Chapter 17 - Fiyr

The moors of Wynnd are silent except for the ghostly howl of the wind.

I shiver on the saddle of Blitz, feeling a chill despite the thick cloaks we all wear. It's almost too quiet.

"I don't like this," Samn mumbles beside me.

"Don't like what?" I say, more aggressively than necessary, probably, but fighting is better than total, eerie silence.

"It's—It's like the land is dead," he mutters, shivering as the wind blows his hair off his forehead. "Too quiet."

I nod, glancing around suspiciously.

Sir Cawle slows his horse, and we all do the same.

"Why are you stopping?" the queen asks, her tone sharp in the empty air.

"Checking…" he says, shutting his eyes and breathing in deeply.

"We don't need to," she replies, a faraway, uneasy look in her eyes. "There will be no trace of Shodawa on the Wynnder moors today. We must return to the castle immediately."

The two statements back to back make my stomach twist in fear. She's not saying that the reason that they're not on Wynnder moors is that they're in Thundrian forests?

Black-dressed knights, swarming the castle, slaughtering the court… it's strangely familiar. I recall my dream. The shadowy figures, the familiar screams… That couldn't have been the future. Only the monarch and the court healer ever have premonitions. Even I know that.

But it's hard to brush it off just like that. It felt... important. It felt like it was coming, a dark cloud on the horizon, the harbinger of something much worse, but how am I supposed to stop it, kilometres from the castle? What's the point of a premonition if there's nothing I can do about it?

"We have to ride faster," the queen suddenly snaps, staring up into the sky at the sun that is passing across far too quickly. "Let's go."

We spur our horses into a gallop, the wind whipping at our cloaks, but even now the queen's face is grim—just speeding up doesn't seem to have appeased her fears.

I have a sinking feeling in my stomach.

It was just a dream.

It had to be.

…

We make it to the border in record time, before the sun has even reached its peak in the sky, but the queen doesn't let up the breakneck pace. Sir Cawle still seems to be slipping into the fifth dimension every so often to check on the traces.

Graie and I have started anxiously copying him. At first, I found it soothing to feel the Shodawa traces getting weaker and fading as we head into the forest, but suddenly, a new, strong, recent Shodawa trace has struck the world around us.

"Shodawa!" Graie spits at the same time as I jerk out of the fifth dimension with a yelp.

"We have to get to the castle now!" the queen shouts to the group, and the collective pace increases further. Blitz pants underneath me but there's no time to waste. We're all dreading what lies ahead at the castle.

Fortunately, we don't have to wait until we arrive to find out what's going on.

Unfortunately, that's because we can hear the screams ringing out from a considerable distance away.

The faint sound of metal on metal clangs and the trees shaking after each explosion do nothing to soothe my nerves. I have a hard time not drawing blood as I dig my heels further into Blitz's sides.

"Faster! Faster!" the queen hisses, and the branches lash at us as we bolt through the forest.

It's both too soon and too late when we come to a halt beneath the colossal trees where the castle is located, and my breathing is hard and shallow as we dismount and begin to scramble up the ladder.

That is, Graie and I scramble up the ladder. Both Tigre Cawle and Samn opt to scale trees, and the queen simply plants her hands against the earth and erupts upwards in a shimmering spire of ice, shooting past us and up into the treetops.

The screams are getting louder.

The minute we're on top of the leaves, the battle raging is immediately obvious. It has spilled out of the castle and onto the pavilion.

Battle rages on all four sides; the throne room is a warzone with every life-force type I've ever seen being flung back and forth, explosions left, right, and centre. Summoned animals tackle elementalists who shoot bolts of earth, water, and more at anyone who gets too close. The alchemists' battle takes place on a smaller scale, but even so, I see tell-tale signs of people reeling backward, clutching their eyes, or doubling over in pain from an unseen attacker.

Icy fear locks around my stomach, but I bite my tongue and unsheathe Rusty.

Time to prove myself as a real knight.

I almost scream as a compact, dark-haired woman darts in front of me, her crooked teeth bared, but my instinct is to whip my sword into her side and it's a useful one.

She crumples, managing to dart aside again, but her hand flies over to cup her side. Did I cut her? Did it actually- But I don't have time to question it as she bares her teeth and shoots a hand forwards.

I leap backwards, avoiding the blow that's not coming.

Instead, an uncomfortable feeling crawls through my stomach and then locks down with a blaze of pain. I shout, grabbing my stomach and doubling over, still recoiling and trying to escape her.

She laughs and the blaze of pain ignites into anger and I yell, squeezing my hands shut and reaching for the light around me. I don't need fire, I just need light and heat and air and fuel. I won't be able to summon my own fire until I'm a knight, but still, somehow...

The Shodwes woman shrieks as her clothes catch on fire, and then it turns into a howl as her skin meets the heat.

The grip of pain loosens on my stomach as she wheels away, beginning to run.

I… I did it. I fought her off.

But I don't feel the victory of warmth for long before the truth of, Well, a hundred more to go, sets in.

