Chapter 15
What was once a common occurrence, traditionally passed down through generations, being blessed by the Stars became increasingly rare in the ten years post Shattering.
Starborne numbers dwindled exponentially with each passing generation.
Starborne abilities that had been a privilege and honor were seen as tainted stains on the people of the realm; little more than a reminder of the abandonment from the Stars.
A People’s History of Astradeon
GETTING THE HORSES READY FOR their journey to Virellia had proven more of a challenge than she wanted to admit.
Visions of the men who assaulted her and her close encounter with death kept muddling her thoughts.
She stood outside the half-burned stables for several minutes, trying to steady her breaths, but every time she took a step forward, her vision blurred and her skin became clammy.
“You know, we cannot actually reach Virellia if we do not leave?” Draven said impatiently behind her, his horse snorting as if in agreement.
She clenched her teeth, choking back a rebuttal. But after her third failed attempt, he sighed and dismounted his horse.
“Wait here,” he muttered as he strode past her into the stables. After a few moments, he returned, leading Orion out to her, already saddled. He stopped in front of her, holding out the reins. She begrudgingly grabbed them, nodding to him.
“Thanks,” she mumbled, pink rushing to her cheeks.
“Don’t thank me yet, Starborne. I’m still contemplating the manacles.” His eyes lingered on hers for a split second, face empty, then he walked back to his horse.
Pink turned to red as her embarrassment morphed into rage.
It is still early. Plenty of time to consider the one hundred ways I can kill him.
Sunlight broke over the horizon, warming her skin as Orion's hooves struck the stone Aquarian bridge in a rhythmic cadence.
Astraia closed her eyes, breathing in that fragile moment of calm.
The revelry and wine of the night before still lingered in the form of a persistent headache.
Yet it was not the headache that vexed her, but the unwelcome shadow in her wake.
She could hear Draven’s horse walking beside her and blinked, letting her gaze drift sideways, and was unable to stop the fluttering of her bond sending a thrill through her.
She cursed at the intruding sensation. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see his amber eyes locked on her.
Draven’s gaze lingered, unreadable—but steady.
As if he sensed something she had not meant to reveal.
She blinked again, setting her sights ahead, where they were approaching the other side of the bridge.
Last night she had overstepped, letting herself feel sympathy toward the man who could end her life in an instant.
Yet, every time she was near him, her bonds betrayed her, and she realized she did, in fact, care if he had a soul—cared if he lived or died.
Other travelers passed by them, heading toward Aquarian.
Astraia kept her cloaked head low and wits about her, reminding herself that she was being pursued by other bounty hunters, not just the one who had consumed her thoughts.
Orion’s ears perked, sensing her uneasiness, and he picked up his pace.
Within moments, hoofbeats softened as they set foot on Virellia soil.
They would reach Volpes, the capital of Virellia, within two sunrises if they kept a steady pace.
The capital was known for its lush landscapes and mystical gardens, harboring all kinds of flora and fauna, including herbs and rare plants used for healing.
The Constellation Desire had chosen many of the people of Virellia as their Starborne, giving them the gift of the earth.
The result was the province teeming with verdant greenery, a beauty only Desire herself exceeded.
Astraia and her brother had visited Virellia many times growing up.
She remembered a glistening white manor at the capital, covered in ivy and blooming flowers.
She chuckled, recalling Elion causing chaos on their visits to Volpes.
She seemed to remember a host of frogs being let loose in the kitchens of the manor followed by a pointless scolding by their father.
Draven turned his head toward her, raising an eyebrow. “Something funny, Starborne?”
“I was thinking of my brother,” Astraia replied, a soft smile on her face, her stare fixed ahead as Orion walked on the grassy road. “He was always getting into trouble. Mostly to vex our parents. But he always had a way of making the days entertaining. I was so happy back then.”
“Your brother was fortunate to have your love,” Draven said without jest, his tone soft.
Astraia paused, turning her head to look at him. His face somewhat tense, those amber eyes always shocking her when they met hers.
“It still was not enough,” she replied, blinking away a tear from her eye.
“You claim fault for his death, but I wonder…” He paused, narrowing his eyes on her. “What would he say if he knew you carried that blame like a shield?”
“What?” Her eyes widened.
