Chapter 2
Chapter
Two
We returned to the Ascension Grounds with the solemn air of warriors who had stared death in the face and carried one of their own to ash. No one joked. No one whispered. Even Jax was quiet, his usual banter muted beneath the burden we all carried.
Major Kaler barked out instructions for combat drills, his voice like steel on stone. “Form pairs. Spar in rotation. If I see any of you holding back, you’ll repeat the entire circuit blindfolded.”
Thrall Squad moved into position, muscles aching, spirits brittle.
Zander stood off to the side, arms folded across his chest, watching us with that cool, calculated expression I’d come to know far too well.
He only addressed me when giving instructions, short, precise commands.
No comments. No flickers of annoyance or smug remarks.
Just the clipped edge of professionalism.
And Remy?
He stood near the Warborn squad, his green and silver armband marking his station. But he watched me the entire time. Every movement I made, every blow I delivered, his eyes followed like they belonged to the past, and he couldn’t quite let go of it.
I ignored him.
Kaelith’s presence pulsed quietly in the back of my mind, and I leaned into it, letting her weight anchor me through every dodge and strike. I let the rhythm of combat drown out everything else.
By the time dusk painted the sky in streaks of gold and ash, we were dismissed. The air was thick with exhaustion and sweat as we filed into the dining hall.
It was unusually quiet.
No laughter. No gossip. Even the nobles kept their voices down. And Perin, gods help me, even Perin didn’t so much as glance my way. His usual sneer was nowhere to be found.
A rider’s death had changed something in all of us.
We might have magic now. Dragons. Strength we’d never dreamed of.
But we weren’t invincible.
Not to the Blood Fae.
The loss of Eilvin made it real.
We finished our meals in near silence and returned to our barracks early. No one spoke as we filed in. Boots were removed. Armor hung. Our beds climbed into like graves.
But Cordelle excused himself without explanation, slipping into the hall with a journal clutched tight beneath his arm.
He returned nearly a half hour later, his pale-blue eyes practically glowing with excitement. He didn’t say a word to the others, just made a beeline for my bunk and dropped down beside me, his weight shifting the mattress.
He looked like he might explode.
“What is it?” I asked, studying his flushed cheeks and barely-contained grin.
Cordelle’s eyes sparkled as he leaned in, lowering his voice like we were plotting a heist instead of talking about ancient lore in the middle of our barracks. He pulled a small satchel from under his cloak and drew out two leather-bound books, their covers old and cracked with age.
“My father just sent these,” he whispered, glancing around as if afraid someone might try to snatch them away. “They were kept in the Lorekeeper’s archives, restricted texts. He slipped them out under the pretense of cataloging damaged volumes.”
I arched a brow. “Are they damaged?”
Cordelle grinned. “Only enough to pass inspection.”
He opened one of the books, the pages brittle and yellowed, and tapped a section with scribbled annotations in the margins.
“I think the king is searching for the Fae Sanctuary.”
My breath caught. “The Light Fae still exist?”
Cordelle hesitated. “According to ancient lore, yes. The account was written six hundred years ago, so there’s no way to be sure if they’ve survived. But…” He looked up, the fire in his eyes unshakable. “I believe the king is looking for a weapon.”
Across the room, Riven shifted from her bunk, brows furrowed. “What kind of weapon?”
“I’m not sure yet,” Cordelle admitted. “I’m hoping these new texts will help. The original theory said the Light Fae had magic untouched by blood or shadow. Pure power. Sacred. Something that could not be corrupted.”
Jax stood from where he’d been polishing his armor and crossed the room, curiosity painted across his face. “You’re talking about the sanctuary like it’s real. I thought it was just another bedtime story, something to scare the nobles who thought they could take everything.”
“It might’ve been,” Cordelle said. “But what if it wasn’t?”
Ferrula, who rarely commented, sat up straighter. “If the Light Fae had magic that couldn’t be corrupted, then maybe they had a weapon that could undo corruption. Cleanse it.”
“Like burning out the blood-fueled madness,” Naia said, stepping closer. “Or purging the twisted fae who turned on their own.”
“Or maybe something worse,” Tae added from his bunk. “A weapon to seal magic away. Imagine what that could do if it fell into the wrong hands.”
The room went quiet at that.
Because we all knew whose hands it would fall into, if the king was really the one hunting it.
“What if the king’s not trying to destroy the Blood Fae,” I said slowly, the thought forming like ice in my chest. “What if he wants to become something more than human?”
No one answered.
They didn’t have to.
