YARIS

When Ruin passed out, I barely caught him before he hit the ground. We had a lively debate about whether or not we should stop and wait for him to wake, but we are so close to Silverfront that we decided against it.

That is how we ended up in a luxurious inn with him unconscious in the bed. The staff asked repeatedly if he needed a healer, but I suspect this is not anything a doctor or healer can help with. His magic is coming off him in wafts and I think those dragons did something to him. I am just unsure of what.

Shatterjaw orders food and I sit on the bed, staying close to Ruin.

I do not like any of this. I am horrified that he passed out and that he had been hiding whatever was going on with him. I can hardly blame him though—he likely did not wish to deal with it, just like I do not wish to deal with things. It is a chronic issue, and I am starting to see how that might frustrate people.

I kiss his forehead. We are all sleeping in the same room that has two queen sized beds. Shatterjaw and Magnum will share and Ruin and I in the other. The red and gold walls complement the white comforters and pillows on the beds. To me, it is rather shabby but surprisingly upscale for a small town. Magnum starts a fire in the fireplace as I kiss Ruin's forehead. My love has been very quiet, and I cannot help but wonder if he will wake. It must show on my face because Shatterjaw steps close.

"I think it's a vision," she says. "I should have recognized the signs."

I sigh and nod, utterly unable to form words .

"He'll be fine," she assures me and hesitantly puts her hand on my shoulder and squeezes. "I'll go get the food."

She leaves quietly and I do not have the energy to tell her that I am not eating anytime soon.

"He'll be okay," Magnum says as he starts the fire with his own magical fire. It catches a moment later, burning the logs brightly. "He's a dragon rider. They're the toughest people around."

I cock my head.

"Tougher than Fae?" I question and he snorts, winking at me.

"Definitely. Imagine having to go to the extreme length of blood magic and sacrificing five of your children to get the enemy to stop."

I nod slowly.

"That is a good point," I say with a sigh. "Though I do wonder what happened with the sixth."

"The sixth?" Magnum's head snaps up. "What do you mean?"

I shrug.

"Six of my siblings went missing in the war. We know what happened to five of them. Not sure what happened to the sixth or which person was which."

Magnum watches the fire a moment longer, a gentle aroma of smoke and pine filling the area. He stands and shrugs.

"Who knows. They could've been killed, or your father needed the last one for part of the spell. I don't know. Blood magic isn't my forte."

I am surprised at that.

"Really?" I say and then regret it because I sound like a fool. He just laughs and shakes his head.

"Demons don't typically dabble in blood magic, Yaris," he says as my cheeks flush. "That's a human occupation. Usually, anyway. Obviously, it's a Fae one too."

"Obviously," I murmur, embarrassed. "Sorry. I just… uh… "

He shakes his head.

"It's fine. You aren't the first."

Somehow, that makes it worse.

"I am sorry. I should know better."

Magnum shrugs.

"People don't really know a lot about demons, Yaris, and we're usually the bad guys in all those popular stories. I don't really expect anyone to understand."

I frown at that.

"But you are half-demon," I weigh my words carefully. "Surely… that means something?"

Magnum snorts and goes over to the window before opening it.

"Just means that no one likes me, Yaris. I'm too demonic for humans and too human for demons."

That is depressing.

"I see," I say, watching him as he leans out and inhales the fresh mountain air. "I do not want to add to your grief. I like you. In a… friendship way."

Magnum laughs and my cheeks heat again.

"Don't worry, Yaris," he says with a wink. "You don't need to explain that to me. It's obvious you have eyes for Ruin… and who wouldn't? He's spectacular."

I want to explain that I am actually polyamorous and then agree with him about Ruin, but Ruin stirs, and I turn to him abruptly.

"Ruin?" I question, touching his face. "Sweetheart?"

Ruin's eyes flutter open. He looks dazed and I stroke his cheek gently.

"Ruin?"

He looks at me and his eyes seem to clear up a bit. He sits up and I reach for water, offering it to him. I try not to fret, frowning and touching him gently. Does he have a fever like last time? Can he keep moving? What happened?

"Yaris," he speaks and sighs, looking amused. "I'm fine. Bring your worry somewhere else. "

Magnum snorts and I blush deeply.

