The Fire King is available now!

SPOILER ALERT

Do not read this if you have not yet read STORMLESS.

Chapter 1:

Consequences

Waves washed against the sand. Sunbirds—complete with their resplendent, crystalline feathers—chirped and cawed overhead. Divebrisks splashed in the distant water. It was… dark. Yet there was light somewhere. Wisps hissed by, swarming the currents with their strange energies.

Castien Varic twisted, or he tried to. He was squished between two jagged rocks. He groaned, trying to open his heavy eyes. Dark stone greeted his vision. Castien squirmed, aiming to wiggle out of whatever crevice he had fallen into.

Pain shot through his left arm. He cried out, reaching for his arm. He looked down, able to make out the burned skin in the dim light. Wait…

Images of Ilyana, running through Summerglass, materialized in his head. Thoughts of the Prince… the King… a Shadow-Swift? Castien rubbed his eyes with his right hand, noticing his splitting headache for the first time.

“It’s about time you woke up,” a familiar voice said from somewhere close by.

Castien turned to look behind himself. The gap in the rocks widened there. He let out another grunt of pain as his left arm scraped against the rocks.

“Let me help you,” Ilyana said. A hand appeared in the gap.

Castien took it, using his right arm to pull himself out of the small crevice. He slid out of the rocks, his face landing in the damp sand of the shore. He laid there for a few moments, trying to discern reality from dreams. It couldn’t be real… This can’t be real.

“Unless you’re content with lying face down in the sand for the rest of your days, I’d suggest getting up,” Ilyana said.

Castien’s eyes snapped open, heat suddenly trickling into his damp and cold body. He shoved his right arm into the sand, pushing himself to his knees. Waves crashed in the background. Wisps danced by, weaving in and out of Castien and Ilyana’s figures.

“Wait…” Castien muttered, rising to his feet. He carefully held his left arm out to the side, making certain that it didn’t brush against anything. With a glance down, he looked at his arm, getting a better view of the warped and ruined flesh.

“We’re going to have to wrap that,” Ilyana said, stepping forward.

Castien stepped back. His thoughts were still a mess. If only this damned headache would go away! “You killed the King,” he said, narrowing his eyes. The previous night was somewhat foggy, but he was certain of that fact.

Ilyana paused, her gaze falling. “I did.” She lowered her head.

“You were the spy?” Castien breathed, taking a step forward. He reached down to his side, fumbling at the shortsword at his waist.

Ilyana backed up, drawing her dual butterfly-blades in an instant. “Don’t try this with me, Castien. I could’ve left you up there.”

Castien managed to draw the blade. He raised it shakily, gripping the blade tightly in his hand, the soggy leather feeling damp and slick. “You lied to me,” he croaked. “I trusted you, and you lied to me.”

Ilyana lowered her gaze once again but kept her weapons ready. “I also saved your life, mind you. You’d think that would be worth something.” Ilyana grunted.

“I only needed saving because you made me an accessory to the murder of the King of our country! You betrayed us!”

“Don’t try to play the victim!” Ilyana snarled. “Arvendi assassins killed King Brennan Nightingale of Celes four days ago. Your people shattered the peace between our nations, not mine!”

“Wha—” Castien blinked. “What are you talking about?” Castien locked eyes with Ilyana, though neither lowered their blades. Castien winced, his arm burning with a sudden shock of pain.

“Arvendon betrayed Celes,” Ilyana said. “If I didn’t make my move last night, Titansworn would’ve gotten away with it too.”

“You’ve been a spy this entire time.” Castien blinked.

Ilyana’s eyes flickered.

“I don’t understand,” Castien said. “Why were you even on that expedition in the first place? Why… Why were you even in Arvendon at all?” Castien paused, his arm flaring. “Was this your inten—”

Pain shot through his left arm. Castien cried out, dropping the sword in the sand and falling to his knees. Trying to support the sword had even been too much for it.

Ilyana knelt down, but didn’t sheath her blades. “If you don’t let me help you, you’re going to get an infection, and you’re going to die, Castien,” Ilyana said.

Castien hesitated.

“What do I even care anymore?” Ilyana said, rising to her feet. “Sit here and rot, this is a waste of time.” She strode past him, leaving him in the sand.

Castien started, still recovering from the spike of pain. He wasn’t a waste of time. He was just… Everything had blown up in his face, and he didn’t know what to do.

“Wait,” he called out, turning over his shoulder while clutching his arm. “Please.”

She paused.

“You’re right,” Castien said. “I need your help.” Castien swallowed, trying to compose himself. “Please help me with the burn. I… I don’t know what to do.”

Ilyana sighed, turning around. “Promise you won’t try to kill me?”

Castien looked down at the sword in the sand. A wave ventured up the shore, washing over the blade with a gentle brush. He nodded, suppressing his anger. If he didn’t let her help him, he wouldn’t survive much longer.

