chapter thirty-six
elysia
Morning comes cold and grey. I haven’t seen Kaden properly since last night. He’d tried to speak to me once, a quiet knock on my door, a faint pulse through the bond that begged for a reply.
I gave him nothing.
Now, seated in the lecture hall with a quill in hand, I’m grateful for the silence.
Grateful that he hasn’t pushed further. Whether it’s guilt holding him back or understanding that I need distance, I don’t care.
The bond hums faintly with his presence somewhere behind me, that familiar pull like gravity I can’t quite ignore.
All of us sit scattered along the tables, sunlight filtering through the frost-streaked windows. Professor Aric stands at the front of the hall, posture straight, grey hair tied back neatly.
“Today we’ll be covering your battle brief.” Professor Aric points towards the large map hanging from the ceiling, a sprawling expanse of Celestria rendered in ink. He gestures to the frayed edge of the parchment; the northern line marked in crimson ink.
“The outer border has begun to weaken. Wards have faltered three times in the last three months, and the number of ossaryn approaching has tripled in that time. The eastern line is compromised as well; several lacwyvern have breached and are roaming the ruins unchecked.”
He pauses, eyes sweeping over us before lingering briefly on Kaden. “Mr Reinheart, you are appointed as squad leader and will take point. Miss Olsen, you will serve as second-in-command.”
My eyes flick to Kaden automatically. His jaw is tight and expression unreadable, but I feel the flicker of tension through the bond, the weight of command settling over him like a chain.
Professor Aric gestures to the inner eastern line on the map, the ink gleaming faintly as it catches the morning light.
“You leave at first light tomorrow. You’ll travel to the inner border along the eastern line first, where you’ll report to Commander Dareth Vale at Celestrian War Academy.
He’ll brief you further, introduce additional warriors who’ll join your squad, and provide you with supplies and runes. ”
Kaden clears his throat, voice deep and strained. “So, we take out the lacwyvern in the eastern quarter, then what?”
“You’ll make your way through the eastern quarter ruins for three, perhaps four days. It should be enough time to clear the area and reach the northern line to assist the defence squads holding back the ossaryn.”
Kaden nods slowly. “Understood, and should we have any casualties?”
“You will be supplied with healing tonics and spellcloth to tend to minor injuries, and Brynn can aid in healing, as you know. However, in the event that there is a death, if you cannot bring their bodies back to the border without slowing your advance, then you leave them or bury them where they die.”
Nausea crawls up my throat at his words. The Council cares so little for those who defend Celestria that they won’t even return for comrades’ bodies to give them a proper send-off, to thank them for their sacrifice, for their service, for their bravery.
Kaden only nods; the words are simply a confirmation for him, not surprising news. I can’t even begin to imagine the number of souls he’s been made to leave, rotting in a wasteland, forever trapped on a battlefield.
“Remember,” Professor Aric says, his voice sharp now.
“The east quarter is not what it once was. The ruins are unstable and twisted by decay. The Lacwyvern will use that to their advantage, blending in with their surroundings and hunting as one. They are drawn to weakness, physical and emotional alike, so it is paramount that you keep your shields up the moment you cross the threshold. It could mean the difference between living and dying… for both you and your bonded.”
Professor Aric begins pacing slowly before the long table, his boots echoing against the stone floor.
“Most of you have faced these creatures before. You know what they are. You know what they can do. You know how to injure them, how to kill them.” He stops, eyes sweeping the room.
“Regardless, I want you all to re-familiarise yourself with every creature you could face beyond the wards. I’ve prepared tomes detailing their anatomy, behavioural patterns, and known weaknesses.
Study them. Discuss strategies. You’ll need every advantage you can get. ”
He crosses the expanse of the table, placing tomes in front of us with a quiet thud. The smell of old paper and dust fills the air as we all pull them closer.
“I know you are already well versed in our enemies,” Professor Aric says, softer now, “but even veterans die when they underestimate what lurks beyond the wards. Do not make that mistake.”
I force my attention to the tome before me, its pages heavy and worn, edges darkened by years of handling.
The first few sheets detail the lacwyvern, winged beasts with skeletal frames and scaly grey skin, black feathers edge their wings.
Their heads resemble a dragon's, but with an additional set of eyes that glimmer like polished stone, and mouths lined with countless needle-sharp teeth.
They feed on weakness, both physical and emotional. A single glance can twist your mind against itself, anger curdling into blind rage, grief collapsing into despair, joy warping into mania.
My brow furrows, “Does it actually rain blood when the lacwyvern cry?”
Brynn leans in, her expression grim. “Yeah. It’s as foul as it sounds.”
“Why do they do it?” I ask.
Ronan leans in, tracing a finger to the passage detailing their power to control emotion. “To install fear, mainly. They feed on it, twist it until your heart gives out… makes for an easier meal if you’re already dead and unable to fight back.”
A wave of nausea tightens my stomach.
Ronan catches the look and smirks. “What, blood makes you squeamish?”
I scoff, rolling my eyes. “Hardly. Doesn’t mean I want to bathe in it though.”
He grins and leans closer, voice low and teasing. “I can protect you if you’re scared.”
“She doesn’t need protecting, Washburne. Least of all from you.” Kaden’s tone is clipped and edged with jealousy.