"Yeah, I don't think that suggestion will work with him," Magnum says with a playful ease that does nothing for me. "He's worse than a mother hen."

Ruin finishes his water and grins at that.

"I know. Did he totally freak out and try to be dignified about it?"

Magnum considers and nods.

"Yeah. That's a good way to describe it."

I huff and roll my eyes.

"Sorry that I worry about my…" I grouch. ‘Fuck buddy'? ‘Lover'? ‘Boyfriend'? "Uh… lover."

"Who's fine and very capable," Ruin soothes and takes my hands. "Sparks wanted to have a word."

Magnum stills at that, all his humor gone, and my stomach drops at the thought.

"It must have been important," I say slowly, concern gnawing at me even harder. "I did not know he could… call you like that."

Ruin sighs and opens his mouth to speak, but just then, Shatterjaw enters with food and he becomes distracted as we feast on goose, cranberry sauce, roasted potatoes, and grilled vegetables. Ruin seems ravenous, while I just push food around like a petulant child. Shatterjaw and Magnum are quiet while they eat and have some sort of annoying silent conversation, eyes flicking to Ruin and I and then back to each other. I wish I could say I am thrilled that they are so comfortable with each other, but frankly, I want to set them on fire.

Would that even work for Magnum?

I contemplate this as they eat, still pushing around my food. It smells delicious, but my stomach is roiling and I do not wish to spend all evening in the bathroom, vomiting. So I fall back on fake eating and watch the others. We are all nearly done with our food when I speak up, at the end of my rope with the eyebrow theatrics happening between the half-demon and Galaen .

"All right, you two," I say as evenly as I can. "Spit it out. For fuck's sake."

Ruin nods and stretches.

"I gotta piss. You two get your act together. Yaris is right. That shit is annoying as fuck."

I reach to help him out of bed, but he is already standing and heading towards the bathroom.

"Do you—?"

"I can piss by myself, thanks," Ruin says and closes the door crisply. I grimace.

"Look," Magnum starts as he finishes and puts down his plate. "We don't know a lot about dragon rider magic. I mean, I sort of do, but I've never actually met one."

"It's the same for me," Shatterjaw says with a nod. "And while it's scary and unknown, it's a good thing. So, you need to relax and actually eat."

Magnum nods sagely.

"Yes, exactly."

I grip my nearly full plate and glare.

"It is a good thing?" I snap. "A good thing that made that woman torture me with blood magic? A good thing that has made Ruin almost completely absent for the past few days? It is a terrifying, all-encompassing unknown to me, you know, because it has been used to wipe out countless Fae, and while I certainly do not agree with them, I still am one."

I breathe heavily and try to gather myself. I did not mean for that to spill out. I meant to brood on it, by myself, without input from any of them because what the hells do you say to that? Frustrated, I put down my plate as Magnum stirs, hardly looking ruffled.

"I understand your reservations, Yaris—"

"—they are not reservations," I follow up quickly. "I want this. I do. I just… do not wish for the… big unknown of it all."

I hate uncertainty. It is probably why I stayed away from humans for so long, waiting and waiting until it was my only option, until the world was dying, and I could not avoid them.

Shatterjaw looks guilty.

"Yaris, I know Lady Thanya hurt you, but most dragon riders are not like that," she says quietly. "That's what my people say."

I rub my face.

"They are not that way towards you, Captain," I huff. It is like they do not see the issue at all, as if they are incapable. This thought that I am Fae and those around me are not has stayed with me for centuries and the further along we get to righting the world, the more I realize that I am, ultimately, alone in this. I am a threat to humans and elves and a blood traitor to the Fae. This started with me alone and it will end with me alone.

FUCK.

Shatterjaw does not seem to know what to say and opens and closes her mouth a few times. I suddenly am weary and turn away.

"I am going for a fucking walk by my fucking self and if anyone fucking follows me, they will not like the result."

It is dramatic and I do not really mean it—the worst I will do is make their glamour ugly or, perhaps, perpetually dirty—but it is nice to see them still and draw away as I exit the room and close the door with little flair. I pause and lean against the wall for support. I am over nine centuries old and, like someone significantly younger than I, I wish to disappear into nothing.

