Chapter 6 Darian
Darian
My dagger hits the target perfectly. The second is barely an inch away, the third closer still.
The Lightbringer folds beneath the rapid blows, collapsing to the ground in a groan of wood and straw.
The head rolls off, collecting dust from the training ground as I stalk over to tear my weapons from the dummy, my jaw tight.
It hasn’t helped. I’d thought sparring might have cleared my head, but instead I’m more aware than ever of the looks thrown my way. Of the way men I used to call friends pretend not to see me when I walk by.
At this point, I may as well wear a sign on my forehead.
Traitor’s blood.
Traitor’s son.
Traitor.
One and the same to most here. The reason doesn’t matter. All that matters is that my father made a choice to try and save who he could and instead condemned us.
Me. He condemned me.
I glance to the gates across the courtyard to my right, searching for any sign of an incoming party.
I’ve tucked myself away in one of the smaller practice areas in an attempt to avoid notice, away from the main training grounds with far better equipment.
I kick at the useless dummy, my lip curling before I sigh and crouch, attempting to put it back together.
“I didn’t realize you were that hard up for friends that you’re making your own.”
At the amused voice, my shoulders pull in. When I don’t say anything, Sera clicks her tongue. “I haven’t been avoiding you, before you ask.”
“Unlike every other soldier here.” I mutter the words into the safety of my straw friend's face, but she’s close enough to catch them. “I know. You’ve been on patrols.”
And it’s good to see she made it back, even if I don’t voice it. Too many don’t.
“Dare,” she says, almost gently. “They’ll come around.”
I don’t want her to be nice to me, either. It’s almost worse.
I don’t know what I fucking want.
My eyes flicker to the castle doors when they open. A pair of icy, silver eyes, streaked with black, tighten as we lock gazes, before they turn away to scan the closed gates. Kaelen vanishes back into the castle without a word.
He’s watching for Eres too. But there are far more demands on his time than there are on mine. I’ve been here for hours, and he barely gets a moment to himself.
I turn my attention to Sera. She leans against the fence, her arms dangling over.
“Are you going back out? I could use a patrol.” The words spring into my head, but as I say them, it actually sounds like a decent plan. I need a damn distraction, and fuck Kaelen’s orders to stay here. I need something to pierce the constant thoughts that I can’t get away from.
“As soon as possible,” she says wryly. I’m not the only one who needs to escape. Sera rubs a hand down her face. “But preferably before my father gets back. Although it’s more than my life’s worth to let you join us if he finds out. Or Kaelen. Sorry, Dare.”
Figures. “Your father is still grieving.”
A shadow flits over her face. “We’re all grieving. There isn’t a single person in Umbraxis who isn’t.”
I open my mouth. But I don’t have the right words. I only have apologies, and she’s already told me she doesn’t want those. “You could always spar with me, if you need to let off some steam.”
Pale blue eyes narrow. “I haven’t recovered from last time.”
I raise my hands. “I told you, I didn’t do anything.”
“I had nightmares for a week. As you know, you creep.”
I push my tongue into the side of my mouth, attempting to hide my smile. “I was worried about you.”
She rolls her eyes. “Save your worries for someone who wants them.”
I flinch. The amusement in her eyes softens. “Sorry.”
Shrugging, I abandon the well-beyond-saving dummy and stroll over, leaning on the fence beside her. “Not your fault.”
It's not her fault that nobody wants them. That nobody wants me, and the thought is so pitiful that I want to slap myself as soon as it crosses my mind.
There’s a war going on, and you’re lonely? Priorities, asshole.
“Eres will be back soon.” Sera nudges my leg with her filthy boot, and I shoot her a mock-glare. She purses her lips. “Is His Highness still being a prick?”
“Careful,” I mutter. “They execute people around here for that kind of talk.”
She snorts. “If he tried, I’d push his head down the latrine like I did when we were ten.”
I almost retch at the memory. “He was furious.”
“And he’s furious now. But he’ll calm down.”
Sighing, I straighten. “Look, I appreciate the intervention, but it’s not necessary. He’s made his feelings clear.”
“To everyone apart from you, it seems.”
Leaning over, I mess up her neatly cropped hair before she yanks herself from under my arm with a scowl. “Do you charge for life advice, or should I be grateful I’m getting it for free?”
“You couldn’t afford me.” She attempts to fix her hair, straightening up. “Elspeth is waiting for me, you know.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Isn’t she the one that put you on your back in training last year?”
