32.

  Faelwen

  The encampment around the Temple of Herdus rose from the grey, rain-soaked earth. It was a dreary day. Clouds spilling cold sheets of rain now and then, that clung to our skin and hair. Yet the ocean wind was warm, almost tender as it wrapped itself around us like an old friend.

  It was smaller than I’d imagined. Only a few hundred Ethilorians moved through the honey-coloured tents, their voices carrying through the air in a lively hum: the clatter of smithing, the low laughter of cooks around steaming pots, horses snorting as stable hands brushed their manes. It was lively. The scent of hot meals, forged metal and salt from the restless sea tangled in the wind.

  At the heart of the camp, a large orange command tent stood like an ember, the Ethilorian flag snapping sharply beside it. Around the Temple, honey coloured tents curved into a half-moon formation, leaving the ancient stone front of the Temple of Herdus exposed.

  My gaze drifted to the small house near the treeline. The place where I had first seen Ash step from the shadow of the woods like a predator stalking it’s prey. The memory pulled a shy smile to my lips.

  I truly believed he might hand me to the Fiend. And maybe… he believed it too.

  My fingers found his and I gave his hand a squeeze. He looked down, that familiar softness melting the icy look in his eyes, and brought my hand to his lips. The kiss was brief, reverent and full of love.

  We were guided toward the central tent. Two knights in silver-plated armour stood like carved guardians beside the entrance, their expressions guarded. Ivor exchanged a few sharp phrases in his own tongue. The words sounded strange in my ears. Far from the common tongue we used and closer to the Elvish tongue I’d learned over the past months.

  The guards stepped aside.

  Inside, the tent breathed with dim lanternlight and practical order. A large table dominated the centre, a map covered with coloured pins marking the front lines. A curtain separated the sleeping quarters, while richly woven blankets softened the floor and cast warm shades over the otherwise sober setting.

  “Welcome. I’m officer Halvar Ilaris. Ivor tells me you carry stones.”

  The voice thundered before I could fully step inside. I froze beneath the weight of two sharp brown eyes.

  Eyes belonging to a man dressed for war. His face bore an old burn that carved through hairline and jaw, leaving his features uneven but no less commanding. He was broad shouldered, wearing only chainmail underneath a leather jacket. He leaned over the map, one hand braced against the table, the other beckoning us forward with a stern, impatient curl of his fingers.

  “Show me.”

  Artemis nudged my leg. I drew strength from that small gesture, then stepped forward and placed the five runestones on the table. Their carved sigils shimmered faintly, breathing with restrained magic.

  “Good.” Halvar barely spared them a second glance before issuing an order. “Fetch mages.”

  We were offered seats while the soldier hurriedly left the tent.

  A servant brought drinks and fish on toast, which I declined. A sudden nausea tightening my stomach. I swallowed the upcoming bile and pushed the fish away from me. The smell causing me to nearly gag. Ash and Spook sat close, flanking me like the steadfast shadows. Ash eyeing me warily about my sudden reaction to the food. I gave him a hesitant smile. Artemis lingered near the entrance.

  “Dog can wait outside,” Halvar said with a dismissive flick of his fingers, igniting a fire in me.

  “Artemis is no dog,” I answered terse. “And he stays.”

  Halvar’s glare cut toward me, clearly not used to being disobeyed. Then his focus snapped to Artemis when the wolf rumbled low in his chest. His eyes growing big. A flicker of unease cracked through the officer’s hardened exterior.

  “He… uses magic,” Halvar murmured unsure.

  “Yes,” Ash said quietly, “and he knows more of the stones than any of us. He stays.”

  Halvar pressed his lips into a thin line but did not argue. Clearly not happy with a ‘magical wolf’ in the room.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  Spook leaned in.

  “What’s the current state of the war?” he asked, trying to move the conversation forward.

  Halvar exhaled, a long and tired breath, and gestured to the map. Black pins crawled in from the east and south like a spreading rot. Blue and green held the western gate of Westray, the very gate I had once fled through to escape the Hunters. Orange pins circled the Temple.

  “Fiend’s army thousands strong,” he said in his broken common. “We hold the side against drakes and hags. Came with five hundred. Now… only four hundred left. High King says no help from Primordial Lands. Elves fight their own battle against Fiend’s legion.”

  The words struck like a stone dropped into a still lake. One by one, their ripples expanded inside me. I heard Spook curse softly. Ash’s jaw tightened. Even Artemis stopped breathing for a heartbeat.

  “How many?” Ash asked. “Truly?”

  Ivor answered, his voice low. “Together with elven army of Lord Reyzana is eight thousand. We are four hundred. Fiend’s army… very big. Tens of thousands.”

  Silence fell. The months of chaos the Fiend had unleashed had diminished the armies of the Ancestral Region. Like water scraping away rock. Once ten thousand strong. And now…

  Halvar continued, each word another blow: “Veridia has fallen. Arcanis holds front. Ethilor too. No reinforcements possible.”