Silverfront is a medium-sized town that rests on the Gunther River at the foot of the mountains. It is sunset and the streets are illuminated in shades of bruised purple and deep blue as I walk along them. There are gaslights lining the cobbled streets and everyone seems to be headed inside, save for some merriment I can hear at the riverbank. People pass me as if I am not an avatar of pain, as if my mask is what protects me and them from… everything.

I wonder if I am upset about Thanya. Perhaps. I have been tortured before, typically by "loyal" family members or even guards, so in that sense, it was not too off putting. What was off putting was that I did not know she was even a threat. I had not met her, but I had foolishly believed that Ruin was the only dragon rider around, but if General Killsyn made it to Ruin, would it not make sense that another dragon would make it to another rider?

On top of that, she seemed to really have it out for me. Which I understand. I have been staying among the elves for so long that I suppose I was not really exposed to anti-Fae feelings. But when it comes to the humans, that makes sense. It makes perfect sense. I do not even blame them.

I cannot make sense of what really at my core is ailing me, but is it that… I do not know where I fit? If or when we drive out my people and restore order, do I go with them? Do I stay for Ruin?

Will there ever be a place for me?

I shudder and withdraw into myself as I come upon the river district. Taverns and boats rise before me, and I can smell food being cooked and ale being poured. It is beautiful in a way—humans trying their best to make the most of their very short lifespans. I have always admired that about the native races.

I could talk to Ruin. Could tell him he is my mate, and my place is at his side, always. But to what end? Does he even want me that long? Will he feel trapped and used? I have seen that reaction from people before and it haunts me, even now, centuries later.

I wrap my arms around myself and breathe in the cold air. I should have brought my cloak. I—

—suddenly, nothing matters. All my worries snap away as fast as rolling thunder at night. There, in the very edges of my senses, I can feel something I have not felt in centuries. I go cold as my hands grow hot with magic.

Because nothing matters.

Nothing matters but luring away the very distinct Fae following me. Who are they? What do they want? Are they here to kill someone? Are they here to kill me?

All I can think of is Ruin, Shatterjaw, and Magnum. All I can think is that my petty worries about having a home do not matter one bit, because the real worry, the true worry, is having a home for us all.

I pause at the mouth of an alley and take a deep breath, following the exhale as the spirit of the wind pushes it back behind me. I stretch out my magic and feel everything as it winds down the street and into a cloaked figure that smells like sunlight. One of my father's people then?

I have no weapons at my disposal, save the spirits and my raw magic.

I hope I am good enough with them.

I shift, like I am upset or confused, and start to walk towards the bridge, going slow enough that they can come with me.

I plan on giving them no quarter, murdering them as soon as we are clear, because the fact is, whoever they are, they are not my friend. They are here for me. They smell like sunlight. My family is proudly from the Spring court. Our magic, our guards, our servants all smell like sunlight.

As I start to walk, I wake up the spirits around us, charming them subtly, hoping, praying, begging that they will work with me, just for a few moments. I am so rusty with my Fae magic, so hopelessly, hopelessly out of practice that I know I will not stand for very long against this foe. Surprise is my only hope, my only chance and I do not think I will survive. Not without my sword. Any other foe, I would try using outer magic, but the fact is that outer magic does not really affect my people. Our skin is too tough. Dragon magic, maybe some demonic kinds, and Fae magic are the only thing that have a hope of hurting us.

I try to hide my shaking as I walk, apologizing to Ruin repeatedly. But I must concentrate on drawing them away into darkness and as I cross the bridge and enter the wood, ever aware of my enemy at my back, I try to appear relaxed.

Please, please, I beg the spirits of the plants around me. Please, please, I beg the trees, the stones, the snow, the fucking wind. Please help me.

This is not like the water in the cavern. These woods are well-tended and feel safe.

We don't know you, they echo to one another, condemning me. We don't know you.

I know, I pass an old oak. I seek to save the dragon rider. Please. Please. Help me.

Not our concern, they whisper. Not our business.

They close themselves off to me and I am fucked. Maybe I will just throw myself at the sunlight, hoping, praying, I am strong enough to push back, to kill, to end this.

I stop and take a deep breath when a spirit reaches out, a young sapling.

