Chapter 37
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Auraelia
The early arrival of Garnet’s army had thrown hers into disorganized chaos.
Men were filing out of tents, throwing on armor as quickly as they could before strapping on their weapons.
Squadron leaders she recognized from earlier in the day and some she didn’t, hollered commands to wrangle people into formation.
Archers lined the edge of their camp, firing waves of arrows across the field in an attempt to stave off the impending ambush.
Time.
They needed more time.
Turning toward the field, Auraelia dove into her well of power, wrapping a mental fist around the gold and gray threads that connected her to the storm that raged inside her.
Dark clouds rolled across the sky, blotting out the sun as thunder boomed above them.
Closing her eyes, Auraelia took a deep breath, letting the power grow until it threatened to burst from her skin.
When she opened them, she let it all go.
Agonized screams pierced the air as lightning streams rained across the field, setting the grass ablaze across the line of Garnet soldiers and striking down those unlucky enough to be in the path.
As a chorus of cheers rang out around their camp, she expelled a relief-filled breath. She hadn’t wanted to use her magic—had wanted to let it build until she met Davina on the battlefield—but it would be worth it if it gave them the time they needed.
Her hand fell to the hilt of the sword strapped at her side, but a familiar voice called her name as she took a step toward where her men were filing into formation.
“Auraelia!” Ser Aeron called out again, his voice carrying over the camp, pulling her attention over her shoulder.
She could feel the pounding of his horse’s hooves as he rode toward her with Jasira in tow, a canvas bag slung across her saddle.
Dismounting before his horse had come to a complete stop, he demanded, “Where the hell do you think you’re going dressed like that? ”
Pulling the bag from Jasira’s saddle, he dropped it at her feet, knelt, and began tugging at the drawstrings.
“You’re completely exposed.” Ser Aeron paused his ministrations and looked up from where he’d crouched next to the bag. “I know you want to be out there. To stand with your people. But you wouldn’t last more than five minutes out there without this, power or not.”
Auraelia watched as he began pulling out pieces of armor and glanced down at herself to the cotton and leather that covered her frame, internally wincing at the sheer stupidity of what she had intended to do. No trained warrior would walk out into the middle of a battle without armor.
“Where’s your brother?” Ser Aeron demanded as he pulled the last of the segments from the canvas bag and began strapping the greaves to her shins.
“He’s in the tent with Piper.”
“Xander!” he yelled, thrusting the bracers for her forearms into her hands as he stood. “Put these on. Make sure that they’re tight, but don’t restrict movement.”
Within seconds, her brother was barreling through the tent flaps toward them.
His armor was already fastened into place, and his brows furrowed in fierce determination.
But a red rim was around his eyes from unshed tears, and the sight gutted her.
She hated that this was what their lives had come to.
That fate had brought them into this battle, forcing them to deliver goodbyes that may never lead to another hello.
Her heart ached in her chest, and when she turned her gaze away from Xander, she met the hard stare of her Commander General—strength and rage burning in the crystalized amber of his eyes.
While she donned the hardened metal of her soldiers, he was dressed in the traditional garb of the Court of Opal’s warriors, only instead of the ethereal white they were known for, his was dyed the rich green of her court.
Seeing him in the colors of Emerald instead of his natural-born court had Auraelia standing a little taller, her head lifting a fraction higher.
This was the most revered warrior in all of Ixora, and he’d chosen to represent her court on the battlefield.
As if he knew the thoughts swirling in her head, Ser Aeron’s eyes glowed with mirth as a cocky smirk lifted the corner of his mouth, and he sank to a knee with his head bowed. “With my honor and my life, Your Majesty. I will see you on the battlefield, and may we meet again.”
“May the Goddesses of Arcelia guide and protect you, Ser Aeron.”
As he rose, he clasped arms with Xander and gave him a slight bow of his head. “My Prince. Help her into the rest of her armor. I need to get to the front lines before Garnet’s troops figure out a way through your sister’s line of fire. Can you do that?”
