Chapter 73 – Azaria
AZARIA
The morning air was crisp; the ring still damp with dew. I stepped inside expecting to find it empty, but Elias was already there, sword resting across his knees as he sat on the edge of the platform. He’d been waiting for me. I could tell by the set of his shoulders.
He looked up when I entered, resolve written on his face. He was quiet, but I could feel him waiting. “Are you all right, Captain?” Elias asked carefully.
I walked closer. “Fine.”
He didn’t move. “It’s not like you to let things fester.”
“We’ve got work to do,” I said, reaching for my sword. “Plenty to keep busy with.”
Another silence. I didn’t look up.
“Azaria—“
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
Elias spoke again, his voice low and even. “He had no choice in what happened. His magic did this, not him.”
Anger flared hot. My fists clenched at my sides.
“No choice?” My voice cut. “He had a choice, Elias. He had a choice to tell me when he figured it out. He had a choice to be honest when I asked him, and he lied. Don’t stand there and talk to me about no choice when he had plenty. I’m fucking tired of the ‘lack of choice’ excuse, so spare me.”
Elias didn’t flinch. He studied me, calm in a way that only made the heat under my skin burn hotter.
“Try to be in his shoes,” he said evenly. “Months of hearing every breath you took, every flicker of feeling, without ever asking for it. Do you think that was easy for him? Do you think he wanted to drown in you like that?”
My chest tightened. “Don’t,” I snapped. “Don’t you dare turn this on me. I never asked for it either, and I sure as hells never gave him permission.”
“I know.” He held my gaze unflinching. “But shutting him out completely? Pretending he doesn’t exist? You put up those runes and now he feels nothing from you. Do you know what that silence is doing to him?”
A bitter laugh tore from my throat. “So first he was suffering because he had to endure my feelings, and now he’s unraveling because he can’t feel them? Which one is it, Elias? I’m losing track.”
His mouth tightened, but he didn’t look away. “Both. That’s the point. He’s damned if he does, damned if he doesn’t. And so are you, if you keep this wall between you.”
I folded my arms tight across my chest, heat burning up my neck. “No. The only thing I’m damned by is his silence on the matter. So you tell him to stay the hells away from me.”
The common room was crowded by mid-afternoon, the air thick with the scent of oiled leather and rain-soaked cloaks.
Reports were scattered across the table: patrol maps, inventory lists, requisition notes.
Kael was already hunched over the map, tracing a route with the end of his dagger.
Zephyr lounged at the far end, spinning a ring of keys on his finger, while Elias watched quietly from his usual spot by the hearth, taking it all in.
Kalias was a silent shadow at my feet, sprawled on the worn rug beside my chair—a wolf, as he’d become in recent weeks.
His fur pressed against my boots, solid and warm, a silent reassurance beneath the morning’s noise.
My fingers found his thick ruff now and then, grounding myself in the steady rise and fall of his breath.
This was one of our bigger assignments—the outer Tempest patrol. A wide stretch of territory to cover, all the way to the border of Velmara. There was too much ground for us to stay together, even if that was how we worked best. Today, we’d have to split.
“Western route’s the marshes and the old mill,” Kael said, glancing over his shoulder at Zephyr and Lirael. “Want to guess who’s drawing the short straw?”
Zephyr smirked. “Long as you don’t get us lost in that fog again, I’ll take my chances.”
Lyra, arms folded, glared at Zeph across the table. “You’re not leading this time. I’m not wading through another swamp because you heard a ’shortcut’ from a fisherman.”
He grinned, full of mischief. “That shortcut saved us half an hour?—“
“And cost me a pair of boots,” Lyra shot back, shoving his shoulder.
Lirael and Thorne were sorting through gear lists, voices low. Thorne nodded at something said beside him, then replied quietly. There was an answer—muffled, beyond my focus—but I kept my attention on the map.
