Chapter 9
After a month of traveling, we finally reach the city of Frostma.
There were times during the treacherous travel through the snowy, mountainous terrain I wasn’t sure Sully would make it.
Razors churn in my stomach, lapping up my ribs, remembering the endless number of blood-drenched rags.
At one point, I was half certain a Ronew might eat us in the night, smelling his crimson-soaked pillow.
By the time we reach the inn, he’s hacking bloody clumps.
Fuck, this is really not good. The vice around my heart twists and twists, tightening with each step towards our room until it threatens to fracture at the seams.
I need to find Sully a healer. Now. I tuck him into the bed, ensuring the hearth toasts up our rooms, leaving him with a cup of Midnight Bark tea on the nightstand. I kiss him on the forehead.
“I’m going to find you a healer.”
He grabs my wrist, tugging me close to him. “You need to stay focused, Savaé, to pass the Trial of Tenacity. You only have a week to practice the terrain. I know this is what you want. My cough will get better out of the cold air.”
There’s a chill in the way he says my name. He always calls me his little dragon. Hearing him say my name is odd, especially when I’m not in trouble. A thought ignites a feral rage in me.
“Don’t you dare give up! I could pass this trial in my sleep.
” That’s a lie, but I’m making a point. “You coughed up enough blood on this Fates-be-damned trip that you might even need a blood-succubus transfusion. And don’t you dare tell me you are fine because we both know you’re not.
You have lost at least another thirty pounds.
You’re so thin, you might blow away with a gust of wind. ”
Seeking out a blood-succubus is an absolute last resort. I sigh at the thought, softening my tone. “I am really worried about you, Sully. I can’t lose you. This cough is serious. We need help. You need help. Please let me help you. Let me do this for you.”
Taking my hand in both of his, he says with a wisdom and sorrow that breaks my limping heart, “Little dragon, some things can’t be healed. Some things just have to be accepted as they are. All the power in the world cannot defeat death. She comes for us all.”
Tears gush down my gold-flecked cheeks.
He struggles to sit up from the bed, a whisper of the male he once was. His big bear hands, now withered fingers, cup my cheeks, wiping the waterfalls away with his thumbs.
“I will always be with you, in this world and the next. Every moment with you has been a treasure. Thank you for bringing laughter and love back into my life. When you watch the stars twinkle above you, know I am smiling down on you, always, my little Starborne dragon. You made my heart whole again.”
His words are so full of love that my heart heaves against my chest. As if breaking free from the cage of my ribs will grant her the ability to give her own life to mend his.
I wrap my arms around his neck as he wraps his thick bones around my body with a hug I never want to end.
Unfortunately, it’s interrupted by that fucking wretched cough, like nails scraping along the surface of my heart.
“I need to rest now, little dragon. Tomorrow morning, I will be in better sorts. Then we can review the course together.”
I tuck him into the thick wool blanket as he wheezes, trying to catch his breath. My heart falls to the floor, shattering into a thousand pieces as I watch the male who raised me struggle to live. He is always strong for me, so I muster all my strength and stand.
My legs feel rickety, like all the blood has been drained from them. I summon strength from a place I don’t even know I have, because it’s Sully, and I need to find a healer. The universe is going to have to wait to break me. I have a mission to complete.
I scour the town in a frantic rush. Racing from one white stone store to the next, all the way down MainStreet, speaking to anyone who’ll listen.
Until I’m finally pointed towards a retired healer from Gildorea.
Her name is Kanuvwoodi. Kanuvi for short.
She is a Mycelium Nymph but not a Helios.
She’s been brought into town at the request of the Universitás administration, healing for the trial, no doubt.
Even for those who survive the deadly obstacle course, their injuries can be quite significant.
I rush into a slate building with a carved sign above the wooden doors that says ‘Healing Ward.’ The front desk is tended by an Elarian with fair skin, long black hair, and a white tunic.
Unfortunately, she tells me Kanuvi is off-duty and unavailable for healing requests.
After I lie my ass off and convince her Kanuvi is a family friend and I just want to see her before I leave town, the Elarian reluctantly agrees to bring me to her.
She takes me to a corridor upstairs with a common living space, likely where healers reside between shifts.
