CORRUPTED FILE [Lumina Chronicles Past Drafts]

Level Thirty-Five

[KINDLE'S PoV]

I had another nightmare.

This time instead of the ruins of Ignus or the horrors of the battlefield, it was Lydia. She sat high atop a throne made of the corpses of everyone I love and painted her lips crimson with their blood. She kissed me, and my lips wore it too.

I woke shivering and nauseous. Air, that's what I needed. My feet moved on their own, following the familiar path from my room to the roof, though I regretted it when I opened the door and was met with a flurry of fresh snow. Cold, too cold. But it woke me up, jolted me back to reality. I sent heat and fire down through my feet, melting the thin dusting of snow on the stones.

The morning sunlight was what really caught me off guard. Well, at least I wouldn't have to force myself back to sleep. I sat on the wall and listened to the call of the morning birds, trying unsuccessfully to ignore the swelling hope in my chest that one of them might be a raven. Trying unsuccessfully to ignore how big, empty, and quiet the roof felt without Blondie there to bother me.

She didn't have to write to me personally if she didn't want to. I'd take a report on the happenings of the palace, an inquiry of Faye's wellbeing— by Naresharakh, I'd even accept an announcement of how deeply she'd fallen in love with Prince Casimir if it meant hearing from her.

Nearly two weeks had passed since her departure for Realta. Rhi returned without a scratch, happy to report that she'd "delivered the human with no struggle," and all was well and good. but then day after day passed without an update, without a word. Silence.

So, my worries branched in two distinct paths. The first, someone had figured out she was a spy, confiscated the blood vial, and locked her away in a dungeon somewhere. The other, she realized she was more comfortable among her own kind, gave up on the Abandoned Order entirely, and had settled into a life of luxury at the palace.

Obviously, I couldn't voice these concerns to Faye. She had enough to fret over. And seeing as Carlyle decided he would be of more use in Lumina, I didn't even have him to commiserate with. In a moment of desperation, when the ten-day mark hit and I still hadn't received even a single letter, I'd foolishly mentioned my worries to Nar.

"Ooh," she'd mused as if I'd asked her opinion on dinner options. "My gold's on dungeon. I bet she screwed up minute-one and has been living off stale bread for the past week and a half."

"Thanks."

She tossed her hands up in apology, though the glint of amusement never left her eyes. "Hey, I'm nothing if not consistent."

Lesson learned—suffer in silence, at least where a particular human is concerned.

Once the nightmare was firmly pushed to the back of my mind and the nausea subsided, I made my way back inside and toward the kitchen. I had about an hour or so until the others would rise and join me, and seeing as Lydia was still away in Nox for the Festival of the Mother's Ascent, there was no harm in taking the time to bake something.

Or not. I opened cabinet after cabinet to find only dust and a lonely tin of tea leaves. "Well," I muttered. Though I knew we were tight on resources as of late, I hadn't realized how much. Taking down the tin, I set to boiling some water.

Faye ambled into the room as I pulled the pot from the hearth minutes later, yawning broadly. "Should I pour another cup?" I asked.

She combed her fingers through her tangle of hair and nodded as she took a seat at the table. "No tea leaves though, please, just the hot water."

She accepted the cup with a murmur of thanks and sleepily dug into the little pouch she'd sewn into the bodice of her dress, procuring a sugar-cube-sized block of sea salt. She stirred the salt into the water, then inhaled the steam with a satisfied sigh before taking a gulp.