CHAPTER 55 - Déjà Vu
Flames rolled over Driftwoode's pristine white walls, devouring the beauty that had been there just a moment ago.
The air was thick with smoke, black plumes rising into the sky as screams echoed through the streets.
Below, Thornmont's fire projectiles had torn through the naval lines with merciless precision.
Driftwoode's once-mighty fleet was now nothing but splintered wood and ash, their sails burning as they toppled into the waves.
The few ships that survived cut through the water, rushing to defend the city, but their efforts were scattered, desperate.
It was already too late.
Beside me, Virella clutched the marble balustrade so tightly her golden rings tug into her fingers. Her voice trembled when she spoke, so unlike the woman I knew her to be.
"I never thought my home would burn," she whispered. "I left everything to make sure that this place would stay beautiful... That smoke would never blacken its walls."
My chest tightened painfully. I could feel her grief as though it were my own.
Behind us, the hall rang with raised voices. Cavriel and Lord Corvian were both shouting at the king desperately.
"Use Cascadea!" Corvian begged, his fist slamming against the table. "Drown the flames! Call the kraken and drag Thornmont's fleet to the abyss! Please!"
"At this rate, the city will fall, Your Majesty!" Cavriel explained. "You must do something!"
King Thalrik turned his dull blue eyes toward them, barely acknowledging their words. He remained seated at the table, leaning onto the tide sword like a cane. And when he finally spoke, there was nothing in his voice.
"But I have not finished breakfast..."
Corvian swore violently and stormed out of the hall, armor clattering as he went to rally what soldiers remained. Cavriel stayed, glaring at his king with fury barely contained.
Even I couldn't believe it. I stared at Thalrik, hardly sure he was human. How could a king do nothing while his city burned?
My gaze then returned to the horizon where the black fleet reigned unchallenged, raining death upon the cape. The screams below tore through me, each one stabbing like a knife. Innocent people were dying. Children. Families. This had to stop.
Sylvos...
If I could reach him, I could make him stop. He would listen to me. I had to believe that. But by the time I reached him, Driftwoode would already be ash.
No...
First, I had to stop the fire.
I sucked in a trembling breath, kicked off my shoes, and climbed onto the marble balustrade.
"Raine!" Virella's voice cracked with alarm. "What are you doing?"
I spread my arms to the sky and shouted with all the strength in my lungs.
"Vyvy!"
The wind carried my call, and seconds later, a shrieking shadow pierced the smoke above. Vyvy swooped down through the haze, wings cutting through the rising heat, until the creature perched on my outstretched hands. Its black eyes blinked at me, waiting.
I smiled my gratitude to the creature before whispering my instructions.
Vyvy cocked its head once, then tightened its talons, as if understanding.
"Raine!" Cavriel's voice thundered behind me. He rushed forward, his hand reaching. "Get down from there! You'll die if you fall from that height!"
I turned my head, meeting his gaze. For a heartbeat, I saw something raw in his eyes.
Behind him, even King Thalrik had risen from his seat. He walked slowly, dragging the massive sword behind him like it weighed heavier than the world. His eyes remained empty, dulled by whatever burden bound him, and in that hollow stare, I understood.
I understood why my father had never wielded Fjulgor.
Though every sword's curse was different...
All of them crushed their masters.
"Raine, please," Cavriel said again, his voice breaking. "Come down."
I shook my head.
"No. I'll stop the fire. And then I'll stop Sylvos."
His expression hardened with desperation.
"How? There's an entire fleet out there! You're just one girl—"
A small smile curved my lips.
"Have you forgotten?" I asked. "I'm the girl that makes miracles happen."
Cavriel's eyes widened, swimming with too many emotions to understand.
With that, I raised my arms high and let Vyvy soar into the smoke-filled sky, its wings catching the sunlight like dark fire. The wind whipped around me, tearing at my white gown, and the world seemed to hold its breath.
Then I leapt.
The wind roared in my ears as I plunged toward the city, the marble and rooftops rushing up to meet me. Beside me, Vyvy dove as well, it's body warping and stretching. It grew larger and larger, it's hulking shape taking form.
Just as the ground threatened to crush me, the vylnir twisted beneath me with terrifying grace, its massive wings snapping open. I collided with its back, my hands sinking into its thick black fur as I clung on.
A laugh, wild and triumphant, burst from my lips.
I was flying!
After a thousand lives, I was finally flying again!
The creature's form had settled into something resembling a griffon.
But it was twisted, grotesque, and far larger.
Its body was three times the size of any griffon Griveen had brought, with talons long and curved like drawn swords.
Its beak split into jagged, blade-like teeth, and its eyes remained that eerie blue.
"D????σ? ??? ?ι?? ????υ?????!" I shouted over the wind. "Rιρ ???? αρα??!"
The vylnir let out a piercing shriek that shook my bones and tilted its wings, rocketing toward the black ships like a bolt of lightning.
Meanwhile, fire projectiles still streaked the sky, raining down toward Driftwoode. We weaved between them, the heat of each blaze licking my face.
