Chapter 42

Calen

My horse breaks into a trot on the familiar trail leading to Averion. Azran rides by my side.

The city’s white domes shine like jewels under the sunlight, but as much as the view usually brings me comfort, today my heart sinks with it.

I’ve gotten used to returning to Averion victorious and acclaimed, ready to leave war behind. But today another war awaits us, possibly the most crucial one we’ve ever had to wage.

Hooves beat on the ground as the rest of the column follows, eager to enter the city.

I glance behind me, locking eyes with Vesta. Her gaze carries the same doubt my heart does. Does it extend to her decision about us? Probably not. She’s made that clear, and yet, a sliver of hope simmers inside me.

We pass Averion’s gates an hour later, and guilt twists in my gut.

Our convoy moves cautiously through the streets, all senses heightened as doors creak open and stall owners lay out goods in the gentle dawn light. Every hoofbeat echoes sharply in the narrow avenues, and I tighten my grip on the horse’s reins at the uneasy quiet pressing in around us.

As more citizens start their days, their eyes peer from windows and mouths open at Azran’s unmistakable silhouette.

Voices swell like a breaking wave as sleepy curiosity explodes into elation and clamor, disrupting the eerie morning calm. Shutters fly open fully as the residents lean out, yelling joyously to neighbors.

The streets fill rapidly with a growing press of bodies hurrying along our flanks, like fish swarming to a crust of bread. Excited cheers ring out amidst myriad shouts and sobbing prayers of thanks.

“The High Lord and Unifier have come.”

“Azran has returned.”

Stoic as ever, Azran’s gaze remains locked on the palace archway looming ever closer. I can’t bring myself to meet the eyes of the passerby, although for very different reasons.

I dismount when we ride past the garrison and make for the massive stairs leading to the palace doors in Azran’s tow, Vesta and Ela not far behind.

Barus is waiting for us in the entrance. His eyes widen when Azran steps inside before he dips into a deep bow.

“High Lord.”

“Barus,” Az offers. “Arrange a meeting with Averion’s captains. My office. One hour.”

“Of course, my Lord. It’s good to have you back.”

Meeting my gaze, Barus inclines his head before scurrying away.

After Az and Ela exchange a lingering glance, she makes for the stairway without a word.

Vesta clears her throat and Ela pauses, an awkward smile on her face.

“Sorry. I’m going to stop by my room to change and freshen up. Wanna come?”

“You do need a bath, L.” Vesta chuckles as she follows Ela and calls over her shoulder. “We’ll meet you in the office.”

When it’s just the two of us, Az raises his eyebrow at me.

“What?” I ask.

He cocks his head in the direction Ela and Vesta just went.

“No funny retort or comment? I wonder if the Captain of the High Guard has something to do with our General’s sudden shift in personality.”

“Your time in Zetrea has damaged more brain cells than I thought, Az.”

“Hm.” He chuckles. “I’ll go clean up, too. See you in an hour.”

I grunt in agreement and turn towards to the barracks.

“Cal.” Azran stops me, grabbing me by the arm. “You did what you had to do.”

My shoulder sags under the weight of my crushing guilt. I hated every second of my reign of terror, although it was a necessary step.

“I never wanted to take your place, Az.”

“I know. You were always more of a soldier than a politician.”

“Az, I’m so—“

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Az says, cutting me off. “The months you spent handling the realm’s affairs was punishment enough. Don’t beat yourself up.”

He slaps my shoulder gently as I nod, hoping his words will sink into my brain.

An hour later, Azran is standing before his ornate desk, clad in a dark silk shirt embroidered with a red and gold insignia, the rich fabric hugging strong shoulders. His short hair shines as he surveys the assembled captains with calm authority.

Ela stands at his right, changed into practical leathers, her sword never far from reach, and I’m on his left. Eren and Lana occupy one of the leather couches, inclined eagerly forward. Vesta leans back against the bookshelf as Elion and Yhen take posts by the door, their heads bent together whispering and their eyes flickering between Azran and I, a million questions burning their lips.

When the door closes behind Naar, who takes position on a leather couch, Az nods in my direction, letting me kick off the meeting.

“Thank you all for coming,” I begin. After spending days racking my brain for the best way to navigate this conversation, I cut to the chase. “After Adria, we launched a covert operation in Zetrea to identify Braern’s allies. Everything I did in the recent months was to maintain our cover across seas.”

The announcement rings out, sending shockwaves through the room. Surprise registers on every face, leaving our captains wide eyed, their jaws dropped and foreheads furrowed. Hushed whispers swirl as they discreetly exchange sideways glances.

“Today we return victorious, in great part thanks to Calen’s sacrifices,” Azran adds, leaving out details about his or Ela’s capture, as agreed.

A heavy silence falls for one suspended moment before excited speculation breaks out in a rush of interrogation.

“Why the secrecy?” Yhen’s voice tones above the chaos, and voices quiet down.