Xander gave him a curt nod, straightening his spine as he turned toward Auraelia. The commander mounted his horse and rode away.
A tense silence settled between them as he stooped to grab her breastplate from where it rested on the ground. Persisted as he meticulously ran the leather through the buckles at her side, pulling them taut until there was barely a sliver of space between the front and back plates.
His lips were set in a tight line as he worked to protect every inch of her person.
Every breath he took was ragged like it was taking everything he had not to run back into the tent and hold Piper in his arms. And if anyone understood what that felt like, it was her.
They'd lost so much already, but through time, they’d gained more in return.
And because of that, they had all the more to lose.
She knew that her battle with Davina would be the hardest to win.
Didn’t know what the outcome would be. But she knew that Xander and Piper deserved more than their world had given them.
And though she couldn’t guarantee them the time they deserved, she could at least give them a chance.
As Xander rested the final pauldron on her shoulder, Auraelia released a sorrowful sigh and broke the heavy silence. “Protect Piper.”
His gaze shot to hers, his eyes wide before narrowing in confusion. “Auraelia—”
“I mean it, Xander. Stay with her. Shield her. She needs you more than I do.”
“I can’t just leave you, Rae. You know I can’t,” he spat back angrily.
She firmly wrapped her hand around his wrist when he pulled the last strap taut.
“You can, and you will. You both need to survive this. If there is one last thing you ever do for me, make it this. Protect my friend. Love her the way only you can, and see her through to the other side of this war. Please.”
His head shook from side to side, his lips pinched together as he blew out an aggravated breath through his nose. “Don’t ask this of me, Rae.”
“I shouldn’t have to. I know what she is to you. What you are to her. Protect that at all costs. I didn’t when I should have. Don’t make the same mistakes I did. Hold tight with both hands and fight for what you share. If I don’t make it through this—”
“Auraelia—”
“No, Xander, listen to me. If I don’t make it through this, you’re going to need each other.
Davina won’t stop at just me, so take Piper and run.
Be together. Live the life you both crave and deserve away from all of the court politics.
Have tiny raven-haired babies with our family’s eyes.
But for the love of every Goddess, just live. Promise me, Xander.”
His eyes lingered on hers, resentment swirling in their depths as silence settled between them. With a resigned sigh, he asked, “You’re not even going to give me a choice in this?”
“I’m telling you to choose her, Xander, not as your Queen, but as your sister. Choose. Her.”
Auraelia released her hold as Xander let out a disgruntled huff, his tongue running across his teeth behind his lips. “Your ultimatums really suck, you know that?”
“You can thank me for them later when we make it through this. Now come on, the end of the world awaits.”
As Auraelia’s blade sliced across the throat of yet another soldier in crimson armor, the world seemed to spin around her in a blur.
Time moved differently in the heat of battle.
Each second felt like hours, each hour a month that seemed to bleed into a year.
She had no idea how long they’d been fighting back Davina’s army, but as the hours ticked by, there was still no sign of her or Caius.
Auraelia grunted as she spun to meet another blade with her own, the crash reverberating down into her hand, threatening the hold she kept on her hilt.
No amount of training could have prepared her for the exhaustion creeping in with each swipe of her sword.
It didn’t matter how many times she told herself that lives would be lost; being the one to take their futures from them for no other reason than they were on the wrong side of history would forever be a heavy weight on her soul.
She didn’t want this.
Didn’t want to be the villain in anyone’s story. But that’s precisely what she’d become as another unknown name was added to the death toll. She knew she couldn’t continue to dwell on the hand fate had dealt her. All she could do was walk the path and pray she came out with a winning hand.
So, with a ragged breath, Auraelia let herself go numb.
Let her mind filter out the faces and screams of those around her, and let her instincts guide her.
Pulling her dagger from the sheath on her thigh, she let her magic channel into the emerald blade as she launched it into the neck of an enemy who had the advantage over one of her men.
When it landed true, she sprinted toward the fallen soldier, thwarting advances with each step she took until her blade was in her hand once more.