Journey onto the Storm (BOOK 2)

Chapter 3

YUVEN

"Bell chime, bell chime. If you open the door, you'll be dead by morn."

I think that's how the rhyme went.

He wrote down every name lost in the Derelict horde well into the dusk and into the dawn. Empty bottles of sprinkled ink sat at the corners of the desk, with some unable to hang onto the precarious edge of the table within the office. His fingertips ached more than the rest of him, but he refused to let any name fall into obscurity. Bell chimes rang out for the new morning as he finished the last edges of his parchment for archiving. He put the pen away to gaze down at the names. Every single one — not all of them Storm Wardens, but no less gave their lives to halt the advance of the endless horde.

No, that's now how the rhyme went... Bell chime, bell chime. If you open the door, you'll be dead come morn. Hands flat against the desk within one of the extra offices on the main landing, he listened while quiet footsteps wandered upstairs. Wind hushed through the window and into his feathers, and he twisted at the breeze. Fallholt retained its silence, where no Storm Wardens bustled about their day at the postings board outside, or to help around town. Across from the hall, the smithy, where the forge flickered its last embers. Yuven folded his hands, rolled the scroll and tied it with a ribbon. Bloody swill rolled along the back of his throat, but he ignored it to study the blackened edges of parchment.

You're going to leave all those people to die.

Someone knocked on the door in time with the bells of morn.

Scroll in his hands, he headed up to answer. On the other side of the door, one of the Trainees he chased down with his icy mirage of a Derelict. "Erm... Captain Traye?" they asked, nervous and small. "You said to tell you when Captain Ineha returns from Azahama lodge, and she's been back for a few bells." Their fingers tangled across their leather straps and they never looked him in the eye.

Their voice came out a dull thrum as they blathered on. Yuven pushed past them, and the thrum fell silent as he headed through the corridor and down to the head Captain's office, where Ineha waited for him and his report on the massacre within the Fields of Light, never forgotten. He hesitated, then twisted to the Trainee, and they snapped straighter and lifted their hand up to their chest with a small flash of fear. "I, um... I apologize for my tardiness in letting you know, Captain Traye!"

Any other time the fearful respect gave him the satisfaction he craved to cover the taste of endless blood in the back of his throat. Until it no longer did. Yuven glared at the young Trainee, full of an ideal and tales of golden bravery — who had yet to see the truth. Yuven scowled at them. "You are dismissed. Review the fundamentals for training before your Trainer has your hide." He held the scroll close to his chest and left the Trainee. I... forgot I instructed them to let me know when she returned... He brushed the edges of his feathers as he reached the painted door of golden swirls.

He huffed, and almost released himself into his spatial magick, its warm embrace of the sun and winter days. He stopped before he fell into its endless promise, and knocked on the door to break him out of its hold.

"You can come in, Captain Traye." Heaviness filled her voice on the other side, and he opened the door to enter the office.

Boxes which held Oath necklaces piled high on the bookshelf, where Ineha moved the books to the side, towered on the ground. Yuven stopped in front of the desk, where Captain Ineha held her brow on both hands. Dark shadows took its place underneath her brown eyes, and she considered him. "Will the carriages be ready to send back to Euros?" he asked.