~Reyna~
My pulse quickened as the bartender drug me into the back room. I could feel my heart hammering against my chest, each beat sending an echo through my ears. The familiar rush of adrenaline surged through my veins. The same instinct that had kept me alive for years. My fingers instinctively clenched into fists, my unkempt nails digging into my palms so hard that I could feel beads of blood well up around them. I could break his grip easily. He was a human and I a Shadowbeing. I could easily have snapped a stronger man's wrist.
But I didn't. I couldn't risk it here. Drawing that sort of attention would be fatal. The Drunken Warlock might look like a tavern full of outcasts and misfits, but gold always had a way of loosening even the tightest of people's morals. So I allowed the bartender to drag me past the bar. As we moved, my boots scuffed and caught against the uneven floorboards, almost causing me to trip. The bartender's hand quickly shot out and pressed against my shoulder to right me, his hand rough. The patrons barely gave us a second glance. Drunken ruffians getting thrown out of the tavern was probably such a common occurrence that it didn't make people blink when the owner drug someone away.
As I was shoved into the back room, the bard's mournful wail was all that I could hear now, the lyrics still moaning about lost loves and fallen kingdoms. The bartender slammed the door shut, cutting off the song mid-chorus.
I immediately spun around to face the bartender, my cloak whipping around my ankles. The man was already moving, slamming me up against the wall. I could feel the impact rattle throughout my body as my back scraped against the wood. The barrels and crates next to us shuddered as the bartender yanked my hood down. The flickering light coming from the wall sconces cast an eerie glow over my features, revealing the stark white hair and grey eyes. The same features that were plastered all over the wanted posters that seemed to decorate every surface in the Shadow Realm. The man's eyes flicked down to the mark on the right side of my throat. A blackened scar that was in the shape of my Veilguide, a raven. The symbol that marked me as a Veilwalker.
Recognition flickered in the bartender's eyes followed by a white hot rage. "Shadow Princess," he hissed through his teeth. His voice was low, the tone signalling the danger that he posed. "Ain't no way that you stumbled into my tavern on accident. Not with that bounty on your head and half the Realm's hunters from here to Eastcliff on your ass."
I didn't deny it. There was no point. Instead I squared my shoulders up and met his gaze head on. I held it steady despite the pulse roaring in my ears and the thudding of my heart against my chest. "I am looking for Mira Hawthorne."
The bartender's grip on my cloak tightened. The scent of spilled whiskey and body odor thickened in the air around us as he leaned in closer. "You got five seconds to tell me why," he growled. "Before I gut ya where ya stand."
I didn't flinch at his words. I had faced worse than angry tavern keepers with delusions of grandeur in just the past few months alone. Just a few nights ago I had stared down a Veilhound in the forest, its glowing red eyes and razor sharp canines inches from my face, and had come out with nothing more than a few aching claw marks down my ribs and a nice new bite mark on my shoulder. The wound stung, but I had welcomed the pain, had welcomed something physical that would ground me and remind me that I was still alive and breathing.
"I need her help with something," I said, steeling myself and keeping my voice steady. "My ring." I lifted my hand, allowing the band to glimmer in the low light. The ancient symbols etched into its surface pulsed faintly, their glow weaker than I had ever seen them. Even in the dim lighting the spiderweb cracks stood out, a stark reminder of how fragile my control had become. "Her brother made it. Mira is the only one left who might be able to fix it before…" my voice cut off, my jaw clenching. The unspoken horror crept into my veins. I couldn't bring myself to say it out loud.
I watched as the bartender's jaw worked silently, his teeth grinding together audibly as he took in my words and considered them. The fury that had flickered in his gaze had diminished slightly. In its place held curiosity, and a little bit of his own horror. "You expect me to believe that you are here to get your damn jewelry remade?" He scoffed. "With the whole Realm breathing down your neck?"
"Believe what you want," I sighed as I continued to hold his gaze. I tried to push down the fear that was wedging itself into my gut. Just the idea of talking about what could happen twisted at my insides. "If it shatters you won't need the bounty hunters to find me. This whole damn village will know when my shadows rip apart your precious tavern."
The bartender's jaw ticked, a muscle flexing in his cheek as he processed by words. For a moment the only sound was the heavy breathing in the room between us and the muffled wail of the bard the next room over seeping through the cracks of the door. The tension in the air was thick.
The ring on my finger sparked and dark energy flicked out around me, twisting and writhing into a living darkness. A nearby Lux Stone that had been sitting on a bench in the corner flared up in short, violent bursts. The light rippled across the two of us in waves before the stone shattered with a harsh crack, sending shards flying. The bartender had to raise his arm to shield his face from the blast as we were sprayed with the debris. The tempature in the room seemed to spike almost instantly, the air growing thick and oppressive. I could hear the audible hitch in the bartender's breathing as his gaze snapped to the remains of the stone, his eyes widening.
"Still think I am lying?"
The bartender swallowed hard and tore his gaze away from the stone, his eyes meeting mine again. "Mira's got a cabin here," he said, his voice dropping into a rough whisper. "In the east square of the village. Red door with golden hinges. She calls herself another name here. Ria. Ria Frostborn." His grip tightened again on my cloak before he finally released me, stepping back enough to give me some breathing room. "But if you bring trouble to her door, I won't wait for your shadows to kill ya. I'll put a dagger between your ribs myself."
