39. Ryker
Ryker
Once we’re back on the mountainside, Carys is quick to open another gateway to get us all out of the pouring rain.
Unlike Brynna’s, this gateway feels calm and controlled, as if it answers to the one who opened it.
The familiar pull of magic hums over my skin as we step through, and when my boots hit solid ground, I know immediately we’re no longer in the same world.
The Fae capital unfolds before us like something torn from a dream.
Where the Elven Council had been stone and stillness, rooted in nature and order, this place defies both gravity and reason.
Spires of silver curve toward the heavens, rising in vast arcs that catch the dying light of the sun.
Every surface shimmers as if it’s alive.
The city doesn’t stand against the sky—it mirrors it.
Carys looks to Riven, something unnameable passing between them. Even Brynna stands taller, but colder. I take Raea’s hand in mine, following after them. Finn brings up the rear, silently.
We cross a bridge of glass, and for a moment, I can’t tell which is a reflection and which is real.
The arches of the High Fae Palace, as Carys called it, loom ahead.
Seven ribs of bright stone converge like petals of some ancient celestial flower not yet bloomed.
Each is carved with glowing blue runes that pulse faintly with ancient power.
I feel it before I understand it. My blood sings with the history here.
Beside me, Raea’s gaze lifts to the sky above. The glow reflects in her eyes—starlight caught in the pools of green—and for a heartbeat, I forget the heaviness of the council hall, the assessment of ancient eyes.
“It’s breathtaking,” Raea murmurs as a smile blooms across her face.
Carys looks back with a grin as she leads us with Brynna right on her heels.
Above us, the sky has turned a shade of navy with a bright lavender on the horizon as stars twinkle brighter with every heartbeat.
The air feels light—like music drifting on a wind that only exists in holy places—where beauty demands reverence and the skies sing their song.
If the Elven are the roots, the Fae are the sky.
The bridge carries us into the heart of the city, and the air shifts. It’s warmer here—alive somehow, like the city itself is breathing. Gardens hang suspended in the air, spilling violet flame-lilies and crystalline vines from terraces that float on an invisible breeze.
Tall, slender beings with pointed ears who carry themselves with the kind of grace that isn’t practiced, laugh in the streets.
Children play games of tag. A mother carries an infant in her arms. Beside her, a Fae man says something that makes her laugh.
They’re all dressed in finery, like wearing opulence for an evening stroll is a normal occurrence.
I keep my face a mask of bored indifference, but my eyes are cataloging every guard’s stance and every hidden archway.
They look at us like curiosities—like lost humans, but they don't see the storm simmering behind my eyes. Let them think I’m a boy in a silver embroidered jacket.
Courts are always more honest when they forget who could kill them.
Everyone here is happy, but not the fragile joy we knew back home. This is the ease of a people who have not lived under the shadow of war for thousands of years. It should comfort me. Instead, it makes something ugly coil in my chest.
Raea squeezes my hand like she understands. “I see you.”
She always has. She doesn’t flinch from the darkness in me or try to soften it. She meets it—and stays.
A procession waits at the gates of the High Palace. The guards stand motionless and unsettling. Their armor glows like the glass palace before us, the gleaming metal reflecting the evening light.
One of the guards steps forward. “Ryker of the Stormborne Line,” he says, his voice cool and precise. “And Soraea, Harbinger of Light. The High Court welcomes you to Sorynth.”
As if sensing my question, Riven mutters quietly, “Sorynth is the third planet in the Auralan system.”
Raea turns and, under her breath, asks, “And where were we before?”
“We never left Auralis. It’s where the Elven Council chamber resides and where your training will take place,” Finn says.
I notice he doesn’t say the council lives there.
A trumpet blows, pulling our attention back to the front. The guard bows, but it’s the kind of bow that acknowledges power, not allegiance. Behind him, the gates unfold.
We’re led into the tallest building—the main palace.
The hall beyond steals my breath. Unlike the exterior of the palace, which is made of shimmering glass and ethereal light, this is somber.