“Let me see,” Ilyana said, kneeling beside him.

Hesitantly, Castien raised his arm to show her. Another wave dashed across the shore, lapping at the backs of his shoes.

Ilyana examined the burn. She delicately turned his arm, surveying the underside.

Wisps dashed by, hissing and whistling through the air with their strange white energy.

She gently probed the warped flesh, sending a flash of pain through Castien’s arm.

He winced, pulling his arm back. Castien eyed Ilyana, then hesitantly reached back out.

Ilyana examined it once again, taking a few moments. “I don’t have the supplies to treat it properly, and Zephyr knows we can’t go to Arvendon to get them,” Ilyana said.

Castien tried to meet her gaze, but her eyes were still fixed on his arm. “What can we do?” He winced again as he shifted his arm.

Ilyana furrowed her brow, her Elosian features twisting. “I should wrap it,” she said. “We were always taught growing up to loosely wrap Scorcher burns—not too tightly to where it puts pressure on the skin, but enough so that we can protect the blisters while they begin to heal.” Ilyana looked around as if searching for something. She reached her hand up to the fabric of her robe and drew a knife with her other hand. Slowly, she started cutting off the arm of the robe.

Castien winced again as Ilyana started wrapping the gray fabric against his arm. Twists of blue decorated the cloth, making for a strange mismatch against his vermillion vest.

Moments later, the makeshift bandage was secured.

“Are you ready to talk now?” Ilyana asked, raising her gray eyes to meet his gaze.

Castien looked away, clenching his good hand. He should punch her right now. She murdered the King. Did she really expect him to just let that go?

Ilyana took his silence as a yes and began speaking. “My last name isn’t Xirel,” she said. She spoke slowly, carefully, as if she were trying to keep it as simple as possible. “It’s Nightingale.”

“You—” Castien started, blinking. Nightingale… That name was familiar. The fog over his mind lifted slightly. Castien’s eyes widened. Nightingale… The King of Celes was Brennan Nightingale, which meant… “You’re one of the Celesian Royals?”

“I am,” Ilyana said. “I was sent to Arvendon to infiltrate the royal court and act as a spy for my father, King Brennan Nightingale of Celes.” Ilyana lowered her eyes. “A few years ago, the King held a competition to determine his next agent. I entered as a way to prove my skill and hopefully gain a position of influence in the court,” Ilyana said. “I made it to the finals, and I should’ve let Delmorian win… I should’ve, but damnit I couldn’t.” Ilyana paused. “When I won the fight, the King wanted to appoint me as his agent, but I couldn’t accept—the role would’ve had me outside of the city more often than not, preventing me from gathering information.

“I truly had no intention of doing this much damage to Arvendon,” Ilyana continued. “For over a year now I have simply been feeding information back to Celes, telling them of Arvendon’s courts and explaining the workings of their armies.”

“Yet… you killed the King,” Castien whispered.

“I had no choice,” Ilyana said. “After Titansworn betrayed my people… After he killed my father, I had to do something.”

Castien paused. He didn’t remember hearing anything about an assassination in Celes. Granted, he wasn’t highly ranked enough to be informed about such things, but something like that would’ve likely reached the public ear by now.

“I never intended to kill the King,” Ilyana said. “I did, however, have a plan to assassinate someone in Arvendon’s ranks, though my father would decide who. Celes has its fair share of enemies in Arvendon’s court, and one of these was meant to be my target—my father sent another spy ahead to ensure we chose the right one. The goal was to kill the noble and plant evidence to make it seem as though I had killed a Celesian spy, thus deepening the King’s trust in me.

“That was why I brought you into the plan in the first place,” Ilyana continued. “You seemed so helpless and lost on the expedition that I figured you could benefit from gaining the favor of the King.” Ilyana paused. “By the time that I knew my target was the King, you were too involved in the plan.”

“But…” Castien said slowly. “Why did Arvendon order your father’s death?”

“I don’t know, but I intend to find out,” Ilyana said.

Castien stared off toward the horizon. “Why hasn’t news of your father’s assassination reached the public yet?”

“My contact was the only one in Arvendon who knew before today,” Ilyana said. “He told me the news the night before the Solstice, and together we decided that the only way forward was to assassinate Titansworn.” Ilyana paused. “The only reason the rest of the world doesn’t know about my father’s death is because the Elosian borders were locked down; only my contact was allowed through.”

Castien blinked a few times. So Arvendon did assassinate the King of Celes? He looked around, scanning the Wisp-covered beach. Boulders dotted the sands, damp with the crashing water of the waves. Castien turned back to Ilyana.

Ilyana looked up, her eyes brightening a bit. “I’m sorry, Castien,” she said. “I didn’t mean to bring you into this, but I had no choice. If I had tried to do this alone, I would have failed. I needed your help with the distraction, but you wouldn’t have helped me if you knew the truth.”

