Aelinore

  “By my count this is all that remains of the Thorned and Howling Watchers.” Amari’s sister speaks with a curious detachment as she tends to the most wounded among the survivors.

  Despite her care, it is clear that she has no sympathy to offer.

  For once, I don’t need Snapdragon at my side to provide any context. Spending the past hour standing on ceremony has been an exercise of unpleasantness in learning first hand how Lunaria’s rulers see everyone here like pieces on a board. And disposable ones at that.

  According to Primeval Seer Fel’Daen, Lunaria is already well poised to seize anything it might need from its neighbors. With the exception of promising new ruler material in me and my beloved Seers, Mel’Viora’s grove offers little worth replacing.

  But I’m not sure if now is the right time to say something on the matter. Still, I feel compelled to offer them something. “For what it is worth, I am sorry I couldn’t get here sooner.”

  Of everyone here, Second Thorn reacts strongest to the idea that an earlier arrival on my part might have saved lives. “Don’t give me that. You know nothing. Nothing!”

  But even I can see he doesn’t have it in him to fight. All takes is Snapdragon shaking her head for the Second Thorn to direct his emotions elsewhere.

  I am left to count what remains of forty young Lunarians who have only ever been able to rely on one another as siblings. Of the lot, Snapdragon, nine Thorns, and a trio of Howlers are all that remain.

  Between their casualties and fighting Twelve himself, I’ll just have to accept that any plans to lure my older brother out on a hunt cannot rely on the support of Watchers I’m familiar with.

  As thankful as I am for Threnodias informing me that Twelve disappeared from the festivities in such a way that it would make sense I disappear long enough to see to it he stays out of trouble, the presence of Amari’s sister makes me grateful that he did not tag along. As surprisingly useful and forthcoming as the Ninth Prince’s advice has been, I finally feel like I’m precisely where I need to be in order to make a difference.

  It feels wild to me that I'm so willing to disregard a golden dragon of a sibling who might have been everything I wanted to be at one point. But my time here with the Lunarians, as brief as it has been, has demanded I interrogate whether serving Vylia or Lunaria's interests is something I'm willing to tolerate.

  Most of the Thorns look dubious as I set to breaking any remaining bindings the prisoners fled with. The Howlers on the other hand immediately join me in taking knives to ropes and trying to fit keys in manacles.

  Of the Howlers here, the one I recognize most whispers soft encouragements to those who flinch away from attempts to help. “You can trust this Vylian. My sisters and I have witnessed the memory of them being cut in half by the monster we just fled from. I assure you that they mean us no ill will.”

  A feline girl looks dubious. “Why vouch for another one of them?”

  Ninth Howler shrugs. “Simple. I’ve already tried and failed to kill this one. They responded by claiming none of us deserved to die over this.”

  I still feel the javelin breaking in my hands as the injury brought me in harmony with my own sister.

  Behind her, another Howler hobbles on a wooden stump of a replacement leg with clear intent to remain within arms length of Ninth. “It’s not just mercy for the sake of it. Both times Mel’Viora incited to violence against you and yours, you acted with restraint.”

  As much as I try to appear thankful, the memories they are invoking are messy.

  For how long did I remain in the dark in regards to my own nature? Always avoiding injury when a brush with death is the closest I’ve come to embodying the lives of those I’ve taken from others.

  Only Snapdragon is likely to understand how alive I feel the more my body aligns with Lenore and a Quill Tailed Drake.

  But how can I communicate that to those who are lessened by injuries and losses they endure? What is a newfound strength and certainty for me is a loss of the only support they could count on.

  I clench my fists as I resist the idea that I could make them strong and mend their wounds with a few drops of my blood.

  Until now, I’ve deprived myself of feeding enough to not only protect those I care about. But I've denied myself the possibilities that might be opened by sharing enough blood to enable my loved ones to protect themselves. Were I not fearful of the uncertain side effects of what I have inflicted on Astraea, I would offer the injured my blood as freely as Astraea claimed to apply her own healing gifts.