  Spook swallowed hard. I couldn’t imagine the conflicting emotions he must’ve felt right there and then.

  “You are only hope,” Ivor said, pointing to the stones.

  With a nod I gathered the stones.

  “Then we must prepare,” I said.

  ? ? ?

  When we finally stepped out of the tent, the world felt colder. Smaller. More fragile.

  “I didn’t know,” I whispered. “I didn’t know his reach stretched this far.”

  Artemis brushed against my hip. Where darkness deepens, light waits to be kindled, his voice murmured through the bond.

  I scratched him behind the ears.

  “Wise words, buddy.”

  Spook rocked uneasily on his heels. “So what now?”

  “We wait for the magi,” Ash said. “And then…”

  “We fight,” I finished. He met my eyes. Truly met them. and for a moment the whole world narrowed to the space between us. Bound not by fate, but by scars, choices, and the stubborn refusal to fall apart. I would not lose him. Nor Spook or Artemis. Not any of them. I would scorch the world before letting the Fiend claim them. The look Ash and Spook gave me told me they felt the same way.

  Preparations fractured us into separate paths. Spook to the smithy, Ash into his tomes, Artemis slipping into the woods to hunt, and I…

  I wandered.

  I couldn’t focus. My thoughts spiralling through a dozen versions of the coming battle, none ending well. My feet carried me toward the Temple’s front steps before I realized where I was.

  Six months ago I had walked out of these doors a trembling shadow of myself. Then… like a whisper from the treeline… he appeared.

  “What is a beautiful young lady like you doing here?”

  Ash’s voice rose behind me. I gasped; he laughed under his breath, his hand brushing the small of my back.

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” he murmured, his voice tender. “This is where we met.”

  My heartbeat slowed as my body realized I wasn’t in danger.

  “It is.” My smile bloomed slowly.

  “And where your eyes first caught me,” he said, leaning close enough that his breath warmed my temple.

  “Where I realized your heart had snared mine in a way I didn’t believe was possible. That was the moment I knew I couldn’t just hand you over.”

  Warmth unfurled inside me like a sunrise.

  “I always wondered why you wanted to turn me in at all,” I whispered.

  He kissed me slowly, sending little shockwaves through my body. His hand settled at the back of my neck as he released my lips and pressed his forehead against mine.

  “I thought you’d be my way out of the contract,” he admitted. “But now…”

  He hesitated.

  “Tell me,” I urged feeling the tension increase in the air.

  “Now I don’t want to look down on your lifeless body. I can’t bear that. Can’t bear never seeing those little creases beside your eyes when you laugh. Your warmth. Your voice. Your lips.” His breath hitched. “I chose to protect you back then. To stay.”

  I let out a breathy laugh. “My feelings had a rough start to be honest, but now I feel the same way.”

  He arched a cocky brow.

  “I thought you were smitten on sight.” A playful smile appearing on his face.

  “Yes and no.” I nudged him playfully. “I didn’t trust you. But slowly… I saw your heart. The moment you saved me from the Fiend. That’s when I knew. And then the bond formed.”

  “That bond doesn’t mean love,” he whispered, uncertainty creeping in.

  “I know,” I said. “But I do love you. And if I could go back in time, I’d fall in love all over again.”

  His mouth found mine. This kiss was deeper, hungrier, surrendering. His tongue brushed my lower lip, asking; I parted for him, and the groan he breathed into me vibrated through every part of my soul.

  When he finally pulled back, leaving me wanting more, he cupped my cheek.

  “If I go before you…”

  “Don’t say that,” I interrupted him.

  “Listen to me, Wen,” his grip tightened ever so slightly to make me stop talking. “If I go before you… I’ll wait at the edge of oblivion until our souls meet again.”

  “You will…” I started but he interrupted me.

  “We need to speak of it, darling. I know you don’t want to think about it. But I want you to know…” His voice broke, just a little. “If I fall, I want you to live and find love again, because I know you have so much love to give still.”

  “I don’t want you to…” I swallowed forcing the tears away, knowing he was right. We had to talk about this, because we never did in all the moments we danced with death.

  “You’ll always have a part of my heart,” I whispered.

  “And you mine. But tell me… wouldn’t you want me to live as well if you fell first?”

  My throat tightened. “Of course I would.”

  “There,” he murmured, thumb brushing a tear, that I couldn’t hold back, from my cheek.

  “I don’t want to think it’s the end,” I said.

  “It isn’t. Just… precaution. I don’t want you drowning in grief if I’m gone. You’ve been through so much already. You deserve a happy ending.”

  “So do you!”

  “We will survive, darling,” he whispered leaning his head on top of mine. Silence fell between us as we held each other in the stillness before the storm.

  “You think it’s still the same? The house you took me to, after you found me here, I mean,” I asked, breaking the momentarily silence.

  “Let’s find out,” he said, and carried me, laughing.