“You use his death as an excuse to ignore your Power bond. You refuse to claim it fully or train it properly, which makes you dangerous. Based on what you told me about your brother, I do not think he would approve of your ignorance.”
Astraia seethed, her skin heating with anger, and her bonds rushed to life, as though they could sense the topic of conversation.
“How dare you,” she snapped, teeth bared. Her fingertips pulsed with white light, thrumming through her core, desperate to unleash chaos on the infuriating man next to her.
“Now who is afraid?” He smirked, raising an eyebrow, then nudged his horse forward ahead of her.
“I will kill him,” she whispered to Orion as she kept a few paces behind the bounty hunter, eyeing the back of his cloak.
Whether she would admit it or not, the brute had struck a nerve. Elion would be ashamed of her for stifling her bonds, for hiding parts of who she was, all because of fear. It was righteous fear, she reasoned. Fear that kept her from harming others.
Yet the more she tried to silence her Power bond, the louder it screamed and the more aggressive and unyielding it became. Losing her tether in the void of her mind was not an experience she wished to revisit ever again. Neither was flaring Power until she burned to ash.
She could not fail Elion again. Power could be tamed. She just needed the right training. It was then she decided she would master her bond, if not for herself, then for him.
They made camp in a narrow clearing nestled between the moss-draped trees of Virellia’s borderlands, where the air shimmered with pollen and low-floating mist. The sky above them was beginning to darken, yet a few scattered stars managed to pierce the fading veil—faint reminders of what once was.
Astraia knelt by the firepit, coaxing flames from dry kindling. The warmth of it was meager, but enough to ward off the chill creeping through the undergrowth.
Across from her, Draven sat sharpening his blade with quiet precision, amber eyes catching sparks from the firelight.
She hated how easily the silence between them had become…comfortable.
“I still don’t trust you,” she muttered.
He looked up, smirking faintly. “Good. I wouldn’t trust me either.”
She rolled her eyes and settled onto her cloak, knees drawn to her chest. “So what’s your game then? Following me across the continent. Playing my shadow. Waiting for your opportunity to turn me in?”
Draven didn’t answer immediately. He finished a pass of his whetstone, then set his sword aside.
“I’ve seen what happens to those who flare without control,” he said, voice lower now. “You’re powerful. Too powerful to be reckless.”
Astraia flinched, her fingers curling at her sides. “I wasn’t reckless,” she said quietly.
Draven’s gaze didn’t waver. “I didn’t say you were. But you’re scared of it.”
The truth of it hit harder than any blade. She looked away, the fire casting shadows across her face.
“You’re hiding it. Binding it down so tight you can’t even breathe. That’s no way to live, Traia.”
She stiffened at the sound of her name in his mouth. It sounded…different. Less like a challenge and more like a plea.
“And what do you know of it?” she asked.
Draven stood and crossed to her side of the fire. She didn’t move as he knelt beside her, close enough to feel the heat of him through her cloak, eclipsing the heat of the fire.
“My father was star-bonded,” he said. “To Rage.”
Astraia blinked in surprise, her gaze snapping to him. He had never spoken of his life, let alone his past. “Then you know what it feels like…when it rises. How it tries to consume everything.”
He nodded once. “I also know it doesn’t have to.” He glanced at her, then nodded toward the glen beside their camp. “Come on. You’ve rested enough.”
***
“No.” Astraia stood, arms crossed, facing Draven.
He held out a sword to her, a smaller one than his broadsword he kept strapped to his back, but just as sharp.
“If you don’t learn how to harness it, you’ll just keep losing control. Your fear of it is more dangerous,” he said, stepping closer to her. The moonlight reflected off his eyes, creating an ethereal glow, not unlike the glow of her bonds.
“I’m not fighting you.” She stood her ground, refusing to relent. Her fists were clenched at her sides, eyes glowering at the bounty hunter.
“Then let me be clear—this isn’t a request.” He stepped closer, closing the space between them. His hand gripped hers, firm as he pressed the hilt of the sword into her palm. His touch lingered, deliberate, eyes locked to hers like a challenge. Then, slowly—he leaned in.
Her breath hitched, chest rising faster as heat bloomed beneath her skin. Her lips parted on instinct—half anticipation, half defiance. She braced for a smirk, a quip, anything to break the tension tightening around them.