Page 18 of Season Warriors & Wolves

“You think that is what he fears? Losing sense of reality or being lured to something they desperately desire until their heart was broken to the point of death? Is this what Snow was looking for?”

“No. Just as Snow said, Vas did not love Aurora. If he did love her, that veil would have been nightmares. It would have fed on what he felt for her and hurt him through it. Fader knew what he was doing. He was showing them both each other’s dreams. None which overlapped the others. That is torture. Reminding them they fought and broke rules for nothing. Reminding them they deceived each other for nothing.”

“Macaria would know about this. We always assumed that they had been bound with godly magic, but it would make sense.” She sighed. “I doubt we can use this against Aurora though, not without access to the sceptre.”

My fists curled tightly. “I was not thinking of using it on Aurora.”

Chapter six

Black Pawn to A6

Snowlin

The trip to Seraphim through the rough waters of the Seer had probably shifted my organs all over and tangled them with each other considering how sick even walking made me. Not to mention that the place stank of fish and salt, and that the next thing I could possibly wretch out was my lungs.

Demir manoeuvred us around the massive camp my father had raised in Heyes. He’d been in some sour mood lately, and for some reason, he kept holding a palm against his chest almost as if it hurt.

The heat was not as bad as it once had been years ago when I’d visited. Though it was still muggy, it wasn’t as stifling. Seraphim skies were a dark grey, not from storms or thunder, but from the lingering soot that would never clear in their air from the burn of the fire kingdom five hundred years ago. Aurora had been the one to burn it. She’d been the one to turn what once had been the richest kingdom in the realm into a hot rock and bluster.

Not one Seraphim folk around in Seraphim land. It was strange to say the least and not strange at all when you thought about it better. Why conquer when you can quietly spread like fungus and overtake it all. That was his strategy. But it seemed strange that no winter and snow had set on the land though he’d almost claimed it his and Isjord’s. It would mean Aurora’s damage was more severe than I thought.

Hammer scales flew all around me as swordsmiths beat the hot iron into weapon casts. They flung the barely finished blades into piles of weapons behind them, not even caring to check for quality or even wait for them to cool off. Perhaps they didn’t need to. Father would not care if a sword would be used well and fair in the hands of a soldier. If it could pierce flesh, it was good enough. There were too many hands to equip with weapons, little time and not enough forgers. If father was looking to arm his soldiers in Heyes, it meant he planned to send them either south to Vrammethen, or west to The Sayuri and then Hanai. Considering they had changed to thinner sails that eased tacking manoeuvres, they were planning to sail against the wind—Hanai.

Faint whispers brushed my ears while we made our way into the heart of the camp. The sound of hammers flailed also. They all raised their eyes and bowed their heads as if I was some form of a saviour.

There was so much hope in their eyes that I wanted to crush. Up until I saw the soldiers following us along.

Children.

Barely teens.

I saw my brother.

I saw myself.

Then the countless graves filled with soft bones and barely all adult teeth.

There was no sense of nobility or responsibility, doubtful something I could feel towards these people, but rage against my father did assault my senses for a strong minute. How far he was willing to go and how much worse he intended to do.

Kilian would hate this. To have to fight them. To not be able to spare them. To have to plan against them and not nurture and plead them away from this.

“I didn’t tell you to stop,” Demir hissed in my ear, discreetly tugging on my chains for me to follow.

There were several bodies inside the main tent which had been turned into a war room. Some I’d seen before and others that I wouldn't have thought I’d see on my father’s side. Adriatians, Solaryans and Eldmoorians stood along Isjordian captains.

They all avoided my stare when I reached their side while Demir exchanged news with those he had left in charge here.

“You’ve made your families really proud, I hope,” I said, settling on a chair.

“Says the one who has betrayed our king too many times to count,” an Adriatian muttered, sneering at me.

I peeled my left glove off and raised my hand up. “I never betrayed anyone. Just because you cannot see the shackles, does not make me a traitor. And just because you hated me enough to betray your kind, does not make you righteous.” I put my glove on and turned my face slightly towards them. “When this is over, I will find your mothers, fathers, wives and husbands, daughters and sons, and I will slaughter them as feed for my bonded. It will not satiate my own stomach, but I am sure as hells it will please my soul.”

Demir’s face turned from bored to surprised to concerned and to angry in a matter of seconds. He shot me a short look before completely turning his back to me, trying to disguise his hushed words though I was no master in lip reading.

“Heard that a single ship hasn’t made it past Mahara’s channel,” someone murmured in Darsan to another.

“They say a witch is blocking them,” another said.