The Broken Sky

Chapter 7: A Shadow's Grasp

Ramiel's wings beat steadily, though the strain of constant flight was beginning to take its toll. Her muscles ached, and her usually graceful movements had grown sluggish, but she pushed on, driven by the urgency that had kept her airborne for nearly a week. The journey had been grueling—flying day and night, with only brief stops to hunt, eat, and rest. But now, at last, she had reached her destination.

The Illyrian war camp stretched out before her, nestled within the towering mountains that loomed like ancient sentinels over the land. The air here was thick with wild magic, its chaotic energy swirling around her, tingling her wings. Ramiel felt a strange thrill as the magic curled around her, as if the land itself was curious about the new presence that had entered its domain.

She welcomed the sensation, intrigued by the unpredictable power that seemed to inhabit every stone, every tree, every breath of wind. But she knew she had no time to linger. She had to find her mother before the older fae realized what Ramiel had done.

Circling above the camp, Ramiel scanned the cottages below, looking for any sign of her mother. The larger cottages, with their stone walls and thatched roofs, looked much the same from above, but Ramiel knew her mother would have chosen a place slightly removed from the noise and chaos of the camp. With that in mind, she glided down toward a cluster of trees on the outskirts of the settlement, landing softly in a clearing hidden from the main paths.

Her wings trembled with exhaustion as she folded them against her back. For a moment, she leaned against the rough bark of a tree, catching her breath. She had never flown so far or so long before, and the journey had pushed her to her limits. But she couldn't afford to rest, not yet.

Drawing on the ancient techniques she had learned from her secret readings, Ramiel concealed herself, wrapping the shadows around her like a cloak. It was an art she had only recently mastered, and it required intense concentration, but she managed to meld with the darkness that the thick forest provided. Satisfied that she was hidden, she began moving quietly from cottage to cottage, peeking through windows in search of her mother.

It didn't take long for her to find the right one. In one of the smaller cottages, she saw her mother standing in the kitchen, stirring a pot over the fire. The sight of her mother, so calm and domestic in the midst of such a harsh environment, filled Ramiel with a wave of relief. But that relief was short-lived.

Two boys sat at the kitchen table, neither of them Rhysand.

Ramiel frowned, confusion swirling in her mind. Who were they? And where was Rhysand? She couldn't ask, not directly, and so she decided to slip inside, hoping to find some clue that would lead her to her brother.

She found an unlocked window on the side of the cottage and carefully slid it open, slipping into what appeared to be a bedroom. The room was small, with two beds—one neatly made, the other a mess of blankets and pillows. Ramiel's heart clenched as she realized this must be where Rhysand had been staying. The neat bed must belong to the older boy at the table; the messy one, undoubtedly, was Rhysand's.

Still concealed, she crept toward the door that led to the main room. From her vantage point, she could see the two boys at the table, their faces unfamiliar but their postures relaxed as they ate. Her mother's shadow stretched long across the floor, the silhouette of her movements calm and measured.

Ramiel was about to step forward when something cold and dark wrapped around her ankle. She gasped, her concealment faltering as she looked down in shock. A shadowy hand, formed from the very darkness she had used to hide herself, was gripping her leg tightly. She hadn't noticed her own shadow stretching, betraying her presence to the wild magic that thrived in this land.

Panic surged through her, and before she could stop herself, Ramiel let out a scream. The sound shattered the silence of the cottage, and in that instant, the concealment spell broke entirely, leaving her standing, fully visible, in the hallway.

The two boys jumped up from the table, their eyes wide with surprise and alarm. But it was her mother's reaction that Ramiel feared most.

Her mother rushed into the hallway, her eyes widening as she took in the sight of her daughter, standing in the middle of an Illyrian war camp, exhausted and out of breath, her wings drooping with fatigue.

"Ramiel?" Her mother's voice was a mix of disbelief, fear, and anger. "What in the name of the Mother are you doing here?"

Ramiel opened her mouth to explain, but the words stuck in her throat. She had imagined this moment so many times during her journey, rehearsed exactly what she would say to justify her actions. But now, standing before her mother, she found herself overwhelmed by the reality of her situation. She had disobeyed every rule, defied every expectation, and put herself in unimaginable danger—all to protect her brother.

And now, she had to convince her mother that it had been worth it.