17. Mare
Mare
For all the years I'd known Ferris, I hadn't spent much time with him.
Laiserian had told me all I needed to know: 'my brother is a delinquent with a nasty alcohol habit and a penchant for trouble.'
Sighing, I gazed into the quiet stream, willing the water to give me answers.
Starlight had arrived on the second day. No matter what angle I tried to tackle 'beauty' from, no catalyst had revealed itself to me.
Ferris leaned beside the stream and splashed water over his face before shaking out his curls. He smoothed out his forest-green coat and side-eyed me.
"You know, I really didn't expect Cierthine to pick you.”
What a comfort. Even the worst Aenir had to offer didn't believe in me.
"Neither did I," I said with a bitter smile. "And I have you to thank for getting us killed.”
"You're most welcome.” He shook out his cloak and swung it around his shoulders. "But I don't intend to die just yet.” Winking, he trudged through the wet soil back to our camp.
Flicking the water from my hands, I followed him. Wetlands stretched as far as the eye could see. At least there was no shortage of rivers and ponds to wash off in.
Liam stood by his elk, eyes following the young prince. He stared for a long while, like the prince was a puzzle he could not decipher.
"See something you don't like?" I asked, joining him.
"No, I . . . " He trailed off. "They say he's the most powerful among the Paragons.”
Liam nodded toward Reese. The red-headed Solheart sat by his horse, sharpening his blade after our morning practice.
"Are you trying to comfort me?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Even had you found a little bit of magic, it wouldn't have made a difference.”
"Then why are you here?"
Liam glanced up at the stars. "I go where you go. Saints know you need me to keep you out of trouble.”
"You little—" I bit my tongue. "Just don't rob anyone in Gwynford.”
"Peasants," he retorted. "Don't have anything worth taking.”
"Not true.” Reese's warm voice startled me. He lowered his blade and shot me a smirk. "Some have family heirlooms stashed away.”
"Oh.” Liam smiled at him. "Duly noted.”
I couldn't believe a Paragon had said that.
"Don't encourage him!" I said, exasperated.
Reese hid a chuckle. "Let's get moving.”
The Paragon had said nothing today of my failure. Each time I'd spoken with him, I'd met his brilliance with feigned confidence and stature. But without even a grain of worth to back up my haughty attitude . . .
Reese might reconsider keeping me alive.
I climbed onto my elk and ordered it to follow Liam's. Leaning in the saddle, I watched its hooves splash through the muddy puddles.
Why couldn't I find my magic?
Reaching into my pouch, I pulled out the broken pocket watch Liam had given me a few years ago. Its needle spun in an endless circle, useless.
Fifteen years ago, Father had caught a child sticking a hand into his coin purse. He'd brought Liam home to live with us that night.
The thieving continued over the years. Liam never spoke of his life before, but one thing had been clear: he'd been stranded in Aenir, with no food, money, or shelter.
Reaching for a coin or bread had become a means to survive, a habit he struggled to kick even after finding a home.
When my little brother was seventeen, he’d gifted me a pocket watch: the first thing he'd bought with his own coin.
It broke not long after. But I'd always kept it.
I snapped it closed and pressed my fingers into the cold metal. Closing my eyes, I reached for the girl I'd been over a decade ago—the girl who hadn't realized she had been reduced to nothing overnight.
Who hadn't cared, and didn't pretend.
A horse whinnied ahead. Reese yanked his mare's reins, drawing her to a stop. The white horse pranced in place, like an excited puppy.
Leaning forward, I followed his gaze up to where a woman sat on a thick tree branch, neatly hidden in her dark purple cloak that melded with the night.
"What a surprise," she called. "For anyone to travel in these parts—let alone a Paragon.”
Elegant and lithe, she slid from her perch and dropped to the grass below. Striding toward us, she threw back her hood. Golden curls fell around her bronzed face. Piercing gold eyes broke up the night.
A Solheart.
Reese's white mare trotted toward the Solheart woman and lowered its head. Giggling, the woman rubbed the horse's snout.
Breaking my gaze from the Solheart, I focused on my teacher. Reese's jaw had clenched, and a vein on his neck ticked. "Bláth," he said. "What are you doing here?"
