Rhydian’s relief was underscored by an anxiety he didn’t quite understand. Although Inerys’ reaction to the blood was unexpected, it had stabilized her spirit. In those moments, the how and why of it didn’t matter to him. Her soul had been unified. She was safe. She was finally safe, so where was the sense of elation? The repose?

  His gaze dropped from Sorisanna’s to Inerys’ and for a moment, all he could do was stare. Beyond color, little had changed, yet the simple modification had the source of his unrest rearing its head in unwelcomed revelation. A cool, steely fear spread through him like a frost.

  And the oath he’d once sworn to a dying man tightened around his soul.

  Her eyes had become the perfect incarnation of her predecessor’s– like twin embers plucked fresh from the heart of some long-burning fire. They were wide, not with malice, but panic, he realized. The concern in which they searched his face assured him that aside from color, they were not so alike after all. Not a perfect match, then. The tension in his shoulders lessened, but only just.

  “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” She asked, attempting to sit up so she could inspect the whole of him for herself.

  “No,” he said, masking the quaver in his voice by clearing his throat, “No, I’m fine. Per usual, you’re the one who has us all worried.”

  Ephaxus gave a soft snort of agreement and gently nudged her with his snout. She leaned into him and squeezed her eyes closed against some apparent discomfort. Given her faintishness, Rhydian wouldn’t be surprised if she passed out. He positioned himself accordingly, just in case.

  “By this point, you’d think I’d learn to expect the unexpected. I promise I’m not trying to make a habit of it, but fate always seems to have other plans,” she said.

  Rhydian gave a light chuckle, “There’s no lack of excitement around you, that’s for sure. I fear the Wardeness hasn’t the faintest idea what she’s gotten herself into where you’re concerned.”

  His jest earned him a breathy laugh and a half-hearted swat upon the chest, “I imagine I’ll be just as much trouble.”

  “If not more,” Ayduin said from over Rhydian’s shoulder.

  He shook his head, “Are you all right?”

  “More or less,” she said, pressing a hand to her chest, “but I think my shackles are gone.”

  She bit her lip as she looked to Sorisanna for confirmation. The sage nodded, though Vesryn appeared as though he’d seen a ghost. He began to back away, face draining of any and all color before he pivoted and fled. Rhydian exchanged looks with his second and fourthrider, then subtly inclined his head for the two to go after the man. He was going to find out what that was about later, but right now, he didn’t need any further complications.

  “Rhydian?” Inerys asked quietly as she stared after them, “What’s wrong with my eyes?”

  He sighed, for following through on his promise to do better meant giving her the honest truth.

  “They’re like hers, now,” he said.

  For a spell, she was silent, but then a sad sort of smile found her lips, “And here I was, hoping for an end to all the changes. I scarcely recognize myself anymore.”

  “An end to change is an end to growth,” Rhydian said thoughtfully, his touch gentle as he angled her chin to face him, “You may not be able to change what you’ve become, but you can choose who you will be in spite of it.”

  “Even if what I’ve become is a monster?” She asked.

  “Please, you’re the furthest thing from. You may share the same fangs– skies, even the same eye color, but the two of you are nothing alike. Not where it counts.”

  “I’m beginning to think you may be biased,” she said.

  “Maybe, but you’re a far cry from the frightened girl I met back at Mistwatch. Most people in your position would have given up and accepted their fate. But you? You found the courage to face what had happened and the determination to overcome what should have been a death sentence. To say nothing of the life you helped save along the way, nor the wyvern you bonded. You’re stronger than you realize, Inerys, and I think it’s time you start giving yourself a little more credit.”

  Her lips parted as she listened, yet words seemed to fail her.

  “When you say it like that, it–” she paused, resolve finding her eye, “I’ll try. I can promise that much.”

  “That’s all I ask.”

  “Mm, and if my ego ever grows out of control, I'll know who to blame.”

  His lips quirked to one side, “In that case, I'll be sure to prune it as needed.”

  “I wouldn’t expect any less,” she chuckled, but quickly sobered, “It’s true, then? The shackles are gone?”