Suddenly, a ball of fire zipped by close enough to singe my hair, but the vylnir spun sharply, cutting through the smoke without losing speed. My heart hammered with every near miss, but the creature's movements were fluid, almost effortless.
The first ship loomed ahead, its soldiers scrambling on the deck as they spotted us. I saw their mouths open in shouts, weapons raised, but their fear came too late.
With a single, devastating strike, the vylnir's talons tore through the first trebuchet as if it were paper, splinters and fire scattering across the sea. Before the men could react, the beast was already pulling up, soaring high above their heads.
Panic rippled across the fleets. I could see it — the way their formations faltered, the way they hesitated to reload.
They had not expected an attack from the sky.
So, I continued.
Again and again, the vylnir and I tore through them.
From one ship to the next, we made no waste, shredding each fire trebuchet.
Soldiers screamed and scattered, their arrows falling short, useless against a predator too fast to react to.
Every time I felt the raw power of the beast beneath me, its muscles coiling and releasing, I was reminded of my dragon.
Though the vylnir was lethal, Mistfang would've been catastrophic.
One by one, the trebuchets fell, until finally no more fire rained from the skies.
The vylnir beat its massive wings, hovering in place high above the smoking fleet. Its shadow swept over the black sails, and the ships wavered, their decks crawling with soldiers who did not know what to do.
Perhaps I could've done more. I could've tore through their sails or splintered their masts. But I didn't want to destroy them. I wanted to leave the ships intact for a safe escape.
Stopping the fire was enough.
And now...
I had to stop the war.
I glanced beyond Cape Saltmourne's walls, past the curling smoke and burning ships, to the hills where Sylvos' army was.
My lungs tightened, ribs pressing in.
I had to see him.
Before any more blood was shed....
But just as I was about to urge the vylnir forward, Vyvy shrieked sharply and shot upward. The sudden lurch nearly threw me off, but years of dragon riding had taught me how to cling for my life. I steadied myself just as a white blur streaked past my vision.
A griffon.
Its talons swiped at empty air where I'd been a heartbeat ago.
My breath left me as I took in the creature. Its feathers were matted, its flesh marred with black thorns digging deep into its body. It let out a distorted cry, its black eyes glazed with unnatural obedience.
And behind it, about two dozen more filled the sky.
Before I could even process the sight, they attacked.
The first one dove, talons wide. Vyvy twisted sharply, the force pressing me hard against its back.
Then the two creatures clashed midair, the impact a bone-jarring crack of wings and claws.
Yet the vylnir with its size had the advantage.
It tore through the griffon, sending it spiraling into the sea.
But more came.
Their numbers were overwhelming, circling like vultures. The sky filled with feathers and screams. Talons clawed at Vyvy, teeth snapped, and the wind screamed around us as we dove and twisted to avoid being torn apart.
I ducked low as a set of talons grazed my shoulder, the sting of the cut searing through me. Another griffon lunged, nearly unseating me, but Vyvy spun, catching it in its monstrous jaws and hurling it aside.
The battle became a storm — half a chase, half a slaughter. Vyvy's power was unmatched, but the sheer number of attackers chipped away at our control.
One wrong move and I'd be torn free.
A claw ripped across my arm, and I cried out, clutching Vyvy's fur with my other hand. Blood slicked my grip, and the world blurred with pain and adrenaline.
Then a talon hooked my dress, jerking me back.
And I fell.
The sky rushed away, and the city spun wildly beneath me. My stomach lurched into my throat.
Vyvy shrieked, twisting violently to reach me, but the griffons swarmed it, dragging it down.
The wind roared in my ears.
My heart pounded in my chest.
Was this how I'd die?
My last death?
At least it wasn't Sylvos...
But just as the ground rushed up to meet me, something rose instead.
Water.
A sudden torrent streamed upward from the wells scattered through the city, swirling together into a massive bubble that caught me midair. I gasped as the water wrapped around me, holding me as gently as a mother's arms.
Confused and breathless, I looked toward the source.
There, standing on the castle balcony where I had leapt from, was King Thalrik. His lifeless eyes met mine as he held Cascadea with one hand, the massive blade pointing toward me like it weighed nothing at all.
Moving his body in a fluid motion, he pulled the sword back. And the water obeyed, pulling with him like a tide, carrying me effortlessly until I floated back onto the balcony.
Dripping, I stumbled onto the marble floor. With a casual twist of the sword, the water wrung itself from my clothes and fell away, leaving me dry.
I stared up at the old king, breathless. He still looked hollow, his gaze faraway. Yet he patted my shoulder gently, like a grandfather might.
"It's not always about pushing. Sometimes... you have to pull."
Without another word, he turned and walked away, dragging the massive sword again like it weighed heavier than the sea.
I scrambled to my feet, stunned. Then something caught my eye.
The water that had saved me had also spilled over the city as it fell back to the earth, streaming through streets and roofs, dousing the flames that had threatened to devour everything.
My heart swelled, a smile leaping to my face.
Above, the last griffon let out a strangled cry before Vyvy tore it apart, scattering white feathers across the sky. The monstrous beast beat its wings, circling back before landing heavily on the balcony beside me.
