nothing but a shell." Mystia turned to him, brows knitted tightly together. "I know Earth was meant as a prison for exiled Others, but... my gods. This is worse than I thought. What causes a land teeming with life to feel so dead?"

"Humans."

Ones without magic, anyway. Instead of using their ability to connect with the world around them, or learn to respect its resources, they stole from the Earth and destroyed it for their own selfish needs.

Not that Emrys could blame them. Since losing most of his own magic, he saw how easily one could take advantage of resources for a taste of power. After a reborn lifetime of using magic for everything, forced restraint was the worst detox imaginable. He couldn't fathom what it must have been like for the Astraelans who had been sentenced to their new prison, helpless in a greedy world.

It was no wonder they had forced an uprising against the Blessed eons before. Jealousy was a beast far greater than any physical monster.

When Mystia's face softened to an understanding expression, Emrys realized he'd let his thoughts wander too long. Before she could attempt consoling him yet again, he stood. Or tried to. Even coming to his knees was a struggle. By the time Mystia offered a hand, he took it gratefully and allowed her to help him to his feet.

Thankfully, she changed the subject. "Where's the girl?"

"It looked like Bobbi was still in the cabin, but gods only know what that thing might've done to her."

"Can you track her?"

Emrys nodded. Even before closing his eyes, he could feel his Runestone's pulse in the distance, thrumming weakly enough to notice. The direction pointed toward the expanse of woods he'd buried Lard in hardly two weeks prior, not far from where Bobbi's cabin resided.

It would take a solid hour to travel by car, but with wings...

"Don't even think about it."

"We can argue about this all night," said Emrys, "but flying is our only option right now. We don't have time for a Sunday stroll."

"And how do you suggest doing this without exhausting yourself?"

He nodded to the satchel slung across her torso. Mystia gripped the leather strap with narrowed eyes.