CHAPTER THIRTEEN
B LOOD COATS MY HANDS. Its sticky warmth drips down my flesh as a steel blade slices across my skin again, contrasting the frigid winter air. This time it was because they found my stash of dried food from my hunting excursions and didn’t share it with the rest of the village, on top of leaving without permission. It’s not like they’d give permission to me anyway, happy to watch me starve away to dust. It’s why I always had to sneak out.
The searing, dull blade rips through my flesh again. Only the fates and I know they purposely don’t sharpen these weapons for this exact reason. I’m only grateful that they aren’t using ones of iron this time, opting for blades of silver instead. Small miracles I suppose. At least these won’t scar unless he goes too deep again, and the healer doesn’t tend to them.
Elric stares at the blade, beads of ruby rolling down the stained metal. “Are you ever going to learn, null?” he seethes. “Maybe we should just leave you tied permanently to this pole. Maybe then you would get the idea that you can’t leave this village without permission.”
I don’t reply, I can’t reply.
“Maybe we should kill that nasty bird of yours that always seems glued to your side,” he taunts, watching my blood drip into the snow below.
Nero appears in his hand, flapping wildly, but Elric doesn’t let go no matter how hard he struggles.
“No, don’t kill him. Please. I’ll do anything !” I beg, pulling against the iron chains, trying to crawl towards them, stones cutting into my knees the more I fight to get closer.
Nero calls out to me, his panic overwhelming me, causing my pulse to hammer in my ears. I try to move closer again, my ripped tunic catching on my hands. I lose purchase and face-plant into the muddy snow, gasping with fear as I cry out for him.
Elric leers, his disgusting gaze dragging along my bloodied frame, stopping on the panicked expression etched onto my face. “No, because you see null , you already have to do anything we require. Maybe this will finally break you of those pesky old habits and that sanctimonious sense of superiority.”
The knife drags across Nero’s throat, blood running down his dark plumage, splattering into the snow with a sizzle. His black eyes lose the light in them, fading to a dull hue, and his cawing quiets, only echoing in the recesses of my mind.
“Nero!” I cry, my voice breaking as my throat becomes raw. Tears soak down my face, turning pink as they mix with the blood that coats my flesh.
“ Come here, Little Dream let me help, let me take your fears away ,” a voice whispers, silencing my cries as everything around me melts into a familiar view of white flowers and sprawling mountains in the distance.
I take a deep breath, digging my fingers into the frozen soil beneath where I’m sitting, grounding myself with the pain.
It was just a dream, I repeat to myself as I breathe through the now fading panic. Nero is fine, he’s most likely sleeping beside me in his nest on the perch. Although the urge to wake up and make sure is riding me hard, yet no matter how hard I try to wake up I can’t.
It’s peculiar that I always seem to become lucid when I dream of this place. It feels like a piece of home, but from what I remember of home, though, this definitely isn’t it. It’s a feeling without the visual memory of the place, faded with time.
A familiar white dragon soars down from the mountains and into the field, taking up its usual spot in the meadow amongst the flowers. Being so close to the dragons at Phixmery have given me an appreciation for them, especially since one of them saved me from splattering myself across the rock- and snow-barren land.
The dragon watches me in return, our normal song and dance. I’ve never spoken to it; I’m not even sure if it can speak. But it’s my dream, so anything is possible, right?
My thoughts form on my lips and before I realize what’s happening, my voice quietly echoes around the field. “Why do I keep coming here? Is it because even in my dreams, I can’t stand the sight of my past?” I ask quietly, mostly to myself but hoping by some miracle the beast replies. It’d be sad to be speaking to myself in my dreams. Maybe I can use this lucidness to work through my plans without having to worry about not getting enough sleep. I would just need to figure out how to get here more often.
The dragon eyes me curiously, with a spark of intelligence that reminds me of visiting with my mother’s bonded dragon, or at least the feeling that correlates with the memory. Stupid brain and repressed thoughts.
“ You’re here because I can’t stand watching you suffer your fears in your dreams ,” the beast rumbles, “ no matter how exaggerated they are. You’re safe where you are .”
My brows furl together in confusion. Why would a dream figure not want to watch fears and past memories play out? He must be delusional if he thinks I’m safe at Phixmery. “No, I’m going to flee. I made a promise to stay hidden and that’s what I’m going to do.”
The dragon chuffs, snowy frost billows from its snout. “ Yes, you need to stay hidden until it’s over and it’s safe to come home. You should rest, Little Dream. I’ll keep watch and keep your demons at bay .”
His words cause a drowsiness to come over me, and I lie down amongst the white petals and snow, watching the dragon as a yawn escapes and the dream slowly fades to darkness.
THE SCENT OF decaying parchment and scroll fills my nose as I stride into the library, finally having the permission to view the tomes and texts on familiar bonds. Captain Reiner was ecstatic that I wanted to look into it before supplying him with an answer. I think he thinks it means I’m leaning towards yes—which I am—but not if any of the information in here will give anyone anything to use against us.
Segments of the dream I had last night drift through my mind. No, I won’t let anyone harm him. Ever. My fingers drift up to him, perched on my shoulder, and he nibbles on my finger. His sharp beak is a comforting feeling.
