Chapter Thirty-Five
ELYSSARA
Apparently, I’m going training with Jax.
.. right now. Kael escorts me back to my room, where he instructs me to change into my fighting leathers and the new boots he left in place of my barely held together ones.
The memory of him delicately removing those boots last night flashes through my mind, stirring something I can’t quite name—desire? Trust? Warmth? Perhaps all of those?
Now that we’re alone, an intensity crackles between us. The playfulness of the group fades, replaced by something raw and focused. Our eyes meet briefly, then dart away, as though pretending we both don’t feel this. Whatever this is.
Kael breaks the silence with that infuriating half-smirk. “Did you have a fight with the lamp this morning, El?”
I sigh, already regretting the confession. “Unexpectedly, yes. I was... thinking about last night. Probably a result of that whole heightened emotions thing.” I look away, heat creeping into my cheeks.
“Every Starborn has been there, El. Controlling magic as strong as yours isn’t simple, nor is it easy. Jax will help a lot with that.” His words are meant to reassure me, but the mention of Jax only tightens the knot of unease in my stomach.
I slip behind the changing partition, my heart pounding as I pick up the leathers.
The soft, supple material feels inviting and unyielding under my fingers, a perfect blend of elegance and resilience.
“So,” I call over my shoulder, “what exactly is a Luminaar? I’ve heard stories of their power but don’t know the specifics. I actually thought they were a myth.”
Kael clears his throat. “Luminaars don’t have magic of their own. They alchemize what they borrow—reshape it, bend it. They're not the strongest in any one kind, but they’re fluent in them all. That’s what makes Jax a brilliant trainer—she understands magic better than anyone alive.”
I tug on the pants, their tailored fit hugging my legs as though made for me alone. “How does that even happen? What constellation was Jax born under?” My voice carries more irritation than curiosity.
“Luminaars are born from bloodlines, not constellations, Duskae. There’s more to magic than what you were taught in Virellin. Jax is the last known Luminaar. She knows how to control the chaos of every constellation.”
The weight of his words stuns me. “So, her parents...?”
“Her mother was a Luminaar. And no, they’re no longer with us.” His tone hardens, but after a pause, he adds, “They were advisors to the true King—King Aurius—before he was usurped by Maldrak. He killed anyone who wouldn’t bend the knee to his rule.”
I step out from behind the partition, my new leathers molding to my body like a second skin. “I’m sorry for Jax,” I say softly. “This world is unjust. It might be foolish, but I hope to correct that—for all of us who’ve lost too much.”
Kael doesn’t answer. His gaze rakes over me, lingering in a way that sends heat prickling across my skin. He drags a hand through his hair and exhales slowly. “There is nothing sexier than a beautiful woman who fights for a cause she believes in.”
The directness of his words steals my breath. Before I can respond, he steps back, his smirk returning. “Jax will be here in a moment. She’ll take you out of the village to start training.”
Kael leads me to the rear of the inn where Jax awaits.
Without a word, she leads me to a clearing just outside the village.
The air is crisp, the storm’s approach evident in the way the wind carries a sharp edge.
Dark clouds roll in the distance, their slow churn mirroring the turmoil inside me.
She doesn’t waste time with pleasantries, diving straight into explanations of magic and its volatile nature.
“Magic is chaos,” she begins, pacing in front of me with a deliberate intensity.
“It’s raw, unbridled energy. Each constellation’s chaos expresses itself in a different way, but it all starts out as chaos.
If you try to suppress it, it will find a way to escape.
You have to guide it, shape it, or it will destroy you. ”
I swallow hard, the memory of the Frael Forest flashing through my mind—the way my magic had surged uncontrollably, leaving ash and devastation in its wake. My throat tightens. “And can you teach me to control it?”
Jax stops pacing and looks at me, her piercing gaze pinning me in place. “I can show you how to turn things to ash when you actually mean it, yes.” There’s a glint of amusement in her eyes, like she knows I’m one wrong word away from wanting to turn her to ash.
Before we begin, Jax places her hands firmly on the ground, her expression shifting to one of deep concentration.
A faint ripple spreads outward from her fingers, like the surface of a pond disturbed by a single drop.
The air around us thickens, humming with an unseen energy.
Slowly, a translucent dome shimmers to life, enclosing the clearing in a faint, silvery glow.
It sparkles like Lightborne magic caught in a glass sphere, but its presence feels heavy, anchoring us to the earth.
“This is a Nullveil,” Jax says, standing and brushing the dirt from her hands.
Her voice is even, but there’s a flicker of pride beneath the surface.
“A Luminaar technique. It insulates magic—no detection, no eavesdropping. Whatever happens here stays here.” She narrows her eyes at me, her tone sharpening.
“It’s not easy to maintain, so don’t waste my effort by holding back.
If you lose control, the Nullveil will protect us, so I expect your best. Understood? ”
She crouches again, this time picking up a handful of dirt and letting it sift through her fingers.
“The first lesson is this: magic is like this soil. It has potential. You can let it run loose, blown away by the wind, or you can compress it, give it form.” She clenches her fist, and the loose soil transforms into a compact stone in her palm.
“The key is to connect with it, feel it, and shape it into what you want—not what it wants to become.”
I glance at the stone in her hand, then back at her. “And if I can’t shape it?”
Her smirk sharpens. “Then you’ll be chaos, and all of us will have done this for nothing. So, let’s not, hm?”
The training is grueling. Jax starts by having me close my eyes and focus on the sensation of my magic—the pulse of it, buried deep beneath the surface.
“Stop trying to control it outright,” she commands.
“Feel where it’s pulling you. Magic isn’t a slave to be whipped into submission. It’s an ally you negotiate with.”
I take a deep breath, tuning in to the sensation.
