Chapter 12
Chapter
Twelve
The morning air was crisp, carrying the scent of baked oats and roasted root vegetables as we sat around the long wooden table, finishing the last of breakfast.
I hadn’t said a word about Zander’s parentage. That wasn’t my story to tell. That was his storm to weather or to share, if he wanted to.
But the prophecy? That belonged to all of us.
“They call me the destroyer,” I said quietly, pushing my bowl away. “But there’s not just one prophecy. There are several… and each one says something different.”
Naia froze mid-chew. Jax’s fork paused halfway to his mouth. Ferrula sat back slowly, brows drawn tight.
Cordelle, though, just hummed, like something had finally been confirmed.
“I suspected as much,” he murmured, brushing a hand over the weathered edge of the book he’d brought to breakfast. “Some of the references I found don’t match the prophecy I told you about. That one doesn’t call you the destroyer… exactly.”
I leaned forward. “If we could find them, read them, I might understand what I’m meant to do. Or… if I can choose a path that doesn’t end in our destruction.”
Cordelle’s eyes lit with a rare intensity. “I’ll help you find them.”
Ferrula snorted, but her tone was warm. “You just want an excuse to dig through forgotten libraries.”
“And what better reason than preventing the end of the continent?” he shot back dryly.
I cracked a smile, the tension in my chest easing just a little.
After breakfast, we grabbed our gear and headed toward the Ascension Grounds, the courtyard humming with early morning drills from Crownwatch and Warborn.
None of us expected to see Remy waiting at the center, arms crossed, his dark-brown hair slicked back, and a devilish glint in his eye.
He wore a Fourth Guild insignia today, polished and official, and somehow that made everything worse.
Zander was off with Crownwatch, offering us only a distant glance before returning to his own command.
Remy didn’t wait long.
“You’re sparring with First Guild today,” he said, pacing slowly in front of us. “Hand-to-hand trials. No weapons. No magic.”
Groans broke out around me.
“They’re better on the ground than we are,” Remy added. “So unless you enjoy the taste of gravel, fight dirty.”
First Guild emerged from the east gate.
Their squad was leaner than ours, with fewer bruisers like Jax, more whip-fast fighters with tightly braided hair and sharp eyes.
Leading them was a tall woman with a long scar down her cheek and a predator’s grace in her stride. She wore her rank like a blade, and the way her squad moved behind her told me she didn’t need to shout to be obeyed.
They lined up opposite us, assessing, silent.
Jax muttered under his breath, “Great. They look like they eat people for breakfast.”
Naia grinned. “I like a challenge.”
Remy clapped his hands once. “Pair off. Let’s see who walks away standing.”
The first blows of the day hadn’t even landed yet.
But we were already burning to win.
As the squads paired off, the sound of shuffling boots and cracking joints filled the Ascension Grounds. Tension coiled through the air like a drawn bowstring.
Remy stepped up beside me. His stance relaxed, but his voice low and calm as it brushed against my ear.
“These combat trials shouldn’t have happened for another month or so,” he murmured. “The Crimson Sigil has loyalists in First Guild. Be wary.”
My blood chilled. I turned to look at him, but he was already moving away, calling out orders, his expression unreadable.
I gave a subtle nod and turned to face my opponent.
He was smaller than me, wiry but solid, with short dark hair and eyes that didn’t blink.
He didn’t posture or sneer. He just dropped into a stance like this was his breathing ground.
The match started fast.
He struck first, low and precise, aiming for my ribs. I twisted, deflecting with my forearm and drove my elbow toward his shoulder, but he dipped beneath and used my momentum to toss me.
I hit the ground hard, rolled, and came back to my feet.
He smirked. Not cocky, just calculated.
He came again, with quick jabs meant to probe for weakness. I blocked the first three, ducked the fourth, and caught him with a quick knee to the thigh.
But he adjusted, and swept my legs with a pivoting kick that sent me sprawling again.
He was smart. Fast. He’d studied my form before we even engaged. He wanted to win. Not just for pride, for purpose.
I came up again, feinted high, spun low, caught him with a foot sweep. He staggered, just enough. I pressed, driving forward.
A roar ripped through the skies above.
Every head turned instinctively to the Dragon Isle.
Kieren.
My bond flared. Her fury struck me like a wave.
Before I could call to him, a shout rang out.
Tae.
I turned just in time to see him fall, a knife embedded in his shoulder.
He dropped to one knee, blood already soaking through the fabric of his tunic.
But his attacker, another First Guild fighter, stood frozen mid-stride, eyes wide, unmoving.
Like he’d been turned to stone.
Tae gasped, clutching his shoulder.
My opponent stepped back, and the match around us fell into chaos as realization dawned.
This wasn’t a trial anymore.
It was an ambush.