“ It was just a dream, Rav. Nothing is going to happen to me. Let’s just focus on learning about us, hm? ” He flutters his wings in excitement, bobbing his head a few times.
My breath blows out hard as I try to let his fear-assuaging words sink in. “ You’re right, I just don’t want anything happening to you. It would kill me. ”
Nero nuzzles my cheek as I approach the desk with the old cantankerous female. “Here is the permission you requested so I can see the texts on bonds,” I state, handing her the letter Captain Reiner wrote out for me after his lesson today.
She takes it, eyeing Nero and I askance, before grabbing the silver letter-opener and cracking the wax stamp on the scroll. She reads it over a few times, her gaze growing comically large with each pass. “He really is a familiar,” she whispers in awe, her face completely transforming from her usual surly expression into something of wonder. She clears her throat. “Right this way, Cadet Solace.”
She rises from her desk, her skirts billowing around her as she starts off down the aisle I just came from, each thump of her combat boots sounding far too loud for such a studious place. Nero and I glance at each other before I hurry to catch up with her.
We follow her to two grand doors, which she unlocks, gesturing for us to go inside before following us in and locking the doors again.
“This is where we keep texts that are restricted unless you have permission. Now if you and your familiar would follow me, I’ll get you set up with everything we have on bonds,” she states with an air of wonder and excitement.
“His name is Nero,” I tell her with a small smile and watch as her eyes light up.
She dips her head towards him. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Nero.”
He dips his feathered head in return and she brings us to one of the tables in the center of the grand room before scurrying off to the shelves.
Artifacts, texts, tomes, and more are organized around the space on shelves and in display cases. The rich woods and elegant interior of the room bring a sense of scholarly knowledge, like being in the same vicinity as all this information makes you feel as if you’re just absorbing it all just from being in the same room.
Much like the rest of Phixmery, this area embodies the dark sense of wonder the rest of the castle holds: elegant designs embossed onto wood near the ceilings of the shelving, rich, deep browns and black wood, everywhere tables, chairs, display cases and more.
Nero bops the bottom of my chin and my jaw slams shut. “ You’re drooling, Rav ,” he teases.
“ Am not. ” But I wipe the back of my hand across my mouth, just to be safe. Though, I can’t help but peer more at my surroundings.
A tome thudding in front of me snaps me out of my daydream-like perusal of the space. Dust whooshes up and I sputter as I try to swat it away.
“Alright, this is everything we have on bonds. You should be able to find something in there,” she says firmly, tapping the cover. “If you can’t, then I can send word out and see if any of the other military academies might.” She turns away before spinning back. “Oh and please don’t try to take anything off the shelves. I will be alerted immediately if you do, and you won’t be welcome back, no matter what kind of permissions you get. Not even I can override magick like that, and you don’t want to discover the repercussions. I’ll come check on you in an hour’s time.” And with that, she disappears out the door and locks me in the room.
Nero hops off my shoulder onto the table in front of me, getting a closer look at the text. Its hard, black cover is simple with the title ‘ Bonds of Damorleia ’ by: Alfredick Nuton. It’s about two fingers thick, and I’m careful as I crack it open to the first page. Yellowed parchment and dark grey ink—that was most likely once black—greets me.
I slowly sift through the pages, looking for anything on familiar bonds. I see information about bonds with golems;,clay creatures brought to life to do your bidding. Bonds with fae and other beings based on blood, promises and destiny.
My eye catches on a whole section regarding mate bonds. They’re rare and snap together in the light of great peril or danger. A precious and revered bond, a love like no other connecting a group of fae together for life.
I scoff. Maybe this book is just full of fairy-tales and fledgling stories.
With a sigh, I keep going.
Then it has the connections between Dragon and Gryphon Riders, who bond for life, similar to but different from familiar bonds, which is then followed by words in quotations: ‘See page ninety-seven’ . With quick work of my fingers, I open it to the suggested page and notice the heading: Bonds with Familiars.
Familiar bonds are the ultimate friendship between beast, fae and the fates themselves. Like dragons and gryphons, familiars can speak to their chosen fae or being. Both these types of bonds are to the death, and while a gryphon or dragon may be able to survive without their rider if the bond is newer, the moment a familiar bonds to their fae or being, both of them are eternally tied to each other. One cannot live without the other. Familiars are able to share aether with their bonded and give them a boost in healing and their magick with practice.
The rest goes on to list how eventually we could see what each other sees, but warns against doing it in unsafe environments because the one viewing won’t be aware of anything going on around them.
I continue to read through the section, informing Nero of my discoveries, and the excitement between our bond grows. We are capable of so much more than just speaking to each other, and sensing each other.
“ So what do you think? Should we do it? ” I ask Nero nervously, wanting his opinion.
He hops closer to me, taking a moment to think about my answer. “ I don’t see the harm in it. I say we do it. We just need to mention not to bring up the part where if one of us dies, we both do. I don’t want a target put on our backs. ”
Nodding in agreement, I close the book, and as I rise from my chair, the librarian opens the door. “Did you find everything you were looking for?” she inquires.