The sun shined brightly overhead, glaring into Castien’s curious eyes as he scanned the sky. Sunbirds and blazecrests soared overhead, flaunting their majestic beauty for all the world to see.

“How long was I unconscious?” Castien asked after a moment.

“You slept through the rest of the night and most of today,” Ilyana said.

Castien looked up, scanning the cliffs—which were several hundred feet tall. He noted the remnants of a rope hanging halfway up, swinging slightly in the breeze. “What happened?”

“After you were burned by the Prince, you passed out,” Ilyana said. “I had attached a series of ropes and carabiners to the cliffside the night before—that’s why I was out so late. I had planned for you and me to climb down, but obviously, that couldn’t happen. Instead, I was able to create a makeshift harness out of the spare ropes and carabiners and lower you down next to me,” Ilyana said. “It took hours, and we had several close calls, but we made it—clearly.”

Castien looked back to the cliffs that rose impossibly high overhead. We went down that?

“Once we reached the bottom, I knew they would come looking for us, so I found the crevice and hid you there. Then, I walked out from the beach toward where the grass began, leaving behind my footprints. I walked back backward so that it would look like there were two sets. When I got back to these rocks, I found a crevice of my own to hide in, and waited. A squadron of guards came looking for us—I assume that they spotted the ropes from above and knew that we had climbed down. They passed these rocks without looking twice. They probably think we’re miles away by now.”

“But…” Castien trailed off. She had saved him, again. She could’ve easily left him behind to be killed by Faelyn, but she hadn’t. Ilyana had once again found a way to save his life. No, Castien thought. She was the reason my life was in danger in the first place, he reminded himself. The King was dead, and Ilyana was to blame.

Castien sighed. He closed his eyes, finding his heartbeat, then took a deep breath, syncing his breathing to the rhythm of his pulse. Opening his eyes, Castien felt part of the haze lift.

Ilyana was staring at the sand as the waves washed up beside her blood-stained blue and gray dress.

Looking down at his own vermillion vest, Castien felt shame. How could he wear the colors of the country that he had just doomed? The entire left sleeve was missing—burned away by Faelyn Titansworn. Many other holes were beginning to form in the vest, as well as in his black pants.

But he had bigger things to think about, like… like…

Calida’s Claws! The Starburner Crystal! Castien’s right hand instinctively snapped toward his pocket. He halted sharply, his eyes slowly shifting to Ilyana.

“If you’re trying to be subtle about reaching for that Crystal, don’t bother,” Ilyana said. “I already know about it.”

“What?” Castien gaped.

Ilyana glanced at him, flashing a half smile. “I went through your pockets looking for anything that might help us once we reached the bottom of the ropes.”

Castien glared.

“Oh, don’t give me that look. You would’ve done the same thing.”

Castien looked down, pulling the small, fragmented Crystal from his pocket.

“Is it what I think it is?” Ilyana asked after a moment.

Castien looked over to her once again. “Yes,” Castien said quietly.

Ilyana grunted, nodding to herself. She walked over to one of the nearby rocks and sat down.

Castien moved his arm slightly, testing the tightness of his bandage. It was sufficient.

“Where did you find a Starburner Crystal anyway?” Ilyana asked. “I know that the Blood Sorcerers are returning, but I can’t imagine where you would’ve found a Crystal like that.”

“The Blood Sorcerers gave it to me,” Castien said. “…kind of. The Crystal that you hit when you threw a knife at them to save me back in The Highlands, it was a Starburner Crystal.”

“Hmmm,” Ilyana said, sitting back on her heels. “Strange that the Blood Sorcerers would have a Starburner Crystal on hand,” Ilyana said. “Although there seem to be empty Skin-Shaper Crystals popping up all over now, so who knows what’s going on.”

“What?” Castien asked. He rubbed the outside of his arm lightly, feeling a slight sting of the nerves as he did so.

“Skin-Shapers—shapeshifters,” Ilyana said. “Their Crystals were always depicted as green in the ancient texts and paintings, and the guards have found more than a few of them around Arvendon over the past few weeks.”

“What does it mean?” Castien asked, releasing his arm and rubbing his shoulder.

Ilyana raised an eyebrow. “The Crystals obviously mean that a Skin-Shaper must be in Arvendon—likely impersonating someone else—though trying to find out who would be a nightmare, so nothing has really been done about it.”

Nyghtmaere, Castien thought. His eyes closed, flickering back to the night before. A wall cracked in half. A Shadow-Swift crashing through the rubble, killing a dozen men in mere seconds. “What was the Shadow-Swift doing there last night?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Ilyana said. “My contact told me that he had set up a distraction, though he didn’t say what it was. After the Shadow-Swift showed up, I figured that was what he meant.” Ilyana paused. “Though I did see something strange as we were descending. It almost looked like two Shadow-Swifts were fighting in the night.”

