Chapter 12
Vaylen
Ineed to get out of this dragon-forsaken castle. Need to put as much distance as possible between myself and that room filled with liars and traitors. My fist clenches so tightly the leather of my glove creaks in protest.
Fragor. I need Fragor now. Why did we bother coming here when King Craven is nothing but a fool.
The corridor stretches endlessly before me. My boots thunder against the stone floor, each step driving my rage deeper like a rusted nail. The Commander follows several paces behind, wisely keeping her distance.
If I'd lost control in that chamber... By the four winds, I might have killed them all. King Craven with his smug face and talk of his personal Weaver. Tahranis, that conceited fuck. And Rhealyn... even Rhealyn.
My vision blurs red at the edges. The urge to summon a wind so fierce it would tear this castle stone from stone pulses through my veins. Only years of discipline hold back the storm brewing inside me.
Control. Control. Control. The word repeats in my mind like a prayer.
I hear footsteps quickening behind me. Not the Commander's.
"Vaylen!" Rhealyn's voice calls out.
I don't slow my pace. If I turn now, I can't be responsible for what happens next. I need to reach the courtyard, need to get on Fragor and fly out of here.
"Vaylen, please." Rhealyn calls again, her voice bouncing against the walls. "Stop!"
Turning the corner, I ignore her and lengthen my stride.
The Wind answers my silent command, swirling gently around me, urging me forward, away from her lying face.
Suddenly, the air before me thickens, congeals.
What begins as resistance becomes an impenetrable barrier.
A Wind Wall blocks my path, surrounding me. Not my doing. Hers.
I spin around, fury replacing restraint. "You dare?" I growl.
Rhealyn stands twenty paces back, hands extended, her raven hair whipping around her face.
I gather my power, letting it build within my chest before releasing a precise Wind Blast. Her Wall shatters like glass, the dispersing currents making her stumble.
But it's too late. She's caught up now and stands before me, chest heaving, hazel eyes wild with something that might be regret, if I believed she possessed such a thing.
"I have nothing to say to you, Wyndward."
"But I do," she responds, taking a step forward.
"Do you? You didn't seem to care before when you left with him in such a hurry," I say, remembering only her cold attitude and how she claimed to have a greater purpose.
She shakes her head, eyes roving over the floor. "I was… I don't know… overwhelmed then. I don't know why I—"
Wind stirs around us, responding to the fury coursing through my veins. "I don't give a shit," I spit, the words a lash.
Her face falls, eyes shining with unshed tears. "I'm sorry." Her voice is barely above a whisper.
A harsh laugh escapes me, startling even myself with its cruelty. "You're sorry? Is that what you think constitutes reparations for what you've done? For abandoning your duty, your oath, your—" I swallow the word 'love' before it can escape. "If that's what you believe, then maybe you're mad."
She continues to be by his side, which makes this apology as empty as Craven's brain.
I step closer, towering over her. The silver light that swirls in my eyes reflects in hers.
"But I don't really believe you're mad. No, every move you've made has been calculated.
" Each word strikes with the intended force.
I see it in the way she flinches. "I once thought I knew you, Rhealyn.
I defended you when others would have you kicking in the gallows.
" My voice drops low. "I won't make that mistake again. "
Her shoulders slump, but her eyes never leave mine.
"When I made my choice months ago, I did it for Embernia.
I did what I believed was right." Her voice grows stronger.
"I thought you would have forgotten me, moved on.
That returning from my year of absence would make no difference to what had been between us.
" She falters. "Something so short and fleeting. "
Short and fleeting.
The words pierce me like ice shards. Every night I spent staring at the stars wondering if she lived.
Every dawn breaking with her name still caught in my throat.
Every moment replaying the memories of her smile, her touch, her laughter.
Short and fleeting? It was never fleeting for me.
It was an eternity of longing condensed into mere days.
I steady myself, refusing to reveal the wound her words have opened. The wind whips between us, feeling like autumn's chill. Or perhaps it's merely the cold space where my heart used to reside.
Short and fleeting.
A small, traitorous voice whispers within me…
You can't blame her because you fell first, fell hardest. People don't love at the same pace or with equal measure.
Before all this, you were content merely to exist in her light, hoping someday she might return even a fraction of what you felt.
And mere days ago, you were certain she did, and you were happy.
I slam the door on these thoughts, locking them away in the darkest recesses of my heart. No more. Never again will I listen to that voice of weakness. Never again will I mistake someone's want for love or passion for loyalty.
I lower my head and snarl like an animal. Let her see what she's wrought and witness the man who emerges from the ashes of her deception. Forged in flame, hardened in heartbreak, unassailable now. I will never again be the man who loved her. That Vaylen is dead.
Rhealyn steps closer, her voice cracking. "It was… real, Vaylen."
I nearly choke, but manage to speak instead. "How naive do you think me? There was nothing real about any of it. Not when you were lying all along and kept to a plan you hatched with him."
"I wasn't lying. I truly couldn't remember. Heratrix erased my memories because I didn't think I could return otherwise."
"Don't make me laugh. The most accomplished liar I've ever met would have no trouble with such a trifling deception."
She frowns at this and says, "Yes." A single word as if spoken to herself.
Blinking, she meets my eyes and pauses to think for an instant, then shakes her head as if to return to the moment.
"None of this is easy for me. I realize now my choice months ago was a mistake.
I was wrong." Her fingers twist together nervously.
"I don't know what's happening. I feel..
. fractured. My mind and my—" She hesitates, and I find myself leaning forward imperceptibly, waiting for words she doesn't speak.
Heart. Say it, Rhealyn. Your heart is fractured too.
I damn myself for this weakness that keeps returning, no matter how many times I try to bury it. After everything, I still hunger for confirmation that I wasn't alone in what I felt.
"I don't want us to be enemies," she whispers, reaching toward me before thinking better of it, then her hand falls back to her side.
I sneer. "What then? Friends?" The word sounds like a cosmic joke. "We dance in a ball, share ale in a tavern, swap tales of your adventures with your… companion? Perhaps I should congratulate you on finding Heratrix while you were betraying me?"
The wind whips harder around us, mirroring the tempest inside me. Friends. As if we could ever be merely friends after what blazed between us.
"Vaylen, please. We want the same thing for Embernia."
"Forgive me if I don't believe a word you say.
" I turn away, my resolve finally hardened enough to stop hoping.
"We have nothing more to discuss, Lady Wyndward," I say, my voice as cold as northern steel.
"Whatever scheme you're weaving with Tahranis and the King doesn't concern me.
My duty is to the Sky Order. Not to chase phantoms of feelings that never truly existed or trust the words of confirmed liars. What's done cannot be undone."
I turn my back on her, each step carrying me further from the wreckage of what we were. For a year, my heart beat her name with every pulse. Rhealyn. Rhealyn. Rhealyn. A relentless rhythm that haunted my waking hours and poisoned my dreams. No more.
Again and again, I shed the weakness of longing like a serpent casts off old skin, and every time I get closer to hating her fully.
The man who pined for her keeps attempting resurrection, but I won't allow it.
In his place, someone different will soon rise for good.
The ties that bound me to Rhealyn Wyndward snap one by one, falling away like broken chains that once tethered me to a lie.
She's lost to me. No. That implies she was once mine to lose. A foolish notion. She belongs to prophecies and powers beyond my reach. To dragons and wind and men who walk in hidden paths.
I go in search of Fragor so I can leave behind the castle, the King, the treachery.
And her.