Page 48 of The Starlight Savior

The words settled between them as they arrived at the infirmary. Rows of beds on each side of the room were beginning to fill. Herbal tinctures and the distinct smell of magic wafted through the air as a healer approached Saige, arms outstretched.

“I got him.” The healer gently pried the boy from Saige’s arms. Her chest felt hollow as she watched him be set upon an empty bed. The boy’s eyes were empty of all emotion, and he didn’t react to the thick salve being applied to his face.

“Come on.” Conor took her by the arm. “Let’s get you cleaned up too.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

A heaviness blanketed the castle as Saige and Conor walked back to the eastern wing. The main hall was empty now, but the remnants of the wounded remained. Blood stained the ground. Clothes and personal belongings were scattered throughout, pieces of themselves the wielders couldn’t leave behind. King Vospella’s supper was canceled as servants bustled around, delivering trays of food to the royal wings and the infirmary.

They were silent as they walked to their respective quarters. But as they reached Saige’s door, Conor paused.

“Can I come in?” He lowered his head. “I don’t think I can bear being alone right now.”

Saige nodded meagerly, opening the door to her quarters. Esme had already dropped off a platter of food. Sitting down in the armchair, she reached for a buttery roll and watched as Conor turned towards the washroom.

He said nothing as he shed his onyx armor to reveal a padded tunic sticking to his body. She could hear the sound of water sloshing as he dipped a rag into a bucket, dragging it across his skin. With every moment, the dirt and blood began to wash away.

“I’m sorry,” Saige said.

Conor looked up, brows dipping. Dark circles had formed under his eyes. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” she said truthfully. “That must be…difficult…seeing all of that.”

Dropping the stained rag into the water, Conor strode over to the armchair beside Saige. “I’m used to it.”

“How often does this happen?”

“I’ve been volunteering since I was fifteen. Usually documenting the mist. Evacuating villagers to Athalos or the western border. But tonight…it was different. Tiranos didn’t care about casualties. They just kept pushing through the village, heading straight towards the capital.”

“The capital?” Saige balked. She couldn’t imagine the water-wielding kingdom sieging Athalos’s streets.

“If Queen Anya can take Athalos, she’d have the rest of Etrane at her fingertips.”

“Did you…” Saige searched for the right words. “…defeat them?”

Conor chuckled softly under his breath. “No. Killed enough to where they retreated back to wherever they came from. Our main focus was saving our people.”

She was quiet as she watched Conor reach for a meat tart, closing his eyes as he took a bite. Shadows danced across his cheeks from the firelit sconces. She fought the urge to push back a loose curl from his forehead. Her shoulders relaxed as she leaned back into the chair, his presence settling something in her she didn’t realize existed.

Stepping into Etrane was a whole other world, layered in enchantments and beauty. But tonight had shifted the way she viewed this sanctuary. Beyond the castle walls, things were worsening with every moment. She wasn’t sure how she’d be able to protect herself from not just the mist, but Tiranos too.

Chapter 22

Saige’s days became a mixture of training, reading endless books in her quarters, and suppers in the dining hall. The welcoming nature of companionship, once strange and frightening, was beginning to finally feel normal. She found herself leaning into it, becoming jittery before supper to discuss her training with Niana and her aunt.

Despite Tobin’s patience, Saige continued to be frustrated. There had been no more outbursts, which normally was good. But at least when she ruptured, she was experiencing her magic. Each day, she continued to search her body for the sliver of light, but her magic cowered from her. Tobin continued to remind her to relax and release whatever came up, but it only angered Saige more. Mindfulness was the only way to control one’s emotions, and therefore their magic. Saige despised it.

During supper, Niana provided updates on the movement of the mist and Tiranos’s retreat. But it never gave Saige any reassurance. If anything, her impatience grew, infiltrating her training. Each time she closed her eyes, blood lit up her eyelids. She could hear the wounded wielders’ cries as they stumbled into the castle, realizing everything they had lost.

Saige had been brought here to utilize her magic against the mist. There was a time limit though, especially as Tiranos pressed forward and the mist took more of Opela.

During today’s training, Tobin had a different plan in mind.

“Have you been reading the texts I assigned you?” Tobin asked with a finger to his chin as Saige stepped into the training hall.

“Of course,” she said. When she had failed to recite Opela’s lore, she began to learn more about the seven deities who the mortals, witches, and warlocks worshiped.

“Today you’ll be tested.”