  I turn to address Amari's sister and Snapdragon. “How is Astraea? Did she and your sisters all make it out okay?” Knowing that there were casualties, I’ve been almost afraid to ask after my own.

  Before either can voice a reply, the bone tooth charm seems to tug with an added weight. Grasping it without thinking, I know the thoughts of my vulpine sister Ankhita like they were Lenore’s.

  Now that you are here, all of Amari’s family is safely accounted for. Know that the moment I am finished tending to wounds here, I must compel you to join them in fleeing. Astraea is fine for the moment, but her condition is likely to worsen unless you feed her more of your blood at regular intervals.

  I meet the eyes of not just Amari’s sister, but my own. Another bone tooth charm adorns Ankhita’s finger in the form of a ring.

  All at once, a trio of other voices begin to weigh in my mind like a pile of bed mates loathe to let me untangle myself. Amari’s whole family echoes Ankhita’s concerns, but not before admonishing her for being harsh to the newest member of the pack.

  “Are you okay?” Snapdragon draws me outside of myself. “We answered you, but you reacted as if the answer pulled you elsewhere.”

  I clutch tight at my charm and chest as I attempt to voice and vocalize my thoughts to all in need of hearing what I have to say. “I’m here and I am okay. Just attempting to grasp with how the roles of myself and my Sworn Protector seem to have changed.”

  I spare a faraway thought towards a carriage in the distance as I attempt to communicate a longing to be with my loved ones.

  I am met with the certainty that Theriya is no longer with Amari. Now that my adoptive vulpine family are safe, Theriya has departed to join me in an imminent binding ceremony. One that requires my draconic visage to be present.

  As warm as the thoughts spilling into my mind are to hold, I allow them to slip from my grasp as I release the bone charm. However it works, it appears to take a level of focus I cannot always spare. But when the moment is right, I imagine I’ll feel their call so long as I keep the charm close.

  So many questions come to mind. But most of them will just have to wait.

  There are people in the here and now that I can help advise in ways that already feel nostalgic.

  Immediately, I write off any thought of backtracking to make a second attempt on my brother’s life. If he were pursuing us, he would have caught up to us before now.

  Which means I’m either going to have to herd this group into the ceremony and demand their protection. Or more likely, I’m going to have to convince them to trust a fox who shows them open disdain.

  I find myself squeezing Snapdragon’s hand as I realize I might have to break a promise. When she meets my gaze, I do not shy away from its intensity. Instead I feel the growing weight of possibility begin to form knots within the depths of my stomach.

  “Aelinore?” She raises an eyebrow.

  “Do you think you have it in you to help me convince everyone here to run away with us?” I ask aloud, but not all answers come in the form of words.

  Snapdragon shows an effort of determination in her agreement while the bone charm grows heavy around my neck with a curious promise from Astraea to source everything we might need from some Fevir Sea Trading company.

  A vague hope materializes into an actual plan as I begin to envision a way out for everyone.

  “Alright everyone. I’m afraid I have bad news to share.”

  There are sounds of confusion, more intensely felt by the Thorned Watchers than others. Although an intriguing serpent is happy to add her disapproving hiss to the chorus of reactions to me holding something back for as long as I have.

  “For the Watchers among you, I’m afraid Primeval Seer Fel’Daen has all but confirmed that there will be no replanting for anyone you’ve lost.”

  It quickly turns to disgruntled disbelief at me having the audacity to make such a claim immediately after surviving their predicament.

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  Second Thorn pulls away from Ankhita’s attempts at setting his wrist. “What are you talking about?”

  I meet his eyes, and I fall into Fel’Daen’s own dispassionate cadence. I speak plainly of how their only interest is in me and the Seers, all but spelling out how young and inexperienced fighters are not only undesired, but not worth investing in. By the time I mention the Thrones of Old, my thoughts drift toward the map depicted at the base of the tree spire in the central root chamber.

