Chapter Twenty-Seven
ELYSSARA
We climb the chamber stairs and move back into the main area of the temple, the air feeling clear and settled, the temple returning to the tranquil and sacred state it is meant to be.
The clear blue sky beams into the temple, the storm—the tear— having passed in little more than a few heartbeats, and reminding us that it is likely still before the sun’s peak.
“Well, I have a lot of questions,” Ronyn states, always the one to break the silence.
Therion approaches Ronyn and throws his right hand up.
Ronyn catches it just in time, before Therion pulls him in for an embrace and claps him twice on the back.
“Thank you... brother,” he seems a little awkward, but there is something about this gesture that feels significant.
A connection and bond between our group that goes beyond a mutually beneficial alliance to get what we want.
“Ahh, it was nothing. Really. Any time,” Ronyn states casually, as if he didn’t just save his life.
“It was something. I understand how you’ve all stayed alive for as long as you have. It is... commendable, what you have been able to get through together.” Therion clears his throat, compliments clearly not natural for him at all.
Ronyn shrugs before adding, “We’re family. That’s what we do for each other.”
“I will not forget this,” Therion says, like a prayer and a promise.
I feel as if I’ve just witnessed something special, and for the first time since we started this insane hunt across the realms, I’m beginning to wonder if we might actually pull this off.
“May I see the blade? It has something on it, and I’d love to research it when we’re near a library.” Seren’s excitement and curiosity shift the energy of the room.
“You were... brilliant in there, Seren. You’re very clever,” Therion gives her a curt nod as he finishes the last word.
“Th—Thank you... Therion. That’s very kind of you,” Seren responds, surprised by the compliment.
“See—he’s not always an asshole,” Kael quips.
“Fuck off, Kael,” Therion snaps, cheeks flushing.
I can’t fight the chuckle that’s been building in my throat, and I let it out freely. Laughing throatily and with abandon for the first time in a very long time.
Kael’s eyes settle on me, his smirk turning softer, and I swear he looks at me with fondness, his gaze lingering for far longer than necessary.
I clear my throat and place the blade on the marble altar to our right. Everyone gathers around and stares at it, awed by its beauty.
The blade is forged from a metal that seems otherworldly—dark and iridescent, shifting between shades of silver, deep blue, and obsidian as it catches the light. Faint, swirling runes are etched into its surface, pulsating with a warm, golden radiance, twin to the Lightborne mark on my chest.
The runes appear almost alive, their intricate patterns forming constellations and celestial swirls that shift subtly when the blade is moved, whispering an ancient song only the chosen can hear.
Tiny sparks of light flicker and dance along its edge, giving the impression of Stars being born and fading in an endless cosmic rhythm.
The hilt of the blade is equally captivating, wrapped in dark, supple leather.
The pommel is shaped like a crescent moon, its edges embedded with fragments of glowing crystals that pulse faintly, as if mirroring my heartbeat when I hold it.
The crossguard sweeps outward like wings in mid-flight, delicate yet unyielding, etched with more flowing patterns that mirror the blade’s celestial artistry.
This weapon is not merely forged, it is crafted by the cosmos itself—a harmony of raw power and intricate beauty. It feels alive, a tangible connection to something far greater than myself—and pulsating with the promise of both creation and destruction.
We’re all mesmerized, unable to break the ethereal silence the blade has commanded from us.
Seren hones in on the blade, bending down at different angles to see the runes, her honey-brown eyes noticing everything. She is whispering to herself, brow furrowed in confusion or concentration, I’m not sure.
“What do you see, Little Star?” I prompt.
“I... know what these runes say,” she says, confused.
“Have you read about them?”
“No. I just... feel it... like before.” Seren looks unsettled by this knowledge she holds without understanding how. Her bottom lip begins to tremble, and she looks up at me, fear in her eyes, “What am I? Who am I? Mavyrn told me I didn’t yet know who I was.”
She’s unraveling, losing her grip on reality. On herself. I squeeze her arms gently. “Breathe, Little Star,” I soothe.
“How do I know this? What is wrong with me? What—”
“Mavyrn is a crazy old bat, little one. She’s full of shit. Tell us what you know,” Therion cuts in. For once, I agree with him.
“Exactly. Now, what do you know?” I keep my tone gentle.
Seren’s brow furrows as her hand rests against the blade.
Her lips move silently, as though reciting words only she can hear.
When she speaks, her voice is low, distant.
“These runes—they’re more than words. They’re stories.
Memories. A history that’s... forgotten.
” She hesitates, then adds in a whisper, almost to herself, “But not to me.” She pauses for several heartbeats before continuing, “They’re an. .. introduction of sorts.”
“An introduction? Of who?”
“Of the blade itself,” Seren says with trepidation, but she grabs the hilt with conviction, moving it closer to her, and begins to read the runes.
“I am the Starforged Blade, born of fire and celestial song.
Bound to the one who wields both light and shadow,
I strike for balance, I sing for harmony.
In my edge lies the power to sever veils,
To unite what has been torn, and to awaken what lies dormant.
Only the worthy shall command the Stars.”
“Incredible,” Kael says, and I’m not sure if he’s talking about Seren, the blade or both, but, regardless, I agree.
He reaches out to the blade, moving to pick it up, but as he gets nearer, it begins to wobble and shake, as if agitated or unsettled by him.
He wraps his hand around the hilt, only to recoil instantly, a hiss escaping through his teeth.
His palm is red and raw, as though burned.
“Fuck!” He hisses. “It doesn’t want me to touch it,” he mutters, his voice laced with both awe and confusion.
“It’s hers,” Seren says softly, her voice trembling but certain. Her gaze is fixed on me, wide with both fear and wonder. “The blade chose her.”
“And what about you? Why does it let you touch it?” Kael’s question is soft, no accusation in his tone.
“I have absolutely no idea,” Seren answers honestly. “It’s as if it recognizes me... it feels familiar.”
“Well, that makes absolutely no fucking sense. But let’s be honest, it’s a celestial blade with personality preferences—that’s enough for me to steer clear,” Ronyn chimes in.
The room fills with laughter. I rearrange my daggers, making way for the Starforged Blade to sheathe at my thigh.
Kael slides his eyes up my body from the dagger, slow and unhurried, tracing the lines of my body with deliberate intensity.
I feel exposed under his gaze, his stare taking me aback and prickling my skin.
“Beautiful,” he whispers.
A flood of warmth spreads through me, and I can’t seem to look away from him.
Ronyn clears his throat, loudly, bless him. “On that note, I could use a drink, a bath and big fucking meal, anyone else?”
Thank all the gods for Ronyn’s impeccable timing for once.
“Let’s go to Galreth. I know a place,” Therion states.
The promise of a full belly and a crisp ale is enough to make me move my sore and still-healing body. I nod eagerly, “Gods yes, let’s go.”
Kael’s heated gaze is still lingering on me, a muscle in his jaw ticking, as if he’s holding back the words dying to spill from his lips, and although I know I should not let this—him—distract me, I cannot deny that I like his attention. A lot. And gods, it is fucking distracting.