The question of whether life originates from stars is immaterial, wrote Al’ur the Wise, for the reality one must contend with is how starlight impacts, and indeed enhances, one’s lifeforce. We need not understand the genesis of a process to make beneficial advancements in its application.
Perhaps a separation of definition will be helpful here. ‘Starlight’ can properly be understood as the energy of life itself, abstracted as it were. ‘Lifeforce,’ on the other hand, is that energy in motion, in breath and effort. Starlight is the source, that light so separate from our world and most often glimpsed in the heavenly bodies of the night sky. Lifeforce is that which we see and feel, and live by.
To return to the initial point, the nature of starlight may well be beyond our grasp, but the utilisation of lifeforce is certainly within comprehension. One need not precisely define the composition of fire before its uses become apparent.
So the heavy tome went on, in a surprising synthesis of philosophy and practice. Asphales had finally found himself with some spare time and had spent the day in the Hall of Records. Between continued lessons under Amaleron’s tutelage and helping out in the castle, it was a rare moment that Asphales could sit down with an open book. His stories had certainly not prepared him for the busyness a prospective hero would be burdened with.
But now at last, he had managed to make some headway into Amaleron’s assigned reading. It was perhaps not the most riveting book, but to one forced to wrestle with such matters in a very real way, its content was all the more relevant. The text reinforced and elucidated what Asphales had experienced, though it was a pre-Monarchic Era analysis, before the Elders had had a second hand in the shaping of the world. Amaleron’s approach to learning was more cerebral, to be sure, and his lessons did not have as many dramatic effects. Having felt his lifeforce unleashed under Eltanin’s supervision, Asphales was itching for action. Still, it was better to keep his mind occupied than to have his skittering feet wander.
Asphales sighed and turned the page.
Many would be aware of the variegated temperaments and personalities in people, and indeed the compatibility between such different dispositions which is its own complex problem. However, it is becoming increasingly apparent that such diversity among men is driven by dizzyingly intricate interactions between our environment and the starlight afforded to all living things. Some scholars link one’s resultant composition to that which we know as constellations – the set patterns of the stars wheeling our mortal plane.
Perhaps the answer is not so simple, as exceptions to any proposed model so far are readily available. But fascinating (and promising) are the studies which indicate that the flow of starlight itself within a person tends to align itself within demonstrable patterns. Should these patterns become mapped and understood, perhaps we would be a step closer to understanding ourselves – our natures, our inclinations, our aspirations – and within reach of working together and attaining much-needed unity.
Asphales put the book down and stretched his arms. Al’ur’s reflections were hopeful, idealistic even, written before the fall of Ulmìr had shattered these optimistic notions and men had maligned starlight itself as dangerous. Asphales suspected that had been the reason people’s perspective on the nature of lifeforce had stagnated over the centuries, to the point such discussions were dismissed in towns like Silnodìr.
A chair nearby scraped as its occupant reached for another volume. Asphales could not see who it was. In this labyrinth of timber and tomes, musty and primeval both, he was afforded privacy with his pages. While he would normally welcome the isolation a good book offered, today he longed for companionship and chatter. Perhaps he had been somewhat changed by recent events.
At the back of his mind, a concern for Valinos lingered. They had come into contact with the Order again. Asphales wondered what that had done to Valinos’ own thoughts and plans. Valinos had surprised everyone, and certainly the Keeper of Birds himself most of all, by taking to the sky a few nights ago. However baffling that act had been, Asphales hoped it bought his best friend some clarity and offset the frustrations of recent setbacks.
And so, uneasily, he shifted and shuffled, attempting to return to his study without much fruit and finding his gaze wandering to the sunny outdoors glimpsed through the windows, beyond this cramped place of learning.
The rhythmic flicker of a page turned and the occasional cough were all the accompaniment Asphales enjoyed for a couple more hours. That was perhaps not fair, considering Asphales had in his hand the chance to encounter one of his scholarly idols. He scolded himself and focused as much as possible on Al’ur’s musings on starlight.
