Chapter 50
Lyriasthe and I sat atop the sloped roof of the guard tower, spyglasses in our hands.
A bitter chill ghosted through my feathers, pulling a shiver from my bones.
Even with my wings tucked tight, my cloak didn’t quite wrap all the way around me, and the wool blanket over my lap wasn’t enough to ward off the chill either.
But with our precarious perch, I couldn’t banish them away.
Isra lingered nearby, a constant shadow that I accepted wholeheartedly. Unlike Althirion and Nymirae, her presence was helpful rather than oppressive.
I couldn’t summon a single drop of pity for their deaths. We’d yet to receive any word from Iaoth and Stadiel regarding the absence of their collars either. Which should have been a blessing but felt more like a curse.
Was their raven imminent? Were they sending a physical presence instead? Or were they doing nothing at all? My Sight hadn’t shown me anything of them when I’d pressed.
The not knowing ate at me during the hours that passed as we waited for the Angel army to retreat beyond the wall. Vaeron, Maelsar, and Zuriel had spent days clearing a space large enough to pass through without fear of attack from the Demons.
Even with the cold, my friend and I kept a steadfast watch, taking turns peering into the Demon Realm and south along the wall.
“Is that…” Lyriasthe trailed off, twisting the scope of her instrument for further clarity. I dove into my well, seeking a glimpse of the near future.
The canopy of the distant alpine forest trembled. A hum pricked my ears. Ilae and Ysolthe emerged, their crystalline forms shining despite the cover of clouds. The auravane twisted through the sky in front of us like they were readying to defend against an attack, talons wide and ready to rake.
Fear laced my ribs tight. “I think it might be Demons coming.”
“Tell Vaeron,” Lyriasthe said, never taking her gaze off the buzzing trees. “Isra!”
The female flew beside us, sword already drawn and magic spooling at her fingertips. “I am here.”
“I think we’re about to be attacked," I shot down my mental connection. The males were below, readying to receive our brethren.
“On my way.”
Ilae clicked, his massive wings dragging through the sky as he hovered in place. Watching. Waiting. Until white, like an oncoming snowstorm, rose above the canopy.
“It’s Angels!” I exclaimed just as Vaeron and Maelsar landed on either side of Lyriasthe and me.
“Thank the Goddess,” Maelsar muttered, his shoulders relaxing. Isra sheathed her blade and sailed away to inform Oshenai of their arrival.
The beat of a thousand wings gusted the air, kicking dirt off the ground and sending the few remaining birds scattering from their perches. The auravane swooped after them, hungry for their next meal.
Vaeron yelled down at the soldiers below, announcing our army’s imminent arrival. Whoops resounded from those who helped clear the path and make this maneuver possible.
“Land on the blue-marked area,” Maelsar shouted at the oncoming force. The Padisa relayed the orders behind them.
“Brace yourselves,” Vaeron gritted out, gripping the spire of the tower.
The displaced air buffeted me, knocking me sideways. White leaped out and wrapped around my waist as the ground rushed up to meet my face. I glanced back, the tether linking me to my mate. He raised a judgmental eyebrow and reeled me back in.
Overhead, the army flew, gray leather and white wings blending in with the moody sky.
Shouts of our titles rang out, and many pointed directly to me. I met their gazes, schooling my expression into confident composure.
I’d weaponized my title and accepted my Sight. I was their savior—from a tyrannical crown and a dogmatic religion. From their deaths. While a sword wouldn’t grace my hands, I defended them with the desire for peace instead of war.
Would I even be a good Korona?
Dread dug into my bones. Before, all our talk had been so abstract, so hypothetical. But now, being confronted with an army who believed every word I spoke about my visions…
Doubt stormed inside me.
Who was I to rule over them? Who was I to decide the fates of every Angel? My family had been wealthy, yes, but I was not of noble blood.
I was a dancer, Vaela? first class. A Seer who had not wanted the gift of knowing the future.
“You are my mate,” Vaeron said, drawing my attention to him rather than the swarm.
“You are far more thoughtful than any noble I’ve ever met.
You consider the well-being of others above your own.
You are steadfast in your convictions, and when they are trained in the true direction…
” He offered me a wicked grin. “You are an unstoppable force. A maelstrom sent to destroy what is needed and offer a life after to rebuild.”
Tears pricked my eyes. “Thank you.” But there was more to peace than simply replacing the current figures on the Angel thrones. My visions had told me that, time and time again.
