Chapter 24
A Watcher’s Duty
Kyron outwardly complied with orders at the Tuatha Court, but his obedience was merely a facade.
He performed the required training with the warriors, attended council briefings, and endured the interminable discussions about the spreading sickness.
His body was present, yet his mind was elsewhere.
He attempted to convince himself that he was fulfilling his duty, that remaining at the Court was the correct course of action, and that observing from a distance was sufficient.
However, these thoughts grew increasingly empty with each repetition.
Initially, he remained near the borders of Eadartha, rationalizing his presence as mere observation and monitoring of the mortal realm.
But his surveillance intensified, and he began to slip past the gates of Lumora, concealed within the city’s shadows, watching its inhabitants.
He was watching her. Each night, Kyron resolved not to return, but each night he did.
One evening, he saw Sorcha arrive with Eirin and the others.
From the rooftops, he observed them dismount, their horses weary from the journey.
Something about Sorcha had changed; her steps were tense, and her shoulders were tight.
Something had clearly affected her, and he needed to understand what.
He trailed them through the city’s winding, narrow streets, navigating from rooftop to rooftop until they reached the Druid School.
Remaining hidden in the shadows, he watched them disappear inside.
He then heard their voices emanating from an open window, listening as they recounted the encounter with the kelpie. His fists clenched as his mind raced.
Kyron was haunted by chilling possibilities. What if she had been alone? What if something else had found her?
He remembered the shift in the air, the unsettling restlessness of the land. The weight of his inaction pressed against him, a constant reminder of his failure.
That night, Kyron fled to Lumora, telling himself the departure was temporary, that he would return to the Court once the unrest had subsided. However, each step away from the Tuatha made the lie heavier. The further he walked, the clearer the truth became.
Farmers reported finding livestock dead in their pens, stiff and blackened. Merchants spoke in hushed whispers of the sudden spoiling of their goods, with crates of grain turning sour and fruit rotting overnight.
He once found a lifeless hare at the treeline, its eyes clouded and leaking black.
The same dread he’d felt after crossing paths with Alenia washed over him.
A sickness was moving beneath the surface of the world, and he wanted nothing more than to shield Sorcha from what was coming next.
He knew this was just beginning even if the council refused to admit it out loud.
He had endured countless council debates that ended without a decision. Words were not enough to hold back what was coming. The Circle wasn’t ready, Lumora wasn’t safe, and Sorcha was the most vulnerable of all.
When the city gates finally rose into view again, the air hummed with anticipation.
The Festival of Light was approaching, and preparations filled the streets.
Silks adorned windows, spices perfumed the square, and lanterns shone in careful hands.
While most saw cause for celebration, Kyron felt the city’s festive atmosphere was a flimsy shield against a gathering storm.
He tried to convince himself that he was only fulfilling his duty, that he stayed for Lumora.
Yet, the moment he stepped through the gates, his eyes searched for her.