But another distraction appeared when tender footsteps sounded behind Asphales’ desk. He set the book down, took it as a welcome intrusion, and turned to see who was approaching.
Nelesa, scholar and soldier, walked over.
‘Asphales,’ she said, ‘I hope I did not startle or disturb you.’ She placed clasped hands before her and bowed slightly. Asphales was taken aback. Though there were many unimaginable matters he had had to accept in the past turn of the moon, being greeted respectfully ranked among them as most unexpected. Whether because of the town’s suspicion against him or the general nature of a fishing village, Silnodìr’s manner of addressing him was more… vulgar.
‘Hello,’ he said, closing the book entirely and standing up from his desk. Asphales would take this as a sign that his study for the day could come to an end.
‘Al’ur’s treatise on starlight,’ Nelesa said as she looked down at the overturned book. ‘His theory on the different colours of starlight is fascinating.’
‘Yes. I figured I better brush up on my theory, given how things have turned out with me.’
Nelesa smiled. She was wearing a simple, collared shirt and a vest to keep away the cold. The library was cooler than the other wards, lit as it was by mere candlelight and lacking the warmth of crowded company and cheer. Asphales noticed a moonglint pendant hanging around her neck and smiled. He suspected its source.
‘Yes, and I suppose you will eventually find yourself on the frontlines, as I did. If you’ve got time between the training, the chores, and your calling, these would be worth a look.’ She pointed over to a series of books titled On Military Tactics.
‘Thank you. How are the others?’
‘Can’t keep them bedridden. Guldar and Leara insisted on being discharged the next day. It took a while longer for Amarant Nadros to be back on his feet, but he’s done it. You’ll see.’
Asphales sighed. ‘I’m relieved to hear that.’
‘Now, I’m here to deliver a summons. Amaleron has set the time for council and we are to meet tonight. Hall of the Elders, twentieth watch.’
Asphales nodded. He felt like he had swallowed a stone. For this council would portend war. ‘Has anything happened?’ he asked, trying to still his nerves and hoping he did not sound overtly croaky.
‘Yes, actually. Valinos himself has come up with an idea.’ Before Asphales’ bemusement could explode and disturb the silence of the library, Nelesa put up her hand. ‘I don’t know much about it, myself. I guess we’ll all find out tonight.’
Asphales nodded again. ‘Thank you. I’ll be there.’
Nelesa smiled and prepared to leave. ‘You’re worried about him, Asphales,’ she said softly. ‘El’enur has noticed as well. But I assure you, whatever happens, we will be right there. We’ll watch over him. And as along as Darius is by his side, you know…’ She attempted a reassuring smile. Then she bowed again and left.
Asphales sat down. He was shaking slightly, and not from the chill air in the library. He knotted his hands together and rubbed his palms. A moment’s painful wrestling with questions revealed that he would resolve nothing sitting on his own here. Asphales gathered his things and set out for the exit with trepidation.
But above the meandering confusion of what would happen next, a comforting thought settled. There was something to aspire to in Nelesa. She proved one could be both learned and trained. These were not competing interests but complementary invitations.
To know the world and to protect it.
The opportune moment Amaleron had been seeking came one night unsuspecting. It came from a man who had taken to the sky and returned with a simple, daring plan.
A clearheaded, if crazy, idea.
And on this Moonspell evening, nearly a dozen of Anardes’ military leaders stood with mouths agape at the boldness (or stupidity) of one.
‘Say that again?’ Asphales said, after Valinos summarised his tactic.
The steward had gathered the three Amarants, their sub-commanders, and an assortment of council leaders in the antechamber of the Hall of the Elders. Crowded around a stone slab, their purpose was to fashion a plan which would tackle the Order’s growing and mysterious dealings at the Dragon’s Eye.
A map of Anardes lay sprawled on the table. Seeing it like this made Asphales realise how more well-travelled he was now, and how much more there was still left to see. Even in the flickering light, the tantalising borders drawn in ink set his imagination afire. Silnodìr, and even Fara’ethar and Taeladran—places he could only have imagined previously—were little illustrations on a map which stretched on and on.
