Chapter 48 A Veritable Nightmare
A Veritable Nightmare
“The walls are indestructible. They must be, to keep such creatures inside.”
— Marker Dain, Lord of Lawship
“Brace!” Valeska ordered.
Wind ripped past. The world became a storm of obsidian and screams. I should have been afraid, but how could I be? We moved faster than my own legs could ever take me. The ground was far below, where no one could reach me.
My Nature charged through my veins, surging as we plummeted towards the obsidian barrier.
One of us was going to come down. Me, or this fucking wall.
“Don’t doubt us,” Valeska echoed as she pulled my Nature through her, splashing it from her wings as we smashed into the wall with bone-rattling vibration. I closed my eyes, and my legs held tight, though my Nature would surely keep me in place.
Valeska flapped her wings, flying upwards.
“Are you alright?” I asked, hiding my face in her neck, afraid to look for myself.
“I may not be a fresh hatchling anymore, but I’m not that fragile. We’re turning around. The west end needs an exit too.”
Too.
I glanced below. She had plunged through the wall like an anchor. Glee spread through me as we flew back for a second round.
Civilians cheered, running through their new exit and charging for the ships.
We crashed through the wall once more, and this time I forced my eyes to stay open, watching the wall crumble.
Valeska held strong, once again ascending after the hit.
“The Drakers! Outside of the Waywards! They’re targeting those who have escaped!” I pointed below. Rebels fought the troops of Drakers nearing the beach. Valeska growled, nosediving.
I buried my head against her as the speeding winds pulled at my skin. With no warning, Valeska spun, spiraling towards them, forcing my head upright as she erupted countless blades at the masked men.
Valeska’s satisfaction trickled into my mood as she landed on the beach, shaking the ground.
When she roared, the Drakers' knees wobbled, some of them dropping their measly swords.
They wielded weapons. We were weapons.
“Retreat!” one of them yelled, yanking back on the reins of his horse.
I lowered my chin, glaring. Forfeit was not good enough for me.
Join me, or join those who’ve crossed me.
Every moment they spent fleeing, they solidified their choice. My lips curled back, rough Drakish accent loud enough for the cowards to hear. They had caged and betrayed their own people.
“End them.”
Blades rippled from Valeska, shooting like darts. As the Drakers tried to flee, Valeska released blade after blade, until they were nothing but a pile of memories who had made the wrong choice.
With the path to the ships clear, more and more Drakers retreated, even those within the walls. They were losing hope.
“Take me to the center.”
Valeska followed my command, landing in the middle of the Waywards.
My brother was fighting in glowing black armor. Riven fought nearby, and Amzee soared overhead, sinking blades into archers. Most of the Drakers were concentrated in the center of the ‘Wards, all second-guessing their decisions as Valeska screeched.
I dismounted, sliding awkwardly down her wing. “Clear the path behind us. I’ll help my brother.”
Valeska huffed steam in response, plundering into the streets and sending men screaming for their lives. I pulled out Singer, whacking the first Draker to come at me.
Across the street, Riven locked eyes on me in awe. I smiled, my feelings for him surfacing—
Time slowed as two archers in blue cloaks grinned from atop the building. They both cocked their arms back and released.
One arrow soared towards Riven. One for Xavian.
I’d stopped a flying object before, in the midwinter games. I’d saved Beck. I could stop an arrow—
I screamed, dropping Singer and holding both of my palms up. My Nature erupted, forming a misted orb. I needed two at the same time. I needed more, but my body denied me, forcing me to make a choice. My brother or Riven.
I threw it with all my might. My poison soared through the air, swallowing up an arrow and melting it into the ground.
The other went through Riven’s chest.
His knees hit the ground, hand grabbing at his heart.
“Riven!” I cried. I ran to his side, trying to hold him up by the shoulders. Xavian was somewhere behind me, calling for Riven to hold on.
Prince Payn appeared above us, looking down on me, unbearably calm.
My eyes hardened as Xavian reached for a bow off the ground.
“Your debt is paid,” Payn called out, downing a vial of blood and vanishing from atop the building.
