Chapter Eighty-Three
KAEL
The fire crackles low, throwing long shadows against the slick moss-covered walls in the main cavern of Cindralis.
The Cindrali people gather in small groups to scoop some sort of stew into their bowls from a dented old pot over the hearth.
“El!” a buoyant voice travels through the dark, reaching us on the outskirts of the cavern. Seren. “El!”
“Little Star,” Elyssara says affectionately, pulling Seren in for a warm embrace.
“What’s wrong? Why are your eyes all puffy and red?” Seren squeezes Elyssara’s arms, worry furrowing her brow. She spins her gaze to me, narrowing her eyes, “What did you do?”
No one speaks to me like this, especially not a small, blond girl who barely comes up to my chest. A chuckle escapes me, and I lift my arms in mock surrender, “It’s a long story. I’ll explain once everyone’s here.”
She slaps me lightly across the upper arm and swiftly turns her back, leaning into Elyssara who can’t hide her enchanted smile any longer.
We go with Seren to find the others, who are pulled in close around a small fire, bowls of stew long-since eaten, and two fresh bowls awaiting us.
“Thank you,” Elyssara says politely, her usual fierceness devoid from her tone.
“Let me guess,” Ronyn begins, “you can shapeshift into a wolf, Therion’s actually a god, and Daelen has the power of invisibility—how’d I do?”
Daelen barks a laugh, and Therion shakes his head, though I glimpse a faint smirk on his face.
Elyssara’s mouth twitches up at his comments. “You’re such a fucking moron, Ronie,” she admonishes.
“Well,” Jax prompts, “out with it. Where’d you go and what do you know?”
Fucking Jax. Always so subtle.
“Do you ever think that a slightly more,” Merrik weighs his words, “gentle approach would endear people to you a bit more, Jaxxy?”
“Not really, old man. Go have a nap—we have plans to discuss,” she shoots back, gesturing to the rest of the group.
Rubi takes a swig of something pungent from a mug, hissing through her teeth in the aftermath, “Brask,” she explains, holding up her mug.
Therion shakes his head at her, already looking exasperated.
Typical. “What?” She exclaims. “They tell me a mug every night stops illness—I’m just testing the theory, like the brilliant healer I am, Teddy.
” She takes another sip from the mug, wagging her eyebrows up and down at Therion.
He mutters something imperceptible under his breath, probably a prayer for patience—or maybe just a curse aimed at Rubi’s liver. The two of them have been this way since we were kids. Somehow, it calms me. It reminds me what we fight for.
I look at Elyssara and she’s smiling, talking to her friends with ease, and eating stew, and the sight of it puts me at ease.
“I don’t mean to stop the fun—” I start, but I’m cut off.
“Yes you do, Kael. You always get in the way of our fun,” Rubi teases, pouting like a petulant child.
I roll my eyes playfully at her, before continuing, “We met with a Seer named Nehvara who holds the gift of both ancient knowledge and foresight.”
Seren’s face lights up and her eyes instantly lift to mine, “Did she say anything about me?”
The desperation in her expression fucking kills me.
Elyssara leans in, wrapping her arm around Seren. “No, Little Star. I’m sorry—Nehvara told us... well, she told us what she wanted to tell us and nothing more.”
“Oh,” Seren says. “It’s okay. It’s not important right now, anyway.” Her gaze drops. Therion lifts his hand, as if he’s about to reach for her, but puts it back down. Seren sniffs, fighting whatever emotions she’s barely keeping in check, “What about the Flame-heart?”
Grateful for the topic change, I recall what Nehvara said. “The Flame-heart is the soul of Tarrakai—the most powerful dragon in history—and at some point... soon, we will need to find a vessel for the Flame-heart to awaken,” I pause, searching for the right words, “within.”
“Within?” Daelen asks, incredulous. “As in, a fuckin’ dragon will live inside someone?” He asks, throwing his hands in the air. “With all due respect, my prince—fuck that.”
I fight a laugh that is desperate to escape, because truly, fuck that.
“Nehvara didn’t say what would happen to the vessel, just that we’d know when and how to do it when the time was right,” I offer.
“Well, that’s some cryptic shit if I’ve ever heard it,” Daelen shakes his head in disbelief or rejection. Either way, I can’t blame him.
“Fucking seers—always so dramatic,” Jax rolls her eyes, expression bored.
“And the rest?” Therion asks, ever the pragmatist.
Are you ready? I ask down the tether.
Elyssara looks at me, emerald-green eyes pinning me in place, and she nods.
“Elyssara and I are...,” the words catch in my throat, heavy with meaning that we haven’t figured out yet, “bonded.” I fumble over the words, but Elyssara sits up straighter, pulling her shoulders back.
“We’re Starbound—our bond is written in the Stars. A fated tether of mind, body and heart,” she explains, and the power in her words makes me think that perhaps she actually wants this.
“No Starbound tethers have been recorded for hundreds of years,” Seren says in awe. “I thought they were a myth,” she breathes.
“We’re still figuring it out,” I say, trying to give Elyssara time and space to process everything.
“What does this mean, Your High— I mean, Kael?” Rhyven asks. “How exactly does this work, especially if you are to take back the throne?”
His question hangs in the air. Not because I haven’t thought about Elyssara ruling by my side, but because she’s the Dravari heir—she has her own throne to take back. And because there is so much more at play here than solely what I want.
Despite the tangled emotions in my chest, I keep my answer simple, direct. “I don’t know. The tether has not been... fully chosen yet. Nehvara described it as an invitation,” I explain.
“I see,” Rhyven says, his expression furrowed in thought. “And how do you... accept the invitation?” He posits the question carefully.
“We don’t exactly know that either,” I say truthfully.
Rhyven nods, accepting my answer.
“That actually sounds right,” Ronyn says, and I look at him, confused. “Not knowing anything is kind of our thing.”
“It actually is our thing,” Therion agrees.
“In that case, it’s probably a good time to let you know that there’s one more thing that we didn’t know,” I say, pulling out the parchment from Nehvara with the complete prophecy.
I smooth the parchment out on the stone floor, the firelight catching the ink like it's burning.
I read the last lines aloud.
“But light unbound can blind the land,
A ruin born from an open hand.
The heavens will break, the Stars shall weep,
A blow must strike, or darkness keep.
The Lightborne shall rise, and truth shall ignite,
Unless the Sky destroys her light.
One truth must break, one vow be severed,
Or silence and shadow shall reign forever.”
“We were missing the final two verses,” Therion murmurs, voice low with shock.
The words hang heavy in the air. Like smoke. Like ash.
No one speaks.
Not even Ronyn.
The fire crackles. Somewhere across the cavern, a bowl scrapes against stone. But in our circle, there is only stillness.
And now we know what’s written in the Stars.
And what we may have to break.