31.

  Faelwen

  A weary sigh escaped my lips as I nestled closer to Ash, my body still trembling in the wake of his touch. His fingers traced the curves of my body with the reverence of an artist sculpting something sacred, sending waves of pleasure up my spine.

  A soft chuckle rumbled in his chest, and he pressed a lingering kiss against my forehead.

  “I can’t get enough of this,” he murmured, his voice low, filled with something deeper than desire. A small hum of agreement vibrated in my throat as my lips brushed against the warm expanse of his chest.

  My fingertips traced the intricate black tattoos inked into his skin, following the elegant swirls and symbols. Beneath my touch, I felt the shift in his breathing, the tension coiling in his muscles.

  Even as exhaustion threatened to drag me under, my thoughts drifted, unbidden, to Spook. I saw the flicker of pain in his eyes again. That quiet, hidden pain he tried so desperately to bury every time he saw me in Ash’s arms.

  A dull pang settled in my chest, a whisper of guilt curling around my ribs like ivy. Spook would never speak of it, never confess to the storm raging within him. But he couldn’t always hide it. And that made it worse.

  What am I supposed to do, Buddy? I don’t want to lose Spook as my friend. I sent the thought to Artemis. The bed shifted as the large wolf leapt onto it, curling up at the foot like a guardian of dreams. He came into the room mere seconds ago, after he’d spent the night in Spook’s room. His voice brushed against my mind, soothing and wise.

  Sometimes all we can do is let them know we’re there. The choice to speak, to heal, is theirs. Not ours. Spook’s battle is with himself, and you cannot fight it for him.

  His words settled in my chest like a warm cup of tea on a cold night.

  Thank you, Buddy. The weight of weariness pressed heavier, and Ash noticed. He pulled the blanket higher over our entwined bodies, his warmth a steady, grounding force. Wrapped in his arms, safe within the night’s embrace, I surrendered to sleep.

  ? ? ?

  The golden afternoon sunlight filtered through the trees, casting playful shadows across the backyard. I ran across the grass, my long brown hair flying behind me, laughter spilling from my lips. Behind me, Mira, my little sister, chased after me with all the determination her tiny legs could muster.

  “You can’t catch me!” I teased, spinning around just as she lunged forward. But in that split second, she managed to wrap her arms around my waist.

  “Got you!” Mira squealed, giggling uncontrollably. I tumbled onto the soft grass, bringing her down with me. We lay there, side by side, staring up at the sky, our breath coming in happy gasps.

  “You’re getting faster,” I said, nudging her shoulder. She grinned up at me, a spark of defiance in her bright eyes.

  “One day, I’m gonna be faster than you.”

  I turned to her with a smile, tucking a stray curl behind her ear.

  “Maybe. But no matter how fast you run, you’ll always be my baby sister.”

  Mira thought about my words for a moment, then reached over and took my hand in hers.

  “That’s okay,” she said. “I don’t wanna run away from you anyway.”

  My heart swelled, and I squeezed her small hand. “We’ll always stick together, won’t we?”

  She nodded seriously.

  “Always.”

  As the sky turned soft shades of pink and purple, we lay side by side, holding hands, wrapped in a quiet kind of love that only sisters share.

  The memory blurred and suddenly I was inside, beside the roaring hearth, watching my father toss Mira into the air, his laughter deep and rich. He caught her, pressed a kiss to her cheek. I watched them as they played.

  My heart swelled and tears blurred my vision. Was this my soul travelling again? Actually for once I didn’t mind. Seeing them like this. The peaceful life we had. I missed them. If I could only…

  He gently put Mira down and turned to me.

  “Come here, little flower.”

  Without hesitation, I ran into his arms, his embrace familiar and safe. It almost felt real, even though I knew it wasn’t.

  “I’m here, Faelwen. I’ll always be here,” he spoke, his voice familiar and yet strange. Something was wrong. A cold feeling started to spread through my body.

  My father’s familiar scent of hay and horses faded, replaced by the acrid smell of burnt wood and sulphur. My father’s warmth twisted into something cold, something wrong. His embrace tightened.

  “Don’t. Move.”

  Dread clawed at my throat. I lifted my gaze and found not my father’s loving green eyes, but two pools of endless black. The Fiend’s lips curled into a mockery of a smile. His dark robes, embroidered with black roses, billowed around him like a living shadow.

  “No,” I breathed, struggling against him. The world around us fell away, a sickening pull wrenching at my soul.

  “Stop fighting, my dear,” the Fiend cooed, his voice soft as silk.. “It is time to return home. Where you belong.” A cold kiss burned against my forehead. Foreign words slithered from his lips, a spell weaving its way into my bones. Pain, sharp and unnatural, shot through my skull and through my heart.

  “I don’t belong to you,” I gasped, desperation clawing at my voice. “Buddy! Ash!”

  The Fiend chuckled.

  “Oh, don’t worry, little elfling. Ash will follow soon enough.”

  A furious snarl split the air. Artemis. Somehow his soul had made it in this strange place between time and space. His growl sent tremors through the void, and then he leapt, fangs bared, straight for the Fiend’s throat.