His words echoed through my mind. “You will learn what it means to be an heir.”
“No,” I breathed. We had bladebreathers. We had Xavian. It was time to win, not die.
Blood trickled out of Riven’s mouth. His face was horrifically pale, sweat dampening his cheeks, lips turning blue.
Xavian cursed, helping me lay him down.
Amzee ran over, as did Zephy and Valeska, circling us. Daring any Drakers to come near.
Red coated my hands as I frantically tried to stop the bleeding.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled.
I didn’t want apologies. I wanted him. I wanted us.
“No,” I snarled. “You promised I wouldn’t lose you. You…you’re the Oathkeeper!”
Blood flooded from Riven's mouth, choking him. His eyes flared with fear, refusing to meet mine. He grabbed at his chest, every inhale a stridorous nightmare.
I screamed for Xavian to help me, and he was already sitting Riven back up.
“I–” Riven coughed, gripping my hand.
“You what?” I breathed.
His eyes closed, weight dragging against me. His hand went limp, warmth fleeing his skin.
Xavian brought his fingers to Riven's neck. My jaw trembled.
Riven’s next breath never came.
“You promised me.” My throat was dry, arms shaking.
“We need to keep moving,” Xavian said gently.
I eyed Riven’s sword on the ground a few yards away.
“He needs his sword.”
“Elora, he—”
“He needs his fucking sword!” I cried.
With heavy steps, I went to it—a grand and heavy sword that he’d surely spent many years with. Tears rolling down my face, I grabbed the hilt and lifted, screeching as I forced my body to endure.
I didn’t let it waver as I carried it over and laid it next to his body.
I knelt down once more and rested my head on his chest, my eyes closed.
Amzee hugged my back. Then Xavian joined, and then Beck. Until we all held on for one final moment.
I refused to look at Riven’s body any longer. I stood, hands shaking, facing the Drakers who were still bold enough to challenge us.
Picking up Singer, I approached them.
“When you meet the Gods, tell them to stay the fuck out of my way,” I growled before pointing Singer, misting twenty of them. I didn’t give a damn about the inevitable burnout.
Revenge consumed me.
Back to back with my brother, he with a sword and I with Singer, we remained at the center of the Waywards with Valeska, striking down any Draker that dared try to pass through. Xavian was here, a king, doing what my father and Clarke never would have.
We were an unstoppable force, and as the weight of the battle shifted in our favor, more and more of the Dark Natured safely boarded the ships.
By nightfall, I was staring at the stars, lying on Valeska’s back as we flew over the Sea of Blades.
Grief numbed me from the feelings of victory.
The freedom of being able to go home had a price. So many had paid for it. Riven had paid for it. Valeska roared in tribute for him, releasing a dozen blades into the sea in his honor.
With the burning Waywards long behind us, I clenched my eyes shut, wanting to disappear.
The orb flickered.
I held it up, tapping it.
“Care to join us?” Ansel requested. “Just for a moment.”
I swallowed, clipping it back to my waist. I was not the only one who had lost someone. I needed to be there for my people.
Valeska dropped us to the forefront of our fleet, perching lightly on the end of the ship.
Celebrations were happening on the deck.
Liquor and food had been served. People were singing, kissing, holding each other.
The world around me was a blur compared to my grief.
I tried to at least focus on conversations where Xavian and I were being thanked for our leadership, with promises from the Dark Natured that they would join the brotherhood upon arrival to Castivian.
Late into the evening, Ansel proposed a toast.
I stood with a strong pour in hand, staring out into the sea.
“To the famed bastard twins of Castivian, King Xavian Steele and Princess Elorengail Whimcastor, for their triumphant victory at the Southern Waywards!” Ansel cheered.
He’d already changed and cleaned up, his piercing blue eyes cutting through the crowd.
“And cheers to my wife, for a successful bonding to a bladebreather!” he added.
Beck stared, arms crossed from across the deck. I drank deeply. Ansel offered to grab me another.
As everyone else celebrated, I planned my revenge.
Delaina thought me to be a monster? I’d become something far more frightening—a veritable nightmare.
My revenge is inescapable.