CHAPTER 44
THE FALLEN
Grief is a magic of which we still know very little.
– Caldris Study on Dark Magic: A Theory
The peace didn’t last. Sebastian had known it wouldn’t.
Forty-seven seconds. He’d counted. That’s all they got before Drakens began to drag themselves from the wreckage, deathly-white limbs clawing onto the sand as if the sea itself had spat them out.
Black magic burst from their veins, shadows curling around them like bindings.
Too many of them. Sebastian spurred his valmare back, shouting over the thunder of the tide. “Regroup! Regroup now!”
Then the voices started.
At first, it was a low hiss in his mind, but it grew so loud it drowned out the sounds of the battlefield. Faces of men he’d killed rose from the shadows, their mouths twisting with words he already knew. Accusing him. Damning him.
You killed me, Commander.
Traitor. We followed you.
Monster. Abomination. Murderer.
He jerked his head to clear it but the images kept coming: Kara on the pyre, Kara dead in his arms, Kara broken from grief.
His grip faltered as the bond jolted like a lash.
Kara’s fear licked at him, eating at his own resolve.
He turned towards her just in time to see one of his soldiers fall to his knees, clutching his head – and a Draken blade split him open.
“Kara – move!” Sebastian roared.
But she didn’t. He could see it in her face – the terror had her pinned.
Their bond shook with panic. Ice-white flickered across his fingertips as he reached for the only magic that might help.
He gritted his teeth and forced it to answer – only for it to slip through him uselessly.
He wasn’t particularly good at mind magic.
No. Not like this.
He had never been afraid of death. But if he died – the bond would rip Kara apart.
And that terrified him. The screaming grew louder, the battlefield warping before him.
He had no sense of who stood around him – friend or foe – but the shadows drove him to strike at anything that moved.
Sebastian brought his blade towards the man closest to him. The soldier’s eyes went wide–
Then – clarity.
A blinding white light had replaced the shadow’s grip.
Breaking the Draken’s hold. Sebastian gasped, dragging in air as if he’d been drowning.
The man in front of him was clad in crimson.
One of his own. Mercifully uninjured. Just shaken.
Around them, soldiers who’d been on their knees staggered upright, staring around with relief, gripping their swords tighter.
Sebastian shook away the images. The voices quietened.
Caldris magic.
Not his. Someone else’s. Two silver valmares shot past him. Oryen was atop one, looking terrified but determined, and on the other was a blonde-haired rider who reined in hard in front of them.
“I’ve got you,” Henry shouted, hand still glowing white. “I’ve got you both. Back to the line – come on!”
It had to be fucking Henry, didn’t it?
But he saw Kara come back to herself, felt their bond steady.
He had to be grateful. Around them, more Caldris riders drove their magic outward, streaks of white colliding with the ebony in the air.
The field became a battlefield not just of steel, but of will – light against shadow, clarity against madness.
“Thanks,” Sebastian grunted reluctantly, and urged his valmare back alongside Kara and Henry.
Henry stared at him, expression hard. “Keep fighting. I’ll keep your minds clear.”
Sebastian nodded once, sword raised, and struck down all who got in his path with renewed focus and fury. Kara safe at his side. He had to keep her safe. Without warning, a wrongness filled him, pulling his attention northwards. He didn’t think, just acted.
“Sam, take twenty men, reinforce the northern ridge,” he bellowed.
“But Commander, it’s holding–”
“DO IT! We hold that ground or we’re done!”
Riders broke from formation instantly, charging towards the flank. Seconds later, a wave of Drakens hit that exact position.
I knew that was going to happen. What the fuck.
He watched the ridge, heart pounding. It held. Sam’s men held it. But if they hadn’t reinforced–
He didn’t have time to think about the flash of Sight he was sure he’d gotten.
He had to keep fighting. The sun was high in the sky now, but past its peak, its heat beating down on the field.
His father held further down the line, crimson blazing as he carved a path through the tide of enemies.
His blade moved almost of its own accord, spinning to take the next before the first had fallen.
The speed, the precision – they were brutal, efficient, relentless.
Tobias Thorne was still as deadly as the stories had always claimed.
But then a Draken slipped through, his blade arcing low.