“I’m hoping she’ll do it again.” Sera grins widely, backing away. “Several times, in fact.”
I tip my finger to my head in a mock salute. “Enjoy yourself. If I don’t see you before you leave, take care.”
“You too.” She pauses, studying me a little too closely. “It will work itself out, you know.”
My eyes roll hard enough to cause a weather intervention. “Go.”
Sighing, I pull out my daggers again, twisting the onyx blades between my fingers as I turn back to the dummy. A shout from the side has me turning to look, watching as a group of familiar faces come riding through the gate at full speed before skidding to a stop.
My stomach flips, and I’m moving. Vaulting the sorry excuse for a fence, my boots eat up the ground until I reach them.
Eres addresses Nythen in a low, almost threatening tone that I’ve rarely heard from him, ignoring my approach. “I said no.”
“It’s not your decision,” the Council member blusters.
Beside him, Valcor eyes me with something akin to disgust before turning away, blanking my entrance as he always does.
Nythen gestures to whatever Eres is holding.
“An enemy in Umbraxis belongs in interrogation, and that is my area of expertise. She might be pretty, Eres, but she’s still a Lightbringer.
You kept her alive, and now I’m taking over. ”
Did he say—
I ease up beside Eres. He stiffens at my approach, backing away, and I hold up my hands. “Welcome back. Just curious. You found a Lightbringer?”
I don’t think we’ve ever found one alive. They’re far too careful with their injured to let them slip into our hands. Rumor has it they kill them rather than leave them to talk.
Eres eyes me warily. Behind him, Eldritch catches my eye, raising his own brows in answer to my silent question.
Something has him riled up. Protective.
“She’s not going anywhere aside from somewhere warm. If I’m to have any hope of saving her fucking hands—”
“I told you, she doesn’t need hands—”
“I knew you were a bastard, Nythen, but this level of cruelty is beneath you,” Eres hisses.
“We don’t have the luxury of kindness,” Nythen spits back. “Not when we’re already on our knees.”
My eyes fixate on the cloak in his arms as I ease closer. Eres tenses, glancing at me before focusing on Nythen again, clearly deciding that he’s the bigger risk. Slowly, I reach for the edge of the cloak and draw it back, intrigued.
I didn’t expect her to be awake.
I don’t know what I expected. But it wasn’t a large pair of eyes peering back at me, deep dark blown pupils surrounded by a glorious blazing ring of flames that flicker in the gaze that locks with mine.
I’ve never seen anything quite like them.
I’ve seen Lightbringer eyes before. Have seen them narrowed in anger, fading as the breath leaves their lungs. I’ve seen them choke on their own blood, felt their pulse fade beneath my fingers on more occasions than I could even try to count. I thought there wasn’t much to surprise me.
My mouth feels… dry. Swallowing, I sweep my eyes over her, assessing.
She doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. Her breathing is shallow, cheek pressed to Eres’s shirt.
I’ve never seen a Lightbringer with long hair, either, and the detail sticks in my mind as I examine her.
Her features don’t particularly stand out.
She has the hawkish brow, her nose a little too wide for her face, sharp cheekbones and full lips with bruising at the corners that I linger on a moment too long.
And then I go back to those eyes.
If I had to describe her expression, it would be… empty. No. Resigned.
When her eyes close, I take a step without even noticing. “Is she hurt?”
They all fall silent. Eres steadies her, voice hard. “Yes. Badly. She needs treatment, but Nythen wants to torture her instead.”
“We don’t have the luxury of waiting around for her to heal.” The words sound as though they’re being delivered through gritted teeth. When I shift, standing beside Eres, Nythen throws his hands up. “Perfect.”
“We have a Council quorum,” I point out. “There are four of us here. We can vote.”
And Nythen needs a majority, which means at least three votes. He glowers at me. “Fine. Motion to take charge of the prisoner for immediate questioning relating to Lightbringer activity.”
“No,” Eres mutters.
To my surprise, Valcor shakes his head. He keeps his gaze averted from the girl. “Let the healer work on her first. It might yield more.”
There it is.
When they turn to me, I shrug. “I agree with Valcor. We want useful intel, not the slurred words of a dying soldier.”
When Nythen steps forward, his eyes narrowed, I step in front of Eres. My hand raises, my response quiet. “We voted. It’s done. Remember you’re not the only one on the Council who can gather information, Nythen.”
And my methods are far less painful.
His lip curls back. “As if we could trust you to be truthful.”
I hold his gaze. “I could say the same of you.”