I glance up, eyes narrowing, “Funny, isn’t that what I told you yesterday?”
His jaw clenches, but he doesn’t deem to respond. Ronan only laughs low at my side.
“Chill, Reinheart. I was only playing around. Elysia could wipe the floor with me; we all know it.” Ronan chuckles as my attention turns back to the tome.
Brows furrowed, I ask. “They don’t permanently die?”
Sirena shakes her head, “No, not unless they are struck with lightning, or pure light itself. That’s where I come in.”
I nod in understanding. “So, take one down and call you to finish the job?”
She smiles, voice soft, “Exactly.”
My eyes roam over the recorded information about ossaryn. The notes describe their hunting habits, how they mimic the voices of loved ones and screams of the dead. Though as I read, the sketch catches my attention… they are much bigger than I had imagined, at least eight feet tall.
“Are all ossaryn this big?” I query, tracing the length of one claw with my fingertip.
“Most full-grown are between seven and eight feet,” Thane replies, not looking up. “Elders can reach ten. Even the young stand near four.”
A chill slides down my spine. “Gods, I pictured them no bigger than a hound.”
“If only,” Sirena mutters, “It would make fighting them a dream instead of a nightmare.”
Brynn offers a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, Elysia. Your fire slows them enough for the rest of us to finish them off. If you can’t crush their hearts, you’ll buy us the seconds we need.”
I hum, half to myself, half to the room. “Can you all do that? Crush their hearts, I mean?”
Kaden speaks up, his deep voice sending a flush of heat across my skin.
“No, not everyone.” He meets my eyes for a beat, “Brynn and I can do it with shadows. Thane can freeze and shatter the central organ if he has time. Odette can make their hearts rupture, but all the other abilities only slow them.”
I arch a brow. “So, if I want to kill one, I have to cut out its heart and crush it while hoping I don’t get mauled to death?”
“Precisely,” Thane says evenly. “It’s why squads always have a mage capable of long-range elimination. Close combat is a death sentence.”
I huff, unsettled. “How exhilarating.”
The next page turns beneath my fingertips, a sketch stares back at me, and I swallow. Not quite beast but not quite human, either. Pale, almost translucent-skinned humanoids whose veins glow red with traces of black, like cracks filled with poison. Eyes pure black pits of nothingness.
I shiver, “How likely are we to come across veinborn?”
“Unlikely,” Odette replies softly. “They’re rare. If a horde appears, Kaden or Brynn handles it.”
My gaze flicks between the two. “Why them?”
Kaden clears his throat, “veinborn move as one, controlled by a shared heartbeat. They only stop moving when their central heart is destroyed. Shadows can hit multiple targets at once. They let you take out the network in bursts, but strike the central pulse, then every one of them collapses. Quick, effective, and it keeps us out of touching range.”
“Close combat is suicide,” Brynn says flatly.
“If they touch you, death is all but certain. Your shield might spark and hold a heartbeat or two, but that’s not enough.
They’ll syphon your magic and steal your life force in seconds.
Always try to avoid contact. If you must close, it’s because everything else failed, and then you need to be certain you can kill the central heart immediately. ”
I nod, “How do you know which one has the central heart?”
Ronan leans closer, tapping the page. “Their veins pulse slightly out of sync. The leader’s heartbeat always comes first.”
“So… find the one whose blood beats before the rest?”
“Exactly,” Brynn says. “Just make sure you’re right before getting close.”
The conversation fades into a low hum as I turn the page again, my eyes catching on a new heading.
The Blood Mage.
He stands tall at seven feet, broad and muscular, and veins web across pale skin, blackened like ink beneath glass. His eyes are voids. Fingertips elongated, stained red as if perpetually dipped in blood.
The Blood Mage wields hemocraft, more commonly known as blood manipulation.
Through this art, he links the hearts of multiple individuals, binding their life-force to a shared rhythm.
Once connected, the flow of blood obeys only him.
With a single command, he can slow, seize, or stop every linked heart in unison.
His control extends beyond mere living targets; reports suggest he can sense, follow, and manipulate any being whose heartbeat falls within his range. His magic feeds on proximity; the closer the target, the stronger his influence. Direct confrontation is considered fatal.
My throat goes slightly dry, “The Blood Mage?”
Sirena waves a hand dismissively. “Myth, no confirmed sightings in centuries. Probably just a cautionary tale.”
“Right,” I murmur, though I’m not convinced. The sketch feels too real.
Across the room, Professor Aric calls out, “That concludes the briefing. Go eat and get some rest.”
Chairs scrape and pages close. The low rumble of chatter fills the hall as everyone rises and begins filing out. I gather my things in silence, keeping my gaze fixed anywhere but the shadow at the edge of my vision.
Kaden’s magic brushes faintly against the bond, a cautious pulse.
“Moonfire.”
I ignore it.
A second later, another pulse follows, sharper this time.
“Please. Just talk to me.”
Still, I give him nothing.
I stand and walk towards the doors, my thumb absentmindedly tracing the band of my ring. Just as I reach them, shadows begin to curl around the frame like liquid night, slamming them shut with a resonant thud.
I turn slowly, one hand settling on my hip. My expression is calm, but inside my pulse flickers dangerously fast. “Really?”
Kaden stands several paces back, the low light painting sharp lines across his face.
“We need to talk.”