  The Fiend hissed, catching Artemis mid-air and flinging him aside like a ragdoll with one hand. His other arm still wrapped around me. The impact sent a sickening crack through the darkness.

  “I see we’ve got company. We’ll need to hurry,” the Fiend said casually, increasing the magic he was using to drag me with him. I screamed in pain and instinctively clung to his chest to keep from falling down. His strong arms steadied me, holding me onto my feet. I noticed my body growing colder and my heartbeat slowing down as if my soul were torn from it.

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  “Aeon…” my vision blurred as my strength faltered. Light erupted, golden and violent. A voice, thunderous and unwavering, split through the darkness.

  “You will not take her soul, foul creature!”

  Aeon’s presence was a beacon of salvation, his magic crackling like a living storm. The Fiend dropped me, stepping forward to meet him.

  “She’s already mine,” the Fiend sneered. “Through her father’s blood, she was promised to me.”

  Aeon’s expression darkened, his magic swirling in a kaleidoscope of defiance.

  “Impossible. I own her mother’s soul. Through her I claim the daughter.”

  The Fiend smirked, relishing Aeon’s fury.

  “It’s not her mother who bargained with me. Her father when he was young, sought life anew in his final moments. But he would not sell his soul. Instead, he bargained with something more precious he thought he would never have. His firstborn.”

  Cold terror gripped me. My father. My own father had unknowingly sealed my fate.

  “You lie,” Aeon spat.

  The Fiend’s laughter was razor-sharp.

  “Do I? Then tell me, Aeon, why did her mother run to you for protection from me?”

  Silence.

  Aeon’s hesitation was answer enough. He’d put the puzzle pieces together as had I. Artemis snarled.

  “I will die before I let you take her.”

  “Good riddance,” the Fiend grinned.

  “Run!” Artemis roared before he leaped toward the Fiend again. On shaking legs I turned and sprinted towards Aeon. His magic wrapped around me, vines of light pulling me into his grasp.

  “Open your eyes, Faelwen,” he commanded.

  A sharp gasp tore from my lips as I shot upright in bed, my breath ragged and my heart pounding against my ribs like a caged beast. The world around me spun, my body wracked with tremors, cold sweat clinging to my skin.

  Dim light flickered in the room, and I barely registered the familiar shapes beside me. Ash, Spook, and Elora. Their presence was distant, like echoes in a dream I was struggling to wake from. Their faces contorted with worry.

  I was nearly gone. And Artemis…

  I looked down at him, curled at my feet, his dark fur rising and falling with each steady breath. Relief surged through me, but it was fleeting. Something was wrong. I reached out, hesitantly at first, then with growing desperation.

  Buddy? I called through the bond.

  Silence.

  My breath caught, and a chill far colder than the night air seeped into my bones. I reached down, shaking his soft fur, my fingers trembling.

  “Buddy, wake up!” I whispered, my voice cracking. Then louder: “Wake up, Buddy!”

  Tears blurred my vision before I even realized I was crying. The terror of that moment, of losing him, losing a part of myself, gripped me like a vice.

  Then, just as panic threatened to consume me, Artemis stirred. Slowly, lazily, he yawned, blinking up at me with golden eyes that held the warmth of home.

  I’m here, Wen. His voice, steady and gentle, resonated in my mind. You don’t get rid of me that easily.

  A sob escaped me, half-laugh, half-relief, and I pulled him into my arms, burying my face in his fur.

  “Oh, Buddy… I thought you were gone. Taken by the Fiend.”

  At that, Ash paled, his face draining of colour.

  “The Fiend?” he echoed, his voice barely above a whisper. Spook noticed the fear in his eyes and moved closer, hand tightening around the hilt of his weapon.

  Instinctively, I tried to calm them, but my own hands were still shaking.

  “It was in my head,” I said, forcing the words out. “He’s not here. Right, Buddy?”

  That’s right. Artemis’s voice was like an anchor, grounding me. He sounded tired. He tried to separate your soul from your body, because he cannot physically enter this land to take you away.

  I swallowed hard, then turned to the others.

  “Artemis says… the Fiend tried to take me. To pull me away from my body. But Aeon and Artemis saved me.”

  The words felt unreal, like they belonged to someone else. A shadow crossed Elora’s face, her usual composure wavering.

  “That’s troubling news,” she said at last, her voice laced with concern. “But I’m grateful you’re alright. Thankfully, Aeon and Artemis were there to protect you.”

  “Yes,” I murmured, scratching behind Artemis’ ear. He leaned into my touch, offering a toothy grin.

  “He’s always there for me.”

  Spook let out a low chuckle, sheathing his weapon.

  “Well, that’s one hell of a way to start the day.”

  He clasped Ash’s shoulder, his tone lighter, but his eyes still wary.

  “One thing’s for sure. You’re not standing against the Fiend alone anymore.”

  Ash exhaled, something unspoken passing between them before he clasped Spook’s shoulder in return. A small, grateful smile tugged at his lips.

  “Thank the gods for that.”

  ? ? ?

  The city lay quiet beneath the golden hues of the rising sun, its cobbled streets winding like the branches of ancient trees. Shadows stretched long against the walls, slowly disappearing by the brightness of day. The warmth of the sun chased away the coldness of the night.