  Not content to wait and see if my words have the desired effect, I receive a wordless urging from Amari’s sister.

  I stride across the room and press the Second Thorn back down onto the table.

  “You’re a lying depths-spawned wretch!” Second Thorn’s cries are more intense than his attempts at resisting his own restraints. In my ear they come off as little more than a familiar urge to lash out.

  It can’t be easy losing over half your siblings at once.

  But I’ve been there. I’m all that remains of those I hatched alongside. And unless he wants to join me, I’m going to need to make him take charge of the survivors.

  I shake my head, holding him still as he resists tears and an expression of building fury long enough for Ankhita to do her work. “Second. I tell you this as a kindness. No one here cares for the lives in this room more than you.”

  “Don’t you think I know that?” He’s cut off by Snapdragon pressing against my side once more. All at once his fury mounts as he turns to focus it on someone he is used to directing his ire at. “Don’t talk to me. You…” He pauses, deflates, and turns away.

  “I think I’ve got one argument left in me.” Snapdragon says, her voice filled with a calm determination.

  “By all means.” I gesture for her to join Second on the table.

  Ankhita takes the opportunity to double check Snapdragon’s wounds. At least two of her injuries have bled through their bandaging enough to warrant a redress. My pack sister attempts to redress them more firmly this time.

  Snapdragon uses her time to focus. “What is keeping you here? You saw everyone refuse to take in Nineteenth the moment you and First ejected him from the Thorns.” First’s name is enough to make Second pause long enough for her to turn her gaze across the room.

  Nineteen meets her stare most openly with a fragile smile. Most other Thorns avert their gaze.

  “We are only as valuable as they’ll let us be. Your value does not extend beyond the eyes and ears they gave us. And don’t take my word for it. You have eyes to see. When is the last time any of you have seen a Watcher pick up a trade?”

  Nineteen takes Snapdragon’s passion and attempts to light a fire in anyone who will listen.“I kept running into the same assessment no matter where I went. Why spend the time teaching me when they could bleed raw emotions from me that will fuel an already trained crafter? It’s not like my memories are worth anything beyond the raw potency of how we feel everything more intensely than anyone else.”

  Second Thorn speaks like he’s already exhausted of this conversation. “It has never been a matter of whether or not you’re convincing. Where does that leave us? By your own logic, we have nothing to offer anyone. Who would take twentyaltered mouths to feed for nothing in return?” After a sidelong glance at the Howlers, he amends his calculations. “Forty or thirteen, what does it matter when we’re little more than homegrown eyes and ears in Lunarian uniforms?”

  Ankhita crosses her arms, appearing bored. “I would give you a chance. Although I wouldn’t enjoy it.” When she draws the room’s ire, she is happy to redirect their attention to me. “Although I happen to know that a Pirate Captain by the name of Astraea has already promised the young dragon here more than enough wealth to feed ten times your number for a year.”

  I try to maintain a blank expression as everyone else soaks that in. This has to appear like information I know well, and not like all of this just fell into my lap. "It is as she claims."

  Ankhita takes that as an opportunity to keep talking. “It’s not like Astraea isn’t used to finding places for people whose only skill sets are measured in discipline and violence.”

  There it is.

  Ankhita has just casually suggested a future for everyone.

  Now I just need to convince them it is a path walking down.

  One of the Howlers, a familiar face, steps forward. Although the last time I saw her face, I was pulling the Ninth Howler’s javelin out of my heart. “And we’re just supposed to trust you? We don’t even know your name.”

  I can vouch for her. “Her name is Ankhita. Astraea has already gone to great lengths to guarantee her freedom. Bested the Ninth Prince in a duel as I recall.”

  Snapdragon takes my words and directs them very pointedly at her brother. “And instead of fleeing, she came back to help you.”

