Page 73 of The Starlight Savior

“And lastly,” Priest Stefan shouted, “may Sydera guide our path to fresh beginnings, a new world forged in the Mother Goddesses’s very own vision! May she carry our blessings to the divine, guided through the stars, moon, and sun.” He raised his hands, but nothing happened.

Until Saige looked to the stars.

They were brighter than before, almost blinding. Her head craned back as even the moon glimmered. People began to release their lanterns, letting them float into the air. Their palms still glowed with magic in honor of their deities. The world around her shimmered with light, sizzling with power, as everyone’s prayers and blessings traveled around them.

“Too fascinated to let go?” Conor laughed, his hand tugging on her arm.

“The stars,” Saige breathed. Her fingers still gripped the thin paper of the lantern.

Conor looked up and then back to Saige. “What about them?”

“You don’t see?” Saige turned to Conor, watching the quizzical look in his eyes shift to confusion.

“They look like stars.”

She looked back up but was disappointed to find the sky almost dull.

“Your hands are glowing though.”

The palms of her hand showed a soft light pooling in them. “I suppose I can light my lantern now.” Her fingers were shaky, afraid of the light burning out. “How do I do it?”

“It’s all in your mind. Picture the magic leaving your hand, each tendril of light being extracted from your palm and placed into the lantern.”

Saige closed her eyes and imagined just that. When she opened them, her lantern was floating faster and stronger than the very magic Conor had placed in it. A golden light mixed with the purple lightning. Their shoulders brushed as they looked up. Transfixed, the lantern rose, the rarity of their lights mixing together until it faded into the distance, joining the stars.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Once the lanterns disappeared from view, the crowd dispersed back to the square. The music and food continued through the night. The three of them danced through the square, arms and hands brushing. Conor provided more mugs of ale, this time unfrozen from Niana’s touch. Saige was surprised when she didn’t jump back as a warlock with graying hair and a toothy grin gripped her arms. Allowing her hand to fit in his, she danced to the music. As if this was what she was meant to do. Was it the ale flowing through her body? Or was it the magic that sprung in the air alongside them?

Her cheeks burned as she imagined herself grabbing ahold of Conor and dancing with him too. How many times had she imagined doing so with Hadeon? Yet no matter how many times their gazes met, smiles widening, something stopped her.

The signal to end the eve arrived with the rising sun. The walk through Athalos and up the grueling hill was peaceful. No one had spoken in hours, carried away by the lyre and drums that thrummed in their bodies. Her cloak rested in her arms, dress soaked with sweat and hair sticking to her neck.

What a lovely evening.

In Denholm, she would’ve never been the kind of mortal to dance and drink until the sun greeted her. There was almost guilt lingering in her. Shouldn’t she be studying or training? But she banished it. Gods, imagine if Judith could see her? Althea? What would they think if they saw her out right now?

Her chest ached at the thought of them. Althea would have loved Athalos and the lanterns lighting up the sky. She was one of the few people she knew who worshipped someone other than Terrus and Silva. As a healer, her prayers secretly were cast to Ignesa.

Niana was dragging her feet by the time they made it to the eastern wing. Wrapping an arm around Saige, she squeezed tightly. “I hope you had the best full moon,” she murmured, placing a kiss on Saige’s cheek.

Conor and Saige stood at their respective doors, their backs leaning against the wood as Niana stumbled off to her own quarters. Dark circles formed under Conor’s bright eyes, his hair a mess of loose curls from dancing. Saige was surprised he was such a good dancer, moving along and taking witches and warlocks in his arms to the beat.

“So witchling,” he said, his eyes narrowing to lazy slits, “how was your first party?”

“That was not my first party,” Saige murmured.

“First party you’ve actually had fun at.”

Saige rolled her eyes, but she had to agree. “Thank you for inviting me.”

Conor’s smile was small as he nodded. Neither of them moved from their doors. Was she supposed to hug him? Reach a hand out and grasp his forearm? It was as if she forgot how to act around someone.

Conor stepped forward, his long arm outstretched across the space of the hallway. Saige’s body acted instinctively, her limbs loose as she allowed Conor’s hand to snake around her back and rest on her waist. She graciously fell into his embrace, her cheek resting against his shoulder.

“Thank you for giving it a chance. Despite everything. You’ve never deserved all this pain brought forth by things you didn’t ask for.”

Her cheek sank into his shoulder, body loosening in his hold. The faint brush of Conor’s lips against her cheek barely reached her through the haze, sleep already dragging her down into the comfort of his arms.