The Shadows of Starlight

Chapter Seven

Sorry it's been a while, but here's two chapters! I will be working on one more chapter to post (Chapter 9, Val's POV) before I return to working on TBOD's rewrite so I can publish it :)
Thank you for reading!

Kye

I wake up in a heap of ashes. The forest that surrounds me is dark and cold, absent of the warmth of the fire I walked into. I remember how it felt to burn, and my heart twists as I recall the heat, so intense, blistering my skin—my fingers fumble at my side, panic tearing through me; I let out a breath of relief when I feel the cool, leathery hilt of Val's dagger, still tucked in my belt.

So my clothes are intact; the flames left me unscathed, even though I know Ignus has the power to burn me, like he did in the castle in Trivette. But that was a punishment. What just happened was something he wanted. He wants to die, and he wants me to be his heir. I gave him what he wanted, not out of piety, but because I wanted it too.

Isn't that what all of us want? Zyair might say. To become Gods? To become so great that even death cannot touch us?

But I don't want greatness; I want Val. I want her to be safe.

And she's not. She's nowhere near safe. You're a fucking failure. You were right there, right at the castle; you watched her wedding, and you couldn't do anything to save her. How can you claim to love her if you can't save her? How can you promise to fight for her when she needs you and you aren't there?

I rise to my feet, dusting the ashes off of my dark tunic, trying to ignore the way my hand shakes and my eyes burn with unshed tears, the way I want to fall back down to my knees and tear out my own hair. I do love her, and I will save her, no matter what it takes. I'll become a God to do so; nothing and nobody will be able to stop me then.

My surroundings are indistinguishable, a mixture of bare and coniferous trees, bushes and brambles, patches of dead leaves and yellowed grass smattered across the ground. I have no idea how to get back to Callan's farm.

Deciding it's less risky to use my fire than it is to aimlessly wander around occupied territory, I let a dim flame ignite in my palm so I can examine the ruins of the Rurikan scouting group's camp more closely. I faintly remember stepping over the bedrolls and supply bags when entering the tiny camp; the fire spread to engulf the items, but I can still make out their charred lumps in the ashes. I decide to head back in that direction.

It only takes a few minutes of walking for the woods to thin around me; I can vaguely make out the dark structure of the barn looming in the distance. The air seeps with a chill; I should give Quinn and Lucine my quilt once I get back inside, for they certainly need it more than I do. A breeze whispers through the trees, rustling my hair. I raise my hand to brush the locks out of my face only to feel that the strands are crusted with dry blood. I resolve to wash myself off first thing in the morning; maybe then I'll be able to think more clearly and devise a plan for everything.

I'm a few steps away from emerging from the trees, but I stop in my tracks when I hear a twig snap. The weight of another presence nearby cascades over me; my hand drifts towards my dagger as I scan the darkness. Anyone could be hiding among the trees, but based on the encounter I had a few nights ago...

"Occisor?" My voice echoes through the forest; I tighten my grip on my knife when there's no response. Silence shrouds the air as I prepare myself for a fight.

Then a familiar voice sounds from my left. "Kye?"

Callan strides out of the brush and towards me; I let go of my blade, all of my tension seeping away. "What in the Gods' names are you doing out here?" the older man demands, ax in hand. "Icylus be damned, I thought you were a Rurikan!"