Dark stone walls shimmer with the reflection of stars, and the arched cathedral ceiling above is a mirror to the heavens.
It’s so perfectly clear I can’t tell where the world ends and eternity begins.
The moment Raea’s foot crosses the threshold, the silence is shattered.
The runes scream with recognition, a wave of soft gold light surging through the dark stone like a heartbeat.
I watch the guards’ composure slip—the first crack in their perfect performance.
They called her Harbinger of Light, and for the first time, I see the weight of that title settle on her shoulders.
She isn’t a guest here—she’s the arrival of the war they’ve been sheltered from.
“Do you feel that?” she whispers, her fingers brushing mine.
I nod, unable to look away from the light now pulsing around her. “You are incredible.”
Our party is silent as we make our way down the halls. We’re brought into what appears to be a waiting room, the sofas comfortable and food decorating the tables, but we’re left here as Carys and Brynna disappear through one door, Riven and Finn through another.
I don’t mind. I’ve needed a moment to catch up with Raea anyway. She sits on the edge of a sofa, her eyes wide as she takes in the simple room. From everything we’ve seen today, this feels the most like home. Completely and utterly normal.
“You okay?” I ask, pulling her into my side.
She exhales slowly. “It’s just a lot. I knew this was going to be hard, but this…” She blows out another breath. “I’m exhausted, and we haven’t even started. I just want to go back to our friends, have a normal meal, and work through all of this.”
I mutter an agreement before offering to get her something to eat. She shakes her head, but I make her a small plate of buttered bread and a chocolate dessert of sorts. I grab her a cup of tea before sitting beside her once more.
She gives me a sidelong glance, then grins. “Fine, but you need to eat too,” she says before popping a piece of the bread in her mouth.
I smile and grab myself a plate. For long minutes, neither one of us speaks, too lost in our own thoughts before Finn enters with Riven. They’ve both changed into something more formal.
Finn looks uncomfortable, pulling at the too-tight jacket. “Once we are done here, we will head back and have dinner. Your friends have been given a tour today and are caught up on everything regarding the war, our system, gateway magic, and any other relevant information that might be needed.”
Raea sits straighter. “Can we open gateways?”
“In time, yes. You both have powerful magic, so it should be something you can do,” Riven responds.
A knowing smile crosses his face as if predicting her next question.
“Not everyone can open them. For everyone else, there are permanent gateways scattered across the planets. It allows them to move throughout the system, but sometimes requires travel to reach them. For us—” He shrugs. “—it’s much quicker.”
“Do you use transports?” Raea asks eagerly.
Finn’s brows scrunch in confusion.
Riven shakes his head. “No. All the technology you have in your system comes from the humans on Helix. In Auralan, we rely on our magic.”
I have a thousand more questions, but Carys and Brynna step into the room. Brynna has changed out of her leather get-up and into a formal gown, but it’s the two tiaras atop their heads that give me pause.
“Ready?” Carys asks.
Carys and Brynna lead our group into a chamber that I can only assume is the council room. Much like the Elven Council, this room has arches and thrones, but instead of five, there are seven, each with a unique symbol etched into the backs of their seat.
The ceilings here reveal the night sky, and the chamber itself is lit with thousands of candles and sconces evenly placed around the rectangular room. Beyond the far wall is a glittering river that flows into the city, surrounding the palace.
A door to our right opens, and a tall man enters, a crown atop his head, dressed in white, flowing robes with intricate silver details.
He has long silver hair, bright blue eyes, and pointed ears.
He smiles as he greets his daughters. Then he looks to Raea and me, extending a hand. “I’m King Ariyan.”
There’s something harsh about him. Maybe it’s the cold and calculating eyes, or the stern set of his jaw, but I extend my hand, gripping his forearm as he does with mine.
