39. Golden Breath #2
As Zarrek began explaining the logistical breakdown of how the Reskala were managing survivors, Kailorien noticed Auryn's awkward posture. Without interrupting, he reached down, pulled one of the smaller cushions closer, and slid it under her knees. His hand lingered there a beat longer than needed, thumb brushing her calf before returning to rest on the divan’s arm.
She didn’t look at him, but her shoulders eased. “Was the weapon retrieved?”
“We have the core,” Zarrek confirmed. “Not much left.”
Enough to investigate, I hope. Auryn looked at Kailorien.
We’ll make it enough. I have it under guard. We’ll find a way.
“And the attackers?” she asked out loud.
“Dead,” Zarrek grimaced. “Most runed their tongues. Blood magic.”
Blood magic isn’t anything new, but I’ve never seen the Solutus this violent and determined. Not even the radicals.
Kailorien's lips thinned into a tense line. Something tells me we haven’t seen all they’re capable of yet.
They went back and forth like this for several more exchanges—words above the surface, sharper truths in the Bond beneath.
Finally, Zarrek’s eyes narrowed. “Voids’ sake, will you two stop going mute mid-sentence? It’s unsettling watching you stare at each other like statues.”
Auryn raised a brow. “If silence unsettles you, Zarrek, I could ask Lu’ma to beat on a drum.”
He gave a short, barking chuckle. Lu’ma’s lips curled—the smallest betrayal of amusement.
“It’s unsettling. That’s all. Since when did you two start reading each other’s minds?”
Kailorien shifted his weight, keeping contact with Auryn.
“It makes Council more entertaining,” Auryn smiled. “And tolerable.”
Zarrek crossed his arms. “Guessing it’s part of that trick you pulled with mana in the tunnels?”
Kailorien nodded, squeezing Auryn’s hand. That gold breath…it’s harder to reach than the azure. Like it’s buried behind more walls.
Stop using it for me if it strains you, my love.
Kailorien’s gaze sharpened. I’ll keep using it until I understand why it’s there. I won't ever let you be hollow again.
As long as I have you beside me, I will never be.
Lu’ma rose, crossed the room, and planted herself between Zarrek and the divan like a living barrier. Her hands moved with efficiency. 'It is time to leave, Scarred One.'
Zarrek gave her a suspicious stare. “You don’t get to say when I’m dismissed.”
“You’re dismissed,” Kailorien said without missing a beat.
Auryn nudged him on the arm. “Kail, what’s gotten into you? Zarrek wasn’t finished.”
“I was, actually,” Zarrek said, scratching his head. “This one’s grown too uppity, even in training.”
He glared at Lu’ma.
She glared back. 'His Quintessence wants to be alone with Her Radiance now. You are interfering.'
Zarrek arched a brow. “Do I get a translation of that, or should I guess?”
Her hands cut the air again. 'When His Quintessence makes the blue mist for Her Radiance, it is not just breath that joins.'
Zarrek blinked. Then, slowly, a grin curled his mouth. He tilted his body so he could look past Lu’ma at the two of them. “So that’s why you were both so moon-eyed afterward.”
Auryn’s ears burned. Kailorien’s head lifted, the warning in his voice low and precise. “Careful, Zarrek.”
The Reskala captain held up his hands in mock surrender, but the grin stayed as he backed toward the sparring ring door.
Kailorien settled more fully beside Auryn, arm curling around her shoulders.
Still too cold. Rest.
Her eyes half-lidded, she leaned into him. Only if you stay.
The fluxlight caught in his hair as he pressed his temple to hers. “Always.”
Lu’ma picked up a few empty trays and bowed, 'Your Radiance. Please call if this Nameless is needed.'
The curtain whispered shut behind her, and the last echo of her footsteps faded.
In Zarrek and Lu’ma’s absence, the quiet swelled around them like warm water, thick and heavy with everything unsaid.
Kailorien watched her, his gaze roving over every subtle tremor in her fingers, the stubborn set of her mouth, the pale cast lingering in her skin.
You’re depleted, the words curved into Auryn’s mind, warm as the breath that stirred the hair near her temple.
And you’re looming over me like a sentinel, she sent back, trying for sharpness but unable to hide the small curl of comfort that wrapped around the thought of him standing guard.