“We are in this together. Whenever you lose sight of our path, come to me, little fugitive. I will be your beacon.”
“And I will be yours.” Neither of us needed to speak of his other power.
While he performed with his light for everyone else, I knew the darkness lurking beneath.
Keeping it secret from thousands was paramount, especially those returning from the front.
They believed they were holy warriors, Goddess-sent to slaughter Demons.
Their fervency was as high as the Hathi.
And my intuition told me that Oshenai already suspected something…
The last of the returning Angels flew overhead, and only then did we dare rise to our feet and follow them over the wall.
When we landed in the field that had been cleared, claustrophobia set in.
The sheer number of eyes on me made my skin crawl.
There were too many hands that could race forward and reach.
At the head of them all, a Padisa and a Bassi knelt. “Honored by our divine creator,” the Padisa said. “I am Iskarya.”
Like a wave, those behind them prostrated themselves, hands pressed over their hearts. The Issaraeth approached them, posture impeccable and with that monstrous air that made me feel so protected.
“How many accompany you, officers?”
“Three thousand, Issaraeth. The Zahal has another group prepared to depart in the morning should we confirm our safe arrival,” the Iskarya replied, her turquoise irises rising to meet my mate’s punishing regard.
“And what will you tell him?” Vaeron asked.
She flicked her ashen braid over her shoulder. “That our Radiant Mother guides our path to glory.”
“Indeed she does,” the Issaraeth said, his tone cool. Yet beneath it, irritation simmered. “Rise.”
The group did, hands covering mouths to hide whispers. But there was no mistaking about whom they spoke when Seraelth hissed through the chilled air.
“Hals?r is close to overflowing,” Vaeron continued, speaking in a lower volume so only the officers could hear us. “Retreat there and find what space you can among the encampment. As more come, we will have to spread out.”
“I volunteered my faction to make the first venture south to find the locations of the battles as described in the Seraelth’s prophecy,” the Padisa replied, hands folding behind her lower back as she looked up at my mate.
“The other missions have been unsuccessful. If you will give us shelter for the night, we will leave at first light.”
“The Goddess shines Her light upon your soldiers. Go then and scout,” he instructed.
She hooked her thumbs together and fluttered her palms over her heart. “Goddess save you, Issaraeth.”
The four of us waited as the officers gathered their soldiers, arranging for their departure down the mountain and toward the outpost village.
They hefted their packs on their shoulders, forming neat rows.
With a whistle, the Bassi called for them to move.
Following game trails, they marched into the trees, the white a stark contrast to the dark of the bark.
Atop the wall, Oshenai and the other Hathi watched on. We flew up to meet them, and I was grateful to finally banish my wings and pull my cloak tighter.
“First group down, many more to go,” Oshenai chuckled, his aquamarine eyes sparkling.
“Any word from Zuriel?” my mate asked him.
“No signs of further reinforcements arriving from the Demons. Which means that we’ll be able to move all the heavy supplies without issue.”
“Good. I’ll send Ilae to Ishim and inform him that the path is clear.
We have no more time to waste,” Vaeron said, fingers tightening over the hilt of his sword.
“In the meantime, we’ll return to Hals?r.
If we’re going to find the southernmost battle point, these groups need to move themselves into position quickly. ”
“We can handle everything here. It’s close enough that should the need arise, you can return,” Oshenai promised, holding out his hand.
Vaeron reached out and clasped his arm. “I can’t thank you enough, Chieftain. We wouldn’t be able to accomplish any of this without you.”
The islander held Vaeron’s gaze, a firm determination etched into his expression. “By Her divine will, there will be peace in the coming year. I feel it in my bones. Then my people will be left to govern ourselves.”
“You have my word,” Vaeron affirmed. And with that, they broke apart. Oshenai strode off to manage the soldiers remaining at the wall.
Attention fell over me, and I found Isra some distance away, her white curls blowing in the breeze. She dipped her chin to me, and I offered her a wave as Vaeron directed us to the watchtower to gather our belongings.
Even with Lyriasthe and me showing everyone we valued her, the other islanders still hadn’t accepted her into their group. They treated her the same as they always did—like she was someone whose mere touch would taint them.
My thoughts lingered on her the entire ride back to the outpost city. Our horses carried us swiftly down the mountain, and we arrived before the new faction.