It’s like trying to grasp a whirlwind. It flares and spirals, shifting direction faster than I can follow.
My hands tremble as I try to channel it into something steady, but all I can manage is a flicker of light in my palm before it fizzles out. Frustration gnaws at me.
“Not bad for a beginner,” Jax says, though her tone is far from reassuring. “Again.”
Hours pass. Each time I try, the magic resists, pushing against me like a river raging against its banks.
Jax doesn’t let up, forcing me to keep going, even when I’m on the verge of collapse.
“Feel the chaos. Let it move through you. Then, shape it. It’s like a wave in the ocean—you don’t force it to stop; you flow with it. ”
Eventually, she steps behind me, her hands firm on my shoulders. “Your breath controls everything,” she says, her voice low and steady. “Inhale, feel the magic rise. Exhale, guide it where you want it to go. Don’t think. Just feel.”
I close my eyes, tuning out everything but her words and the rhythm of my breath.
The magic stirs, wild and hot, but instead of panicking, I let it flow.
My pulse races as I guide it, tentatively shaping it into something tangible.
A faint shimmer of Lightborne magic dances in my palm, steady and beautiful.
“Good,” Jax murmurs. “Now, hold it. Don’t let it collapse.”
The moment I let doubt creep in, the light explodes into sparks, sending a burst of energy outward. I stumble back, but Jax doesn’t flinch. “Not bad. You held it longer than I expected. But don’t get cocky—you’re nowhere near ready.”
During a break, I gather the courage to ask her about Kael. Her expression softens slightly, a rare crack in her usual stoicism. “We grew up together. Our parents were... close. We have mutual goals. That’s all.”
“Mutual goals?” I press, sensing more to the story.
“You’ll understand in time,” she says, her tone sharp enough to end the conversation. Well that sounds fucking ominous. She stands, brushing off her hands. “Break’s over. Back to work.”
I swear I’m about to collapse into the soil and not get back up, when the young man from the inn barrels into the clearing, heaving and panting in exhaustion.
Before I can stand, Jax creates a shield around us, instincts taking over, before she realizes it’s the young boy.
Recognition hits her, and she brings down her shield.
“Kael sent me,” he says, leaning his palms on his knees, breath ragged. “The weeping eye blood sigil is on the door of the inn. We’ve been marked.”
Panic flares in Jax’s eyes, and I have absolutely no idea what’s going on, only that it’s not good.
“I hope you’ve been taking note today, Lightborne. You’re about to use it,” Jax tugs me up off the ground and gestures to follow her. She takes off at breakneck speed, and I try desperately to keep up after hours spent exhausting myself. My mind is reeling and my thighs are burning.
What the fuck is the weeping eye? What does being marked mean? And why have we been marked in the first place? And who is this boy that keeps popping up? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Jax slows when we’ve almost returned to the inn, eyes keenly observant, as if she’s looking for something specific.
Her gaze fixes on a door to our right, one door back from the corner building positioned diagonally from the inn.
A small upside-down triangle is etched into the wooden door, and I would’ve missed it had Jax’s gaze not clung to it.
She withdraws a blade from her thigh and nods at me to do the same. The Starforged Blade sings in my hand, sharp and ready.
Taking a deep, preparatory inhale, Jax steels herself, nods to me, and rushes through the door.
She instantly presses into a body and lands an elbow into the attacker's face. I don’t know what happens with her next, because I am accosted by a solid body.
I swing my elbows before lashing out with my blade, piercing skin, and the sharp intake of breath and a hushed “fuck” comes next.
Seren’s voice cuts through the air, “El, stop! Stop. It’s us! ”
The rush of a fight quickly fades before I realize that I’ve nicked Kael, the skin on his side bleeding and sizzling.
I look around and find Jax with her blade at Therion’s throat, before seeing Ronyn, Seren and Merrik watching on in this dimly lit storage room that reeks of damp wood and rusting tools.
“Oh my Stars, I’m so sorry,” I gasp, scrambling to reach him. “Kael, I didn’t mean—”
He catches my wrist. “It’s fine, Duskae. Just a scratch. I’m more impressed than wounded.”
But I see the grimace he tries to hide.
Without dwelling on whatever just happened, I say, “Okay is someone going to explain what in the fucking Stars is going on?” I ask, looking around for an explanation, the air thick with tension.
Seren clears her throat, a book clutched to her chest like a shield. “We’ve been found,” she says quietly. “Marked by The Aegis Covenant.”
“The Aegis what?” I blink, because that wasn’t an explanation at all.
“The Aegis Covenant are a rogue faction of anti-prophetic rebels that want to shield the realms from destruction. They believe that if the Lightborne rises, the world shall fall.” Seren states it without emotion, trying to shield me from the weight of her words.
“They believe I will be the end of the realms,” I murmur quietly. I knew there would be people who were sceptical of the prophecy, so I’m not sure why hearing this stings so much.
“Elyssara, these people are trying to play the role of the gods. They’re nothing but a nuisance,” Merrik adds. “If it’s not this prophecy, it’s something else they’re making a big noise about.”
“Regardless, they’re a threat and they’ve marked us.
Their symbol is a weeping eye—it represents the Stars weeping when the balance is tipped—and they’ve smeared it over the inn’s door.
It was our safe house, and none of us have left since we arrived.
Someone’s been watching us. These people see themselves as vigilantes—protectors of the realms. They may be a big noise, but their blades are still sharp,” Therion chimes in with common sense as usual.
“They’ll be coming and they’ll be out for Elyssara’s blood. We haven’t got long, so it’s time to make a plan,” Kael’s no fuss approach is a balm to my nerves.
“I still have a lot of questions,” I murmur.
“Later. I’ll answer them all later. But for now, we prepare to fight.”