Chapter 23
Aurora
Aurora ran for her life. The beast chasing her was so large it blocked out the sun above, its wingbeats as loud as thunder.
In the distance a forest loomed, ancient and gnarled and thick.
Something inside her knew that within that dark wood she might be safe from the beast above, but she would find herself at the mercy of the creatures that lurked there.
Indeed, within the tangle of branches, a woman’s face, both beautiful and infinitely wicked, stared out at her.
Hunger had the creature licking her full lips, her claw-tipped fingers beckoning her.
And yet the forest was Aurora’s only hope of escape.
Racing barefoot across a verdant field should not have been so torturous, and yet sharp rocks littered the path.
But if she dared slow for even a moment, she would be devoured by the monster of the skies.
She was close, so close. The woman reached out her hand, her skin like beechwood bark, nails like a bear’s claws, her green eyes lit as though fires burned within them.
This was no saviour, merely another monster, and yet it felt like a kinder cruelty than what she ran from.
Aurora reached out her hand to the woman, only just noticing her shark-toothed grin.
Her stomach flipped as talons closed around her torso.
Aurora’s scream was drowned out by the beating of wings as she was dragged up and up and up.
The great forest grew smaller and smaller as the beast flew her into the sky until it was nothing more than a dark smudge.
And yet the beast climbed higher still, the bite of the air changing from merely cold to painful.
If it dropped her now, she would die of old age before she hit the ground.
Every frantic heartbeat took her farther from her home, her hope draining like blood from a lethal wound.
Caught between the fear of falling and the terror of the fate that awaited her, Aurora chose to fight.
She wriggled and writhed in the beast’s grip, but she was a tiny thing in its grasp, unable to free herself.
The harder she fought, the tighter it held on.
There was no escape. When the beast landed, it would devour her.
Aurora screamed in fear and frustration, fighting a battle she knew in her heart she would lose.
Aurora woke, her heart racing. She was no longer trapped in her nightmare, but she could feel icy air on her skin, the rawness in her throat from screaming, and the monster’s talons squeezing her torso.
Illusory wind screamed by her ears, drowning out the sound of her heartbeat.
And yet she was in bed next to Theron as he slept peacefully.
Another hallucination. Fear struck her anew.
Unlike the others, this one held her in its grip for much longer.
She couldn’t afford for Theron to find out, to potentially wake and see her distress.
Aurora slipped from the bed, finding papyrus and ink, and wrote her note neatly despite her shaking hands.
She grabbed a himation and wrapped it around her, desperate to shake the lingering feel of talons gripping her.
Tears threatened because the whistling wind in her ears had yet to quiet.
She couldn’t let him see, couldn’t let anyone know that madness had come for her after all. Not yet. Not until Drakon was dead.
Gathering her courage, she stepped from Theron’s rooms. Before the guards could speak, she raised a hand.
“I’m going to the gardens.”
Not a request. A statement made without allowing her voice to quaver.
Aurora walked on, navigating the halls to the gardens, keeping her footsteps even and schooling her features as best she could while it felt like ice burned her cheeks.
At least the ancient Aureans with their giant’s blood had such poor night vision that they wouldn’t be able to see the gathering tears in her eyes.
It was only once she’d made it to the gardens that she realized it was raining. No matter, she needed to be somewhere to come apart without eyes on her. Aurora stepped onto the slick paving stones, determined to find a tree to hide under until the hallucination ended.
The moment her bare feet touched the ground, the wretched sensations ceased.
The sound of rain filled her ears, the chill faded from her cheeks, and the feel of talons disappeared as if the bands of iron had turned to smoke.
A hysterical laugh bubbled up, one Aurora refused to let free.
Instead, she walked down the garden path, unable to take in the details, until she reached a great weeping willow.
A white stone bench sat beneath its bent branches, untouched by the rain.
Stepping under its protection, Aurora collapsed in the mud, her knees suddenly weak.
Her breath left her on a ragged exhalation.
“Fuck,” she said, her throat tight.
Hot tears fell down her cheeks. She’d thought she had more time.