“Our enemy has ears and eyes everywhere, including in this very city,” I answer.

A barrage of questions explodes from every corner of the room as voices overlap into a din. Queries about the identity of our foe are the only ones I can decipher.

“Airdan.”

The room descends into deafening silence as Azran utters the bastard’s name.

“The King of Zetrea aided Braern and is set on destroying all who oppose his ideology. He seeks to crush all humans under his rule and take over Lóna.” Straightening his back, he continues. “Airdan is no doubt preparing his offensive as we speak, if his vanguard hasn’t left already, and we will meet him head on.”

“Damn,” Elion lets out, voicing I’m sure what everyone else is thinking.

“What of Averion’s citizens and the army? The troops’ morale is hanging by a thread,” Naar says.

“Our people will be informed, and Calen and I will address the army together.”

Everyone nods their approval until Azran steps forward.

“Calen acted from necessity, but shadows serve us no longer. If your trust in me yet stands, I will lead the fight against this snake in our home.”

Tension fills the air as Azran’s crimson gaze falls on each person in the room. No accusations etch his sharp features, only resolve.

In answer, one by one the captains lower their heads, fists crossing hearts in salute. Hard-won respect shines in every eye, conveying their allegiance.

“Very well.” Az’s voice rings solemnly in the air and he steps back to lean against his desk.

“Eren,” I call out, and the purple-haired captain straightens his back. “Keryth’s fleet will play a crucial role in this battle. If his forces can’t hold off Airdan’s army, Daenia will turn into a deathtrap. We will need your expertise.”

“Of course, General,” the Water Fae says as he stands to face the room. “A massive network of canals and bridges circles Daenia’s islands. Under Lord Keryth’s rule, the city transformed into a thriving center of trade and culture, from the bustling eastern docks to the merchant and arts quarters.”

I nod regularly as Eren talks about his home, and the other captains memorize every word that leaves his mouth.

“Daenia boasts marble fountains tall as three Fae amidst bustling markets, sculptures dotting winding boulevards, and towers brushing clouds. The city crawls with civilians, and its decadence makes for a treacherous battleground.”

Eren steps closer to Az and I, pointing to the desk behind us.

“May I?”

Az accepts with a quick nod.

Reaching for a quill and parchment, Eren hastily scribbles a rough sketch before lifting the piece of paper for all to see.

“Several major arteries lead to the center of Daenia and its plaza, Endya. Almost a city within Daenia itself, Endya is surrounded by a high wall, a large canal, and four main entrances. Wide platforms of various heights rest on the outskirts of the plaza, with stairs leading to each level. A cluster of tall constructions within a labyrinth of streets rests in its center.” Eren pauses to catch his breath. “If the city is overrun, Endya is the last place we want to find ourselves.”

The atmosphere shifts palpably and tension fills the space as the Water Fae steps back. I dismiss him with a nod.

“Prepare your units,” I command. Everyone lifts their heads a little higher, ready to obey. “Barus, you know what to do. As soon as we’re ready, we march to defend our western shores.”

Lana stands, and her eagerness sets everyone in motion.

The room empties in seconds, new determination shining in the captains’ eyes.

“Welcome back, General,” Naar says as he exits behind me.

Most captains descend the stairway, but I keep walking down the corridor, another target in mind.

Vesta’s hand grips my shoulder.

“Cal, wait up.” Her emerald eyes scan my face as we wait for the others to clear the floor. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m fine,” I lie.

Acid churns in my stomach at the memory of this masquerade of a coup I had to organize. Rumors about my true allegiance will never fully die, and I’ll forever be known as the Usurper of Averion.

“You don’t look fine. You haven’t said a word since we set foot in Lóna.”

“I said I’m fine.” Bile surges in my throat as the harsh words leave my mouth, and she crosses her arms over her chest, her brows furrowing.

“I need you in Daenia. Keryth has to be warned.” I look away, unable to hold her stare. “Take the rest of the day if you need, but leave by sunrise.”

“So, this is how it’s going to be? You’re sending me away?” she snarls back, her emerald eyes like daggers in my chest.

“I’m asking you to help me because I trust you.”

“And what are you going to do?”

“Can I count on you?” I counter, not bothering to answer her question.

“Of course,” she says with a huff.

All traces of her cheerful self are long gone, erased by my hand. A price everyone who gets close to me pays. Others have paid more dearly, and never made it back home.

I cock my head towards the stairway and she steps back, a small line creasing her forehead. Her mouth opens slightly as she stands there, frozen in place, and for a moment, the General retreats, leaving room to the Fae carrying far too great a burden on his shoulders.

She has no idea how much I hate pushing her away and pretending that it’s not getting to me. Someone had to make the hard decisions in Azran’s absence. My sole purpose was to prevent further deaths, even if I can never erase the blood already on my hands.

Truth is, if I could send anyone else, I would. If I could stay by her side to salvage what we had, I would, but she’s the only one I trust with the fate of Lóna.

Her features soften and her lips thin before she retreats to the stairs.