The walls are lined with anatomical art of various species.
There’s a diagram of a Müra, a moth-like Fae.
Their eyes are set on upside-down moth wings, the tips pointing upwards, blending into a head full of small wings at odd angles.
Their noses and lower faces look Elarian but are covered with soft moth fuzz.
They tend to be slender and more willowy in appearance, with intricately painted wings on their backs for flying.
The anatomical art depicts the deeply grooved nature of their brilliant brains and their bioluminescent antennae that glow in the dark.
They are a favorite at Gildorea for the position of Savant, being the team leader, masters of battle strategy, seeing the complete picture, and calculating every possibility.
Several doors are placed around the room; the Elarian from the front desk points me towards a blue one. I knock on the door with the determination that no matter how this conversation goes, I am not walking away without her help.
A female covered in various orange and red fungi—teal lichen filling in the spaces between—answers the door. She swipes long enoki mushrooms away from her sage eyes as she adjusts her circular spectacles.
“Apologies. I am not on-duty tonight. Come back tomorrow. May the Celestials bless you.” Her voice is earthy and melodic.
“My father is dying. I need your help. I’ve tried every magical herb and potion I know of. My Sangre healing does nothing, and now he is coughing up blood clots. Please, help me,” I plead.
“I am sorry. The Elarian at the front desk will direct you to a healer on-duty.”
“He needs a Mycelium Nymph. Sully trained me as well as any other Elarian healer here.” I’m about to kneel and beg for help when curiosity peaks her tone.
“Sully Stonewall?”
“Yes! Sully Stonewall.”
“You say you are his daughter? That’s impossible.”
“How is that impossible?” I ask.
“Because everyone knows his Bloodline-pairing offspring died as a child.”
I snap my jaw tight, refusing to let my mouth gape like a fish on dry land, despite her comment stealing all the air from my lungs.
Everyone knows except for me! There is so much Sully never told me about his time at Universitás and in the Golden Legion.
He gained and lost so much in such a short amount of time; it’s no wonder he never wanted to speak about it.
He came to a literal ice tundra to forget his past life, just like the metaphorical glacial palace in my chest I use to keep what’s left of my heart safe.
The only difference is, he cracked through my icicle ribs, blooming warmth and all these dainty fragile flowers that will wither away into ash without him.
Tears prickle the backs of my eyes. I fight the welling silver threatening to gush from my lashes like the cascading waterfalls of the Dragon Spine Mountains. I will not yield to these ridiculous emotions or the thousands of questions festering on my tongue, craving to be spat out.
Right now is not the time to search for answers. Right now, I must stay focused. Right now, I only need one thing: her help to heal Sully.
“He took me in when I was eight and had nowhere else to go. He’s the closest thing I have to a father.
I’ll do anything for your help.” I lower my mask, allowing just a smudge of my sadness to paint my features, baring this one glimpse of my vulnerable, wilting bits, so she can see the pleading desperation hidden beneath all my armor.
She looks me over with an assessing gaze. “Taking in an orphan and raising you as his own does sound like Sully…” She pauses, lifting a dainty finger covered in shades of ruby lichen to tap her lip. A small smile perks up the corner of her mouth.
“Our service overlapped. He was the best of us. An exemplary commander. He always put the good of his soldiers first, never risking those stationed under him to meet an objective. He and Xeno were so close, I thought his death would take his life, too. In a way, I suppose it did. He was never the same after. Our fleet admiral was extremely disappointed when he refused to continue his service in an administrative role when he was no longer an Ellian Knight. He saved a great many lives with Xeno’s sacrifice, killing the last shadow Wuvon.
” She pauses thoughtfully, as if lost in a memory, before adjusting her spectacles and continuing, “Let me gather some supplies. I will be right out.”
Even if Sully never wanted to share his experiences with me, I thank the Celestials his name carries so much weight.
She described him exactly as I imagined he’d be during his service.
I really hope Sully lives long enough for me to pester some stories out of him—although after this many years of holding them close to his heart, I doubt anything will change.
I return with Kanuvi to the inn and bring her to Sully’s room. He wakes briefly to smile at us between ragged breaths.