11. Strange Warmth
Strange Warmth
The crawlspace was tighter than she remembered.
Dust clung to her tunic, her curls, the crease of her elbows.
She pulled herself forward with quiet, measured breaths, careful not to jostle the thin bundle of notes she’d tucked into her sash.
Her knees ached. A stone's edge scraped her thigh through the fabric as she dropped to the lower exit hatch, boots slipping on the sloped stone.
But she was smiling.
None had sensed the Sokar crouched like a shadow in the rafters, bearing witness as she had done for nearly thirty years now.
If the Council knew she’d been keeping secret records of their meetings for that long, they would have had conniptions.
She would especially love to see Councilor Sevrion Hale writhing on the floor in shock at the revelation.
Auryn brushed grit from her palms and tucked her hair behind her ear, heart thumping with the adrenaline of triumph. Now she needed to make it back to the Resh’Agar’s wing without being seen. She squeezed into the service corridor beyond the tunnel, dropped into the final passageway…
And stopped.
Dead still.
Boots. Black. Armored. Planted like a warning at the tunnel’s mouth. Gleaming with faint residual heat, as though he’d used Raidō to get here. She couldn’t see past his knees due to the stone, and for a moment, Auryn scooted backwards and stayed where she was.
“Starlight,” came his voice, sharp at the edges. Warning.
She bit her lip, but stayed silent.
Do you honestly think I don’t see you hiding there?
She flinched when his gauntlet-covered hand appeared under the ledge.
Sighing, she took it and let him help her out into the corridor.
Somehow, he looked sharper than he had at Council.
Dust hadn’t dared settle on him. Meanwhile, she was covered in it.
Her stomach dropped as her gaze traveled up his frame, inch by inch, toward that perfectly still face.
Eyes like blue flame. Jaw clenched. Shoulders drawn tight beneath his half-fastened battle cloak with the Resh’Agar’s crest blazing over his shoulder.
His eyes roved over her.
The silence boomed.
“If your plan was to perch above the Council in secret while lying to your Bonded about resting,” he said, his voice too soft, “perhaps you should have silenced your restless thoughts first.”
A pause. His tone dipped—low and warning.
“They echoed. All the way through my spine.”
Auryn’s mouth opened, a flush creeping up her neck. “I—I didn’t mean to—”
“You didn’t mean to…what?” he cut in, stepping closer.
She took a step back, but there was nowhere to go. She straightened her spine and met his eyes.
“What do you mean Bonded?” she asked, hoping to steer him away from the obvious.
Is that not what you are to me, sweetfire?
Auryn shivered. She wasn’t ready to admit how wonderful it felt when his voice warmed her thoughts like this.
How else could you hear me like this if there is no Bond between us?
I just…hadn’t realized you’d given it a name like that. I still don’t understand how it’s possible. It didn’t make sense at Stonewake half a century ago, and it barely makes sense now.
Who are we to decide what magic makes sense and what doesn’t? I’d rather know why you conspired with your Attendant to deceive me.
His hand clenched at his side, half-formed into a fist. She couldn’t tell if he was angry, or holding something in. Maybe both.
Still, her voice was soft. Apologetic. “You weren’t supposed to know. I only sought to listen. I’d already missed several sessions...”
“Listen to what, exactly?” he asked, stepping close enough now for her to see the pulse tick in his temple. “To their insults? To the way they spit your title like a slur?”
He reached out and grasped the edges of her cloak, pulling it back to inspect her arms. His fingers brushed her scraped skin.
“You’re hurt.”
She exhaled. “Is that why you’re angry? This is nothing. Just a scrape.”
“It’s more than that to me.” He frowned. “It’s been only days since you fell. You said you would rest today. Instead, you thought to climb stonework and spy on the Council?”
Her voice trembled with frustration. “You keep me locked away like a relic. Of course I’m going to find a way out. Besides, this is not my first time doing this.”
“Your Attendant said as much.”
“Kail, you’re being too protective,” she accused.
“I’m keeping you alive,” he snapped.
“I managed that just fine on my own for a few decades,” she countered, though she couldn’t quite summon a shred of anger into the words. It wasn’t a fair thing to say, and she knew it well.
Forgive me. I didn’t mean that, she rushed to say in their minds.
The fire drained from his shoulders, and he reached out again, this time, slower. He brushed dirt from her cheek with the back of his knuckles.
“It wasn’t my intention to scold you. I want to carry you back. Bathe the scrapes from your knees. Rub salve into the rest. Tuck you into my bed and keep you there until I’m certain you’re well enough to face the next cataclysm with me.”
She laced her hand in his.
“If by that you mean the protest that Torven Rax will arrange against the Sokar’s new wing, then I’m ready now. I would like to see you make him ‘very uncomfortable’, as you promised today.”
She peeked up at him, giddy when his eyes softened and twinkled with a mischievous gleam.
“How long have you been doing this, Auryn?”
“A while…I’ve been keeping records of sessions. It felt like a way of fighting back against being excluded.”
“So, you’ve seen me there as well.”
She nodded. “You were different today.”
His hand smoothed against her cheek, slid down to her shoulders, then her waist. He tugged her closer. Embraced her.
“I’ve never barred you from joining Council, Auryn.
There’s no law against it. In fact, Doctrine would say you have a place at my side there.
But you must understand that involving yourself in these matters so publicly paints a target on your back.
