Chapter 33
With the fall of Luxterra and the death of King Illias, the realm crumbled.
Wraiths overran the provinces, burning villages and slaughtering thousands.
Only Virellia and the Skyforge Peaks were able to withstand the assault.
Virellia, it is said, was protected by the Star herself, Desire, though this is only speculation.
Broken: The Celestial War
“STARS, SAVE ME,” ASTRAIA GROANED as Draven unlocked the door to the room and swung it open.
It was quaint, with a small fireplace already lit for the evening, a large window overlooking the woods outside the town, and a small table in the corner with a vase holding a bunch of wildflowers.
The room was slightly larger than the room they had shared in Aquarian, but there was a glaring similarity—one bed, one chair.
She walked inside the floorboards creaking with age, and stood in the middle of an ornate rug that covered most of the room.
Draven closed the door, then cleared his throat.
“Right. Well, there were no other rooms.” He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked at her.
A faint tinge of pink flushed his cheeks, but vanished almost as soon as it came.
“You can have the bed,” he said quickly before dropping his pack onto the ground by the armchair that was angled toward the fireplace.
He stood staring at her, waiting for her retort.
Heat rushed to her face, and she bit her bottom lip to prevent herself from saying something sarcastic and slowly nodded.
His gaze fell, lingering on her lips, and her whole body exploded with heat. Her bonds rushed to her spine, pleading with her to escape and fill the room with Starborne light.
Draven raised his eyes to hers once more then blinked, breaking the magical hold. He cleared his throat then turned to the door. His hand rested on the doorknob, and he glanced over his shoulder at her.
“I’m going to find us something to eat. There’s a washroom across the hall.”
And before she could respond, he had closed the door behind him.
The heat from his stare was sucked out of the room as the latch clicked shut. The warmth of her cheeks faded as her bonds also quieted, leaving her shivering from cold. He was the sun to her starless night.
She shuffled around in her satchel until she found it—his tunic. The one she embarrassingly wore almost every night, except when she had it laundered. She unloaded her bow and quiver but kept her dagger with her as she crossed the hall to the washroom.
Locking the door behind her, she undressed quickly.
She had no desire to loiter in the washroom as it was used by all the guests on that floor, and she was already shivering in the cold room.
There was running water, but only mildly hot, and the tub was just large enough to sit inside, clearly meant for washing and not for soaking.
After just a few minutes, she had thoroughly scrubbed the day’s journey from her skin and pulled the tunic over her head. She ran fingers through her dark hair and scurried back across the hall.
As she made to open the door, the handle turned, and Draven stood in the doorway.
“Oh, sorry, I just finished,” she stammered, clutching her belongings to her chest.
The bounty hunter stared at her, running his eyes from her face down to her bare feet. She felt naked despite the fabric covering her skin. Heat rose to her face, and her breaths quickened. Swallowing hard, she cleared her throat.
He blinked, breaking the spell, and stepped aside, allowing her to pass.
“Thanks,” she murmured, gliding past him.
She placed her clothes on the table and found a cloth with some meat, cheese, and bread laid out for her.
She turned around to thank him, but he had disappeared.
Bewildered, she sat on the edge of the bed and ate in silence.
Moments passed, and with her belly full, sleep beckoned her like an old friend.
Unsure when Draven would return, she made sure the door was locked before she shimmied into bed.
As her eyes grew heavy, she slid her hand under her pillow and grasped the hilt of her dagger tightly.
The smooth curve of the metal fit perfectly in her palm, an extension of herself like her bonds.
Comfort wrapped around her as she closed her eyes and thought back to the day when Elion gifted her the blade.
A bright light greeted her when she opened her eyes.
Not the circular room she came to fear, but a brilliant forest. The trees glowed white, and their branches were dipped in stardust, glittering like a thousand suns.
Above the canopy was a black sky, but it was not static.
It moved, like an ocean in the expanse. Scattered in the rolling velvet were millions of brilliant stars, tiny dots flowing with the tides of the night.