  “My connection to them no longer exists,” Sorisanna said, coming to crouch beside them as Ephaxus withdrew his snout for her, “Which tells me they’ve likely been consumed by your core. What exactly happened in there?”

  “I’m not entirely sure. Everything happened so fast,” Inerys said and the sage tilted her head to listen as she shared what details she remembered.

  The apparent gaps in her memory were understandable, given what had transpired, yet Rhydian could not shake the sense she wasn’t being entirely truthful. A thread of anxiety, of fear, trickled between them when she spoke and a shiver graced his spine. He’d been able to sense her emotions before, but they had always been dull and distant– more subtle suggestions than full experiences. Now, he could nearly discern them as keenly as Tanuzet’s.

  Which should have been impossible. His empathic abilities were one thing, but this was something else entirely. It was almost as if he had bonded her. He wondered, for a moment, if that had been the reason he’d felt the tug along his soul, but no. It was his oath to Thylas.

  It was still intact.

  What had awakened it? Why was he still beholden to it? Rhydian should have been released from the oath the moment the woman had died, yet he recalled sensing it long after he had returned to Mistwatch. He had questioned why it had lingered then, but in the ensuing chaos, he’d forgotten about it entirely. Until today.

  His lips thinned as he recalled Thylas’ words, “Whatever happens, promise me you’ll find her. Kill her. Whatever the cost.”

  “On my honor and my soul, I swear it,” he had said.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  It had been a simple oath, but a binding one. Kill the woman. Nothing more. Rhydian had fulfilled the duty he’d been charged with, so why was he still tied to the man’s will? What was he missing?

  Inerys’ sudden jolt in his arms snapped him back to the present and he flinched.

  “Spirits, it’s like a raw nerve,” she said.

  “I told you your awareness would be sensitive,” Sorisanna chided.

  “I still can’t believe this is what it feels like. It’s like my sense for the deepwoods, but magnified tenfold.”

  “The hypersensitivity should ease as you grow more accustomed to your spiritual sense,” the sage hummed, “and as you gain control over it. I can walk you through the basics later. Right now, I’m more curious about the reason behind your spontaneous stabilization. It’s like the blood was some sort of catalyst.”

  Inerys offered her arm for inspection at the sage’s beckoning, “You’re guess is as good as mine.”

  To Rhydian’s relief, the golden scars of her prior fracturing bore no signs of any additional stress. If anything, they appeared thinner than they had earlier in the night. The lacy pattern remained present, but far less noticeable. Sorisanna traced the threads with a nimble finger, the faint afterglow of her rysk trailing in its wake.

  “No new fractures, ruptures or damage of any kind, really,” Sorisanna said distractedly, eyes aglow with aureate light, “The aura stone is still there, but it almost seems to have fused itself to the inside of your core. If that’s the case, we shouldn’t have to worry about it migrating elsewhere and causing any additional problems. I’d like to keep an eye on it to make sure it stays that way, but aside from that, you’re perfectly stable.”

  Rhydian’s own relief was nothing compared to Inerys’. The slow, excited smile that broke across her face was nothing short of euphoric. Her fiery eyes burned bright, dancing from Sorisanna, to him in utter delight. The sight stole his breath, fangs and all.

  “No more fear of dying, then? I’m healthy?”

  “As healthy as I imagine a vampire can be,” Sorisanna said.

  Inerys laughed in disbelief, her hands pressed to her chest, “I can’t believe it.”

  “Is there anything you can tell us about your affinity?” Rhydian wondered.

  Sorisanna smirked, but patiently waited for Inerys to share the news for herself. She hooked a fang over her lower lip in deliberation, cheeks adopting the faintest hint of color as he fully released her and scooted himself back to give her more space. Their closeness was a touch too intimate, he thought, now that he knew she was strong and steady.

  “It’s a bit more than an affinity, I think,” she said.

  He raised an eyebrow, then shot the sage a questioning look. Had she already adopted a domain? Sorisanna only winked, so he sighed and resolved to wait for further explanation.