I looked at Cordelle, the question twisting in my gut. “These texts… could they tell us where the sanctuary is?”
“Maybe,” he said. “If we can find enough cross-references, trace the places mentioned… but it’s a long shot.”
My gaze drifted to the wall, to the shadow beyond the stone.
The prisoner.
The one locked beneath the castle since before most of the realm had drawn breath.
“We can’t put this off any longer.” I stood, the words hard and final in the still air. “We need to talk to the prisoner.”
I met each of their eyes, one by one. “If he’s fae, he may have the answers we need.”
And if he didn’t?
Then we were already too far down the path to turn back.
The barracks remained dim but still alive with restless energy. Cordelle had tucked one of the texts back into his satchel, and Riven had settled into her bunk obviously ready to call it a night. I stood at the center of our space, the air thick with everything unspoken.
“I need to tell you something,” I said quietly.
Everyone looked up, Jax, Tae, Ferrula, Cordelle, Riven, Naia, our fractured little family, each worn and bloodstained in different ways.
“It’s about the Blood Fae,” I said, forcing the words past the knot in my throat. “They’ve been… hunting me.”
Jax blinked. “You?”
Cordelle sat up straighter, his eyes already churning with questions. “Why?”
“They think I’m on the wrong side,” I admitted. “That I belong to them somehow. They want something from me.”
Silence fell like a hammer. No one moved.
Riven was the first to speak, her voice careful. “When you say they want something… do you mean information, or—”
“I don’t know,” I cut in. “Not exactly. They speak in riddles. Warnings. One of them said my blood would open what’s been sealed.”
Cordelle’s mouth parted, a whisper of awe in his expression.
“I haven’t told you everything,” I continued, my voice barely above a whisper. “There have been… encounters. Before Eilvin’s death. One came to me in the tunnels. Another met me in the glade near the cliffs. They didn’t try to kill me. They tried to claim me.”
Jax swore softly under his breath. Tae muttered something I didn’t catch.
“I don’t know why,” I said. “I’ve been trying to figure it out, but the more I learn, the more it all feels… connected.”
Riven leaned forward, brows drawn. “Could it be tied to the weapon Cordelle mentioned? The one the king might be hunting?”
“The Light Fae weapon?” Cordelle asked, eyes narrowing. “You think Ashe could be the key to both sides?”
“Think about it,” Riven said, glancing around at the others. “The Blood Fae are hunting her, but they don’t want her dead. And the king, he’s been acting pretty strange lately. There is more to this. I know it.”
Ferrula’s lips tightened. “If that’s true… Ash isn’t just in danger. She is the danger.”
A chill ran down my spine.
“I didn’t ask for this,” I said, the words raw and sharp. “But whatever it is they want, I won’t let them have it. Not the king. Not the fae. No one.”
Naia nodded slowly. “Then we figure it out. Together.”
Jax crossed his arms. “And next time they come for you, we’ll be ready.”
Cordelle looked up at me, his voice quiet but sure. “If they think you’re a descendant of some ancient bloodline… a powerful one… then maybe that’s the piece we’ve been missing all along.”
Riven held my gaze. “And maybe,” she said, “you’re not just part of the weapon.”
“Maybe,” she whispered, “you are the weapon.”
The room went quiet after Riven’s words settled into the cracks of our thoughts.
Maybe you are the weapon.
No one had a response to that.
We sat in that stillness, breaths soft, minds spinning, until Cordelle quietly reopened the leather-bound tome his father had smuggled out of the Lorekeeper’s archives. The parchment rustled softly beneath his fingers as he hunched over the page, eyes scanning the ancient script by glowstone light.
The rest of us moved around him like ghosts. Naia and Ferrula got into their beds, followed by Riven and Tae. I waited until Jax returned from the washroom, face flushed from cold water and quiet reflection. Then I went, scrubbing away the ache in my muscles and the sting behind my eyes.
By the time we were dressed in our nightclothes and tucked into cots, Cordelle still hadn’t looked up.
Then he gasped and sat up so fast his bunk groaned under him.
“I found something.”
We all turned toward him as one.
Cordelle held the book open, finger trembling over a section of faded ink. “This book references something called the Virelith Crystal.”
“What is it?” Jax asked, swinging his legs over the side of his bed.
“Some kind of fae artifact,” Cordelle said, voice barely above a whisper. “It’s linked to a powerful and destructive magic. Older than the kingdom. Older than the Unification. It says it was sealed away by light, but the location was lost during the Blood Fae war.”