She glanced down at her feet to find them bare. Her feet shifted on the soft dirt that squished between her toes like flour, and she noticed she still wore the tunic Draven had given her.
A muffled sound broke her inspection, and she snapped her head up. Slowly, she glided toward the sound. Her feet made no noise as she made her way through the glowing forest.
The muffled sound grew louder with each step until she could make out a voice.
The forest cleared in front of her, and a temple of white stone materialized before her.
Hazy figures robed in white stood in front of the temple, their faces blurred and voices muted.
Another figure with an indiscernible face stood on top of the steps leading into the temple, a loud shout echoing from his lips.
His voice remained muffled, as though speaking to the figures through a closed door.
The tall figure pointed at her with a glowing, ghostly finger, and the faceless crowd turned in her direction.
The figures began to chant, words that were foreign to her blasted from their mouths.
An ancient tongue, one that had not been heard in a millennium, filled her mind with chaos.
She covered her ears with her hands, attempting to block out the chant, but it was no use.
Spinning around to flee into the forest, she stopped cold. The chanting immediately ceased, and the forest around her disappeared.
She stood surrounded by waves of blackness and glittering stars. Her feet faltered, finding purchase on the rolling waves, but her eyes stayed fixed ahead.
Standing in front of her was a man and woman, both clothed in white hooded robes and only their mouths visible. Their skin glowing with a radiance that could only be described as Starlight. Astraia’s body went numb, her mind scattered, unsure what to do or what to say as she stared.
The woman’s hands were crossed in front of her, hidden within the sleeves of her robes. Her lips did not move, but a light and airy voice broke through the darkness, echoing around her.
“Starborne,” she sang as she stepped toward Astraia. “You have been chosen.”
Astraia tried to speak, but words escaped her as if she had somehow forgotten how.
“The darkness is coming.” The man spoke now, his voice like thunder crashing around a mountainside, yet his mouth remained closed.
Together they walked toward her, their steps slow and deliberate. The closer they came, the brighter they glowed. She squinted, trying to make out their faces. She expected to feel fear, but she only felt a welcoming peace wash over her.
As they stopped in front of her, they both outstretched a glowing hand and rested one on each of her shoulders. A tingling sensation bloomed at their touch, filling her with euphoria.
“You must be strong now. And remember…” They spoke in unison, a melody blending together in perfect harmony. “You are Starlight.”
A smile curved on her lips, embracing the happiness and comfort that she yearned for in life. As she opened her mouth once more to respond to the figures, a shadow floated over their faces. The black smoke circled them, blotting out their glow and snuffing out the twinkling stars around them.
The woman squeezed Astraia’s shoulder once more, and her velvety voice whispered through the shadow, “Remember who you are, Starborne.”
In a breath, the figures were consumed in shadow, disappearing into pure darkness.
Thick smoke pooled around her feet, caressing her skin and stealing all warmth and goodness from her.
She struggled to move her legs, but the shadows held fast, spiraling up her legs to her torso.
The shadows extended beyond her feet and fanned out into a pillar of swirling darkness until it began to take shape.
An eerie red glow split the wisps of darkness, and two slitted red eyes gazed back at her.
An ashen face took shape next, red cracks glowing beneath the surface, and finally a mouth full of sharp, pointed teeth.
The face hovered within the shadows, disconnected from a solid form, only vapor in the starless empyrean.
The silence shattered with a sound of hissing from the shadow demon, words spoken in an ancient heathen language. The sound made her skin crawl and set her teeth on edge. She had no way of blocking out the sound as her hands were now bound to her sides.
As the hissing reverberated around her, another low snarl slithered into her mind, speaking plainly.
“You cannot stop the dark,” it whispered to her, luring her to the edge of her mind.
“It can never be stopped. And you will watch, helpless, as it consumes everything and everyone. You are a waste, a disappointment, a failure. Your inadequacy killed him.”
Her father’s voice blared through her mind, mirroring the words of the shadows.
“Waste. Disappointment. Failure.”
Killed him. She had killed Elion. Murdered him.