“I was never chosen,” I said simply. “Nor did I seek them.”
Gabriel’s gaze stayed fixed on the flames. “Not all power comes by invitation.”
Lysara added, “And not all of us need to follow them to know where we stand.”
Aurelia looked between them. “You too?”
Lysara nodded. “I followed Kaerani for a time. Marked for immortality. But I walked away when the choosing became a cage. She needed me as a weaver more than I needed her as a god.”
“And you, Gabriel?”
There was a long pause.
He didn’t lift his gaze, only turned his cup slowly in his hands. “I was born under Eryndis’s shadow,” he said at last. “Marked, yes. But my oath was always to the Keepers. To the balance. Not the thrones. Shadow Elves are all born of her,” Gabriel added quietly. “Even if we live under other goddesses’ courts, our magic only answers to Eryndis’s line.”
That earned a look from Aurelia, a flicker of something unreadable passing across her face. I wondered if she saw it now—that for all our differences, none of us had truly bowed. Not fully. Not in the way the goddesses demanded.
The fire crackled between us, warm and quiet.
Aurelia leaned back, tugging the tie from her hair. Midnight waves spilled down her back in a tangle still unruly from sleep, catching emberlight at the ends. She tilted her face toward the sky, though there were no stars here.
“It’s strange,” she said softly, “feeling so close… and yet still so far from helping him.”
No one asked who she meant. We all knew.
“Aeryn was always the brave one,” she went on. “The loud one. He used to run through the house with a crown made of nettles and demand everyone bow. My mother called him our little wildfire. That all changed after they were gone.” Her voice caught for a moment, then steadied. “His birthday is coming soon. Eighteen. I promised I’d be back in time. Promised I’d make him soup and we’d?—”
She stopped, eyes darting to the firelight. “I just hope I’m not too late.”
Santiago glanced over, softer than usual. “You won’t be.”
Aurelia nodded absently, then glanced up again. “What day is it?”
Gabriel answered without hesitation. “Second moon’s eve. Fourteenth dusk.”
Her eyes widened faintly. “Oh. Then tomorrow is… my birthday.”
That pulled everyone upright.
“Wait, what?” Santiago said, mouth half-full of dried fruit. “Tomorrow?”
She nodded, brushing hair from her face. “I hadn’t really thought about it. It’s always so close to Aeryn’s… it gets overshadowed. This will be my twenty-fourth year.” Santiago tossed an arm into the air. “Then we’re celebrating. End of discussion. Gods willing, we’ll find that village and they’ll have a tavern.” He paused. “Well, I suppose it should also be full of friendly, non-hostile people.”
Aurelia laughed, quiet but unguarded, her head tipping back as the sound slipped free. Her smile followed, the kind that took over her whole face. It was rare, that kind of smile. Beautiful in a way that wasn’t delicate, but alive.
And gods, it suited her.
40
Aurelia
The tent was quiet,save for the distant whisper of the wind threading through old trees. The fire outside had dwindled to embers, its warmth still reaching faintly beneath the heavy canvas. I lay on my side, facing Lysara.
Even in the low light, she looked like something conjured from a story.
Sleep wouldn’t come. The longer I stared at her, the more the thoughts pressed in. “I keep wondering about all of it,” I breathed. “The turning. This… pull toward Kaelith. What it means. What I’m becoming.”
Her eyes softened, shadows and silver in the dim light. “It’s all right not to know, Aurelia. There can be beauty in the unknown.”