Page 27 of The Ashborn

“—stronger soldiers because of him.”

“—speed and strength far outmatched. Like he’s something else entirely.”

Tristian followed their movements, crossing his arms as the tree he stood under rustled in agreement.

“I heard he made a deal with the Still Court for his position,” another recruit mumbled, slowing to catch his breath with another Elvish soldier. “Not as formidable as they say if he can’t even find the god of light for them.”

“Unless it’s him,” said the other.

The High Commander stepped into the sun. “Keep running.”

The recruits startled, sprinting away, the rest of the soldiers on the island silencing as well. Tristian grunted, pulling his sword from his scabbard, then stood there, waiting for the recruits to make their way around again.

“High Commander.” Talon’s boots thudded near Tristian. Zephyr picked at his feathers, his black eyes blinking toward Tristian as his claw twitched on Talon’s shoulders.

Tristian loosened his grip on his blade. “Your recruits aren’t being pushed hard enough if they can still whisper.”

“Noted. I’ll adjust.” Talon slipped his hands behind his back and straightened. “Zephyr is worried about the wards. The barrier of River Storm has been flickering often as of late. No indications of armies in the realm yet, but King Vaerin is up to something.”

“And the other wards?” Tristian asked. “Near Silverthorne? Or Trinity?”

Talon tilted his head; his face etched with confusion. Zephyr soared into the sky overhead. Talon followed him, locked in apparent conversation, before he returned to Tristian. “The wards remain in place.”

Tristian nodded and went through his mental calculations to decipher what else he should prepare for. Connak held his secrets close to him. Tristian worried his Blades Commander held them in to keep the panic at bay, and the only reason for that was due to the wards. They protected more than Trinity alone. They pressed against River Storm’s borders, locking Vaerin behind defenses of his own making, and held darker forces at the edge of Alistile.

They would endure only as long as Tristian did, which meant he needed to remain in Trinity for as long as possible. Years of pressure pressed against him, forming a low ache beneath his ribs as if the light itself leaned on his spine. The scar on his collarbone grew from an ache to a burn. He simply shook his head. “I have Connak focused on the wards. In the meantime, I need you to run a few missions for me.”

Talon’s lip twitched as he stood in formal command. His sharp, regal features mirrored the falcon on his shoulders. “What sort of missions?”

He was a good man. Tristian was sure he could trust his Shardborn Commander, but he had to tread lightly. “Routine missions,” he said. “Bridge patrols. Battalion visits. Supply checks.”

Talon frowned.

Tristian’s voice lowered. “Pay attention while you’re out there. I want to know which soldiers would follow their commander…and which hold loyalty to their queen.”

Talon squinted his steel-gray eyes, tilting his chin upward. The last hint of true light glared against his long hair. His shoulders slumped. “That’s not routine.”

“I know.” Tristian faced the setting sun with Talon, watching as the recruits continued their final lap of training. “She binds us in silence because of the Accords, but we can still have an impact on this realm. People shouldn’t suffer when we can help them. We can ride to battle in aid of allies because the Accords deem it so. What we do afterwards is out of my supposed reach by decree of the damned document.”

He remained formal, but Talon’s brows knitted together, and his muscles flexed and twitched as if he were fighting the urge to walk away. Tristian’s gut still said Talon could be trusted, so he blocked his path.

“Commander, I know what I ask defies your view on the hierarchy of rule and very well might defy the queen in the process…and others.” Tristian studied him. Talon kept his gaze on the clouds. “We owe it to the people that are dying in a war we started.”

“Connak started,” Talon said.

Tristian let out a low laugh. “I assure you, this war was only paused until Connak retrieved Kienna.”

Talon grunted at that. Tristian could understand. Talon was, indeed, many generations older than him and Connak. In his perspective, they lived in peace for twenty-five years, disposed of the Dark Priestess, then two young men joined and climbed their ranks, took hold of the Accords, and found themselves in war again.

The Accords were a sensitive topic for most Elvish as well. Some thought they took power and simply shifted it to the army. Others believed them necessary. Talon was on the first side of the story for a time. With Tristian’s command, he’d since been convinced otherwise.

Time dwindled as the recruits neared the last corner of their session.

“I’ll be blunt, Commander. Do you believe the Belok family should continue their rule?”

Talon broke formation, his forehead creasing with the tension above his wild eyes. “Surely you aren’t talking of an uprising here, High Commander. With all due respect, sir⁠—”

“Answer the question.”