You elders would condemn us to rot, they laugh, furious. Take me, stranger. Take me and protect us.

My eyes burn with tears as I am humbled before them.

Thank you, I say, feeling the Fae behind me. They have stopped and linger a few yards away, in the shadows, watching me like prey. I take a deep breath and snap forward, reaching for the sapling. They offer me a branch as thick and sharp as a sword and with this, I can do damage.

I whirl around, gripping the branch just as the Fae steps forward, hands raised.

"I'm not—"

I hear that abominable accent and see red. Silently, I rush forward, on them in seconds, stabbing at their chest, their neck, their eye, with fast, nearly untraceable movements. Unfortunately, they are also Fae and manage to block and parry. The scent of sun fills my nostrils, and I am even more convinced they are here to stop us.

"Wait, wait!" They cry out, their voice distinctly Fae and distinctly feminine. "I'm not here to hurt anyone!"

I scoff at that and do not respond as I feel even more spirits wake up around us. The old trees are unmovable. The younger ones offer themselves as a sacrifice. I strip their pine needles, whirling them around like metal barbs as they move faster and faster around us. I am going to cut this Fae down with everything I have.

"Look, calm down!" She insists, blocking me yet again with her daggers. "I don't want to hurt you!"

"Lie!" I growl, sending the needles towards her which just blow away just in time. "I know you work for my father!"

"What?" She snorts and her hood falls back, and I stare.

She has tawny skin like me, with the auburn hair of my father, the crystal yellow eyes of my mother, and the black and silver horns of both of them. But it is not just the coloring—she looks like my mother with a horrible facial scar that twists her beauty.

"Oh, my goddess," I breathe and step back. "Oh… fuck…"

I have never even seen the likeness of my dead siblings before, but some deep part of me know she is my sister. My older sister.

My head spins and I feel I am about to vomit. She just laughs and shakes her head, stepping back as well.

"Look—" she starts and then "oofs" as a brown-haired streak grabs her and dumps a disgusting amount of void magic into her. The newcomer shoves her against a tree and snarls, looking very unlike his usual self.

"Yaris!" Magnum snaps. "Are you hurt?"

"I…" I cancel the needles. "What… why are you here?"

Now I am just confused.

"You think we'd let you fight someone alone? Ruin knew something was up. I came to scout."

"That is…" Astoundingly kind. "… nice. Thank you. But… I do not think she is a threat."

"What?" Magnum squints and then looks her over, releasing her. "… she… kind of looks like you." He cocks his head. "But maybe all Fae look alike and I just haven't met enou gh to know."

"Oh, my goddess," I groan dramatically, all of my angst and anxiety draining out. "Magnum, that is not—"

He's grinning at me and the Fae keeps coughing and cringing but grins at Magnum.

"I heard you were stuck up, Yar," the Fae says. "But I didn't expect that to be accurate."

I rub my face.

"Just who are you?" I finally say after a long pause. "And what do you want?"

"Well," she straightens up and coughs some more while Magnum grimaces at her. "I'm Bandit. Your older sister."

There is another long pause, and I exhale sharply. Which older sister? I do not know a ‘Bandit.' Is it a moniker?

"Father, he—we thought—you are supposed to be dead. I think so, at least," I conclude shakily. "The humans got you, did they not? Or Father, uh… sacrificed you? Or… something?"

I cringe. Maybe she does not wish to think about that.

"Well," she shifts and smirks. "That crinkly old bastard certainly tried."

"We… need to talk to Ruin," Magnum says slowly and looks Bandit over. "He's a little under the weather though."

"Is that the dragon rider?" She asks eagerly.

"And Yaris' beau," Magnum says with a smile. Bandit's jaw drops.

"Yaris!" She whips around to me. "You're with a dragon rider? Good gods, Father would piss himself! He probably is!"

My cheeks are flaming.

"I will put a glamour on you," I say with a sigh. "Then we will get moving."

"You won't be able to cover the scar," Bandit says, eyeing me carefully. "Ash wood."

I nod grimly.

"I know. Father gave me one too."

She nods in understanding and that makes me feel just a little more ill than I already do.

This is shaping up to be more complicated than I would care to ever deal with.