Break the Day (Nightstar Book 1)
Chapter 22

The battle was over. They’d returned to Kyr-Toryl yesterday evening. And yet Fennrin was still reeling a little. It was as though his body was still expecting a new battle to break out, and he found it difficult to stay still and relaxed, especially not when it turned out Ainreth had gotten cut by Yarima’s throwing knives more seriously than he’d let on, so now he was resting in bed, though only because Fennrin had nagged him into it.

He hadn’t wanted to leave Ainreth’s side, feeling like he had to keep an eye on him at all times right now, especially because Yarima had escaped and she’d proven she could get to the palace before.

But Daryan had wanted to talk to Fennrin personally, and it would be very unwise to deny him that. After all, Fennrin was forever indebted to him for taking a chance on him. Who knew if Ainreth’s influence alone would have been enough to secure Fennrin a place here?

He was this time directed to go to Daryan’s study, a place he had not been to before, but whatever he’d been expecting wasn’t what he found when he, after knocking and being told to come in, took in the room. He’d imagined many bookshelves, maps, letters, and correspondence in general, perhaps pages of speeches, and while that did feature as well, his attention was mostly drawn to the many potted plants covering every available surface, half the room bathed in the sunlight coming in from the window, the other in darkness, presumably due to the needs of the various plants.

They hung from bookshelves and Daryan’s desk, a variety of colors, shapes, and species. Was this how every sproutkeeper was? It truly made Fennrin wonder if Petre had their home filled with potted mushrooms. Assuming it was possible to grow mushrooms like that, but if anyone could, a sproutkeeper certainly could.

“Ah, Fennrin,” the Herald said, gesturing to the chair opposite his desk, which was surprisingly organized given the state of the rest of the room. Though a plant with purple blossoms and delicate leaves was sat in one corner of the desk.

Fennrin sat down in the chair, focusing on Daryan, knowing that this had to be important, and that he shouldn’t be gawking at plants.

“I won’t take up too much of your time, not to worry,” Daryan continued, which made Fennrin want to assure him that wasn’t what he had been thinking, but the man continued before he could. “I wanted to congratulate you on your wonderful contributions at the border.”

Fennrin almost snorted then, thankfully able to stop himself just in time. Calling killing others to protect his country contributions was certainly one way to put it. Though he didn’t regret having to kill those soldiers. It had been the only way to drive Orinovo back. In hindsight, he was very relieved that the kapetan had decided to retreat. It could have easily ended with them having to kill every single Orinovan soldier, otherwise.

He wanted to argue that Ainreth had done most of the work, but he stayed silent, simply nodding and taking the compliment. It was probably better than trying to be humble and making things potentially awkward.

“But that isn’t the only reason I called you here,” Daryan admitted, grimacing with regret a little, making Fennrin frown and wonder what this was about. “Given how the Orinovan queen has been behaving, I feel like perhaps it is time to change tactics.”

“Change tactics, sir?” Fennrin frowned harder. “In what way?”

Daryan smiled sadly. “With you fighting for us next to Ainreth, I believe we might not have to keep to only defending ourselves, anymore.”

Fennrin’s eyes widened as he realized what the Herald was saying. “You mean…attacking Orinovo in turn?”

Daryan gave a single nod, his face still regretful. “It is not ideal. But perhaps we should strike while we can. Orinovo seems to be doing something to create az-ari. You yourself reported that kapetan Oretski seemed to possess the powers of a windwalker and a flamewielder. That should not be possible, especially considering that Oretski is not an az-ari to our knowledge.” Daryan shook his head, narrowing his eyes in concern. “However, Orinovo is managing this, they may eventually give someone the powers of a lightweaver, a shadowforger. And that will be the end of Lys-Akkaria.”

A grim, stifling silence filled the room. Fennrin didn’t know what to say to this. Yarima and Oretski were concerning, but he’d assumed that the way he’d gotten the powers was through stealing them from az-ari, just like Yarima. But Daryan seemed to be implying that wasn’t the case—that Orinovo had somehow given them to him.

Though even if he could only steal powers, that was still a problem. After all, Yarima had made it very clear she wanted to take Ain’s power, and she was enough trouble for them to deal with. They didn’t need more.

“But until then, we have the advantage. Between you and the Daybreaker, Orinovo will not stand a chance.” Now Daryan was smiling again, though it still seemed a little sad. And Fennrin was too. He agreed with the Herald, but it was a shame it had to be this way. “Perhaps now we could drive them back instead of cowering in our corner of the map, hoping that they won’t attack. Ten years ago, they took some of our territories. Our people are suffering under Orinovan rule, and now we could help them. Maybe we could even garner peace by replacing the queen with her much more reasonable-seeming son. But while I would hate to push you into things you may not want to do, we have no hope of achieving this without you.”