I circled the assignment sheet. “Kael, Zephyr, Lyra—western route. Marshes to the old mill.” I traced the map. “Elias, Reyna, Lirael—eastern border along the ridge. Thorne, you’re with me and Kalias on the northern pass.”
I paused, eyes still on the parchment. “Dain, you handle the quartermaster for supplies and weapons. Scare him into obedience if you have to.”
Dain smiled faintly. “He knows better than to argue with me.”
Kael groaned. “And what do we do if he actually faints this time?”
“We step over him and take what we need,” I said, flipping the roster page. “Don’t slow us down.”
A pause. Then, quietly, from across the room: “Where do you want me?”
My hand stilled on the parchment for half a heartbeat. “Wherever Elias needs you.”
Silence. Then footsteps, moving away.
Thorne, still half-turned, passed a pair of gloves to someone at his side and muttered something that earned a quiet laugh in return—low, familiar, not directed at me. I didn’t look.
Kalias stretched, bumping his head lightly against my calf. I absently scratched behind his ear as Reyna came over, pausing by my elbow as the others jostled and packed their gear. She kept her voice low. “Are you all right, Az?”
I kept my eyes on the list. “Fine,” I said, too flat, too quick.
She squeezed my arm, eyes searching my face. I forced a smile, brittle and unconvincing, and returned to the paperwork.
Kael tossed a rolled map to Zephyr. “If you lose this one, I’m putting you on compass lessons for a month.”
Zephyr stuck out his tongue. “Only if Lyra promises not to drown me in the bog.”
Lyra, exasperated, flicked his ear. “No promises.”
Elias stepped close, dropping a folded note on the stack. He didn’t say anything, but his gaze lingered a second longer than usual. I gave a curt nod, grateful for the silence.
Someone moved past my chair, a flash of dark fabric at the edge of my vision.
The familiar scent of steel and smoke—I didn’t let myself place it.
Kalias shifted, huffing quietly, a low warning rumble I felt more than heard.
Another set of hands checked straps and pouches, voices weaving through the noise.
I realized I was gripping Kalias’s fur a little too tightly. I loosened my fingers.
“Let’s meet by the stables in fifteen,” I called out, voice carrying over the chatter. “Check your packs—if you forget something, you’re walking back alone.”
There was a scatter of replies, boots thudding, laughter mixing with groans of protest. The room emptied slowly, squad members drifting out in pairs, Thorne pausing to say something quietly again to a presence I wouldn’t acknowledge.
I stayed behind to finish the last of the paperwork, Reyna lingering at my side for a moment longer before heading out.
It was only then, as the noise faded and the last of them left, that I let myself breathe—one hand still buried in Kalias’s fur, feeling his silent, unwavering support. I finished sorting the paperwork, stacking it with careful precision, then sat back, letting the silence settle around me.
Dain doubled back, pausing in the doorway. “Are you coming?”
I nodded, not trusting my voice. “Yes. I need a minute,” I said softly.
He lingered for a moment longer. His presence touched the edge of my mind—gentle, familiar. I let my guard slip, lowering the wall enough to let him in. I’m right here, came the silent reassurance, clear as spoken words.
A small smile tugged at my mouth. Dain understood; he always did. With a last nod, he left me alone—except for Kalias, who stayed sprawled at my feet, silvery-blue eyes watching me.
For a long moment, I sat there, hand still buried in the wolf’s thick fur. The echo of the squad’s laughter lingered in the air, but I couldn’t bring myself to move.
I told myself I was doing the right thing.
That a line had to be drawn, trust had to mean something.
But the longer I sat in the quiet, the more hollow it sounded.
I hadn’t spoken his name in days. Hadn’t met his eyes, hadn’t let myself listen for the footsteps I knew too well.
I could live with it. But all I’d managed was to build another cage—one that held me as tightly as it held him.
Kalias nuzzled my hand, a low rumble of comfort vibrating through his chest. I let out a shaky breath, then straightened, smoothing a hand over his head, and forced myself to my feet.
The others were waiting. I had a patrol to lead.