Ayre

With Snapdragon’s help, Fia and her exit the barrack with entire armfuls of liquid curatives.

“I demanded three doses of everything!” Fia announces, pridefully puffing out her chest and pushing the bounty in my direction.

Easing the door shut behind them, Snapdragon eyes Theriya and I with a sudden interest. “I hate to interrupt, but all of this did not come without a cost.”

“Is killing a drake not enough for everyone all of a sudden?” My words are lighthearted, undercut only slightly by Theriya quickly withdrawing her hands from within my quilted jacket.

Contrary to what anyone might be thinking, Theriya has been worried about keeping an eye out for any swelling or irritated skin that would signal more drastic measures.

Her words, not mine.

Fia is quick to chirp up, her eyes flitting between the two of us as her cheeks redden. “Oh! Um. They wanted to trade exposure to some pretty gemstones in exchange for any healing. The Seer Sapling Lady got even more insistent when it was explained to her that the healing was for poison that Master drained from this one!”

Oh.

Resonance extraction first.

Healing second.

Depths, I should have thought about that.

“I should have gone in with you.” I say. Subjecting myself to this in front of the Thorns is the least I could have done.

Theriya squeezes at a stretch of my forearm not made sensitive by growing scales. “You’ve paid enough already.” She says matter of factly as her way of assurance.

“About that.” Snapdragon waits until she has our attention. “Astraea was the first to report for treatment.”

I stiffen at the mention of her name, my gaze snapping to the barrack.

Snapdragon’s words soften. “She was just finishing up when the rest of us arrived. When asked where you were, she took a seat instead of leaving.”

“She offered to subject herself to the stones in this one’s place!” Fia chimes in, painting me the last of the picture.

I look down again at the bounty of curatives. Fifteen containers of various liquids span the length of how much the arms of Snapdragon and Fia can carry. Each one already paid in suffering that Astraea volunteered to suffer in my stead. For my benefit, even.

I close my eyes.

“Okay.” Is all I say.

I reach out to take the first of the curatives prepared for me.

Theriya holds out a hand in warning.

Snapdragon takes a step back.

Only Fia starts by offering me a clear explanation as to why I should suffer just a little longer. “Astraea picked all of these out herself! She stuck to what she was familiar with during her time at sea and wanted this one to swear to her that you take these alongside food!”

Snapdragon gives me an apologetic look. “This one is safe to imbibe for now, provided you get something else to drink before too long.” She shuffles the curatives in her arms before handing it to me.

“Medicine and food.” I say, to comfort Astraea more than anyone else. “Then I will be sure to give Astraea my thanks. After that, we can all go home.”

Fia is pleased.

Snapdragon quirks an eyebrow.

All it takes from Theriya is a dismissive wave of the hand born out of exhaustion and impatience to smooth Snapdragon’s expression into one resembling satisfaction. The Seer talks over the wordless communication with other details. “Cerya should be finished handling the morning’s affairs by then. If the two of you don’t mind, I would like to send you both ahead. Most of us are long overdue for a steaming hot bath, don’t you agree?”

Fia’s visible resistance to being dismissed by someone other than me melts away at the mention of a bath.

Such things were only a brief extravagance back in Vylia, limited to our time at court.

Fia looks at me, stifling her own excitement until I nod in agreement.

“I agree with Theriya. Between the long trip from Vylia and yesterday’s excitement, a hot bath should go a long way in refreshing us all before today’s binding ceremony.” My words seem enough to satisfy Fia and Snapdragon both.

Snapdragon does not hide her eyes quickly darting between Theriya and I. She narrows her gaze in thought before biting down on her lip.

When it is clear she has nothing to say, Theriya clears her throat. “All of you deserve an opportunity to reap the rewards of what you sow and protect.” Theriya holds out a pair of hands to Snapdragon and I both.

Food.

Rest.

A little time to recover.

It is enough that Snapdragon holds her tongue until we are seated outside a little building where the wood and metalwork is finer than most. “I am relieved that you are choosing to make the time to take care of yourself. With Theriya here, I half expected the two of you to be finding new trouble to get into.”

“In due time.” I say. “But a part of me feels like I should be thanking Astraea. She had plenty of opportunities to do far worse than she has done.”

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“If you’re sure.” Snapdragon says, eyeing the half a dozen groups gathered around our destination. Outside seating seems reserved for those still in their gear, fresh from their own morning tasks. Where Snapdragon and I are covered in blood, others are bathed in sawdust, soot, or mud.

No one spares us more than a glance before returning to their meals. Only a third of them have the pointed ears and mud stained gear I feel comfortable associating with Watchers. They are decidedly better equipped than any of the Seedlings I’ve met. Older and scarred, too.

One of the Elder Watchers catches my eye. With a grin and a nod, she raises a mug in my direction.

“Wyrm Eater!” She greets me with a chant of all things.

Her words are echoed by all those with pointed ears. Even Snapdragon joins in the Watchers’ refrains of praise.

It seems word travels fast among the sharp of hearing and most attentive.

Snapdragon shares with me a warm smile that lasts long after we are seated. “You just earned the praise of the Crimson Moons. They’re the only Watchers older than the grove itself to remain.”

Theriya leans against me, reaching over to knock four times against the window adjacent to our table. “It means they’ve guarded this grove through nights and eclipses long before there were any proper walls and defenses.”

I chew on that, weighing whether to ask about the knock or the nearby company of veteran killers who have decided to give me a nickname.

The window opens before I get a chance. Spices and roasted meats are but the first of many scents to snatch my attention.

Glimmer stones bathe the interior in vibrantly warm colors. Wooden platters piled to another window’s height are deftly shuffled out and distributed to another table on the building’s far side.