I wish I could tell her. I wish she could see inside my head. I wish for many things to be different.

“Be safe,” I blurt out. That’s the best I can offer, right now.

She freezes on the landing as the words ring in the air.

“Always. And Cal?”

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry I doubted you when we left for Zetrea.”

It’s past midnight when I step into the courtyard after helping Azran draft missives all day. Messengers have been dispatched across the Fae territories and Brimora, but all we can do is hope we won’t be too late to stop Airdan.

A threat is on our doorstep, and Queen Aanor is as much in Airdan’s aim as we are. It’s only a matter of time before his focus turns to her, and without us, her kingdom will fall. Airdan will erase Brimora off the map the second he gets the chance, and our defeat will mean just that.

Our relations with Brimora, flimsy as they may be, could determine the victor of this war.

The cold night air greets me, gently brushing my face and relegating these worries to the back of my head.

My steps slow when I near the garrison. Vesta is probably there, packing a bag of fresh clothes and getting ready to leave. I almost come to a halt as the idea of paying her a visit crosses my mind.

Her apology still rings in my ears, leaving me wondering if we could pick up where we left off.

I could go to her, tell her how hard this is for me, how much I hate it, and that the only thing I dream about is her.

I turn my head and make for the gates. Another Fae at her beck and call, waiting to tie her down, is the last thing she needs, I’m sure. And although that’s not what I want for us, I don’t know the words to convince her of that.

I shake my head and push on, keeping my pace steady.

Moments later, I step onto a paved street in the heart of Averion. A wooden sign hangs above a door, a tree painted on it.

The door slams open as two patrons step into the night. Soft light streams from the doorway, just enough to reveal the wide smiles on their faces as they hold each other to stay upright. The pair mumbles unintelligible words before their laughter fills the air.

A gust of warmth hits me when I step inside, along with a sea of indistinct voices. Fae and humans are drinking and dancing together to the music of a band playing in the corner. Drinks are being passed around, splashing as patrons try to avoid bumping each other.

My shoulders relax instantly at the merriness of the Tree of Life.

I make my way to the counter by the stairs where a burly man waits.

“General.” He greets me with a nod. “It is an honor to host you. Same room as last time?”

“That would be great, Kyrt.”

A smile appears on his bearded face at the use of his name.

I deposit a few silver coins on the counter and turn as the inn keeper looks for the key. Resting my elbows on the counter, my gaze goes from customer to customer, soaking up the cheer of this place. Most are completely inebriated already, spilling drinks on their best attire. A colorful lot. It’s a miracle we don’t have to handle more brawls and disturbances in Averion.

An odd sensation prickles on the back of my neck and I lock eyes with a dark-haired Fae sitting in the back. A suggestive grin tugs their red-painted lips before their eyes dart back to the Fae sitting across from them. Tanned, with their hair braided to their scalp, the Fae openly undresses me with their green eyes. My admirers intertwine their hands together, but neither breaks eye contact, letting me consider their proposition.

I turn when Kyrt clears his throat behind me.

“Your room is ready, General.”

“Thank you, Kyrt.”

Accepting the key, I take the side door leading to the rooms. I don’t spare another glance behind me, but a thought lingers in my head—a promise to myself. If I make it back from the battle that awaits us, I will go out and let go of my worries occasionally. It won’t wash away the sins, but I sure as hell deserve a night off if I’m not dead by the end of the month.

Once inside the room, I check the windows, making sure they’re closed before pulling the dark velvet curtains over them. A small fire burns in the hearth, its warmth and soft light giving the space a cozy touch. The plush rug and canopied bed add to the room’s welcoming air.

I remove my red and gold vest before my gaze drops to my embroidered shirt and pleated pants. I strip to my undershorts quickly, letting the clothes pool on the floor beside my boots. These won’t be needed tonight.

I catch my reflection in a mirror leaned against the wall, and a smile tugs my lips.

If Azran were here, he’d tell me that nobody likes a self-absorbed prick and to put some pants on.

I reach into the chest at the foot of the bed with a chuckle and put on the dark linen ensemble I find.

After strapping my boots back on, I cover my shoulders with the dirt-strained cape lying at the bottom of the chest.

Moments later, I sneak out the back door of the Tree of Life.

Pulling the hood over my face, I step onto the paved streets of Averion. The cape does a surprisingly good job at protecting me from the wind as I slip past the few Fae wandering the city.

A door opens onto the street, its light catching me by surprise, and I turn my head the other way at the last second.

Careful not to step too heavily on the paving stones, I check behind me after turning a corner. This time, I keep my head down when I walk past windows and passageways lit by torches.

My heart pounds in my chest as I sneak into a dark alleyway. Its only door is easily missed if you don’t know what you’re looking for. Most passerby walk past it without ever realizing it’s there.

I check my surroundings before knocking on it using a specific sequence.

An eternity later, the door opens, revealing nothing but pitch black inside.

“You’re late.”