34. Divine Mandate #3
She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them. “He promised me a year of reprieve for you. From Estar. That we’d assess the Shields, whether abstinence truly affected them. I...bargained for it.”
Kailorien’s jaw flexed. “And what did you promise in return?”
She glanced away. “He hasn’t asked for anything.”
A beat passed. Two.
“Now I’m starting to think…he was just toying with me.”
Kailorien’s hand dropped away, his voice menacing. “That isn’t how he operates.”
She flinched, and he softened his tone, but the words stayed hard. “He doesn’t say anything without consequence. If he gave you something, Auryn...then he’s already written the cost in blood.”
She hugged him tighter. “I want to say that I would pay it, if I could just spare you one more night like the one I witnessed all those years ago. If I could shield you from that—Kail—there is very little I wouldn’t agree to.”
Kailorien held her a moment longer, his arms tightening around her, then exhaled slowly through his nose. He didn’t say 'I understand'. He didn’t need to. Instead, his hand slid from her back, and he stepped away.
“Alright,” he said, his voice grounding both of them. “Enough shadows for now. Let’s make sure you can shoot straight when the day comes.”
She nodded, pushing her emotions down like a lock clicking into place.
We can worry about Shu’Khan later, she told herself. For now, I need to focus.
She wiped her palms on her trousers and stepped into the center of the ring, Kailorien following close behind.
She turned—just in time for him to step into her space.
Not touching. Not quite. But his heat brushed her shoulder.
He reached around her, slow as molasses, to pull the training bow from the wall.
The whisper of his breath at her ear made her spine straighten. “Let’s see what you’ve retained.”
He placed the bow in her hand, but didn’t step back. His fingers lingered, gliding up the curve of her arm to adjust her grip. When she tensed, he chuckled under his breath.
“Relax. You’re already overcorrecting.”
“I’m not nervous.”
“Didn’t say you were.”
“You’re underestimating me.”
“Show me then.”
He slipped behind her, pressing just close enough for her to feel the outline of his chest against her back. His hand found her waist, steadying her as she notched the first arrow.
His palm lingered.
Squeezed.
She exhaled through her nose. “Are you going to correct my stance or grope my hip?”
He grinned at her tone, low and fond. “Hard to say. Your stance is crooked.”
She loosed the arrow in defiance—watched it thunk squarely into the target’s center.
He gave a low whistle. “Not bad.”
Auryn’s heart clenched. She reached for her braid again. “Thessia said the same thing once.”
The silence that followed was full. A moment shared between the living and the lost.
Kailorien’s hand dropped from her waist. “I miss her too,” he admitted. “She was…different.”
"Zarrek returned…what if…"
"Auryn, too many years have passed. Even if she survived at Stonewake, humans do not live as long as—"
"I know," she cut in, squeezing the violet ribbon. "I know. Just…don't say it. Let me hope, even if it is folly." Auryn waited until the stinging in her eyes passed. She let out a long exhale then smiled. “She’d laugh if she could see us now.”
“I think she’d cry. Then laugh. Then probably threaten to kill me again.”
Auryn's chest ached, but she pushed her grief aside and focused on the task ahead.
They moved through drills for a while—form corrections, moving shots, timed rounds.
Every now and then, his hand would slide along her back to adjust her posture or his voice would drop low as he murmured instructions into her ear.
She tried not to think about the way her heartbeat spiked each time.
After an hour or so, she lowered the bow and shook out her arms.
“I want to try something,” she said, reaching for the mana bracer at her wrist. “I’ve been working on a spell. I’ve combined the backbone of containment webs with Weaving to create platforms that can hold weight for a brief moment of time.”
His brows lifted. “Like floating footholds?” he asked.
“Exactly. If I can master it, I could chain them across the air during a fight. It would change everything.”
“You want to spar?” he asked, voice thick with interest.
“I want to win.”
He grinned—openly this time. “Then let’s see your skill.”
They took their positions. Her hands moved fast, Weaving the first platform in a shimmer of gold and silver light. She darted forward, bow discarded, and summoned a second just ahead—leapt from the first…
And nearly fell.
The platform dipped with her weight, wobbling under her boot. Kailorien lunged, blade swinging in a controlled arc. She jumped again, the second platform barely holding. The third vanished before she could land.
He caught her mid-plummet, one arm bracing under her back, the other under her thighs—except the fall had pulled her low enough that now…
Now she sat in his arms, his hand beneath her backside, their faces inches apart.
Her breath caught.
His eyes flicked to hers, then to her mouth, then back again.
“You could’ve just asked me to hold you,” he teased, voice husky.
She winked at him. “Quite inappropriate for training, Resh’Agar.”
“And yet,” he said, “you haven’t moved.”
His hand shifted. She shivered.
Her stomach groaned loud enough to echo off the dome.
They both froze. Across the ring, Zarrek and Lu’ma glanced their way.
Auryn slapped a hand over her face. The skin beneath burned.
Kailorien’s lips curled into a crooked grin. “You hungry, starlight?”
“The Sokar makes a motion to forget this ever happened.”
“Motion rejected. Your Resh’Agar has a better idea.”
He straightened, tossing her over his shoulder before she could protest.
“Kail!” she shrieked, laughing. “Put me down!”
“Not until I feed you. You’ve been working hard. Thessia would haunt me if I let you faint mid-flirt.”
She beat her fists lightly against his back. “You are an irredeemable brute.”
He carried her toward the inner sanctum hallway, his voice a low rumble. “Maybe. But I’m your brute. And I plan to keep you alive long enough to teach you how to fly.”
Auryn looked up at the air where her last platform had vanished. A path not yet walked. A future not yet caught. But, someday soon, she would wrap her hands around it.
From across the ring, Lu’ma signed, 'The meal trays for Her Radiance are in the bathing chamber. The water and runes await. Call upon This Nameless if further is required.'
Auryn’s blush darkened. Not only had Lu’ma fetched the trays ahead of time, but she’d known to put them in the baths. On top of that, she’d already prepared the Lustrals.
“Void help me. We’ve become predictable.”
Kailorien smirked. “I quite like it.”
Behind them, the ring fell silent once more. But the air shimmered where her platforms had hung—a promise of flight, not yet mastered.
Despite Kailorien’s bold declarations, Auryn hadn’t let him feed her first. From the moment they stepped into the bathing chamber, passion unfurled like wings, carrying them on heated currents long into the dark.
Through touch and breath, they found home in one another’s arms, returning again and again to the shelter of the Bond.
After joining in that sanctuary once, they lay still and breathless, fingers tracing each other’s bliss in languid patterns over sweat-damp skin.
The air hung thick with Lustral magic, scented steam, and the faint azure haze of Kailorien’s Breathweaving.
Each breath still hummed with him, the taste of his mana clinging to her tongue like an indulgence she’d savor for hours to come.
She hadn’t needed it—but that hardly mattered anymore. In recent years, he gave her his Silari breath whether her reserves called for it or not. Her soul always yearned for the caress of his mana in the world-weary caverns of her heart.
The mana in the air shivered from their union, undulating around their bodies as Auryn sat astride him on the marbled ledge within the pool.
Her cheek rested against his chest, moving with the steady rise and fall of him—his heartbeat a deep, constant drum beneath her ear.
The warm water soaked into her thighs, but his skin beneath her was hotter still—a slow-burning heat that seeped into her bones.