“Yes, thank you. Did you want me to just leave this here?” I gesture towards the text.
She nods. “Yes please, I’ll put it back in its proper place shortly. You better get moving though. Dinner is almost finished. If you hurry you may still be able to get something to eat.”
I thank her again and hurry out of the library towards the dining hall, not realizing that so much time had already passed. When I arrive, the hall is mostly cleared out and no one from my squad is here. They’re most likely in the kitchens getting started on dish duty that Evera managed to score us. At least it wasn’t me.
Grabbing a tray, I manage to snag some roast and carrots before sitting at the nearest empty table and eating as quickly as I can, sharing my food with Nero.
My skin prickles with awareness and instantly I raise my gaze to see Sergeant Verlice watching me, none of the rest of his squad in sight. He picks up a carrot on his plate and slowly places it in his mouth, his gaze never leaving mine, and I can’t seem to look away.
He leans back in his chair, a coy and snide smirk playing on his lush lips. I lick mine, and he watches the movement.
Suddenly he’s up and out of his seat, storming out of the dining hall.
What in the fates was that about? I rub my sternum, putting that strange encounter to the back of my mind and hurrying through the rest of my meal, wrapping a few pieces of dried meat in a cloth to add to the stash I’ve been compiling within an abandoned part of the tunnels, at least until I can find a more permanent place to hide stuff for our escape.
This being my second time helping in the kitchen, I find my way into the hidden entrance and navigate the dimly lit tunnel, hoping I don’t miss the exit. Thankfully someone comes through and I’m able to slip in.
It’s bustling in here as they prep for the morning meal and clean up from dinner. I make my way over to Ember and Rozen, slipping my hands into the warm soapy water to help wash the enormous pile of dishes waiting for us.
It’s never-ending.
As I suppose it would be, as they feed about eight thousand soldiers-in-training.
“Where were you?” Ember hisses.
I raise my brow at her. “At the library. I thought we didn’t need to be here until the end-of-dinner bell rings?” Just as I finish the sentence, said bell tolls, making me grin victoriously.
Rozen chimes in, shaking his head with disapproving mirth. “Evera is on a warpath. You were the only one not here at dinner with us and she thought you were trying to skip out. She’s blaming you for this.”
My hands still, and I rest them on the edge of the sink, suds and water dripping off of them. “How in the fates is she blaming this on me? She’s the one who pissed off Sergeant Craven yesterday morning. Everyone heard that!”
His shoulders rise to his elongated ears and drop. “I have no idea. We just wanted to give you a heads up.”
A loose strand of hair falls into my face and I blow it out of the way, and when that doesn’t work I use the back of my forearm, still managing to get gross dish water on my face. “Well, thanks,” I mutter.
We get into the pace of washing, drying and putting away at our station, falling into an easy silence while a few of the females in the kitchen feed Nero fruit when they walk past. The kitchen fae—because I refuse to call them nulls just because they’re magick-less—love him. And he adores them too, or at least all the little snacks he’s getting while we’re here.
“ We should try to get dish duty more often ,” he announces.
A chuckle escapes me, making Rozen and Ember side-eye me with curious glances. “ You don’t have to lift a wing, you only like it here because of the food, so unless you’re helping, it’s not happening. ”
He clucks. “ Ah, you’re such a wet blanket sometimes Rav.
Watch out! ”
I barely have a moment before I’m shoved against the trough sink and have water being shoved into my face by a water Elemi. There’s a scuffle behind me and the water lets up, my eyes stinging with soapy water. As I spin, I see Lennox Adair sporting a bruising eye and Evera comforting him while glaring at the three of us.
“He was just having some fun. Plus, she smelled; if anything he helped her,” she sneers.
Oh, what a bitch. “Drowning someone is fun? Please elaborate? If not, I want to get this done so I can get to bed.”
She laughs, and the high pitched fake tone grates on my eardrums. “Well maybe if you stayed the hell away from my chosen mate then we wouldn’t be here to begin with.”
My face wrinkles in confusion as I glance at Rozen and then Ember, who appear to be just as flabbergasted as I am. “Um, these are the only two I really talk to. I don’t even know who you’re talking about.” I explain what is hopefully a misunderstanding. I don’t need this drama, and I’m definitely not interested in any of the males here.
“ Lies, ” Nero chimes in.
I ignore him.
“Sergeant Talyn Craven. I saw the way he kept looking at you. Don’t lie. Stay the hell away from him,” she hisses. “Cresida was right about you. You pretended to be a null for attention, and now you’re doing the same thing by going after other females’ partners. Stay on your side of the carriage,” she huffs, flicking her long black hair over her shoulders before she and Adair move back over to their washing station, Adair with a slightly puzzled expression on his face, Evera not letting me get a word in edgewise.
My eyes flick around the room and I see the kitchen staff and the rest of our squad staring at me. My gaze meets Bracken’s and he appears disappointed before turning around and getting back to work.
I shake my head, ignoring the whispers that are already starting up. From now on I’m sticking to not reacting to her shit. Hopefully by tomorrow all this is forgotten and I can go back to keeping my head down.