The Dragon’s Eye, the location of current interest, was sketched in the far east of Anardes, where the last remnants of Gohenur broke against the roots of the Undorn range. The Eye itself was a lake, so named for its shape, but its other feature of note was its proximity to Baladran, a ruined city of old. Earlier, Amarant Darius had scrawled a rough circle over the region as Nadros outlined the findings their expedition had yielded. The old Amarant had a wooden leg fashioned for use and fastened to his stumpy limb. He walked with some difficulty but was clearly glad to be out and about again.
Now, Darius leant against the chamber wall, looking on. He seemed to be the only one unsurprised by Valinos’ proposition.
‘Send me,’ Valinos repeated, after taking a deep breath. ‘The Order wants me. I don’t know what for, but I know this from our encounter in Gohenur. And even Nathariel hinted as much. He acted suspiciously around me when the others weren’t around at Taeladran. He seemed to know more about me than he let on.’
No one responded at first. Asphales could tell from their heavy gazes that they were considering his words.
‘And how do you propose to be sent, exactly?’ asked Guldar.
Valinos hesitated, but whether from uncertainty or from the fact this next part of the plan was even more shocking, Asphales did not know at first.
‘Amarant Darius is to… kidnap me and present me to the Order as their prize, at the Dragon’s Eye.’
Blank faces blinked, but did not speak. Darius’ eyebrow shot up.
This time it was Asphales who spoke up first. ‘Valinos, that is rash. It’s crazy!’ He had not meant to, but his voice rose and resounded in the chamber. El’enur, Nelesa, and Adélia looked at him, and Asphales thought he caught the concern they were trying to express. They knew.
‘Asphales, you vowed that you would help me find answers,’ Valinos shot back. ‘Whatever it takes. Well, I am convinced now, this is what it takes. Are you with me still?’
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
Asphales was taken aback. Standing there among titans, he felt pressure. He intended to honour that oath, be it small and intimate compared to the promises made by those whose very profession was battle and protection.
‘This isn’t just about some vendetta, is it?’ Darius asked.
‘No. For once, I’m thinking clearly. For once in my damned life, I know what I have to do.’
‘But you think to direct the course of the military here,’ Leara protested.
‘Peace, Lady Leara,’ Amaleron said, intervening. He considered a moment, then spoke gently. ‘Scarce three tides ago we had gathered ourselves for council, new hope and information suddenly afforded to us. Here we stand once more, with loss and burdens on our backs but nary a direction, save for the name of a bygone place. We will consider the logistics shortly, but let us hear him out. Valinos?’
‘It’s not just for me. We saw the Order can strike anywhere. How safe did we think we were at Taeladran? How untouchable did Eltanin consider himself? And yet, here we are… I believe this will be your chance to finally know what you’re up against. Send me.’
Valinos did not speak of what was now surely on the minds of the others. How safe do we consider ourselves here?
‘I’m convinced,’ El’enur said. ‘I don’t want a repeat of our loss at Taeladran. I can’t bear that again.’ The archer’s eyes were steely, determined.
‘Well it’s not you he’s sending off, is it?’ Guldar asked. ‘Darius, how do you feel about this?’
The Amarant pushed off the wall and stepped closer.
‘Hopefully,’ Darius said, ‘the Order is under the impression I’m about to defect. Well, this would certainly make my conversion believable. Boy, your plan is full of holes, but it’s got heart. Still, what do you suppose will happen once you and I are there in the Order’s clutches?’
Valinos looked at a loss for words.
‘No one will deny your earnestness, Valinos,’ the steward said. ‘However, this does not preclude caution or levelheadedness. Everyone, we are here to ensure this desperate attempt—for that is what it is—works.’ Evidently, Valinos had already run his idea past Amaleron and it was now receiving wider critique.
‘I imagine you’ll want a complement of hidden soldiers with you,’ El’enur said. ‘I’m in.’
‘Well-hidden,’ Leara intervened. ‘How do you figure we move a sizeable army to the Eye without being seen?’