And you already have enough of one that I can’t seem to eradicate. ”
Auryn pressed her cheek against the cold aethersteel of his chest plate. “I listen, but I yearn to speak. I just…haven’t found the courage to try.”
“I believe you could,” he admitted, fully sincere. “You are sharper than all of those half-blind fools. You know more of magic, to start. Not only that, but you see those you would rule.”
“I don’t want to rule. I just…want to be.”
They lapsed into silence.
Then be, Auryn. I will continue to carve a place for you here. If you want to speak, then speak. If you want to spend your days in my bathing pool eating fruits and delicacies, then I will buy you all the oils and sweets you desire.
Auryn giggled.
But the one thing I won’t allow is for you to burn yourself out. You are mine. My one selfish wish. I will not let you break. I will not let you leave me.
This world is cruel, Kailorien. You can’t protect me from everything. And…I will not leave you. You are my origin, my heart, and the future I’ve chosen.
Kailorien’s breath caught as though it was her own—sensed how those words settled in his chest like a vow spoken back through time. He leaned down, and she rose on her tip-toes to meet him.
He kissed her, wrapping his arms around her waist and lifting her against him.
A press of lips to lips. A breath shared.
And then—he froze.
Pulled away.
She blinked up at him, confused, until he snapped off his gauntlet and brought his bare hand upwards, cradling her jaw.
“Auryn.” His voice was low. Tight. “You’re warm.”
She tilted her head, puzzled. “Of course I am. You’re always cold after Council because they don’t have a fluxhearth. It’s much warmer in that passage.”
“No.” His fingers brushed her temple, then trailed down to her neck. His brows furrowed. “You’re feverish. I can feel it through your skin.”
Auryn moved back a step and crossed her arms. “It’s not a fever.”
His eyes narrowed. “It feels like one.”
“It isn’t. I promise. I’m simply warm. Not sick. You know full well this body doesn’t carry illness.”
He didn’t let it go. “Then what is it? Your wounds have healed, haven’t they? From the fall.”
“They did. That first night. This warmth, this heat—it happens now and again.”
She tried to make her voice sound offhanded, but the lines of tension in his shoulders only deepened.
“Now and again?” he asked, suspicious.
She sighed, brushing her hair back. “It’s truly alright. Maybe it’s the Priests’ rituals. Or something in the Jade Lattice. Magic clings here. Sometimes this body grows warmer. I feel more tired. My wounds heal more slowly.”
He stared at her as though seeing her in a new light, as if he could see the threads of mana beneath her skin.
“How often? Since when?”
“Every moon cycle or so since we first came to Krystopolis. Sometimes it doesn’t happen at all.”
Kailorien’s jaw tightened. She sensed his mind was elsewhere now. Strategizing. Predicting threat.
Auryn stepped forward, tension coiling in her stomach. “Kail…what is it?”
“It’s not possible,” he murmured. “But if it is…”
Speak to me. What are you thinking?
He let out a breath and rubbed the back of his neck, scratching at the scar there. “It’s probably nothing. And I don’t want to worry you, especially when you’re unwell.”
“Kail,” she said more firmly. “I am always unwell in your eyes. Even if the definition of that is a scrape on my arm that’s already healed.”
She gestured to the fading wound, already sealed. His gaze flicked to it, then back to her face. But he said nothing.
She reached for his hand again. “Your silence hurts. Mine does as well. It doesn’t belong between us.”
He spoke at last. Quiet. Hesitant.
“Auryn…if this happens every moon cycle…has it ever aligned with Estar?”
Her first instinct was to shake her head. “It’s possible, but it also happened when you were away and Estar wasn’t performed. I used to think it was something about the magic of the Shields. I’ve never seen the runework or the source of them, but I’ve wondered if—”
She stopped.
Because his expression had changed.
The stillness in him wasn’t discipline now. It was calculation. His eyes were locked on something invisible, internal, terrifying.
“Kailorien?” she whispered. “What is it?”
“Auryn…the Sokar is supposed to be the Resh’Agar’s counterpart. By Doctrine, she carries half of the Shields.”
She stroked her chin, thinking back on all of the texts she’d read on the topic. “Yes, but you and I both agreed before that this is just myth. There was never a ceremony to make me the Sokar. Nothing but an empty performance. Magic that complex would require blood, mana, essence—at the least.”
He nodded, but his expression didn’t change.
“Kailorien, you’re thinking too much on it. In order for me to have a connection to the Shields, a ritual would have had to be performed. Some way to tie me into the Runesgram or whatever mechanism powers them. That didn’t happen.”
She brought his palm to her cheek and nuzzled into it.
“This has happened to me for over half a century, and I have been alright through every instance of it. A little tired for a few days. Somewhat warmer than usual.”
His expression was skeptical, but his eyes focused elsewhere. The cleft in his brow deepened as he brought his hand up to look at a tear in her skirts.
“I should have brought up the topic of your stipend today. For now, we need to consult the tailors and have some dresses made for you. This is not acceptable.”
You’re avoiding the true concern. Kail, please trust what I say. Estar is days away. I’ll be fully back to being too cold for your comfort shortly after you return from it.
His eyes met hers again, and this time, Auryn was the one unsure. Those blue oceans of feeling were pained. Tired. Wary. She parted her lips to ask him what was wrong, but no words emerged. Even her thoughts didn’t dare ask why the mention of the ritual seemed to cause him such discomfort.
Silence didn’t belong between them.
They’d learned that through suffering.
But, in this moment, she let it stay; for banishing it seemed far more dangerous.