Chapter 16
Sixteen
Charoite
As the last rays of light disappear beneath the horizon, we land on a rocky sandbar.
It stretches farther than I can see, the boulders tall and lining almost every inch of sand.
The wyverns gather at the mouth of a cave, their Riders stretched out on top of them and lounging with their arms propped behind their heads.
Some of the village Riders have opted for sitting in the sand, their backs leaning against their beasts. Everyone is so content and at peace. Bitterness coats my tongue as I watch them laughing and taking out parchments filled with meat and cheese from their bags.
How do they sleep at night knowing the darkness that awaits the realm?
I slide off Zeph, my boots sinking into the sand. She nudges my side; a soft whine stirs in her chest, and she swings her head to face me. I sigh and press my forehead against hers, drinking in the smooth warmth of her scales.
“Glad to see you all made it here,” Willow’s light voice says from behind me. “There’s something we’d like to show you.”
Zeph nudges me gently, pushing me toward Willow.
I give her a final glance over my shoulder and join my fleet where Willow and Aster are waiting near the mouth of the cave. Orla asks them about this place, but I keep my gaze on our surroundings, staying near the back of the group.
Calix drops back to walk with me, his eyes on the village Riders as we pass.
“It’s weird, isn’t it?” he asks quietly. “How out of touch they are with the realm.”
I nod my head. A squeal and a laugh come from our left as an Undine girl splashes a Woodland boy in the face with a spout of water.
“It almost doesn’t feel…” I search for the word.
“Real,” Calix finishes for me. “None of this feels real.”
No, it certainly doesn’t. It could be almost believable that perhaps the people of Kauri are sheltered from the things happening between Penyth and Crea.
They live so secluded from the mainland that it would be easy to miss the news that spreads from village to village.
That Willow and Aster keep things to themselves—since they seem to be the ones in charge—is a possibility, but the villagers would’ve found out when the wyverns started to arrive.
Hard to ignore creatures that only appear in times of war.
And yet, here they are—lounging on a rocky beach as the stars twinkle to life. Meanwhile, my skin itches to be anywhere else. To be planning where we’re going next or marching myself right up to the Shadow Lands and demanding Vidaris to take me instead of Graylen.
But I also can’t ignore Brielle’s interest in hearing Willow and Aster out, or the way Zephyr keeps pushing me toward them. So, I stay silent as Calix and I follow the group into the depths of the cave.
Soft chatter bounces off the cave walls, the air damp and salty. The deeper we get, the darker it becomes. A fire flares to life from my palms, bright enough to light the path ahead but still leaving us partially encased in darkness.
My hair stands on end, feeling as if the dark behind us is a physical presence imposing itself closer with every step we take.
Calix leans over and asks, “Where’s Leda?”
“Talking to Adrian and the Lyles.” I look sideways at him, a look of understanding passing between us. There are too many ears in the cave—too much to explain with Adrian being the King of Crea and Duke Wyman’s identity.
He snorts. “Talking.”
The corners of my mouth tug up. He knows as well as I do that Leda’s version of talking to the prisoners probably includes putting the fear of Eurydice in them.
“Do you think Leda will get anything new out of them about Moros?” I ask to distract myself.
Adrian and the Lyle brothers might not know that Duke Wyman is Moros, but they could’ve seen something that’ll help us. If Moros is acting on Vidaris’s behalf—controlling the human realm and preparing an army to move on Penyth—then no amount of information is too small.
Calix huffs a bitter laugh. “They’re stubborn, but so is Leda.
” He shakes his head, and we glance at each other, another knowing look passing between us.
If anyone could get them talking, it would be her.
“But Adrian hasn’t seemed inclined to help us before we got here.
I have to say, Lu, I don’t see what you saw in the man. ”
Memories rise of the boy I once knew—the one who sat with me outside the market and listened to me tell him stories of my childhood, the same boy who found a way to get me out of the camp…even if the castle was just a prettier prison.
“You and me both,” I mumble.
We reach the end of the cave—or a dead end where it collapsed. Rubble fills the path, stopping us from going any further.
“Here,” Aster calls out, leading us over to the right side of the rubble.
He motions for me to step up to provide light, though the only thing there is the smooth, damp rock wall. Everyone shuffles closer as my fire dances across the slick surface.