The battle is still vicious on the pavilion, but I have a strange feeling in my stomach that urges me into the castle. Didn't get this far by ignoring my gut, I think, and plunge through the doors.

Not a moment too soon.

A short, broad man slips through the corridor that I know leads to the nursery, and my heart drops. Blayke Fouhte. The captain of the guard. Of Shodawa.

And I'm guessing he's not going in there to offer the children daisies.

My hands clench into fists and, drawn from the torches on the hallways, fire wraps them in a menacing glow. Didn't Samn say he had a particular fear of fire elementalists? He should remember what it's like to be afraid.

I charge forwards, but I'm interrupted by another knight cutting across my path. She's built similarly to the last one but her shaved head eliminates ripping her hair out as a viable tactic.

But I'm barely even thinking about tactics as I race towards her, flaming fist pulled back.

"Out of my way!" I snarl, trying to send it into her nose and finding only smoke in my path.

Elementalist.

The observation is barely through my head before a blow to the back of my head sends me reeling forwards. As I overbalance, I feel a strange flicker of familiarity from over three years ago go through my limbs.

I let myself slide to the floor in a practiced drop.

A throaty chuckle is elicited from the woman and I wait for the shling of metal as her true-steel sword is unsheathed, then plant both hands on the floor and spin, gaining momentum to knock her legs out from under her.

She snarls with anger as she falls sideways, trying lunge while off-balance, but she's already on the ground and I don't have time, I have to get to the nursery.

"The nursery!" I yell, trying to catch the attention of some knight, any knight, someone who can help. "Blayke Fouhte's in the nursery!"

But when I skid into the entrance of the wing, there's no sign of the broad, squat man, only Yllowei Fennen standing in the centre of the room with a long, glinting sword drawn.

I breathe a sigh of relief when I see that the kids and their mothers have mostly been herded into the safe room and Blayke Fouhte appears to be gone. The ex-healer gives me a tiny nod.

I hurry back out into the throne room, drawing fire from the torches to wrap my hands, but it looks like the court has things mostly under control now. I watch as Sir Strommer, a centralized blizzard seeming to whip around him, lash a Shodawes knight missing a hand over and over again with Whitestorm, then ice, then snow, then wind, then his sword again.

Before I know it, all of Shodawa has been chased from the throne room, and then off the pavilion, and then hopefully, all the way out of the kingdom.

It's not until the adrenaline of the battle leaves me that I see the damage they've left in their wake.

"Sir Hartef!" It's Graie, a cracking yell bursting out of him as he sprints to the side of the knight that trains him. That trained him.

The blond knight is flat on his back on the stones, his usually-warm brown eyes flat and empty. His thick blond mane is splayed around him like a sleeping princess in the storybooks from the time of the maiorum. Scarlet blood pools around his head, a line of red trailing from his opened lips down his cheek and vanishing into his stained beard.

"No…" I don't even realize I said it until I feel tears sting my eyes. Switching into the Trace, almost instinctively, I can no longer feel the sunny heat of Sir Hartef's life-force.

I stumble over and drop to knees, staring at the slack body, barely able to understand what I'm looking at. How could so much life just… stop?

I hear soft footsteps behind me and turn to see Frostialla Fuor holding the frail body of an old woman in her arms.

"The children are safe, thanks to Lady Fennen," she declares, her voice impressively steady. "But Lady Rozel Tali had passed away. As has Sir Liyon Hartef."

Cries rise from court that has begun to congregate in the throne room.

This is… what I saw…

I wince as the memory of the dark, dream warriors begins to blend with the memories of the attack from Shodawa. Destruction. Death. And now Sir Hartef is gone.

"Sir Hartef." I can barely hear Queen Bluelianna's voice, but when I turn to look, I see that she's gone ghostly pale as she stares down at the body, her eyes unfocused. She looks shell-shocked.

It's unsettling, to see the least. She has always seemed sure of herself and in control and unshakable, but there's vulnerability and fear in her eyes, and it scares me.

"He is on his way to the Starlaxi." It's Spottalia Lief, drawing to Queen Bluelianna's side and resting a hand on her shoulder.

It takes us all by surprise when Queen Bluelianna's hand flies up to push off the healer's hand. She tears her gaze from Liyon's body and casts it over the court.

"Thundria requires a new captain of the guard." The queen's voice shakes hard, but she forges onwards, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. "I say these words before the body of Liyon Hartef that he may hear and approve of my choice. The new captain of the guard of the kingdom of Thundria will be Sir Tigre Cawle."

I think the whole court knew this would be her choice. It seemed almost inevitable.

The knight's face betrays nothing, but there's a glint in amber eyes as he kneels before the queen. She draws Winter's Wrath and rests it on his shoulder.

"Rise, Sir Cawle, captain of Thundria's guard."

A flicker of movement in the corner of my eye catches my attention, and I turn to see Samn as he crosses his arms with the beginning of a scowl on his face. What's he so angry about?

