Chapter 4
For it was decided by Balance, to maintain order and equality, that the Constellations would choose among the realm and the living beings therein, bonded and stewards. Bonded to wield the blessing. Stewards to serve and command the blessing.
The Empyrean Scrolls: Remnants of the Holy Text
HE HAD APPEARED IN MOST of her dreams lately. Likely a result of her more frequent trips to the slums and reviving old memories.
Once again, she and Elion were on the grassy knoll overlooking the Aetherdeep Sea.
They both lay in the grass, lungs full of salty air.
There were seagulls overhead, riding the sea breeze.
The city of Tenebris was visible in the distance, teeming with life.
But here, on this little patch of dirt, all was peaceful and quiet.
Astraia took a deep breath in and sighed loudly.
“What’s wrong?” Elion probed. His arms were crossed under his head, and his eyes remained closed. He was wearing a simple tunic and pants, an outfit a mother would loathe, which was precisely why he chose it.
“I don’t want to go back,” Astraia murmured, worry shadowing her face.
“I know,” he replied, regret in his voice.
“You know…” A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he rolled onto his side and propped his head on his hand, eyeing Astraia.
“We could just leave. No one even knows we’re here.
We could get on those horses and head for the Hydraneas River right now.
I happen to know a tradesman with a boat who owes me a favor.
” His smile widened, eyes dancing with excitement.
“Elion…” Astraia groaned. She sat up, wrapping her arms around her legs, and put her head down on her knees. “You know I can’t.”
“Why? What have they ever done for you except make your life hell?” Elion demanded as he sat up. She could feel his stare like daggers piercing her skin but refused to look at him.
“I can’t just leave. It’s what I was born to do.” Her voice rose defensively.
He had never understood the pressure she faced, not fully. She whipped her head to the side and returned his stare with an icy one of her own until those green eyes met hers. Her anger dissipated, and she lost all resolve.
“Will you go with me?” she asked softly.
Elion paused, sighing in frustration and shaking his head. With a huff, he stood up and extended a hand to Astraia.
“I suppose,” he said with a smirk.
The image blurred.
The dream shifted.
Astraia stood before her father. His cold blue eyes were alight with anger and taking on a life of their own. His hair was disheveled, likely due to lack of sleep again. Whatever project it was that had been occupying his nights was taking a toll on his stamina, that much was clear.
However, he mustered enough strength to argue with Elion. He was shouting at him, but the sound was muted—like voices behind glass. Astraia watched, straining to hear, but couldn’t make out the words.
Elion stood in defiance, gesturing toward her, shouting something back. His voice was muffled, his face red with rage.
A woman stood in the corner of the room, her narrowed eyes fixed on Astraia. Hatred, violent and intense, echoed in the woman’s eyes. She could not recall the woman’s name. Why was she looking at her with such disdain?
Astraia tore her eyes away from the venomous woman’s glare and back to Elion and her father. She tried to speak. Nothing. No voice. She tried to move. Nothing.
She was frozen.
Something was wrong.
Why were they fighting? What were they saying? Why was she rooted in place?
That was when she felt it—a low rumble all around her.
It shook the ground beneath her feet so hard, the glass in the windows rattled.
A high-pitched ringing pierced the muffled silence and filled her ears.
Her father and Elion stopped shouting. They both turned their heads, and their eyes fixed on her.
Elion’s face twisted in panic as he reached for her. His green eyes bored into her soul. His voice filled her mind, echoing through her body.
He whispered, soft and low, “You are Starlight, Astraia. You will not fall.”
A burst of white light erupted—brighter than the sun—engulfing the room.
Astraia screamed, “No!”
Her voice shattered the dream—
And then came blackness.
Astraia jolted awake, sweat slicking her spine.
She sat up, heart pounding, breath ragged.
It was barely dawn, and morning dew clung to the ground surrounding the camp, making the grass of the clearing appear to be carpeted in Starlight.
Stiffly, she rose from her mat and pulled her cloak around her, noting a slight chill in the summer air.
Val was smoking his pipe, stoking a fire with a pot of tea warming. Thalen and Vastor were absent from their bed rolls.
“Ahh, yer awake. Good. The transport should be here soon.” Val puffed on his pipe and nodded toward the river beside them.
