Chapter 14
Remnants of pottery and the hilts of daggers were discovered among the northern outskirts of Stellasaltus, now Celestial Wastes, during the excavation in the fourth year of King Haluropa’s reign, fifty- and six-years post Shattering.
ASTRAIA SAT ON THE EDGE of the bed for several minutes after the bounty hunter left her, puzzled by his treasonous admission.
Her mind did not have much time to wonder before she heard a light rap on the door.
Slowly, she turned the handle and cracked the door, peering into the eyes of the young servant girl once again.
“Pardon me, miss,” the girl said softly, a smile on her face, “but I thought perhaps you could use this for tonight.” She held out a bundle of folded fabric in her hands.
Confused, Astraia took the fabric, letting it unfold as she held it up. A simple dark blue dress unfurled as she held it beside her.
“My thanks, but”—Astraia turned to the girl, bewildered—“what would I need this for?”
The girl laughed, then beamed at her with excitement. “ Tonight is the Festival of Pouring to honor the town’s namesake, the mighty Aquarius. He was said to be a mighty warrior during the Celestial War and—”
“Defended the rivers from Dominion. Yes, I am well aware of the tales,” Astraia cut her off, sighing.
“There will be a great feast and dancing in the field. You simply must come!” The girl spun around the hallway, eyes closed as she daydreamed.
Astraia chuckled, envying the girl’s carefree spirit.
A flush of red bloomed on the girl’s cheeks as she stopped spinning, then met her eyes once more. “I was not sure you had a dress to wear, so I brought one of my older sister’s. You appear to be the same build.”
Astraia struggled to swallow a lump forming in her throat, her eyes watering. “Surely your sister would miss her dress?” She cocked her eyebrow but watched the servant girl’s countenance fall.
“Not anymore,” she whispered, her eyes downcast.
The air grew cold, grief written on her face—a grief Astraia knew all too intimately.
“I would be honored to wear your sister’s dress,” Astraia said, grasping the girl’s hand and giving it a quick squeeze.
The girl glanced up once more, a tear trickling down her nose, and smiled. Curtsying, she hurried down the hall, back to the servants’ stairs.
It took Astraia a few moments to change into the cotton dress, opting for no shoes given all she had were her leather boots.
She managed to weave half of her hair into a braided crown on top of her head, the rest of her unruly locks falling down her back.
Strapping her dagger to her thigh beneath her dress, she gazed out the window overlooking the field.
People scurried around setting up tables and benches for the grand feast as the sun’s last rays were peeking behind trees.
A large bonfire was being lit in the center of the field, and a maypole was hoisted high close to the inn, children already screaming and laughing as they chased each other barefoot in the grass.
As more townspeople flocked to the field, the louder the chatter became.
It warmed Astraia to see a celebration of life, of hope, of joy.
It almost made her forget the atrocities of the night prior.
Draven was nowhere to be seen in the crowd below, but Astraia was certain he was not far off.
The instinctual urge to jump on Orion’s back and escape into the night made her bonds hum, vibrating in her spine.
With the ruckus of the festival, it would be too easy to slip past the moody bounty hunter.
Yet the idea of facing unknowns of the starless night alone gave her pause.
No, perhaps for tonight, she could just be Traia—the girl with no past and forgotten grief.
Astraia smiled, a bounce in her steps as she hurried down the stairs and out of the dining hall.
Rounding the corner at the back of the inn, the festival had fully commenced in the light of the full moon.
Lamps dotted the tables and littered the grounds around the field.
Above the laughter and voices from those dining, a flute and fiddle could be heard playing a spritely tune as children gave chase through the grass.
All manner of smells filled Astraia’s nose, including roasted boar and fresh bread, making her mouth water.
Her appreciation of the lavish scene was interrupted by the young servant girl bouncing up to her with her blonde hair braided with small flowers atop her head. She wore a soft pink dress which complemented her milk-white skin and the pink blush that graced her dimples.
“You came! I am so pleased,” she said earnestly, grasping Astraia’s hand and leading her to the bench next to her at the table. “I am Felicity, by the way.” Her smile widened, and she handed Astraia a goblet of wine.
“Stars keep you, I am Traia.” Astraia smiled back at her.