Years at least. She’d expected that her visions would have been what broke her mind, but perhaps the mere act of glimpsing the future was what damaged the mind beyond repair, no matter the content of her visions.
Aurora dug her fingers into the earth as she bit her lip to stop it from trembling.
It wasn’t fair. She’d only been using her wild magic for a scant few months, and now it would rob her of her mind.
Soon, she might not even be able to distinguish between hallucination and reality.
Perhaps it had been a blessing in disguise that she’d been unable to wield this wild magic for so long.
Its absence had allowed her to pursue her dreams, to make friends, to be happy. Now it would steal everything from her.
If she’d known what it would do to her, she would have fought against it with every fibre of her being.
But it was too late for that now. Aurora stood, wiping the tears from her eyes and the mud from her hands.
If her mind was deteriorating this quickly, then there was only one thing she could do—defeat Drakon.
She would never see Fae again. She could never become Theron’s queen.
Her days as a scholar were over. But she could do this one thing to save Trisia now and in the future.
Aurora walked toward the bench sheltered by the willow tree and sat down on the cold stone, doing her best to regain her composure.
There was no use crying over a hopeless situation, not when she had a mission.
Fate had chosen her for this wretched task.
Along with Hyllus, she would slay Drakon.
And if the magic she used to do so left her lost within a realm of nightmare and hallucination?
Then she simply had to hope that someone would put her out of her misery.
Aurora released another shaky breath.
It’s okay. I don’t have to think about that yet.
It was the mantra she repeated over and over until the sun rose behind the rain clouds and she was beginning to shiver from the cool damp.
“Your Highness?”
“Y-yes?”
An attendant dashed under the willow tree and blinked in shock at her. She must look a sight for them to lose their composure.
“A message has arrived for you.”
Aurora took the sealed scroll and unrolled it.
I followed Drakon to the capital, but the trail has gone cold. Let’s meet at the temple of Justice.
Hyllus.
The noose around her neck tightened even as Hyllus’ return was something to be grateful for. She needed more time. What if she was lost before they confronted Drakon?
“Would you like to send a reply?”
“No need. I need to get ready to go to the temple of Justice.”
“Should I inform His Majesty?”
“No,” she said. There were things it would be easier to discuss without Theron present.
Aurora got up off the stone bench and shivered.
“Allow me, Your Highness,” the attendant said, wrapping her in their himation. “May I escort you to your rooms?”
“You may.”
Once there she was fussed over as if she were a child, bathed in hot water and dried with warm towels, and then dressed and ornamented in midnight blue and gold as befitted a queen of Aureum.
It left her with a pang in her heart. She’d not even sorted out her own feelings about becoming a queen when the possibility was taken from her.
“Does the dress displease you?”
Far from it. It was only in knowing what she would never have that she realised she’d wanted it—and wanted it fiercely. Aurora blinked, catching herself frowning back at herself in the mirror. She waved off their concern.
“My mind was elsewhere.” Soon it would be very far away indeed. Aurora swallowed back a nervous laugh.
The attendant appeared relieved to hear it.
“The palanquin is ready, Your Highness.”
Though the day had fully dawned, the rain kept many from the streets, and so they arrived in the temple district without delay.
Aurora noticed there were more soldiers accompanying her than usual but said nothing of it.
Theron was probably being extra cautious.
After all, just yesterday he’d allowed himself to be publicly humbled.
Even she knew a display like that might make his enemies feel emboldened.
As much as the possibility made her nervous, what he’d done for her warmed her heart such that she couldn’t fight back a smile. Theron truly did love her.
As the temple of Justice loomed, she couldn’t help a dreadful thought. He loves me, and yet I don’t trust him with this terrible secret. She shook her head. It’s okay. I don’t have to think about that yet. Only Drakon mattered right now.
Aurora ascended the steps to the temple of Justice to find Hyllus waiting within. He grinned wide, picking her up in his arms and twirling her around. She couldn’t help laughing.
“Look at you! I heard what happened. His Majesty must be head over heels for you after all!”
“Avatar, please put down Her Highness!” her attendants scolded.
“Oh, right,” Hyllus chuckled, setting her down on her feet.