Tension swelled in his every word. These two had history—not all of it pleasant.
The Solheart woman—Bláth—wrapped her fingers around the white horse's reins and looked at me.
"Scouting. They say Galasvar was encircled before it fell.
And I heard there's a new Paragon. I wanted to meet her.” Releasing the horse, she approached me.
"We don't have time to linger. You need to see what lies ahead. "
Reese stared daggers at her back, eyes aflame. "Then, Gwynford still stands?"
"For now." She flashed me a grin, voice dripping with friendly charm. "I'd prefer to ride with a woman. Do you mind?"
"Not at all, my lady." I bowed my head in respect.
Reese yanked his reins and drove his horse into a gallop. Once the Solheart woman was seated behind me, I dug my heels into my elk.
"You were at Galasvar," Bláth called over the drumming hooves. "You saw what it looked like before they struck."
"I could recognize it again, if that's what you're asking," I said.
"Good." She grabbed my shoulder as my elk leaped over a puddle. "I take it the men have been giving you hell?"
"Plenty," I said. "I've been told to expect assassins."
"Not while Reese is here. Nobody's brave enough for that."
Swallowing, I glanced back. Forlaith—and their priests—decreed women lesser than men.
But they still carried holy blood. Should a lower-born man—a Stormborn or Earthborn, for example—dare attack a Solheart woman?
Forlaith would feed him to the dogs.
What was one of the Empire's elite doing here? A woman, alone, no less?
A bird's caw pierced the sky. High above, on a willow's branch, a crow with a missing talon perched.
Its beady eyes dug into my soul.
My heart rose into my throat.
"Mare!" Liam called from ahead.
Dragging my eyes from the crow, I felt my breath hitch.
There it was, again. Shadows, blanketing the sky, smothering the stars and moons. It rose like a high wall, promising doom to anyone who dared cross into the nether realm.
Would I see shapes dancing behind the veil, as I had in Galasvar?
I prayed to every god I knew—Aenir's ancient saints, and Forlaith's great Solathair—that I would not.
Sprawling fields of water-grown plants covered the wetlands. A beautiful crop that sprouted silver-blue flowers caught my eye. Several Muirashin farmers dressed in simple, baggy tunics, worked the fields.
Oblivious.
The town itself was quieter than expected—wooden buildings topped with three-tiered roofs clustered in uneven streets and squares. Muddy roads and the occasional bridge crossed between them, weaving around willows and plants covered in dew.
It felt like a dagger had been plunged into my heart, to think of this place being torn to pieces.
Undefended. Forgotten, at the edge of the world.
The great wall erected along the Ceorthan Shadowlands border stood tall, a blur from this distance. But it would not hold back the tide if Galasvar’s fortified defenses had not.
Reese turned his horse around when we passed through the gates. "Who's in charge here?" He snapped.
"The garrison captain." Bláth nodded her head east. "In the barracks."
"Mare." Reese turned to me, his voice far softer than when he'd addressed the Solheart. "Stay with Bláth. Make her tell you everything she knows."
"Easy enough," I said. "Take Liam, would you? Keep him out of trouble."
"Wouldn't I be leading him toward the best marks?" Reese smiled at me before riding off.
Liam shot me a parting glance and followed.
Ferris rode to my side—his elk was a beautiful spotted doe. "To the south, then?"
"Yes," I said, driving my steed forward.
I kept my gaze fixed ahead as we rode through the town. Several villagers paused and watched us pass, but I didn't look.
Disdain and outrage. That's what I'd see in their eyes.
Maybe a spot of wonder, for the Solheart among them.
Swallowing my fear, I chanced a glance around. A few women watched us, varying in age from young mothers to wrinkle-creased elders. They gathered around buckets and barrels of soapy water, washing clothes and blankets.
But I did not glimpse the hatred I'd expected. They merely watched, mildly interested.
Sometimes it was easy to forget that nobles mattered little to the average person. Kings were faraway thoughts in faraway places.
The Muirashin lord who owned this land had left them to die.