But as I turn, his pale gaze flicks to mine and his face changes in one of deep thought. I turn away again and look back at where Rozel Tali is laid next to Sir Hartef. He's lost none of his imposing presence in death, somehow. I feel like we should all be kneeling.

"Prepare for the funerals," the queen orders, her voice cracking, then turns to walk to her room behind the throne. She pauses and glances back at Liyon, and so softly that I don't think I'm meant to hear it at all… "I don't know what the court will do without you, Liyon."

The throne room is somber and dark as half the court filters into the healer's wing to receive treatment and the other half head to their rooms.

"Let's get to the healer's wing," Graie mumbles beside me, backing away from the knight's body with a sickened expression.

"I'm fine—" I start, but at the look in his eyes, I stop myself again. "Alright. Some Shodawes knight had some kind of sickness life-force or something. Felt like I'd eaten rotten waste."

Graie makes a face that seems like it's supposed to be sympathetic, but he's so shaken it just looks unhappy. He stretches out his forearms and I see ragged scratches all over them. "Took a couple blows myself. Some fucker with stoat force; vicious little beasts."

I shudder at the thought and we limp to the healer's wing together.

Graie's in worse shape than I am, so I wait while he crumples into one of the beds closest to Spottalia's desk and waits there while she takes care of those in the most dire conditions.

As I sit in on a bench lining the entrance area, movement on the pavilion catches my attention. That's… Samn, and Ravne too… What are they doing? Does this have something to do with what he was so angry about earlier?

I squint through the frosted glass, but I can't see their expressions. Ravne gesticulates wildly and Samn suddenly recoils in shock? Anger? Outrage? I can't tell.

The interaction confuses me. What is Ravne telling him that's so shocking? Or are they arguing about something? And what did this have to do with Sir Cawle being appointed captain of the guard?

If anything, I'm relieved that he's the captain now.

Sure, he snaps a lot and he's a cranky curmudgeon, but if I knew I'd be meeting him in battle I'd shit myself. I don't he's scared of a damn thing, and it's incredible. Right now, Thundria needs that kind of fearlessness. Our kingdom's caught in a terrifying time and Sir Cawle can lead us out of it. I have faith.

Samn and Ravne have disappeared from the window. A couple tense moments later, the door to the healer's wing swings open yet again and in steps Ravne, looking pale and shaken.

I fight off the urge to grab him and demand to know what he and Samn were colluding about. Instead, I examine him. What was it? What were you telling him? What's wrong? He doesn't look like much of anything but scared. Scared as the Blacklands.

He pauses in the entrance and a taller figure appears behind him. Samn again! What's going on?

"I think you should say something," Samn hisses in his ear.

Ravne spins away from him, crossing his hands over his chest defensively. "It won't help! I can't say anything, don't you understand?"

Samn opens his mouth, olive eyes glinting with fire, but Ravne cuts him off, shaking his head. "No. No. Conversation over."

Samn bites his lip and shrugs, his hands going to his hips. "Fine. But if this comes up again, or if it's worse than you've let on, swear to the Starlaxi, I'm going straight to Queen Bluelianna."

Jerk isn't even hurt, I think irritably as Samn whips around and stomps out. So what in the Starlaxi's name was that about?! 'If it comes up again'? Did Ravne… do something? Right after the battle, so there must have been something I missed. Did it have to do with Shodawa? By it 'coming up again', he couldn't mean another battle, could he? Or is this about Sir Cawle being appointed captain?

My head hurts just trying to sort it out. I glance at Ravne, who's looking sicker by the second, but if Samn couldn't get anything out of him, I doubt I will.

Graie returns, his forearm bandaged tightly and holding a polished wooden staff. "Gotta use a cane, I'm an elder," he informs me, though the bright and upbeat tone falls flat. His voice is rough and I know he's been holding back tears for a while now.

I force a laugh anyways and help him out of the wing back into the throne room.

The bodies are mounted on marble slabs, their limbs arranged so they look like they just fell asleep with their arms perfectly crossed over their bodies.

"We're going to hold vigil," Graie informs me shakily, kneeling in front of the slab. I copy him, but when he doesn't move, I glance at him, confused. "For the whole night."

I try to contain my shock. How are we expected to stay here the whole night? I can already feel the exhaustion begin to drag at my limbs. I need to go to my bed or I'm going to pass out right here.

Ravne, Samn, Duss, and many other members of the court join us to kneel by their bodies.

There wasn't much about vigils in my studies; I'm racking my brain, and I do remember something about holding vigil during the night, but I thought it was new knights that had to do it, and I didn't realize it was actually the whole night.

Sir Cawle comes up next to Sir Hartef's body, murmurs something in Old Thundrian and I recognize it as a prayer for speedy travel to the Starlaxi. He brushes a hand over the other knight's forehead, pushing back a single golden lock in a surprisingly tender motion, then with a glance at Ravne, takes a knee next to all of us.

We're lucky to have him, I think gratefully, then with a heavy sigh, It's going to be a long night.

Thanks for reading chapter 17! Please follow and favourite this story and leave me a review with what you think!

~Akila