‘That’s true,’ Ishak said. ‘We’re not sure what we’ll find at the Eye, but we can’t underestimate the size of the opposing force if this is indeed the centre of their operation. So that means sending out, what, at least a mane’s worth of men?’
The others now stared at the map and frowned, treating the distance between the castle and the Eye like a puzzle to be solved.
‘Can we find out what we’re getting into first? Is there any way to scout ahead?’ Nelesa was tapping her finger as she asked the questions.
‘We could send sky boy over there, riding the eagle.’ The suggestion came from El’enur, perhaps half-jokingly. Asphales smiled. The news of what had happened at Birdswatch spread quickly.
Valinos let out a breath. ‘I… I don’t know how I did that.’
‘Even so,’ Amaleron said with a grunt, ‘that will not be a viable option. Gidius is presently occupied. The will of a great-eagle is its own, and we cannot be sure when he will return.’
‘Expediency is essential here,’ Darius said. ‘This window I’ve opened… I don’t think it will be open long. We have to act very soon.’
‘So, the question remains: how do we move a mane unseen?’ Amarant Nadros’ clacking footsteps around the room provided unnerving urgency.
‘We can circumvent the open passes around Taeladran, through Gohenur forest.’ It was Adélia, speaking up for the first time. She traced a path through the forest on the map, leading right to the edge of the Eye. ‘Gohenur comes within a league of the lake. Once we’re that close, it should be too late for the Order to prepare.’
‘That has merit,’ Leara said. ‘But with all respect, you want to send the bulk of your army through Gohenur on a lead which may not bear fruit?’
‘And what about the rannakim?’ El’enur added.
It seemed Adélia did not interpret Leara’s opposition as a challenge to her leadership, and took no offense at El’enur interjection. ‘They do not tread deep in the forest. There are paths we could follow, away from their nests. It would mean our going would be slow and harsh, but it would be the safer road.’
Leara nodded. ‘You know the forest best, my lady.’
‘As for the journey’s end,’ Adélia continued, ‘that is part of the risk we are taking. We know not what we’ll find at the Dragon’s Eye. So I would not force any to jump blindly like this into the unknown. I would prefer the force be made up of the willing. Put the call out among the manes. And let them know there is no shame in abstaining from this expedition.’
The room seemed to be in agreement with this suggestion. Asphales found even more to admire in her as Amarant. Adélia’s care for her own and her wisdom inspired his own devotion and commitment. He thought of Valinos’ challenge, and knew he would answer in the affirmative.
‘That seems settled,’ Amaleron said. ‘Amarant Catena, if you are willing to lead a division through Gohenur and back up Amarant Darius and Valinos.’
Adélia nodded. ‘I am.’
‘So that leaves my part,’ Darius said, staring at the map.
‘We still have our doubts,’ a councilman said, ‘about the plan instigated by this youth.’ The councilman fidgeted with his moustache and eyepiece as he spoke. A couple of others grumbled their agreement. Valinos glowered.
‘Councilman Thrim,’ the steward addressed him with a sigh, ‘what is your exact concern with the suggestion?’
Thrim cleared his throat. ‘Why do we need to risk losing Amarant Darius in this way?’ Asphales flushed. It irked him that Valinos’ fate was apparently of no concern to them.
‘You’ll lose me anyway!’ Darius shouted. The room quieted. ‘Surely you have all heard of my dismissal. This will at least make something of the opportunity that has come about from this.’ Darius looked at each man in turn, daring further opposition, before addressing Adélia. ‘How long will it take to move an army into position?’
‘Two tides at least. It will be even slower going as we get near the Eye, if we want to mask signs of our approach. We’ll begin preparations immediately. The first division can leave with the sun tomorrow.’
Asphales gulped. So soon.
‘Good,’ Darius said. ‘Valinos, are you ready?’
Valinos snapped to attention. ‘Yes.’
‘We’ll depart shortly. We’ll cause a stir and distract attention from the moving army. Brace yourself. It is not going to be… comfortable.’
Valinos looked worried. El’enur smiled. If any objections remained, they were left unspoken and a sense of finality had been established around the chamber.