“And the Stars you. Now, you must eat!” Felicity grabbed a sweet roll, handing it to Astraia before she proceeded to fill her own plate.
It had been years since Astraia had attended a festival.
Tenebris’s common people were considerably more destitute than those of Aquarian, scraping by with just enough food for one meal a day, let alone providing for a feast. Aquarian was under the same jurisdiction as Tenebris, but the trade route afforded more room for economic advancement.
Tenebris had been reduced to little more than a facade for black-market dealings, and a prison where all the undesirable and Plagued were herded and forgotten.
Astraia savored the moment, eating her fill and drinking wine until her muscles loosened and laughing became effortless.
Felicity introduced her to everyone sitting around them, including the two younger men who could not peel their eyes from the young girl.
Astraia gathered they were Felicity’s age, no more than twenty, and their flirtatious competition for her attention was almost comical.
The music picked up tempo as the moon rose higher—a serenade for the starless night. Astraia giggled watching both of the young men ask for Felicity’s hand to dance, arguing over who could sweep her off her feet and make her dreams come true.
“Well, who will you dance with, Felicity?” the taller boy asked, his hand still outstretched with mischief in his eyes.
Felicity looked at her suitors, then gave Astraia a wink before she said, “I believe I shall dance with whoever I like.” Grabbing Astraia’s hand, she pulled her to the bonfire, giggling at the exasperated looks on the boys’ faces.
Astraia could not help but laugh with the girl as they danced together around the bonfire, twirling barefoot on the summer grass.
Soon others joined their revelry, the fire casting their silhouettes as giant shadows across the field and onto the side of the inn, as if the essence of the Stars were dancing with them.
The remaining number of sunrises might not be certain for the Starborne girl who worked in the slums, but today she would let the moonbeams kiss her skin and the flames paint her steps.
Closing her eyes, she let her feet follow the music, twirling once more with her hands above her head until her back hit a wall, halting her merriment.
Catching herself before she stumbled forward, Astraia whipped around to see what had stopped her, only to find an annoyed bounty hunter blocking her path.
“Excuse me, hunter, but you appear to be directly in my way,” she said, smiling as he scowled at her.
He did not move, just crossed his arms and stared at her with brows furrowed.
Astraia noticed he was not wearing his leather Drakari-scale armor, just his tunic and casual riding pants and boots.
He blended in for once, instead of looking like he might start another war and steal maidens in his conquest.
Astraia frowned as she thought of Draven stealing maidens. For some reason, this idea did not sit well with her. She shook her head to clear her mind, though it was already muddled with wine and dance.
“I thought you had made another reckless attempt at fleeing, so forgive my irritation after searching the town for several hours for signs of you only to find you…” He trailed off as he glanced down at her borrowed dress and bare feet. “Dancing.”
Astraia burst out laughing, giving Draven a start. “I thought you were supposed to be a bounty hunter?”
Draven huffed.
“Lighten up and dance, bounty hunter. It is not you who faces imprisonment, torture, and likely death,” she said, twirling in front of him, perfectly content ignoring the threat he posed to her freedom.
“I do not dance, Starborne,” he said, voice stern.
“Do not tell me that the ruthless king’s dog, feared by all, killer of man and beast, is afraid of…dancing?” Her eyebrow rose, challenging him.
“I am not afraid. I said I do not dance,” he snapped.
“You know what I think?” Astraia strode up to him, never breaking his gaze, until she could feel the warmth of his breath on her face.
Her bonds responded in kind, warming her core at his closeness.
“I think you are afraid. You fear failure. It’s why you blindly follow orders.
Even if those orders kill innocents and are slowly costing you your soul. ”
Draven chuckled, his voice rough and low. “And why do you care for my soul?”
“No one should be left alone in the dark,” Astraia whispered.
Her eyes fell, breaking the tension. She stepped away from him, the heat from her bonds plunged into cold with her retreat.
His mouth opened, but she did not wait for his rebuttal. Turning on her heel, she floated through the crowd, the sounds of dancing and music and laughter fading as she walked barefoot in the grass.
Moonlight withered away with each step she took. Her mind wandered to the edge of a steep cliff. The darkness purred beyond the edge, coaxing unspeakable horrors from the depths as it hissed from the blackness.
You are already alone in the dark, Starborne.