Two men from First Guild surged forward, grabbing the fighter who’d stabbed Tae with swift, practiced precision. They wrenched his arms behind his back as he snarled, spitting curses in a language I didn’t recognize.
His commander, the tall, scary woman with a braid coiled over one shoulder, stormed toward them, her face flushed with fury. She looked from Tae to the attacker, then to the rest of us, as if debating who else might be involved.
She turned back to the frozen man, who had just begun to twitch, the strange stillness leaving his limbs like melted ice.
The First Guild leader’s expression hardened. She barked. “We have a traitor. He will be dealt with immediately.” The entire squad turned in perfect unison, dragging their traitor with them.
They left the grounds without a backward glance.
I didn’t wait. I ran to Tae and dropped to one knee beside him.
Blood soaked the front of his shirt, but his eyes were alert. Gritted teeth. He was in pain, but conscious.
I slid my arm around his back, pulling him to his feet and slinging one of his arms over my shoulder.
Remy was already there, jaw tight. “Take him to Meri. Now.”
Riven moved in silently on Tae’s other side, her presence like a wall, solid, unshakable.
Together, we got him to the healers’ quadrant, pushing through the arched doorway as Meri snapped out orders and cleared a cot.
She looked up as we laid him down, her healer’s instincts already flaring as she gathered supplies.
“What happened?” she asked keenly, her eyes darting between us.
“We were doing hand-to-hand trials,” I said, voice fast and clipped. “Someone stabbed him. From First Guild.”
Her mouth tightened, but she nodded. “He looks like he ran a marathon,” she added, inspecting his pale face, the sweat slicking his brow. “Why?”
Tae let out a breath, his voice raw. “Because I did something I wasn’t supposed to.”
Meri paused.
He looked up at me. Then at Riven. Then back to her.
“My power…” Tae swallowed. “I can control minds. Briefly. One at a time. But it drains me, burns through my body like lightning through a tree. If I hold it too long, I could die.”
I blinked, the memories snapping into place.
When the Blood Fae attacked.
In the castle, with the guards.
I hadn’t understood then.
I hadn’t realized what he could do.
“I used it,” Tae said. “To stop him from stabbing again. I didn’t have a choice.”
Meri’s face was unreadable as she started treating his shoulder, but her voice was gentle. “It saved your life.”
He gave a bitter laugh. “The crown made me classify it. Said it would be dangerous if others knew.”
I glanced at Riven, then at Tae.
“Well,” I said softly, “now everyone knows.”
And nothing would ever be the same.
Meri’s hands hovered over Tae’s shoulder, a soft golden light glowing from her fingertips as the torn flesh began to stitch together.
Threads of muscle pulled tight, and blood flowed backward into unbroken skin, the wound sealing with a shimmer of warmth and magic that smelled faintly of rosemary and yarrow.
Tae let out a low sigh, his body relaxing beneath her touch, shoulders melting into the cot like she’d poured sunlight straight into his bones.
“Careful,” he murmured, eyes fluttering half-shut, “or I’m going to fall in love with you.”
Meri rolled her eyes without missing a beat. “You’ll be unconscious in five minutes, flirt.”
“You say that like it isn’t the beginning of a great romance,” Tae replied with a drowsy grin.
That was it. Riven snorted, I cracked, and even Meri let out a breath of a laugh.
Tae blinked up at us like he couldn’t believe we weren’t swooning. “You wound me deeper than the blade did,” he said, placing a dramatic hand over his chest. “Let it be known I died gorgeous and unloved.”
“Gods, you’re ridiculous,” I said, biting back laughter.
We were still smiling when the door creaked open and a tall man in Stormforge leathers stepped into the Healer’s Hall, his storm-gray cloak trailing behind him. The insignia glinted silver on his shoulder, his posture calm but alert.
“Good morning,” he said, offering a nod to each of us. “I’m Lieutenant Kaelrick from Stormforge.”
Of course, I had seen him, but like the other squads, they ignored us when possible.
His eyes landed on Tae, assessing the now-healed wound. “I saw what happened on the grounds. You conducted yourself with control and courage. Your power… is quite an asset.”
Tae blinked, sitting up a little straighter. “Thank you, lieutenant.”
Kaelrick’s gaze sharpened. “Tell me… would you like to ascend?”
I frowned. “Ascend?”
“It’s when you move up in the guild ranks,” Tae said quietly. “Not just by title. But by station. Squad. And responsibility.”
“What?” I asked, the realization settling like a stone. “He’s asking you to join Stormforge?”
Tae met my eyes.
And nodded.
His smile was hesitant, flickering with disbelief.
And just like that, everything shifted again.
One moment, we were laughing.
The next—Tae was standing at the edge of a promotion.
And we were about to lose him.