I yanked the hood back over my head, the fabric swallowing my distinctive features again. "I don't plan on bringing any trouble her way," I said. "I wouldn't even be here unless I absolutely had to be. Trust me, Mr…?"
The bartender's dark blue eyes narrowed. The movement caused the wrinkles on his face to become more prominent. I put him at around the same age as Mira, maybe a few years older. "Fawkes," he muttered. "Nero Fawkes. And ya better mean that, Princess. Because if so much as a whisper of your presence here reaches the wrong ears, I won't be the only one coming for ya."
I exhaled sharply through my nose, the musky scent in the room making my throat burn. "I know what is at stake," I said quietly. My fingers clenched into fists at my side. "I didn't survive this long on being careless."
Nero scoffed as he leaned back against one of the barrels, his thick arms crossing over his broad chest. "Careless?" He repeated. "Ya walked into a tavern full of hunters and traders who would sell their own ma for half that bounty." He jerked his chin towards the door. If I strained to listen just right, I could hear the muffled laughter of the patrons seeping in through the cracks. "Ya just lucky that it was me who dragged ya back here and not some bastard lookin' to make some quick coin. Unlike most these men I don't believe them rumors, and Mira told me what would happen if the King got his hands on ya."
I clenched my hands tighter, the nails digging hard into my palms. I knew that Nero was right. That I was taking a huge risk stepping into Silverdeen and into the Drunken Warlock, especially during Shadowrest. But desperation had sunk its claws deep inside of my chest, twisting and crushing me. "I will leave at Gloamrise," I whispered. "It is drawing too close to Nullrest and I don't want to be caught out during that time."
Nero's gaze flickered to the nearby window where the Lux Stones could be seen flickering erratically through the grimy panes. Towards the end of the village, where it bordered the forests and the nearby mountain range, I thought that I could see the shadows moving. Dark shapes that darted just beyond the edge of perception. No doubt the Nightbeasts were starting to stir and trying to break through the wards that had been cast around Silverdenn. "Smart," he admitted. "But not smart enough. Ya got a way to Mira's without being seen?"
That made me hesitate, my mind racing. The truth was I hadn't thought that far ahead. The ring's deterioration had eclipsed everything else – strategy, caution, even my own survival. Telling Nero this, however, was a horrible idea. It would only stroke his distrust. "I will figure it out."
Nero pushed off the barrel with a grunt, his arms still crossed over his broad chest. "Damn right you will," he said. "An' you won't go near those main roads. Guards will be crawlin' all over Silverdenn." He hesitated before jerking his head towards a shadowed corner of the room where a rusted grate sat on the floor behind a stack of crates. "There's an old tunnel system under the tavern. Used to be used for smugglin'. They'll take ya east near the square, and the exit is behind the apothecary. Mira's cottage is three houses down from it."
I blinked, slightly taken aback by his offer. I hadn't expected any help from the bartender. "Why are you telling me this?"
Nero's expression darkened. "Not for you." He turned away abru[t;y and snatched up a chipped tankard and rag from the table where the shattered Lux Stone now lay. He scrubbed it with more force than necessary. "Mira's got enough scars without adding your corpse to the collection."
The words hit me like a dagger to the heart. It sent a phyical, sharp and piercing pain through my chest that left me feeling breathless and tied my stomach into knots. Without adding your corpse. "I will make sure no one follows me," I promised quietly. "Mira means too much to me to bring any further trouble her way."
Nero didn't look back at me. He was still scrubbing the stains on the tankard like it had offended him personally. "See that you do." He muttered.
The silence that stretched out between us was thick and heavy, filling with the unspoken promises that I was unsure I would be able to keep anymore. As I turned the door handle and cracked it, the bard's song filled the space. He was singing another mournful tune. This one about lost kings and broken crowns. Another flash of memory tore through me, tearing at my heart and leaving me raw and aching. "Thank you," I whispered. "I… I'll go back through the tavern and up to my room until it is time to leave."
Nero didn't respond. He kept his back turned towards me as he continued scrubbing at that damn tankard. I didn't stand around and wait for him to change his mind about not turning me over to the bounty hunters. I slipped out of the storeroom, my movements quiet as I navigated through the crowded tavern. The patrons were too drunk to notice me, their laughter and shouts filling the air as I made my way back to the stairs.
I moved quickly, my heart still racing against my chest from the conversation with Nero. Mira was here. For the first time in weeks I felt something that I thought I would never feel again. Hope. If I could get my ring repaired then I stood a fighting chance against my father and his hounds. Against this damn prophecy that was pressing down onto me. Maybe even against the Veil itself, but I didn't want to get too far ahead of myself. I didn't stop moving until I reached the door to my room, his hand trembling as I fumbled with the key.