‘Two matters remain,’ Amaleron said, stepping up to the front of the room. Asphales was again taken aback by how tall the old man seemed.
The steward’s amber eyes fell to Asphales. ‘I suppose it is futile to ask that you not be involved in this.’
Asphales nodded. ‘I need to be out there. If I am thus gifted, I cannot squander it away in inactivity while others risk their lives. I will be careful, but I will be there for those who are there for me. Besides,’—his eyes found Valinos, who seemed relieved his plan had been accepted, and terrified that he now had to go through with it—‘I am with you, Valinos.’ He spoke not to the military leaders or the councilmen, but to a friend. And he affirmed this not as some hero of starlight, but as a friend.
Valinos returned his gaze and nodded.
Amaleron closed his eyes. ‘If thus it must be, we will trust Regulus’ design.’
El’enur approached Asphales and clasped his shoulder. In this together, he meant to say. Over by the table, Adélia’s eyes were still fixed on the map.
‘The second matter involves measures closer to home,’ Amaleron said, once again addressing everyone. ‘We must do what we can to ensure the secrecy of this plan. Amarants, I trust you will do all that is in your power to enact more stringent security.’
‘We are in the process of re-checking all enlisted soldiers’ backgrounds, and will make sure that is complete prior to the army heading out. We have tightened watches and set more guards around.’
Amaleron nodded, and the others signalled their approval as well.
‘I suspect we are being watched more closely than we realise,’ Darius continued. ‘From the note that set this whole affair into motion, the loss of our forest scout and Shurun’el appearance, not to mention the traitor in Taeladran’s own court.’
Asphales’ mind was taken back to the day the eagle had come down bearing the mysterious note. He looked across the room and Valinos seemed lost in thought, too. How far that little paper had carried them.
‘Vigilance, all,’ Darius finished. ‘We ousted the Order out of one little foxhole at Feres. But it seems this would be their burrow. It’s time to flush them out and cripple them, permanently. Starlight guide us.’
* * *
Windsell dawned, cool and clear. Sunlight broke over the mountains in the east. Shade and shadow fled. Dreams and darkness burned up. The lion banners arrayed along the castle’s wall greeted the sun. And the lion fastened to Oneledim, too, rose proud and flapped in the morning’s first, bright wind.
Adélia stood, washed in light, and breathed in warmth. Her spear and armour gleamed as she looked out from the watchtower over the first division. Two hundred armour-clad infantrymen, at the ready. More than that, they were two hundred brave men who had answered a call willingly. Among them were Ishak, and Asphales, the boy with jasper eyes who now walked as a man blessed by starlight.
Adélia lifted her helm and prepared to address the soldiers. She was not Roëthia, she knew that. She knew her words could not rouse the heart as hers did. But Adélia would instil something of the same courage she attempted to cling to.
‘This morn we set out to battle. I will not pretend that I know what awaits us. I will not give you false certainties. But I am certain of the power and virtue of those who stand before me. And I will say that no matter the outcome, I shall be proud of your service. Trust in the strength of your arm and the commitment of your heart. Entrust yourselves to the love of the other beside you.
May the might of Regulus and the mercy of Carinae direct our course this day and in days to come.’
A shout rose from the cobblestone courtyard. Fists and steel pumped the air.
‘For Fara’ethar! For Catena!’
That name rang like a false bell. Catena. A diversion. An untruth.
‘My companions,’ Adélia called out, ‘if I am to ask that you give your all for me and for this cause, it is right that I return the favour. You have graced me with your names, but I have kept back, stayed hidden.’
As she spoke, silence settled over the division.
Adélia willed herself to go on. But her voice caught in her throat. She looked for Asphales. She found his eyes in the crowd, steady and focused. Strength. Security. There was a strain of song in her heart, a quieted voice.
You are a blossoming flower.
‘I am Adélia Amal’ethar, daughter of ancient light,’ she cried. ‘My name is Adélia Amal’ethar!’ Relief came like the breaking of light through clouds.