Breathing hard, I looked at the creature, my creature, and then at the city again.
It had been saved...
Despite the damage, the fire, the pain... It was still saved.
And Sylvos could be too.
With my resolve hardened, I climbed back onto the vylnir's back.
"Cσ?? σ?, Vyvy," I whispered.
It huffed reluctantly but obeyed. With a shriek, the beast launched itself into the air. And this time, I didn't look back. I pointed toward the distant camp where Thornmont's army waited.
And the vylnir flew straight for them.
I didn't know what I expected to see when I reached those hills... But I certainly wasn't expecting a sight like this.
Encircling the massive encampment was a towering wall of thorns — twisted, black, and glistening in the late sun.
They pulsed faintly, almost alive, and threaded into each other.
There were so many of them, coiling and writhing around the perimeter.
I couldn't understand... Couldn't imagine how Sylvos had managed to conjure such a thing alone.
But that wasn't all.
Further west, where the armies must have clashed earlier, the battlefield was littered with enormous thorned tendrils, burst from the earth like monstrous roots. They sprawled limp across the torn soil, curling in grotesque patterns, with smoke drifting faintly from patches of scorched ground.
My heart pounded.
What had he done?
Thankfully, it seemed both armies had pulled back for now. Neither side was advancing, their camps distant and bristling with tension. They weren't ready for each other. Not yet.
Still flying, I scanned the camp until my eyes found it — Sylvos' tent, larger than the rest, marked by banners that fluttered in the restless wind.
Urging Vyvy lower, we descended toward the camp. Shouts erupted below as soldiers spotted us. Their eyes widened in terror, and they scattered as the vylnir landed with a thunderous impact, talons tearing the ground.
I slid down from its back, my bare feet hitting the earth. The air smelled of ash and blood.
Then the tent's flaps parted, and Sylvos emerged with Briarvex by his side.
He wore dark armor with thorned spikes jutting along the pauldrons, a black cape trailing behind him and snapping in the wind.
His sharp, dark silver crown sat askew, as if he hadn't bothered to fix it.
He looked like he had walked through a storm — his silver hair tangled and streaked with grime.
Blood smeared across his armor, and dark circles marred his bloodshot eyes.
He walked out slowly, his silver hair catching the dying light, his black eyes fixed on me. And he looked calm...
Relief flooded through me.
Oh, thank the gods. He wasn't furious.
"Your Majesty!" I cried, throwing myself toward him.
He caught me effortlessly with one arm, his hand warm against my back. I looked up at him, hope burning in my chest.
"You have to stop the war," I said, breathless. "Pyree won't attack if you pull back. Please, you have to stop this. There are innocent people here. You don't have to take this city."
For a long moment, he only looked at me.
His gaze softened, as though some unseen pain was tearing at him.
But then... his face hardened.
My heart stuttered.
Suddenly, something coiled around my ankles.
I yelped as sharp thorns pierced my flesh, making me stumble. I looked down in shock and saw what was happening. Black vines had erupted from the ground, snaking around my legs. Blood trickled down my skin where the thorns dug in.
The vylnir roared, a deafening sound that shook the air.
It lunged to protect me, but more thorned vines burst from the earth, writhing up like serpents.
They lashed around the creature's legs, its wings, its neck — piercing deep.
Vyvy shrieked in agony, thrashing, but the vines only tightened, dragging it down.
"No! Your Majesty, stop!" I screamed, tears spilling as I struggled to tear the vines from my ankles. The thorns tore into my hands, blood streaking my fingers, but more vines shot upward, wrapping around my arms. They tightened cruelly, cutting my skin, holding me fast.
I panted, my breath trembling, pain lancing through every limb.
Tears blurred my vision as I looked up at him.
"Please," I begged, my voice raw. "Please stop. Don't do this."
But he showed no sympathy. No warmth. Only a cold, empty stare that made my heart splinter.
"Princess Raine Stjorme, for your treason against the crown," he said, his voice like a death knell, "and for the murder of Isolde Flarewyn... you are to be executed at dawn."
What?
My brows shot together in confusion.
"What are you talking about?" I cried, my voice cracking as the vines cut deeper. "When did I kill Isolde? Tell me when!"
But Sylvos had already turned his back to me. His black cape swept through the ash-laden wind as if he hadn't heard a single word.
"No, wait!" I screamed, struggling against the thorns. Pain shot up my legs, hot and sharp, but I didn't care. "Your Majesty! You have to believe me! I didn't do it!"
Two soldiers rushed forward and seized my arms. Their grips were iron, and the thorns around my wrists tore my skin further as they yanked me toward the waiting wagon.
"I didn't kill her!" I shouted, my voice breaking over the growing distance between us. "You know me! You know me!"
But he didn't turn.
Not once.
The thorns snaked back into the earth as the soldiers dragged me away, their faces hard and unmoved. I screamed his name until my throat burned, but the only answer was the cold wind whipping through the camp.
And as the tent vanished from sight, I had the worse feeling...
It was déjà vu.