“Where are they?” Astraia inclined her head toward the absent bed rolls as she grabbed a metal cup from her pack and poured a cup of tea, steam rising to meet her face as she poured. She had nudged Thalen awake for the second watch last night but passed out quickly afterward.
“Doing a perimeter check, I reck’n. That’s what they told me earlier before ye woke up.”
Astraia set her cup down. Her eyes scanned the tree line, the heavy fog rolling in from the river like a veil. The Starfell Woods stood silent—too silent. No birdsong, no wind. Just the pulse of something unseen.
Her bond stirred. Not a flare. But the familiar tingle along her spine, the breath just out of reach.
Then her gaze landed on where the horses had been tied up the night before—only to find them all missing. Orion included.
Astraia leapt from her spot around the fire.
“Val, they took the horses! How could you not notice they took our horses?” she shouted, thankful she had kept her bow and arrow by her side last night as she slept.
She slung her quiver over her head and stared at Val incredulously. How could he be so naive?
“I—I don’t know, Traia. I wasn’t fully awake yet and I guess…” He ran a hand through his hair as he stood in front of her. He let out a troubled breath, his eyes locked on hers with clear regret filling them. “Stars, I’m sorry.”
She bit the inside of her cheek, swallowing her frustration as she glanced over where they had unhitched the wagon. It too was gone.
“And they took the wagon. Just great.” She sighed, rubbing her forehead.
“Listen to me, Val, you need to tell me right now what Delphi was shipping,” Astraia demanded, irritated more so at herself for letting her guard down.
“You know I can’t tell ye that, girl. Less people know, the better,” he said, eyes narrow.
“Val…if I’m going to go after them, I need to know. What if they’re explosives and they try to ambush me?”
“They ain’t no explosives, but they might as well be.” He sighed, running his fingers through his beard.
“What do you mean?” she asked, arms crossed.
“She be shipping Starshards, girl. Barrels of it. To the highest bidder.”
Her blood froze, fear creeping into her mind.
People had tried manipulating the Stars, attempting to create their own bonds using the Starshards, remnants of the Shattering.
Some people succeeded, creating synthetic partial bonds, weakened forms of the Constellation’s blessings.
They called themselves the Shardborne. Others went too far, experimenting with multiple different star shards, which always ended in death or worse—unnatural bonds and unimaginable pain.
This group of zealots were known as the Tredecim.
If Delphi was in league with either group, Astraia wanted no part in it.
“Stars…” Astraia cursed under her breath. “You mean to tell me Delphi was smuggling Stars-forsaken Starshards?”
Val’s face was deadpan. “I told ye, it was better off ye not know.”
“Stars!” she shouted, throwing her hands up. She knew Delphi was likely smuggling illegal goods, but never this.
“We need to move. Now. Before they come back to finish us off as witnesses.” She kicked dirt onto the fire, smothering it.
“Ye really think they’d come back just to kill us?” Val lumbered toward her.
Astraia stopped and pivoted toward Val, facing him. “Look, Val, I like you. You’ve always been kind to me. But I know about bad people. And people who want Starshards are bad people. Now you can linger, and become collateral damage, or you can come back with me.”
And watch me deal with Delphi, she thought.
She had worked for five years to build the life she now had, albeit a pathetic existence on the surface, but she treasured it.
She once believed the emptiness she harbored in her soul would engulf her, devouring her will to keep breathing.
Working in the slums had healed a part of her.
It gave her purpose. Tenebris was all she had left, and by the Stars, she would not lose it over some wretched black-market deal.
“I’ve been runnin’ these woods longer than most have drawn breath,” Val said quietly, not looking at her. “But I don’t like the feel of this one, girl. Feels like the Stars are holdin’ their breath.” He paused, looking at her with a smile. “I’ll go with ya. But only cause I’ve grown fond of ya.”
Astraia stared at the man, wide-eyed. He had been her companion on several shipments but had never spoken to her like this.
“Okay then.” She turned and started walking toward the road.
The air was too still. Not even the river’s waters rippled. Her bond thrummed in her bones, a silent drumbeat warning her to run.
That was when she heard it. The sound of branches snapping, leaves crunching, horses breathing, vibrating through the twisted and tortuous woods.
She swore under her breath. Stars, I hate being right.
From the shadows of the Starfell Woods, the forest awakened.