Page 77 of Ashen Wings

We file through the narrow exit, and the world instantly comes to life. Trees, speckled in flowers of every color, encircle a clearing of nightshade violets. Little dragons meander through thick grasses, disturbing deep purple petals from their stems. A floral breeze caresses my skin, wrapping us in a fragrant warmth, like honeysuckle and fresh cut herbs.

Gods, this place is indescribable. My breath tremors as I take in the four nests, occupied by leviathan obsidian dragons. Hatchlings nip and play with one another, at peace in their little sliver of harmony. The ground hums with the magic of the clearing, just as the sun’s rays do across my cheeks.

“Welcome to our faction’s most sacred of places, starling,” Jace says, and my stomach knots at the bitterness in his tone.

“I…” The words escape me like the flutter of wings.

“Niaxa, this is Nova,” Tenebris says to a gargantuan female curled over her mossy nest. The dragon eyes me like I’m a piece of meat. “Let her see the Astralwing.”

Niaxa rumbles, refusing to move from her nest. Butterflies scatter through the clearing.

“I don’t mean you or your hatchlings any harm, I swear it to Astora.” I raise my empty palms and tuck my chin to my chest. The gesture is our universal sign of honor, ensuring I won’t get eaten…hopefully.

Niaxa huffs again but unfurls her tail to reveal four eggs nestled between roots and moss. The three closest to her are blacker than night, speckled with little onyx flecks that glint in the daylight, making them almost metallic in appearance.

The fourth one, though, lures me into its orbit with a pearlescent white gleam. It’s covered in silky scales refracting the light with a glimmering rainbow of violet, pink, and peach.

So it’s real. The Astralwing egg rests undisturbed right before my eyes. My heart cracks and the world fractures. Everything we’ve faced up to this moment suddenly has substance.

Jace’s shoulders stiffen as I risk a step closer. The opalescent egg’s ancient magic strums through the ground, like roots, tethering us to it with a magnetic pulse.

“It’s beautiful.” I draw my palm toward it. A warning rumbles in Niaxa’s throat. Tenebris offers her a reassuring nod and she settles, but those garnet eyes never leave mine. I return my gaze to the egg. Dull, faded marks twist up its base like webbed fractures. “What is that?”

“Without her rider, she has started to stone,” Tenebris replies.

“What? No, that’s not possible. The rider lives.”

“We don’t know that for sure, and regardless, without the bond, even if the guardian rider’s heart beats, she will stone. A guardian hatchling can only hold out for so long.”

“I don’t understand, the other younglings hatch without bonding a rider just fine. Why is this egg any different?”

“Because she is the guardian. Guardian and rider share a soul, and without her missing half, she withers and will eventually die.” Tenebris kneels beside me. “Niaxa keeps her warm with our own hatchlings, but she is not an Astralwing, nor is this Sovereign’s hatching ground.”

“Fuck.” I place a finger on the egg’s exterior. I’m so close to the continent’s solace, to the guardian, and yet there’s only silence echoing through me.

Maybe I half expected a whisper or ripple of Astora’s grace but just as it was when I attempted to walk the astral plane, there’s nothing.

Niaxa bristles as I kneel and place a second palm against it. Why can’t I hear anything? Seated before an egg made from the cosmos themselves, our goddess has never felt further.

Is the hatchling too far gone? Am I? Those questions beg for an answer I can’t provide.

“You’re close enough,” Tenebris warns. The tears rush from my eyes before I can stop them. The rage I once felt toward Jace, toward Finnick, toward the entire damned world drains away. Here, and now, there’s only sadness. I’m not my mother’s daughter, nor am I part of Sovereign, or Smoke, or Shadow. I’m alone, and even Astora has turned her back. The egg is stoning, and we’re nowhere near closer to finding the rider.

There’s a cold hand on my shoulder, one that’s both cautious and caring. “Starling…”

Jace’s velvety voice enwraps me in a cool shade of night. His white flag waves.

“Don’t.”

“Nova.”

“Don’t touch me.” The words are pure venom as I drop my hands. “I’m fine.”

Jace’s eyes flicker as he withdraws his palm.

“We need to find the rider as soon as possible,” I say, fists curled at my sides. “We need to go to Sea.”

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