8. Chapter 8
Cold stone seeped into Vaelin’s knees but he didn’t feel it. His fingers dug into the cracks in the stone floor, knuckles white. He didn’t even remember hitting the ground.
His eyes burned, staring at the spot where she’d been. One moment, she had been there. All flame and fury, screaming her defiance against the fire that consumed her, beautiful and horrific. The next, she was gone — a streak of fire arcing down the mountain like a vengeful star torn from the sky.
Blood dripped down his arm. The tang of burnt hair hung in the air, churning his gut. He couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. She had been right there. Right there. And he hadn’t done anything.
He was vaguely aware of Evric beside him, Aurelia gripping his arm, healing the gouges her nails had left there. She spoke, but her voice sounded far away, muffled. Vaelin stared past them both, unblinking, at the impossibly clear blue sky.
A gentle wind brushed his cheek and the spell snapped. Sound returned all at once, sharp and jagged. Screams, voices edged with terror, disbelief, and fury crashing through the stillness.
His eyes snapped up at Aurelia, blinking rapidly.
She cupped his cheek in one hand, tears streaming down her face and blue eyes swirling with anguish.
Beside him, Evric murmured apologies he couldn’t process, his hand clasped on Vaelin’s shoulder.
Vaelin wrenched his gaze from Aurelia’s, looking over his shoulder.
The courts were in chaos, unravelling.
General Maeylar retched on his knees in the corner of the room.
Vaelin’s own gut churned threateningly. Thane boomed his fury, his pale face contrasting oddly against his bright hair.
He pointed an accusatory finger at Lunaris, eyes sparking as he screamed accusations.
Vaelin had never seen the shadowwielder look shaken, but he did now, turning to spit a retort at the firewielder, shadows swirling around his feet like startled snakes.
Vaelin flinched as Naerina screamed in anguish, tears sliding down her face like running water as she clutched at her own chest, Maris standing in front of her as though looking for something tangible to fight.
Cirella alone remained in her seat, staring at the place where Sereth had stood moments before, pale and unmoving, her eyes wide and brimming with unspent tears.
The King shouted above the din, attempting to regain order. Then, the Queen stumbled, her cough coming thicker than before, her breathing more laboured. Thane backpedaled hastily away from her, tripping on his overturned chair.
“Enough of your foolishness!” The King barked at the red-haired fae, sparks shooting from his fingertips.
But he growled as he noticed Thane had not been the only one to place distance between themselves and his wife.
Vaelin watched the King struggle to keep his face smooth, to hold his fury in check.
In bold contrast to the others, Aurelia moved swiftly to the Queen’s side, offering her a supportive arm and murmuring in her ear as she helped her retake her seat at the head of the table.
A flush burned Thane’s face and neck. “Did you not just witness what the rest of us did? This Withering - it’s clear the Queen suffers from the same ailment. I’ve no desire to be taken down with her.”
The King growled like an animal unleashed, his silver eyes flashing. Vaelin’s gut rolled with nausea and he clenched his hands into fists.
“So now you believe Sereth Starfire?” Lunaris sneered, voicing Vaelin’s thoughts.
His voice was steady, but his skin remained leached of what little colour it usually held.
“Is this what it took to convince you?” He met the eyes around the chamber, his rising voice echoing off the stone ceiling, “To convince all of you?”
“Oh Gods. Oh my Gods. ” Naerina repeated on a loop, voice a strained whisper as she clenched Maris’ forearm, her nails digging half moons into the Tidecaller’s skin. “Oh gods. Oh gods. It will come for us all.”
Lunaris stalked around the council table.
“The first awakening of a Dreamwalker in an age wasn’t enough?
” He flung an arm out in Maeylar’s direction, “Our most celebrated Windborne warrior and his entire battalion felled by a shadow army, leaving nothing but screams and ash in its wake — still not enough?” He motioned to a shaking Naerina, “What of the indomitable Orion Shipbreaker’s fleet swallowed in its entirety by the sea? My. Ignorance must truly be bliss.”
“Fuck you, Lunaris,” Thane thundered. “And someone do something about that smell!” He swiped at his nose, eyeing the Windborne. Cirella snarled but flicked her wrist, a powerful wind blowing through the room. A thick, tension-filled silence settled in its wake.
Vaelin rose, swaying on his feet, rage billowing in his aching chest. He felt Cirella’s eyes on him, heard his name distantly, but it felt like something sharp had burrowed deep into his sternum, rendering him silent.
He opened his mouth to speak, to scream, to do something, but it was as though he had forgotten how.
Cirella’s measured voice cut quietly through the tension. “What now?”
All eyes turned to the grim-faced Starfire King.
His jaw was clenched so tightly Vaelin thought his teeth might crack under the force.
The warrior king gripped the arms of his throne, a slight steam rising where his flesh met the stone.
Beside him, the Queen sat in silence, her silver eyes blown permanently wide with barely restrained terror as she rubbed lightly at her throat.
He spared a glance for his Queen before speaking solemnly. “We must find a cure, lest this Withering claim us all,” he said, his voice a strained rasp, as though he dragged it over hot coals. “If we can stop the illness, perhaps we can halt this looming calamity.”
Another silence stretched through the room at his acknowledgement — admission — of the validity of Sereth’s Dreamwalker vision. Vaelin squeezed his eyes shut, wincing at the pain in his chest.
Cirella spoke flatly into the silence what everyone was thinking. “How?”
The King turned to Aurelia, “What say the healers?”