Two? Castien thought.

“Of course, given that there are said to be no more than three Shadow-Swifts on Auris currently, that doesn’t make any sense. Why would they be fighting each other?” Ilyana said.

The steady beat of the waves seemed to sync with Castien’s heart. The fog in his head lifted slightly, and he realized how foolish he was being. “How do I know you’re not lying to me about all of this?” Castien asked. “How am I honestly supposed to believe anything you say, given that you’ve been lying to me all this time?”

Ilyana looked toward the sea. “I understand your apprehension,” Ilyana said. “I wouldn’t trust me either right now.”

Castien followed her gaze, staring out at the Salarin Sea. The waves were shrouded in Wisps, whose white tails screeched and whistled through the waves with delight as the water rolled in. “Why did you save me last night?” Castien asked.

“I don’t know,” Ilyana said quietly.

“You could’ve left me behind,” Castien said. “It would’ve been easier to descend the ropes alone, and it would be easier to flee Arvendon’s lands without me.”

“I’m aware,” Ilyana said, still facing the sea.

“Yet you still saved me,” Castien said, watching the waves roll in. “Why—”

“Look, maybe I felt sorry for you, okay?” Ilyana interrupted. “I’m the reason you got into that mess… It didn’t feel right to not at least try to get you out of it.”

Castien looked at her, watching her glazed-over eyes.

“Listen, I don’t expect you to trust me, but I can get you to safety,” Ilyana said. “You can’t go back to Arvendon now—they’ll kill you on sight—but you can come with me to Celes.”

“Who’s to say that I couldn’t just turn you in to Arvendon and hope that I’m set free as a reward?” Castien asked.

Ilyana snorted. “Even if you could somehow incapacitate me and take me back to the city, are you really willing to bet your life on how the new King[PS1]  will react?” Ilyana asked. “Faelyn’s father is dead, and as far as he knows, you are partially responsible… I think that regardless of what kind of trade you try to make with him, you’re not going to leave that city alive.”

Castien looked down, feeling his breathing increase again. She was likely correct. He couldn’t return to Arvendon, even if he somehow managed to bring them Ilyana as a prisoner. “This is great,” Castien grumbled. “Just great.”

“I can guarantee that you’ll be safe in Celes,” Ilyana said. “As Princess[PS2] , I can find you a place to stay for a little while.”

Castien didn’t respond.

“With that arm, you won’t be able to survive in the wilderness on your own,” Ilyana said. “I hate to put it this way: But you don’t exactly have a lot of options, Stormless.”

Castien winced at the name. It still stung, even after all that she had done to him. The worst part was that she was right. He doubted he could even shoot a bow because of his burn. Heading south would require circumventing Arvendon… And the only thing north of Etherus’s border was Celes and the rest of Elos.

“When do we leave?” Castien grunted.

“So you’re coming with me?” Ilyana asked, sounding surprised.

“I don’t have a choice,” Castien said. “If I stay here, I die. If I return to Arvendon, I die. If I go anywhere but north, I die.” Castien looked at his bandaged arm again, feeling a tingling sensation in his skin.

Ilyana fell silent for a moment. “When a monarch in Celes dies, the royal family votes on who should inherit the throne. It could even be me, though I doubt it. Either way, I’ll need to be there for at least a few weeks.” Ilyana paused.

Castien looked down, staring at his bandaged arm. “When do we leave?” he asked quietly.

“We should go under the cover of nightfall,” Ilyana said. “We’ll leave after dark tonight and travel as quickly as our feet will carry us. With any luck, we’ll be to the Elos-Etherus port of Fairfrost in a week. From there, we can steal a ship to Celes.”

“And then what?” Castien asked, rising to his feet. “You get to live happily ever after in your home, leaving me as a criminal who can’t even return to my city without losing my head?”

Ilyana paused. “We’ll figure something out. I can provide you a place to stay in Celes for as long as you need it… But you’re free to go wherever you please. I suggest you stay in Celes long enough for your arm to heal, but it’s your choice.” Ilyana turned away, seemingly ending the conversation as she gazed off into the sea. The two of them were well in the shadow of the cliffs, and spotting them from above would be impossible.

Castien glanced to the side, spotting the twin trails of footsteps leading down the beach that Ilyana had made. He shook his head. She was good at what she did, he had to admit. He had no choice but to follow her to Celes—it was the only place he would be safe.

But he would come up with a plan. He needed Ilyana’s help to get to Celes, but after that, he would be able to make it on his own. He could even sabotage Celes from within after the war broke out… Perhaps if he helped Arvendon enough he could find a way to be allowed back in the city.

It wasn’t much, but it was something. Ilyana had just turned his life upside down, and he had no choice but to try and turn it right side up once more.