To Raea, he bows as he studies her. “So young. And already carrying more power than she understands.” His gaze lingers as if he’s seeing her and finding her unworthy before tsking. He spins, his robes billowing out behind him as he heads to the center throne, the one etched with a sword.
He nods to someone in the corner, and the other council members enter. Unceremoniously, the other six file in, talking in hushed tones and dressed in finery, each taking their seats.
Once they settle, Carys steps forward to introduce us. “Council members, I bring Prince Anders Rykerson of the Okenen Kingdom and Princess Raea Tierson of the Treon Kingdom in Caelestis.”
Raea and I both bow our heads in acknowledgment.
I swear I see the king’s jaw tick as he glares at Raea. My fists clench, but I keep them hidden.
A woman at the end of the row speaks first. “Welcome to Sorynth. We are the High Fae Council. I am Lady Takora.” She gestures as she lists off names. “Lord Theryn, Lord Durnen, Lord Meret, Lord Mikel, and Lady Cadence.”
There’s a coldness that radiates from the group. It isn’t the power of ancient magic but their heir of authority as if they’ve now had a chance to look at us and have found us lacking.
Raea bristles beside me, and I can tell she’s agitated.
“Well,” King Ariyan starts. “Prince Anders.” He looks toward me, ignoring Raea completely. “We have sensed you are Stormborne. Carys tells me you have been working on your magic?”
I swallow my frustration with the king and decide to play this politically. “I’m still learning, but I’ve had some help from the elders of a small island colony in my kingdom.”
“Ah,” he says as if he doesn't really care. “Yes, I did hear something about those lesser Fae in hiding.” A ripple of tension moves through the chamber. Even the guards stiffen. Then he grins. “No matter. Carys will look after your training. She’s more than capable.”
“Father,” Brynna says sternly. Carys looks upset as she glances at Riven, who subtly shakes his head. “Raea and Anders are to complete their Aethermark.”
The king’s eyes flash with cruelty before he plasters on a false smile. “Well.” He clears his throat. “One can never truly know there is a Bond until it’s completed. For now, he will train with Carys.”
He dismisses our Bond as if it’s a childhood whim, a secondary thought to the training he wants to control.
He clearly wants me separated from Raea, but he’s forgotten one thing—I’ve spent my entire life navigating court politics I didn't understand to stay alive, to keep the evidence of my wrecked home from being brought into the light.
Whatever the Stormborne line truly is, and whatever power the king believes he can claim, he’s already misjudged me. My loyalty is not negotiable. It never has been. She will forever come first, above all else.
“King Ariyan,” Riven says, stepping forward. “I was told I was to oversee his training.”
The king’s eyes shimmer with unrestrained power. “Nice to see you, River.”
“Riven,” Carys interjects, hurt and anger flashing across her features before she quickly masks it.
“I didn’t even see you there,” the king finishes. “Well, since Anders falls under my jurisdiction, I choose who trains him. You know the Elven Council has no say.”
Riven nods and steps back into line with the rest of us.
The king stands, seemingly done with this meeting. It feels as if it were more of a power play than a true meeting. King Ariyan assesses me once more, then spins on his heel.
“Father—” Brynna starts, voice pleading. “Let me come home.”
The king pauses, his eyes meeting hers over his shoulder. “Absolutely not. Your punishment will not be easily assuaged.” With that, he marches back until he’s standing before us, chin raised as he looks down his nose at us.
I bristle, standing taller, my height higher than his.
“It was lovely to meet you,” the king says with false excitement, “but I’m afraid I must take my leave for another meeting. Do come again.” He nods to the council member at his side and then disappears out the door.
We stand before the six council members.
“Please keep us updated on their progress for both the Aethermark and their training,” Lord Durnen says. He’s the smallest man of the group and, by the looks of it, the kindest.
Carys agrees, though her eyes slide to Riven.
With that, they all stand, whispering as they leave.
Once the door clicks shut, Finn releases a long breath. “Well, who’s ready for dinner?”
Brynna glares at him, shouting she’ll meet us there as she storms off through another door.