  We moved cautiously, our inquiries careful, our words chosen with precision as we sought signs of an underground network threading beneath the surface of this place.

  Spook led us from noticeboard to noticeboard, his sharp eyes scanning for anything out of place. At first, they seemed no different than in any other cities.

  A clutter of parchment fluttering in the morning breeze, inked with mundane requests for hired hands, lost pets, or local events. But then we saw it: a pattern among the postings.

  Here and there, inconspicuous yet deliberate, notes calling for a private mercenary were marked by a small, diamond-shaped sigil with a circle enclosed within.

  A secret sign, according to Spook, for those who knew how to look. Spook insisted we leave our own note, a carefully worded request for a mercenary, with the address of our inn discreetly woven into the message. A thread cast into the web of the unseen, waiting for someone to tug back.

  ? ? ?

  We continued to search for more places that might hold information about the Runestones of Creation. In case we wouldn’t get any response on the note we left.

  Our search led us to the outskirts of the city, where the tower of the magi stood like a silent guardian against the morning sky. It was impossible to miss.

  A great, round spire clawing at the heavens, wreathed in the arcane energy that hummed in the air around it. Acolytes and robed elves moved like specters through its shadow, their robes inscribed with ancient runes that glowed faintly just like Ash’s robes.

  At the tower’s base, a small building housed an extensive library, its arched doorway flanked by lanterns that flickered with enchanted blue flames.

  Elora stepped forward at the entrance, her movements graceful, yet filled with purpose. She lifted her father’s signet ring, presenting it to the acolyte stationed at the doorway.

  The elf’s gaze lingered on the sigil, his expression remained neutral as he studied its markings. After a pause, he nodded, flipping open a heavy, leather-bound ledger to inscribe her name with an ink-dipped quill.

  He spoke in elvish, his voice smooth and fluid as a river’s current. Elora translated for us: an appointment had been made, five days from now. Ash exhaled sharply, frustration tightening his jaw. He leaned forward, his voice low as he murmured something in elvish to the acolyte.

  The reaction was instant, the man’s face paled, his posture stiffened. I caught only fragments of what was said, but it was enough.

  A threat.

  Ash’s patience had frayed. The war loomed heavy in his mind, and he had no tolerance for delay. Elora stepped between them, murmuring apologies as she took Ash’s arm and led him away, her expression both exasperated and weary. As we departed, Ash’s muttering darkened the air between us.

  “Do they not understand?” he growled, his voice tight with barely contained anger. “A war is brewing, and we don’t have time to waste on their bureaucracy.”

  I tried to soothe him.

  “Maybe one of Spook’s notes will get us a quicker answer.”

  He let out a breath, rubbing his temples.

  “I hope so.”

  Spook chuckled, bumping his shoulder lightly against mine.

  “In the meantime, I suppose I should continue your training.” His grin was playful, but I knew better than to trust the mischief in his eyes. I forced a smile, already dreading whatever torment he had planned for me.

  “Sounds fun.”

  By the time we reached the inn, the chill of the mountain air had settled in as evening approached, a stark contrast to the warmth of the fire flickering in the common room.

  Ash retreated upstairs, saying he had a headache, and Elora followed soon after, leaving just Spook and me by the hearth. The firelight painted his face in soft, flickering gold, shadows dancing in the hollows of his sharp features.

  He sat lost in thought, absently nibbling on a piece of cheese, while I wrestled with the gnawing weight in my chest again. Artemis curled at my feet, sensing my unease, his fur warm against my legs. I swallowed, gathering my courage.

  “Spook,” I said quietly. His bright blue eyes flicked up to meet mine, his signature grin already in place.

  “Yes, little fox?”

  The playful light in his expression dimmed as he caught the hesitation in my eyes. The murmur of tavern noises was the only sound between us before I finally found the courage to talk.

  “I… I’ve noticed the way you look at me. At Ash.” My pulse quickened, nerves tangling in my stomach. “The hurt in your eyes. I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I just… I want you to know that if you ever need to talk, I’m here.”

  For a moment, he said nothing. He looked away, seeming to contemplate his next move. He took a deep breath and with slow gentleness, he turned, reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind my ear. His touch was light as a whisper, but it sent a tremor through me all the same.

  “I know, little fox,” he murmured, his voice trembling slightly. “And I know this isn’t easy for you either. But… I see the way you look at him. You love him. Not me.”

  The lump in my throat tightened.

  “That’s not… I mean, I do love Ash. But I love you too, Spook. Just… differently.” My voice trembled, uncertain. His grin flickered, a shadow of itself.

  “Is it?”

  My cheeks warmed, and I turned away, unwilling to let him see the small, traitorous smile tugging at my lips.

  “You know it is,” I mumbled. “You and I… we’re different. We’re friends, and I don’t want to lose that.”

  Spook nodded slowly, then, with quiet certainty, pulled me closer. I didn’t resist. I leaned into him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath, the warmth of his presence.

  “You won’t lose me, little fox,” he promised, his voice low. “Not ever.”