I pushed through the heavy wooden door, the creaking hinges echoing softly as I stepped into the small room. The air was stale, tinged with the faint scent of old linin and the lingering trace of smoke from the hearth down below. A hint of mildew clung to the wall. Charming. The kind of place people go when they are looking to not be found. I locked the door behind me and leaned against it for a few heartbeats. I pressed my forehead against the rough, cool wood. The drain dug into my skin, a grounding sensation that reminded me that I was still alive and breathing, no matter what I felt inside.
The room was sparse with a single, narrow bed. There was a wooden chest in the corner and a wobbly nightstand sitting beside the bed. A small, circular window let in a sliver of light from the Lux Stones outside the window. Otherwise, the room was dimly lit by a single candle sitting on the nightstand, its wax already half burnt. The glass on the window was grimy, distorting the view outside. I didn't bother looking out to get a better look. I knew what I would find. Silverdenn bathed in the crushing darkness of the approaching Nullrest. The time when the Realm became a gateway to the deepest layers, allowing the Nightbeasts to slip through and terrorize the Shadow Realm.
I sank down on the bed, the worn mattress sagging beneath me with a faint creak. My body felt weighed down by the exhaustion that always seemed to plague it anymore. I couldn't remember the last time that I had actually slept in a proper bed. I pulled off my gloves and tossed them onto the bed beside me before pushing the hood of my cloak back, the fabric brushing against the fresh scratch on my cheek. I couldn't even remember where I had gotten that particular one. The rough motion caused a couple droplets of blood to bead from the wound, staining the dark blue of the fabric. I barely acknowledged the tinge of pain from it. It was just another mark on a body that had been scarred with years of survival.
My fingers absently brushed at that annoying, single strand of black hair that had fallen down into my face. It was a start contrast to my otherwise pale features, and a constant reminder of who I was. The single streak of darkness was more than just a quirk. It was another sign of the curse that had defined me since I had been born.
Nex had always told me that it had made me unique. That it was a mark of my strength.
But I knew the truth.
It was a symbol of the instability coursing through my veins. A physical manifestation of the chaos.
Veilwalker.
The word echoed in my mind. I had heard the stories from the elders. Stories that spoke of Shadowbeings born with the touch of the Veil. Few had survived to adulthood, their powers tearing them apart long before they could learn to control them. My fingers instinctively went to the ring on my hand.
Nex had once saved me from that fate. Or at least he thought he had in crafting the ring. But maybe he had only just prolonged the inevitable.
I could feel the Veil pulling at me. I knew that if I slept now it would be full of visions. Of a place that held ancient power, where the boundaries between life and death blurred into nothingness. I had seen glimpses of it in my dreams. A sprawling expanse that seemed to war with itself. Where light and dark clashed together. I had seen the tree in the distance, its branches split down the middle. One side gleaming with golden leaves that shimmered like sunlight, the other a pitch black that seemed to absorb all light around it.
The tree pulsed with an ancient magic that both drew me in and terrified me. A reminder of the prophecy that had haunted me since childhood.
"If you harness its power," my father had once said. "Then you will make us the most powerful family across both Realms. No one can stop us then." Alec had only spoken of it in fragments, never giving me the full verses. The archives deep inside the Shadow Palace held the full text inside of an ancient book. I had never been allowed to see it. Instead, my father had groomed me for my fate, as he called it after he had been driven mad with the illusions of grandeur.
Nex had tried to prepare me. He would give me hours long lessons on how to control the storm that raged inside of me. But even he had never spoken the prophecy in full. I had always wondered if he knew it in its entirety and was just sheltering me, or if Alec had never let even him see it.
Now with Nex gone and my ring failing, I was left to face the unknown alone.
The weight of it all pressed down onto me. The fear, the anger, the grief. It all twisted together in my chest. I clenched my hands into fists as I felt the familiar pressure inside of my body, rising in response to my emotions. The shadows in the room seemed to deepen as though they were reacting the turmoil inside of me. I forced myself to breathe. I needed to calm the storm before it spiraled out of control. But even as I did, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was running out of time. Mira is here, I told myself. Come Gloamrise, I will see her. I will get my ring fixed.
I wouldn't allow myself to lose hold of that fragile hope. For the sake of the Realms. For the sake of myself. And in the memory of Lucius. The bard's song echoed in my mind.
The crown lies broken, the light gone cold, and in the dark, the heart grows old.
The words seemed to burrow straight into my chest. Each syllable dug deeper, causing my heart to ache all over. I hadn't heard that song in months. Not since the days that Lucius and me had sat alone in the Solarium together, listening to the court bards perform. He had always loved that one.
My gaze drifted back to the small, circular window. My reflection flickered back in the grainy glass. My grainy eyes had looked hollow and haunted, my features gaunt from months of running and the lack of proper rest and food. If Lucius could see me now, would he even recognize me?
I closed my eyes and suddenly Lucius was there, his face so clear in my mind that it was as if no time had passed at all. I remembered the way that his eyes had crinkled at the corners when he smiled. Remembered the way he had stood beside me, hand brushing against mine as we walked through the gardens in the Light Palace. He had spoken of hope then. Of a future where our two Realms could coexist and where I could have a home by his side. A future where we wouldn't have to hide our relationship.
I had believed him. I had let myself believe that things could be different.
That was before.
Before the night everything had changed.