Before I can puzzle at the seeming lack of anyone responsible, sheets of parchment flitter from the windowsill. Only once they are placed in front of me do I realize everything within and without the establishment is tended to by tiny winged figures with flickering orange wings. I had previously mistook them for crackles of flame over the many fire pits food is prepared.

The building’s interior being bathed in red glimmer stones certainly doesn’t make it any easier. Although the more I look around, it is only Watchers like Snapdragon and the Crimson Moons reacting to the many motions performed by the winged folk.

Everyone else seems concerned only by menus, food, and the company they keep.

Until my eyes turn back to Theriya, who only seems to have eyes for me.

I’m suddenly aware of the smile on my face.

“See anything you like?” She asks.

I look down at my hands, absentmindedly cupped around one of hers instead of the curative I had absentmindedly set down. “Yeah. There’s… a lot to appreciate all of a sudden.”

She holds up a menu for me to read with another hand. “Don’t you worry. None of the Scorch Sprites here will demand anything of you over a little food.” She says, smiling warmly before reading off her order to a winged attendant.

“Although they will get a little eager if you mention wanting something overcooked.” Snapdragon warns.

I look over the menu, listening with amusement as Fia reads off an intent to sample everything at my encouragement.

When the Scorch Sprite makes its way around the table to me, I make a decision.

“A peace offering.” I say.

***

Snapdragon rejoins us mere moments after our food is served. Fia and Theriya sit at my side as Snapdragon and Astraea sit down across from us.

With a smile, I raise what remains of the cider already imbibed with the offered curative.

“Lady Wyrmsbane!” I cry aloud.

Snapdragon, the Crimson Moons, and another planting of Watchers who recently arrived all echo my chant.

Astraea holds herself still, her face an expressionless mask as the words sink in. After eyeing the seared crustacean I requested the Sprites prepare for her, she takes a deep breath.

And allows a small smile to spread across her lips.

“I take it you’ve heard the title they’ve come up for you.” She finally says.

“Yeah.” I confirm, my expression giving away nothing.

Astraea remains stiff as she holds my gaze. “Are you comfortable with me using it? Or is there something else you would prefer?” Her words are soft, lacking any presumption as she begins by accounting for any change in how I am to be perceived and addressed.

After a few thoughtful moments, I decide to bounce the question back at her. “In your opinion, would doing so lessen me in the eyes of others?”

There is pain in the expression of my once-protector as she averts her gaze, catches herself, and faces up to harsh words she has leveled at me. “No. But if you want my advice, you should only claim for yourself a title that reflects how you wish to be perceived.”

It is hard to ignore the regret in her tone.

I narrow my eyes, keenly aware that they have changed since last we spoke.

After my withering gaze earns me the desired effect, I relent. “In that case I will keep it. As my Sworn Blade, you can address me by it or my name as circumstances demand.” Gesturing to the seasoned feast between us, I invite everyone to partake at their leisure.

Theriya sips from a cup with a familiar bitter root seeped in the liquid before leaning in close. “If you asked me, one would wonder if the titles suggest a shared history between the two of you.”

Astraea looks between the two of us before her shoulders finally begin to show signs of relaxing. “I cannot avoid admitting that similar circumstances are what initially caused me to take an interest in Ayre. But no. It shames me to admit that if we were to compare our youths, I suspect I would find myself wanting.”

Fia grins, showing off strips of half chewn flesh between her teeth. “But of course! Master is the most relentless, kind, and thoughtful broodling to emerge from the depths of the Castellan’s crucible!”

“As lovely a picture as that paints...” Theriya leans forward, presenting herself as the picture of a Seer interested in getting to hear about her future bound, as she guides the discussion. “I would prefer to take a page from what you said before. Speak of yourself as you wish to be perceived. Tell us about the kind of life that leads to you serving as Ayre’s protector. What led you to dedicate your life towards protecting one of the Castellan’s favored children?”

I watch with amusement as Astraea becomes aware of the kind of position she is being maneuvered into.

She trades an easy enough smile with Theriya, painting much the same details gleaned from the end of carriage ride shared with me. It is only when she remarks upon Lady Wyrmsbane being a name that fit her better than anything her parents or she herself could ever come up with that her gaze turns to me. “Feeling like someone else sees something in me that I cannot was never going to last. My crowning achievement could never have been to take the life of an ancient beast. And sure enough, day by day, the magic of my namesake’s achievement began to fade.”

I think back, realizing that this was the part of her story I never got to hear.

I couldn’t believe it.

Still can’t.

Not even knowing I am surrounded by a growing number of those I care about or as the title of Wyrm Eater echoes in my memory. There is a building warmth within me that has nothing to do with the seared meat of a beast I do not recognize.

I’m living through the beats of Astraea’s life like it is my own.

Astraea pushes away her crustacean, leaving it half eaten. The artifice of this public scene demanding she avoid speaking in details that would put her in danger does nothing to dull the effect her words have on me.

“Instead of realizing that my truth was handed to me by another, I allowed myself to be remade and used by someone whose words once brought me comfort.” Astraea sits back, presenting herself as merely having a bad taste in her mouth. She tugs at the collar of her own quilted coat in an angle that only Theriya and I can see.

The gesture reveals freshly bruised flesh around her throat in the shape and size of hands that so recently manifested to protect her.

I shiver at the memory of those spectral hands on my shoulder, withdrawing inside myself as I tune out my surroundings for the remainder of the meal.

I don’t miss much.

Astraea is no longer looking at anyone in the present, her gaze turned wistfully into the past.

“You didn’t come for me.” I finally say, finally accepting the weight of everyone’s attention. “And yet I’m the one you chose.”