A wooden fence wrapped the southern border of the village. A guard stood watch beside its gate, though he didn't look like much. Old chainmail hung under his leather vest, but nothing more.
He was practically unarmored.
Seeing Bláth behind me, he shot to his feet and unlocked the gates, pushing them open for us. Nodding at him, I rode toward the gloom.
I stopped halfway between the town limits and the walls. Bláth leaned forward. "Well?"
A heavy weight formed in my gut and pulled me down. I saw them: shapes moving behind the shadows, like a school of fish churning the waves of the sea.
Humming trembled across the earth, faint, almost inaudible.
Those eyeless dragons: singing, far in the distance.
“Saints," Ferris breathed, eyes darting around the shadows. "It's like the Shadowlands themselves are alive."
"Then we don't have much time." Bláth touched my arm. "At least we have two Paragons here."
The Solheart watched me expectantly. She wanted me to turn my elk around, to ride back. Ferris did the same, pulling his reins to return.
The lead ball in my stomach felt like it ripped free of my skin, and my voice slid out with it. "I'm no help. I can't even use magic."
Ferris whipped around. "Liam said you found your catalyst."
My little brother was covering for me, concealing my disgrace from the royal among us.
Maybe he wasn't all bad.
Bláth eyed me. Golden beacons dug into my skin, seeing past the surface. She nodded and slipped off my elk. "Do you have any idea what your catalyst might be?"
Her voice was warm, gentle. Prodding, like a teacher. It calmed my nerves.
Swinging my leg over the saddle, I dismounted. "Beauty. Liam thought it might have something to do with that."
"Something abstract." Bláth placed a hand on her hip. “I know a few with catalysts like that. They were not easily found." Her voice lowered. "But you need to find it. Now."
Ferris leaped off his elk and circled me. His gaze lingered on my chest. For a moment, I thought he ogled my small but noble breasts. Looking down, I realized he was studying the Tirnanog Insignia on my breastplate.
"Ten years ago . . . " Ferris mused. "Laiserian said you made a scene at court—demanded Father send men to reclaim Tirnanog."
That had not been my finest hour. Clearing my throat, I glanced away. "That's ancient history, Ferris."
"Is it?" He raised an eyebrow, emerald eyes locking with mine. "You seem to care a great deal about it. In fact, I'd wager that's why you've been making eyes at my brother."
Startled, I hesitated before answering. Ferris had seen through me? Ferris, the black sheep of the royal family?
"Aren't you supposed to be a drunken failure?" I retorted.
The jab dug into Ferris—I saw him wince, and I regretted the words. But he recovered quickly. "I think of myself more as a drunken savant."
Bláth's eyes gleamed. "Tirnanog Myrmidons," she breathed.
"What about them?" I asked.
"You never would have seen them; you were too young." Bláth stepped closer. "But you must know how they fight."
Father appeared in my mind. His pale eyes glowed with nostalgia as he spoke of Mother—a proud myrmidon before ascending the throne.
‘Myrmidons moved with grace, like birds in flight,’ Father had said. He'd taught me one of their moves: the thrust mother had won their duel with.
I ripped Cierthine from its hilt and tightened my hands around it—right hand against the guard, like Reese had taught me.
Ferris scrambled away, as though he knew what was coming.
I'd imitated Father countless times in my youth, yearning to be like my mother. I knew these steps by heart.
Lightning and wind hastened Tirnanog Myrmidons' steps, and though I had none . . .
I dove forward, with delicate steps, like I was performing a deadly dance. Picturing an imaginary foe, I spun around, knocking his blade from his hand before thrusting through his broken guard.
The uniform my mother had once worn swirled around me, like a ballroom gown sweeping across the dance floor.
Violet light surged on Cierthine's length and crackled with violent energy. Thunder boomed overhead, and lightning swirled in the sky, mimicking my movements.
Three strikes burst from the sky and pounded into the ground ahead of me, following the steps of a waltz.
My catalyst flared to life, and as magic swirled to life in my veins for the first time, the answer seemed so obvious.
I lifted my gaze to the sky, where the bright lightning pierced the dark curtain guarding the Shadowlands.
Illuminating the dragon, wings outstretched, that waited just out of sight.