Aurelia swallowed. It would kill her, Vaelin thought, to admit she had no idea. That she had tried and failed to rid the fae of this illness. That there was nothing she could do. He watched as Aurelia shook her head helplessly, “I — we don’t know, it doesn’t seem to respond to our magic —”
“NO!” the King roared, his fist meeting the table with a resounding crack. Aurelia swallowed, dropping her eyes. Vaelin curled his hands into fists.
“No,” the King repeated more quietly. “I do not accept that. There must be a way. There must be something we can do. What of the human healers?” he asked, his lip curling as though he had tasted something foul.
Aurelia raised her eyes to him, tilting her head in cautious acquiescence. “It’s possible,” she said, “Humans fall ill regularly. Their healers are much more accustomed to treating disease than ours.”
Vaelin’s eyes roved around the room. Predictably, Thane scoffed, shaking his head, his distaste for humans well-known. Lunaris, too, rolled his eyes as though exhausted by the sheer mention of humans. Naerina and Cirella leaned forward, as if to consider the option.
“Is it affecting the humans? This Withering?” The King asked.
“It’s everywhere,” Vaelin hadn’t meant to speak. His voice was raw, as if he hadn’t used it in weeks. All around the chamber, gazes fell on him, but he held the King’s silver stare.
A beat passed as the King considered him, canting his head ever so slightly. “And how do you come by this knowledge?”
Vaelin felt Aurelia’s eyes on him, but did not pull his gaze from the King’s.
Flashes of his dream from this morning seared his mind.
Each of the fae courts falling to sickness and decay…
and one human healer in Terravern, a scar near her left eyebrow.
He had no right to claim it as prophecy — he was no Dreamwalker — but he knew in his bones that it had been real. That she had been real.
It was a warning the fae needed to heed, or they’d all burn.
He had fought beside the King for decades.
He knew he would respond to logic, to sound tactics.
With no small effort, Vaelin summoned his voice.
“Orion’s fleet fell in the North, beyond Mistfall’s coastline.
Maeylar’s troops in the Northwestern camps outside Cindrath.
Terrin’s children hailed from the South, so it has reached as far as Glenaura.
It stands to reason it has reached Terravern’s border.
And the General…” he trailed off, swallowing as the walls of his throat threatened to close.
Aurelia cut in smoothly, “Given the speed of the contagion we’ve seen in Vaelastris alone, it’s safe to assume it has spread to other realms. Almost certainly Terravern, likely Dunovar as well.”
The King considered, a muscle twitching in his jaw. He glanced again at his Queen, who had begun to muffle yet another bout of coughing. “How many of our field healers were lost in the attack?” This, he directed at Maeylar.
The soldier raised his chin an inch, as if bracing to accept a deserved punishment. “All of them, your grace.” Vaelin winced as the king’s eyes widened and gasps rang around the room. Aurelia swayed as though the news had hit her like a physical blow.
“You will go,” the King barked, turning to Aurelia. “You will travel to Terravern to seek out the human healers and determine whether this disease is affecting them as well. You will learn their methods, their remedies, their cure. You will return to us only when you have obtained it, not before.”
Aurelia said nothing, only nodded, one hand splayed across her midsection as though she fought to seal a wound there.
“You cannot send her alone,” the words spilled out of Vaelin before he could temper them, weigh them. The King’s glare pierced him like a blade, but Vaelin pressed on. “You’ll cover more ground with more than one scout. This is spreading quickly — time is of the essence.”
Fae shifted uncomfortably around the room. Few would question King Senric Starfire, particularly in the wake of the violent and public death of his celebrated High General. But Vaelin was past caring about any repercussions he should face, reeling in his own grief.
The King frowned. “I cannot spare the healers. You heard Maeylar.”
“I’m not suggesting you send healers. Send me.”
Vaelin’s grip on the hilt of his sword tightened, knuckles whitening.
He felt it in his chest, a desperate tug on his soul.
He had to go. Away with Aurelia, to help her, so she wouldn’t face this alone.
Away from Vaelora, where the air still carried the scent of Sereth’s burning hair and flesh.
Away to Terravern, where one human healer may hold the answer that could save them all.
“So you send your favoured to find a cure, while the Fireborne are left to burn?” Thane’s lip curled as he looked to the King.
“We should be so lucky,” Lunaris mumbled.
Thane narrowed his eyes at the shadowwielder.
“Don’t worry, Lunaris. I’m sure you’ll be sent as well — the Starfire’s prized pet.
” He spat, then shook his head, rising to his full height and raising his chin.
“We will not be conveniently left to burn to ash while the rest of you plot and scheme. The Fireborne will send Evric to accompany these fools.”
Vaelin bit back a retort, relief sparking faintly through the haze of his grief. If Thane meant it as punishment, he clearly hadn’t thought through the kindness of sending Evric. He glanced at Aurelia, some of the tension easing from her shoulders, echoing Vaelin’s thoughts.
The King silenced the room once again. He sighed heavily, dragging a hand over his face, expression pinched with some combination of impatience and thinly veiled desperation.
“Very well. Thane, you may send a representative to join this party. I’ve other plans for the shadowwielders,” he looked pointedly at Lunaris, who smiled at Thane coyly.
The King turned his eyes to Naerina, “Will the Waterborne be sending a representative to the human realm as well?”
The fair haired fae shook her head, her eyes distant, as if unseeing. “We’ve lost too many already. I cannot spare Maris,” she said, her voice strained and quiet.
The King nodded, quiet for a beat. Then raised his dark head, jaw set. “Very well. It is decided,” he looked to Vaelin, Aurelia, and Evric in turn, “You will depart as soon as possible. Go swiftly, and bring us answers.”