Chapter 3
Commander
Sorcha rubbed her eyes, clutching the blankets until her knuckles whitened. Cool air brushed her skin, raising goosebumps as sunlight crept across the floor, chasing away the remnants of night.
The room was its usual contradiction of order and chaos.
Shelves bowed beneath the weight of bestiaries, spell books, and old star charts.
Trays of drying herbs crowded the vanity.
Half-folded clothes draped from the dresser like surrendering flags.
She dragged a hand through her hair, wincing as her fingers snagged in the tangles.
“It was nothing,” she whispered, as if saying it aloud might make it so. Swinging her legs over the bed, she stretched, her toes tapping against the cool stone. The dream still clung to her; the gold runes, the forest’s decay, the twisted creatures. She’d seen too much to pretend it meant nothing.
Shaking off the thought, Sorcha crossed the room and grabbed a shirt draped over a chair. She sniffed it, squinting toward the light. “Clean enough.”
She pulled on yesterday’s trousers, tying her hair back as she tore a hunk of bread from a loaf on the counter. Moving quickly, she shoved it between her teeth, bow and quiver slung over her shoulder in one practiced motion.
Casting one last glance at her room, she kicked the door shut behind her.
The morning sunlight caught the gold stitching on her sleeves.
Her boots clacked against the cobblestones as she hurried through town.
She nodded to a few early risers and waved to children hurrying to school, but she didn’t slow down.
Commander Nethran had made his opinion of her lateness very clear already, many times.
By the time she reached the square, the city was fully awake.
Market stalls creaked open, vendors called greetings across the courtyard, and Circle members were already gathering.
They checked their gear, adjusted armor, and spoke in quiet, focused tones.
The rising sun gleamed on metal and rune marked leather, a low hum of enchantment weaving through the air as protective wards settled over each piece.
Commander Nethran stood near a carved stone post. The sun caught strands of his dark-violet hair, which looked almost black until he shifted after he had tied it back. His lilac eyes looked over the movement around him as he rolled his broad shoulders, the muscles rippling as he moved.
Nethran was built for the battlefield. The ink that marked him from wrist to throat pulsed faintly under his skin. He earned each rune, which recorded rank and mastery. More runes meant more power. Nethran had more than most.
His eyes were sweeping across the group once more when his sight landed on her. He pushed away from the post and straightened, his stance shifting from relaxed to what seemed like irritation. “Glad to see you’ve joined us on time, Sorcha.”
Sorcha paused and offered a faint smile, trying to keep her tone even. “Commander,” she nodded, “ready for the day.”
His eyes swept across the other Circle members before returning to her. “Thrilled to hear it.” A few hushed laughs and scoffs escaped the other lips. “There’s a patrol briefing at Skyfall. We move in two minutes.” He pointed his finger at Sorcha. “Except you. A word.”
The others moved toward the falls, murmuring as they passed. Sorcha stayed put, watching as they gave her weary glances. Her expression tightened.
“Yes, Commander?” she said as she stood at attention.
“We’ve talked about this.” His voice was low but firm. “You’re my lead ranger. That means you set the tone and expectations. You don’t trail in late.”
“I know.” Her shoulders sagged slightly. “I’m trying. It’s the dreams; last night’s were worse than usual.”
Just as Nethran’s gaze landed on Sorcha, a flicker of shimmering light zipped past his shoulder.
Sorcha’s eyes widened as the silvery blur buzzed around them, no one else seemed to notice as she watched it dart beyond sight but not before she caught the faint scent of wildflowers and heard the tiniest giggle in her ear as it disappeared.
Nethran didn’t flinch, but his brow twitched. “Something amusing?”
“No, Commander.” She clenched her jaw. Of all moments for something else strange to happen, this wasn’t it.
Nethran studied her for a few moments. “Trying isn’t good enough. You’ll have to do better.” Without another word, he turned toward Skyfall.
As they approached the falls, the roar of the water greeted them as the Circle stepped into the square. Mist caught the light, scattering it across the carved stones and moss lined path. Runes shimmered faintly overhead, forming a barrier of protection that hummed just beneath hearing.
The Circle of Light gathered in a loose semicircle.
Mason, who had been standing off to the side with Eirin, exchanged looks. Riona checked her belt as Drystan shifted uncomfortably. Emry pulled a worn notebook from his satchel, ready to write notes.
A Druid elder, hair braided in silver coils, cleared his throat as he approached.
“Members of the Light, let’s not worry the townspeople or surrounding communities with talk of creatures or odd plants.
I’ve read the reports, and I hear your concern.
Keep up with your finding and send them directly to us.
We will decide what needs attention and what is necessary for our people to know. ”
Rhosyn’s honey-gold eyes met the Elder’s. Her voice was soft but confident. “If there aren’t any issues, I’ll gather samples. We’ll know soon enough if what’s happening.”
She stepped forward slightly; the sun caught the black waves of her hair.
A few strands had slipped free from her braid, brushing against skin that was rich, the warm brown of a polished garnet.
Her freckles stretched across her nose and cheeks like flecks of gold dust. She moved with quiet certainty, unhurried, but purposeful.
Sorcha watched her for a moment, then checked her gear again. The elder took a final bow and, one by one, the Circle turned and moved out, their steps quiet on the stone.
Sorcha lingered. Above, the runic ward flickered faintly, pulsing once before settling back into stillness.
She turned to face the waterfall. Droplets shimmered in the sunlight, veiling the falls like threads of glass.
For a moment, the roar of water seemed to dull everything else when she saw a pair of iridescent sparkling eyes peeking through the falls.
Sorcha moved closer to see what it was when a faint giggle echoed, followed by the delicate splash of water.
A beautiful, luminous face appeared from inside the waterfall.
Somehow it remained within the falls, its body shimmering like millions of scattered diamonds on water.
Curiosity pulled her a step closer; the cold mist brushing her toes as she leaned toward that glimmering face.
The creature tilted its head, watching her with a mischievous smile as it lifted one hand to its lips and blew a kiss.
A burst of water arced toward Sorcha, like a handful of rain tossed through the air.
She flinched, blinking against the spray.
When she looked again, the creature was gone.
Only ripples remained, dissolving into the rush of the falls.
It had to be the Undines. Elemental water spirits, like nymphs, but they blessed their waters with healing powers.
Sorcha had never seen one before; no one had that she knew.
She had a rising sense that the realm was shifting.
She would keep this to herself for now because Lumora still felt safe.
She adjusted the straps of her quiver and headed for the center of town. There was still a patrol ahead and a growing sense she’d need to be more vigilant than ever.