He crouched, his hand lifting to cup her jaw. If I am your sentinel, starlight, it is because the thought of you being caught up in this war is too heavy even for my shoulders.
Auryn held his gaze, unyielding. I am your Sokar, and I will not be tucked away in the Lattice while my city falls apart.
Something in him shifted—a tightening of his shoulders, the glint in his eyes sharpening into resolve.
"Auryn, you knew the Riven. What was your conflict with him?"
She blinked, surprised. "The Riven? You mean…Ro? I believe that is what the golden feathered Glider called him."
A flare of disbelief pulsed through the Bond from Kailorien, and Auryn tilted her head.
"What is it?"
"Starlight, he is the Riven. You cannot call him by his name."
"Why not? The other Glider did."
He rubbed at his temple then ran a hand through his hair. "She was not just a Glider. That was a Skywhisperer."
Auryn straightened. "I have read of them. They are very rare."
He nodded. "I cannot imagine how the Nestings allowed her to leave their territory. The Shamans could not have allowed it."
"Perhaps that is why she has the Riven here with her. And now, with the Han destroyed—"
She gasped, her entire body tightening as though lightning had struck her.
"Stars!" Auryn threw her legs off the side of the bed and surged to her feet. Her hands reached up to grasp the golden braid at her shoulder, fingers brushing the violet ribbon there.
"Stars above, Kail…I've just remembered…the Riven…it cannot be, but…is it the same Riven that the Blades worshipped?" She gripped the braid so tightly that her knuckles went white. "Thessia…she…promised to tell me the story, but… "
Her throat tightened, then sealed shut. She couldn't speak another word.
Not through the pain of loss, which hovered far too near.
Kailorien looked at her, his eyes empathetic but unknowing.
Even after all the stories she'd told him of the Lioness, he hadn't recovered the memories of Thessia that the Rite of Scars had taken.
Auryn…
No. Do not say a thing.
She wrapped her arms around him, pressing his ear to her chest.
One day, you will remember. Until then, this is enough. You are enough.
They did not move for some time, allowing Auryn's grief and mourning in the Bond to settle evenly between them. When she pulled back, she took a seat again, deflated. So what if it was the same Riven? He was hostile and unpredictable. Not someone they could rely on as a potential ally.
We are fighting alone against a gale, she sighed in the Bond.
The appearance of the Riven and a Skywhisperer simultaneously in the city does not bode well.
"You act as though you know him," she said. "Ro…"
He frowned at her use of his name again. "I know the Riven. I fought beside him, once."
"But…are the Gliders not a Matriarchy? Males are not warriors. They tend the nest. Raise children."
"Not the Riven. He stands apart."
"Why? Is he stronger than the others?"
His frustration mounted, but he did not voice it. Without another word, he slid back against the cushions, pulling her into his lap in one swift, decisive movement.
"Starlight, if your eyes seek out new horizons, I will never hold you prisoner against my shore. But not this one. He is dangerous, more than you could imagine."
"Kail…" She pushed against his chest. "What are you saying? I never meant—"
His hand settled between her shoulder blades. "I am saying that I do not like his name upon your lips."
He took her hand, guiding it to his chest. Beneath her fingers, his heart raced. No longer steady. No longer quiet.
"Kail…"
He terrified me. Those wings. Those talons. I thought he would cleave me in half. And you speak of shores and horizons…
Kailorien stilled. An expression crossed his features. A shadow brightening into helplessness. He pulled her closer. Gently, now. Ever so gently.
Forgive me. I am a brute, he said through the Bond. As always.
Auryn couldn't help the relieved laugh that left her chest. She shifted, running the pads of her fingers against his emerald earring.
But you are mine, regardless.
Only yours, he swore just as his mouth found hers, the melding of their lips deep from the first touch. The Bond lit, a low thrum resonating through her chest, the first faint thread of mana slipping into her like the promise of a sunrise.
I can taste that strange golden light in you, he breathed between kisses.
Her fingers twisted into his shirt. A distraction, she recognized, but one she gladly allowed.
I want more.
The low groan that rumbled against her mouth was half pleasure, half warning. You know what you’re asking for.
“I always do,” she whispered aloud.