“What are we looking for exactly?” Calix asks, his voice tense.
But the closer we get, the more I can make out shapes etched into the wall. At first glance, it looks like senseless scribbles. I tug on my Essence, my blood humming with delicious heat as my fire burns brighter, illuminating a larger mass of the rock.
They aren’t scribbles—they’re depictions of fae and humans, the fae easily discernible with sharp ears and elongated bodies, the humans marked by their rounded ears and shorter frames.
On the far left side, a fae is surrounded by stars, the moon covered by clouds beside him. He holds a dagger in his hand, the blade filled in white like the rest of the outlines. Lightning spears through the stars beside him, the blade lifted into the air.
To the right of that picture is a tree with a fae kneeling in front of it, holding the same blade in his hands. There’s no way to tell if it’s the same fae as the other picture, just that they’re both male. But a shadow is cast over the fae in front of the tree, as if darkness clings to him.
Further to the right, another image is drawn.
This one is far different from the others.
A fae male is depicted stabbing a human, a crown atop the human’s head.
The moment I see the jagged line across the human’s eye, I know that it’s Moros—the very man who posed as the duke and has lived for centuries on dark magic.
This part must be the story the council told—of the last human king who caused darkness to fester in the empire, stoking the flames of war. They explained how he was killed—a fatal wound that there was no coming back from… Only, he found a way to survive it.
I shudder and force myself to keep examining the etchings, my gaze falling to the last one.
My eyes widen, and I take a step back.
“What is this?” I breathe.
Willow turns to me, her gaze passing over all of us, her expression half-hidden by the shadows cast from the fire.
“A story left for someone to find,” Willow whispers. “The story of a dagger that can pierce through any darkness, cut through the darkest of evils.”
She pauses, her attention turning to the story displayed across the rock. I drag my gaze back to the last image, to where the lunaria flower is wrapped around the blade plunged into the human king’s stomach.
“Nightfall,” Calix breathes, his voice filled with quiet awe. “I thought it was just a legend?”
Aster reaches up, his fingers grazing the rocky surface. “It is very much a real thing.”
I can’t look away from the lunaria pods wrapped around the dagger. My chest tightens more the longer I look at it.
Aster continues, “We don’t fully understand the images, but—”
“It’s a lunaria plant,” I whisper. “The flowers wrapped around the dagger.”
Everyone turns to me, but my gaze remains on the dagger and flower.
“You’re sure?” Willow pushes, her voice rising an octave.
I nod slowly, feeling the weight of everyone’s gazes on me.
“Blessed Divine,” Willow mutters. “We have a lot to discuss.”
They have a lot more to discuss than we do.
“How did you come across this?” Calix questions.
Aster presses a hand to the wall, his brows pulled together as he gazes at it.
“After the war, it was hard to be around the places I used to be, so I volunteered for a sea patrol unit,” he begins, his eyes growing distant as he stares at the damp stone wall.
“It was something the council, Queen Evelina, and King Senna had put in place early on. No one knew if the curse of the split was temporary or if it was a rift to divide our land forever.”
Aster swallows, his voice tight as he continues. “There weren’t many of us—just enough to cycle through, ensuring things remained the same. Ryug had been called back to his slumber when I joined the sea unit.”
Willow reaches over and places her hand in Aster’s; his fingers instantly curl around hers.
“One day, I ventured too far—much further than the perimeters set for patrol.” His jaw tightens, and he takes a deep breath.
“There was a bad storm with currents far stronger than any Undine could swim against. It carried me away from the mainland and onto the sandbar we took you all to. This was before anyone knew Kauri existed, or that this island was here at all.”
Understanding surges through me as his story continues. My stomach swirls with unease, knowing what he is going to say next. Something led him to this cave.
“I was exhausted, with no choice but to go into the cave to rest, praying to Eurydice I would be able to find my way back home.” Aster laughs bitterly.
“There’s only so much land to explore in Penyth, always a way to eventually find a village that would be able to point you in the direction back home.
“But the sea? She’s an unforgiving tempest with a never-ending, soulless void.” He looks at Willow, his voice raw. “To be lost at sea is to not only lose one’s life, but to lose one’s hope of ever being found.”