Adélia. A song of scarlet flowers and flame. A broken dream. A ragged breath. A light unburning. That is who she was. It was time to face it. And more importantly, to face others with her true nature.
Amarant Adélia raised her spear and her kindled voice. ‘I offer you my name, my weapon, and my life. For this land, for this people.’
The soldiers’ devotion exploded in cheers.
‘For Adélia!’ they shouted. ‘For the one who burns with the lion’s spirit!’
Adélia closed her eyes and breathed in as the symphony of voices faded. It was done. Her name revealed. But still, there were some things that were hers alone. A fiery face. A blackened weapon.
She thought of Amarant Darius and Valinos. They had already gone out before the sunrise. They, too, fought for something they did not fully understand, tainted perhaps by ambitions and aspirations which they did not fully reveal. Darius carried his own pain, she knew that much. And Valinos… The others had been indignant of the one whose heart was glass, of his intentions behind the plan he suggested. But Adélia herself was no more innocent, a heart all splinter and shards.
She reminded herself she could be better. If Roëthia had cautioned that a backward step was sometimes necessary, Adélia now knew that a forward step could also be the right thing. She did not yet know what would happen when the moment of confrontation came, but this here was a pace forward, into the light.
As Adélia descended from the tower, soldiers hailed her. Armament clanked as they saluted. She nodded to each in turn and offered thanks.
‘My lady, I thank you,’ one in particular said. Adélia halted and looked at him. She could tell from the youthful eyes behind the helmet’s visor that this was someone relatively new.
‘What is your name?’ she asked.
The young warrior lifted his eye-shield. ‘It’s Telen, my lady.’ His excited voice did not betray any disappointment at not being recognised. His copper eyes were eager and self-sure.
‘Telen,’ she said. ‘Ishak has told me about you. You show promise. I am the one who should thank you, for all that you offer. Welcome to the mane.’
Adélia walked on, leaving the young warrior and joining a band of marching soldiers who were commencing the division’s formation. She walked past Ishak, who was gathering troops to follow. He paused a moment and glanced at her. He seemed teary, and his gaze was fatherly. Adélia smiled, and continued on.
She emerged out into the courtyard. Ten marching bootsteps became twenty. Then one hundred. More joined as the noise moved out of the castle grounds, through the Lion Gate, and into the path leading to battle.
Civilians watched from the streets and from open windows as the division passed. They spoke little, but offered the sign of starlight’s guidance as the soldiers went on. The march seemed doleful, each footstep echoing through quiet streets.
Adélia had heard this sound before, this musical clank of metal. It was the overture to war. But this time, it felt different.
She gazed to her right. Asphales had fallen into step beside her, at the head of the march. Yes, this was different. She was marching to war with the man next to her to whom she had opened up, like a flower seeking the sun.
A watch passed, and the waves of onlookers in narrow alleys disappeared. Now the division was marching along the plains of Guladran, sun slightly higher in the sky.
A watch later, and Guladran’s flats shifted into the unnatural plateaus on the edge of Gohenur.
Another watch. The army stood not far from the forest now, barren ground giving way to mounds crowned with trees. Autumn colours had seized the forest. Blankets of leaves arrayed like a welcoming carpet greeted the approaching division.
How quickly it all turned and passed. Time marched in one direction, Adélia knew, like an unthinking soldier to their doom, to the grave. But she would try to savour each breath, each moment of life.
‘Are you afraid, Asphales?’ she asked.
Asphales took a second before he spoke. He looked ahead at Gohenur’s entrance. ‘Here I am, for the second time about to enter the forest which changed my life. We go on towards an unknown goal, hanging our hopes on two who are barely in touch with their powers, and one of whom is scarcely trained for war. Yes, I am afraid.’ Then he looked at her, and his jasper eyes brimmed with light and courage. ‘But it needs to be done. This is our duty. We do this together.’
Adélia nodded. Even if the time had crept up in a blink, even if difficulties assailed them, this was precisely the moment to seize and respond and prove to the darkness that hope would not be smothered.
They entered the forest in lockstep. Adélia watched the army’s vanguard disappear beneath a shroud of trees.