  The Second Thorn sighs. “I think we’ve wasted enough time seeing to our wounds.” He addresses Snapdragon with a scowl. “She’s right. They’re just gonna kill us if we stay anyway. Howlers, I don’t have the authority to order any of you around, but I’ve refused to listen to this Thorn in my side for as long as I’ve lived. But she’s right and she probably always has been. It's why she's more beloved by the Seed Seers than her own planting. Only don’t call her a Thorn. It is probably best if you all start thinking of names for yourself like Snapdragon here.”

  I almost miss the wordless thank you that passes from Snapdragon's lips.

  But the Ninth Howler approaches me, hand of another howler squeezed firmly in her own. “Why do you care so much? Why do all of this when you could have just promised revenge on the one who cut you in half? All of us and Snapdragon saw that memory. We would have understood immediately.”

  I offer her as gentle of a smile as my draconic maw allows. “And what would revenge cost us? Has Lunaria and Vylia not taken enough from us already?” Just to drive the point home, I take Snapdragon’s hand in mine. “I alone survived the depths of my planting’s proving in the depths beneath Vylia. It was here I met people who helped me understand that our lives can amount to so much more than the purpose or circumstances assigned to us.”

  Ninth growls, but I don't miss how my actions cause her and her companion to exchange looks and squeeze each other's hands just a little tighter. “So are we supposed to just forgive the people who did this to us?”

  A serpentine hiss echoes her discontent.

  “No." I growl. "Never forgive. I'd sooner consign him to memory than let him take more than he already has is all. I will gladly press for revenge if he blocks our way or hunts us down. But I have to believe that each and every one of your lives is more precious if it is spent living freely instead being discarded attempting to kill my brother.”

  "Anything is preferable to letting Lunaria or Vylia dictate the scope of our lives any further." Snapdragon is happy to echo the sentiment, but she’s the not only one.

  Ankhita positions herself at my side opposite Snapdragon. She speaks warmly of accepting me as a member of a family of her choosing that seems to resonate deeply with the most resistant of Watchers. But more than that, she shares dissatisfaction with even the comfiest imprisonment when there is a world outside Vylia and Lunaria that none of us have seen. Her contempt for anyone who reminds her of her imprisonment here melts away as she speaks of a world she is impatient to rejoin.

  And with that, the tide shifts as something like hope urges most here to choose to fight for a life worth living.

  Second takes over in addressing the room. “With Ankhita’s help, I’ll get everyone to wherever your foxes and bodyguard are staging our escape.”

  Ankhita turns to face us. “Aelinore. Snapdragon. I hope the binding ceremony treats you both well. If neither of you make it out, I’ll make sure you are remembered.”

  “If you are remaining, than I ssshall too.” The naga hisses. “Remember well foxkin Ankhita that Phaedra, the lassst of her line, died ssseeking vengeance upon the Twelfth Prince.”

  Hearing such a declaration gives me pause.

  But I’m not the only one with thoughts on the matter.

  Ankhita whispers a low growl into my ear. “I’m afraid your time draws short young dragon. Decide who, if any, you are willing to accept now. You can ill afford the time it will take build anything resembling trust.”

  Snapdragon tugs at my arm. “She’s right. We’re not always going to get to choose our allies or how long the people we care about will remain in our lives.” She gives my fingers a gentle squeeze. “Anyone you let come with us is very likely to die confronting circumstances we can’t control. I’d prefer it very much if you respected what Phaedra wants regardless of the danger. But all I can really I ask is you accept that I’m intending to remain at the side of those I love, no matter how this ends.”

  I sigh, having complicated feelings about what is being asked of me. But they’re right. My absence from the ceremonies is starting to run overlong, especially if Twelve returns without having seen me.

  So I meet Snapdragon’s gaze with a tender one of my own. “You’re right. I’ll make the most of anyone willing to give themselves to our cause.”

  Only then do I turn to the last surviving naga captured by the Crimson Moons, trying very hard not to wish that we could meet under better circumstances. “I can’t promise you revenge like you’ve asked. But if you stick close and play the role they expect to see, I’ll support you if the chance presents itself. He might even be made vulnerable by what is likely to transpire.”