I shiver, feeling the weight of his words settle around the room. Maddox stares at him with a look of understanding filling his gaze. Aster clears his throat and lifts his eyes, taking a moment to meet all of our stares.
“When morning came, I woke up and explored the cave, my body still weak from fighting against the current half the night,” he continues.
“I found the drawings, hardly enough sunlight from the mouth of the cave to see by. But I knew it was about Nightfall, and it felt like a sign. It was as if Eurydice wanted me to find it.”
I can’t deny that it feels as if he was meant to find that cave. He didn’t just stumble upon it by pure luck—he had to have been pushed there by fate in one way or another.
“And you’re certain you weren’t led there by someone setting you up?” Calix’s voice is surprisingly sharp, a glimpse into the warrior hiding beneath his easy smile. “We all know Eurydice guides us into things we cannot understand, but she is not the only goddess among the Divine.”
The air thickens as silence stretches between them.
Calix voiced what everyone was likely thinking: that a goddess like Vidaris could’ve pushed Aster to that cave.
The memory of the fox outside of Astern floods my mind—of how Vidaris brought a false sign to me, tricking me into believing it was my time to see Eurydice at the Celestial Temple.
“What good would that do the darker of the Divine?” Willow steps in, her gaze hard on Calix. “You know the stories as well as I do. Nightfall is what Senna used to kill Moros; it was strong enough to tear through the vile dark magic keeping him alive.”
My chest tightens, and I briefly close my eyes. They don’t know that Moros didn’t die that night. Any hope that I had of this weapon being useful to us dies with her words. They were chasing something that wasn’t real.
Even with the images in the cave depicting that same story, I had hoped they learned more—that there was more to this legendary weapon than the false story of Moros’s death.
“Kauri is a gift from Eurydice—not just this cave,” Willow says slowly, her eyes ablaze. “When we realized that, we had no choice but to take up her call. Everyone here answered what she asked of us.” She looks at Aster.
“What did she ask of you?” I press, needing to know more.
This time, Willow’s gaze finds the drawing on the wall. I follow her stare, inspecting the jagged drawings closer than before.
Nightfall looks almost like a regular blade, something forged for any person with enough money to pay a blacksmith for it.
But the longer I stare at the picture of the dagger, the more a tug in the center of my chest starts to pull me toward it. My eyes lock on it, the rest of the drawings going black in my vision as Nightfall becomes more prominent.
Something about this doesn’t seem right. There’s a magic surrounding the images that feels ancient. Wrong. Like it’s been dormant for a millennium and now it’s peeking open a primeval eye right at me.
I recoil, not wanting to find out what that means.
Then a soft buzzing presses against my ears, and the world begins to drift away—the only thing left is the rough etching of the blade on the rock. My thoughts—and hesitations—melt away, trickling into a puddle of nothingness.
My feet move before I realize I’m doing it, just as a tingling begins in the tips of my fingers. My blood begins to rush through my body, as if unable to refuse the pull drawing me in. I almost miss Willow whisper, “It’s how we stop Vidaris.”
Someone answers her, but their words are muted as I stop with my nose nearly touching the wall.
“Lunaria?” a warm voice questions, but I don’t stop—can’t stop. The world is muffled and distant as the voices around me fade beneath the steady rhythm of my heart.
My fingers itch to touch it, to feel the cool, uneven surface. To trace the slope of the blade from point to hilt. The buzzing in my ears travels across my skin, scattering goosebumps as it envelops me whole.
My muscles tighten in my shoulder blades, holding me back from answering the mysterious magic drawing me in. I still don’t know what influence Vidaris has on the world around me.
The memory of the fox she sent to me—a false sign we all believed was from Eurydice—comes to mind. This could be another trick from her, a way to coax me into her darkness.
But it could be a sign from Eurydice, too. A real one this time.
The odds are half in my favor, while the other half could mean a mistake that costs me my life…and the lives of those around me.
Once again, the pull of the images flares up, causing my feet to shuffle closer. It feels warm. Welcoming. Something dark couldn’t possibly feel this safe…right?
I reach up, a muted scream crying out from somewhere far away as my palm presses against the rock.
The buzzing stops, and all I see is darkness.