Daryan didn’t need to ask Fennrin directly for him to hear the question between the lines. And he was nodding almost immediately, having no reason to think about this. Orinovo was a threat, and if they could somehow achieve peace, then Fennrin wanted to do what he could to make sure they did.

“You can count on me, sir.”

When Fennrin got home—a word he was still a little hesitant to use as it assumed he could claim Ain’s house as his—he scowled when he saw Ainreth downstairs, sitting in a chair and writing something into a thick book.

“Why aren’t you in bed?” he asked, unable to not sound a little disappointed. He really was worried about him, and yes, maybe he was being ridiculously overprotective, but he couldn’t help it. Not after seeing him on the ground, with Yarima about to take his power away.

“I’m okay, liri,” Ainreth replied, smiling at him warmly as he shut the book. “See? I’m just sitting. No strenuous movements for me.”

Fennrin sighed, sitting opposite him. “Sorry. I just…worry.”

Ain grinned, putting his hand over Fennrin’s. “I know. It’s very sweet. But really, all good. I promise we will cuddle for a full week now. Sun knows we earned it.”

Fennrin huffed out a laugh, smiling back, though it faded when he saw Ainreth’s face grow concerned.

“Um. Are you…okay? After all of that?”

Fennrin nodded, shrugging. “I think so? I don’t feel any different.”

Ainreth nodded back, not looking very convinced as he frowned, but he said nothing to question him, which Fennrin was glad for. He truly did feel okay. “Okay, good.”

Ain leaned in, kissing Fennrin briefly, short and sweet. When he drew away, he was smiling, taking Fennrin’s hand into his own and squeezing, rubbing it with his thumb. “I’m so glad we are both okay.” He chuckles sadly. “When we got ambushed and separated, I was very worried about you.”

Fennrin shook his head. “You were worried about me? I can become a shadow. You can’t.”

Ainreth grinned in his usual arrogant, charming manner that Fennrin found so endearing. “Oh, were you worried about little ol’ me, then? Aw, Fenn.”

Fennrin huffed, rolling his eyes playfully. “Yes, you ridiculous man.”

Ainreth chuckled, his beautiful eyes sparkling as he kissed Fennrin again, this time longer, deeper, but before Fennrin could kiss back, he heard meowing from the floor next to him. He broke the kiss, grinning down at Snowflake who had her head tilted to the side, looking curiously up at him, letting out a little trill noise.

“Oh, hello,” he greeted her with a grin, scratching her little head, resulting in her instantly starting to purr.

“She’s been a real menace,” Ainreth complained jokingly. “Pouncing at me, wanting to play. I tried to tell her I was ordered to stay in bed, but she didn’t seem to care.”

Fennrin raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you using Snowflake as an excuse for why you got up?”

Ainreth stuck his tongue out at him, making Fennrin snigger at the childishness. It shouldn’t be endearing, but it was. It made his heart flutter with love.

Petting the cat some more, he quickly made the shadow of a mouse, making it run around Snowflake. The cat’s reaction was instant, her head snapping to the side as she noticed the shadow, jumping at it with her front paws, her claws extended.

Smiling, Fennrin made the mouse run away, making a circle around the table and back again, Snowflake chasing after the shadow, trying to catch it.

Ainreth cooed, his face all soft at the display of cuteness, the sight of which almost made Fennrin lose control. Ain was so beautiful. He was always beautiful, but especially when he was showing such unrestrained joy.

Fennrin turned his attention back to the shadow, making the little mouse shadow speed up a little, Snowflake lunging after it, not even realizing Ainreth was doing something until the image of a mouse began to manifest over the shadow, soon growing almost tangible.

Snowflake paused, momentarily confused, but she almost immediately pounced at the mouse again, chasing after it as Fennrin kept the shadow moving, Ainreth following suit as he seemed to try to match up the image to the shadow as much as possible.

As the little mouse ran around the living room, venturing into the kitchen and back, Fennrin watched as the leg movements slowly but surely synchronized with the shadow, almost becoming convincing enough to believe there was an actual mouse in the house.

Fennrin was about to say as much, praise Ain for how good he was at this when suddenly the shadow left the light-woven image behind, making Fennrin pause as he looked at Ainreth, wondering if something was wrong.

But the lightweaver didn’t seem to notice his concern, instead gawking with shock at the floor, where the image still was. And so was Snowflake, sniffing it.

Except it wasn’t an image, anymore. It had its own shadow. It stood there, small and motionless, but when Fennrin grabbed its shadow, making it fly into his hand, he gasped as his fingers closed around a light, solid statue.

This was no trick of the light anymore. It was a real, tangible thing.

Fennrin tore his gaze away from the mouse statue to meet Ainreth’s eyes, both of them gaping at each other.

“What in the moon did we just do?”

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