  The naga preens at that. “Isss that ssso?”

  “All I’ll expect of you is keeping Snapdragon here safe until your opportunity arises.”

  “No feeding?” She tilts her head to the side.

  I shake my head. “I only feed on the willing, and I barely know you.”

  “Very well then. In the interessst of time, I ssshall accept your termsss.” Phaedra slithers off to the door I entered from with Snapdragon following close behind her.

  I turn to address the rest of the room. “I really would prefer the rest of you to take your chances with Second Thorn and Ankhita. But I won’t stop you from joining me in attempting to save anyone else we can from getting caught up in a plot to kill most if not all of the Primeval Seers.”

  Ankhita lets out a low warning growl. “On that note, none of you are Lunarians any longer. Best you start thinking of who you want to be outside the lives that have been chosen for you. A name for yourself is a good start.” She turns to give Second Thorn a light shove to direct everyone to the right tunnel. “Each of you are going to help one another. Understood?”

  At that, almost everyone begins to file out as she continues to offer what I’m sure she thinks is motivation.

  But not everyone leaves.

  Ninth turns to face the Howler she’s been holding hands with for the past few minutes. “I can’t hear that and not help.”

  Her partner stops and stares at her for a long moment before sighing. “I won’t ask you to stay.”

  “You could. I’d listen.” Ninth's voice falls to a whisper.

  “No.” A shake of the head. “You wouldn’t forgive me. Just… Pick a name before you go? I don’t want to remember you as a number.”

  Ninth appears a little more sure of herself at that, enough to grin. “You first. You’re better at this. Besides, it’ll give me a chance to pick something to match.”

  Larkspur gives her name before being drawn into a parting embrace by Ninth.

  “Another flower name huh? In that case, I’ll be your Briar.” Briar turns to glare daggers at Snapdragon and I. “We… Owe you both our lives.”

  “You can thank us by living long and happy lives.” Snapdragon urges.

  Briar and Larkspur both shake their heads. The latter answers. “I'll go with them. But if you get Briar killed, I’ll have more than losing a leg to hold against you.”

  Briar snorts. “Yeah, well. Regardless of how this turns out, I’m still not willing to forgive you for maiming my flower.”

  Snapdragon shakes her head, her lips spreading in a humorless smile. “Then don’t! You’re welcome to join us in thwarting Mel’Viora’s schemes all the same.”

  I beckon Briar into joining us. “If you’re not absolutely certain you can save more lives than you’ll risk, I want none of you throwing yours away, understood?”

  Briar, Phaedra, and Snapdragon all express their agreement.

  “How can I help?” Briar asks.

  From across the room, Ankhita bids us farewell with a wave. “You can start by not dying. Amari suspects Watchers will be integral for us surviving a trek through the forest.”

  “You heard the fox.” Second calls from down the tunnel. “Stay alive.”

  At the sound of Second's words, Snapdragon comes to an abrupt stop.

  “I’ll keep them safe.” I call back on her behalf.

  Snapdragon’s whispered thanks makes for a meek assurance. I’ll have to be mindful that she’s not holding up well, despite giving it her all.

  Second replies with what is beginning to be a distant laugh. “You’ll do better than I could.”

  At that, we part ways enough that we would need to shout to be heard. And we’ve said enough that it isn’t worth risking. “Come on you three. I’ve got to see about arranging you all front row seats to my binding ceremony.”

  That, and the end of Lunaria as we know it.

  *checks notes on everything that really only has time to happen right here and now* You know what? I think I going to content myself with giving Aelinore and Snapdragon as much space as they need to decide what to do with the supporting cast whose lives are no less important than anyone else's. I know asking you to care about all the minor characters might feel a little sudden, but I've been dreadfully sick with nothing to do but think about the interior lives and motivations of everyone who exists at the periphery of the main cast's lives. As much time as I've spent building up the main cast, Aelinore has only really known most of them for two days.