Tobias turned too late. The strike cut through his side, and he staggered, blood spraying across the field.
He fell to his knees on the sand, still fighting, but gasping now, dark red pouring through his fingers.
No!
“Father!”
Sebastian threw himself down from the saddle and was at Tobias’s side in an instant. He ended the Draken with a single vicious swing.
“Go,” Tobias rasped. “Leave me–”
“Not a chance,” Sebastian snapped, pressing his hands to the wound. “Hold still.”
“Stubborn boy,” Tobias muttered weakly.
“Learned from the best,” Sebastian said wryly as emerald flared from his palms, healing magic flooding the wound.
Steel clashed all around him – their soldiers had formed a wall, buying him the seconds he needed.
Behind them, Hale healers were already there, dragging wounded behind the barricades with grim efficiency.
Their shouts mingled with the screams, as they marked those they could save over those already gone.
His father’s bleeding slowed under his hands, the muscle knit, the skin sealed.
Tobias’s eyes flew open, locking on him with unmistakable pride.
“My son, the Healer,” Tobias smirked.
“Get up, old man. We’re not finished yet,” Sebastian growled.
He hauled his father up and for the second time in recent weeks, Tobias pulled him into a sudden, fierce embrace. Just for a second – whilst the battle raged around them.
“Thank you,” Tobias said gruffly.
The man won’t stop hugging me.
And Sebastian didn’t hate it.
“Stay standing, okay?” Sebastian muttered, already reaching for his sword, and then he was back in the fight.
He hadn’t had time to remount before two Drakens came charging towards him.
Sebastian swung his blade viciously, and they fell where they stood.
He barely drew breath, wiping blood from his face before searching for Kara – and froze.
Her valmare was empty, blood streaking across its flank as it fled across the beach.
Too much blood. Panic shot through him. He wrenched his head left, then right, scanning the chaos.
Crimson flared, Sorrel arrows hissed, boulders flew – but no Kara.
Smoke from burning barricades billowed across the line, turning the air heavy with ash.
His throat stung. Eyes watered. He could hardly see.
The bond pulsed inside him, but not enough, not clear enough to show him where she was.
His heart hammered so violently he couldn’t hear the sounds of battle.
His vision narrowed as he ran, searching, tunnelling on empty saddles, bloodied sand, anything that might be her.
If she needed him and he wasn’t there, if he lost her–
“Kara! KARA!”
Nothing.
He shouted her name over the thunder of clashing steel as he shoved his way down the line. Henry on valmareback caught his eye.
“Henry! Where is she?”
Henry’s ice-white hand jerked to the right, gesturing along the line. “There!”
Sebastian followed the direction and his blood ran cold.
Kara was on foot, alive, not too far away, but several Drakens were between them.
Her sword was flashing as she fought side by side with Sienna.
Some Lyrans had descended from the ridges to keep the shadow magic at bay – countering the fear tearing through his men’s minds – their courage magic more urgently needed on the ground.
Violet magic flared again and again, joining the sea of Caldris ice-white in the battle against the darkness.
Sienna’s violet poured from her hands, but she was using it to drag fear through the Draken ranks, slowing their advance.
Kara was filling the gaps with shields, and roots, golden and crimson flaring wildly as she tore down anyone that slipped through.
She was holding her own, and the bond thrummed with her focus, her determination, but also exhaustion.
Her shield was struggling... one wrong blade could shatter it.
Sebastian ran.
He didn’t slow for any that got in his path.
The first got a blade through the stomach.
The second he suffocated with roots. When a third and fourth charged at him, amber light burst from his hand and a boulder from the nearest barricade crushed them where they stood.
But their lines were being pushed back by the sheer number of them.
The mind magic attack had cost them ground they couldn’t afford to lose – some of his men were already behind the barricades.
Drakens poured across the sand, several now climbing the timber walls, unstoppable, heedless of the stones and axes that smashed them down, trampling their own dead to break the Vallennan line.
The Durent men were starting to be forced backwards, but they fought like demons, making the Drakens pay for every step.
Sebastian’s chest burned, his sword felt heavier, but he forced himself forward.
He called for his emerald magic, and it flared on command.
His muscles healed as he moved, and the tightness in his lungs eased. He had to get to her.
Thank the Gods for healing magic.