  With a small nod of encouragement from her, Inerys blew out a shallow breath and closed her eyes. Her hands remained at her chest, though rather than clutch one another, she laid her palms flat and crossed them over her heart. Visibly, nothing happened at first, but Rhydian felt her rysk stir. Her rysk, not her essence. Skies, after all this time, it was hard to believe.

  Light pulsed from within her chest in time with her heartbeat. Once. Twice. Though he initially questioned whether or not he’d imagined it, its golden aura lingered along his spiritual sense like the warmth of the morning sun. He grinned in realization, unable to help himself.

  The flare of vital essence he’d sensed when he pulled Inerys from his annex hadn’t been Sorisanna’s, but hers. It was strong in its manifestation, not watery and thin like most newborn rysk. Was the saturation a result of all the essence she’d consumed over these past few months or was something else responsible for the development of her domain? Was it possible that, like her eyes and body, it had been something she’d inherited? Possessing such potent energy was not unheard of at her ascension, but it was exceedingly rare.

  Tanuzet began to purr as she settled in behind him, I am pleased to see we have another prospective sage in our midst.

  “Perhaps even another fleshweaver?” Sorisanna said.

  “Skies help me, you’re frightening enough as it is,” he chuckled.

  “So much for not scaring you anymore,” Inerys crooned.

  He gave her a furtive smile, “You have your moments.”

  Her attention drifted to his lips before she promptly looked to her hands instead.

  “I have more training in my future, don’t I?”

  “When we reach Cyllicia, perhaps,” he said, “until then, it would be wise to take the next few days to rest and recover from our time here. The flight from Mistwatch to the capital was usually around twenty-eight hours or so in total. With minimal stops it would take us around a day and a half, but seeing as how we’ll be restricted to non-daylight hours, I’d say we’re looking at closer to three.”

  Inerys’ brow rose, “Three days? How far are we flying?”

  “Five hundred leagues, give or take?”

  She openly gawked.

  “There’s really that much open land?”

  Rhydian curbed his amusement, for he had to remind himself she had experienced little beyond the veil. There was a decent chance that most everything they encountered from here on out would be entirely new to her. Through no fault of her own, either. It was simply the reality of the environment she’d been confined to.

  “The world is a big place,” he said.

  “Clearly,” she muttered, “And I thought the sixty-six from Aerodran to the westernmost city-state were impressive.”

  “Back at Mistwatch, we used to patrol double that over the course of a few hours,” Rhydian said as he rose and brushed the stray grass from his trousers.

  “Really?” She asked, taking the hand he offered.

  He nodded, “With an outpost as remote as ours, we had a lot of ground to cover. We flew in shifts, of course, but it was demanding work. Moreso for the wyverns, but remaining in the saddle for so long required its own form of endurance.”

  “I can’t say I’ll have the same tolerance, but I’ll do my best,” she said.

  “Fortunately for you, you’ll be allowed to sleep in order to help pass the time. No need to keep alert at all times like you would on patrol.”

  “And miss the sightseeing? No, thank you. I’d rather see what I’ve missed all my life.”

  “Fair enough. We’ll pass a few more notable places along the way. I can point them out to you, if you like?”

  “Please.”

  He grinned, “Very well.”

  “Will we be passing any towns or cities?” She wondered, scratching along Ephaxus’ orbital ridge.

  The wyvern purred and squinted his eyes like the overgrown kitten he was.

  “Depending on what route we take. A direct path takes us through a half dozen population centers. The most notable city would be Kresia. It’s around the halfway mark, so if we wanted to, we could easily make a stop. There’s a Talhavar base in the city as well. I wouldn’t mind sleeping in a proper bed, but we can camp just as easily, if you prefer.”

  “I wouldn’t mind seeing a city,” she admitted.

  He tilted his head, considering.

  “If we stopped there, we could also see to getting you your own provisions.”

  She looked down at herself, “I wouldn’t say no to clothes that aren’t Ayduin’s, but I’m afraid I don’t have the coin.”

  “We can cover whatever it is you need,” he assured.

  Inerys pursed her lips in what might have been displeasure, “Only if it means I can repay the favor once I have the means. Handouts have never sat right with me.”

  “I wouldn’t say it’s a handout,” he said, unsure of what she meant.

  “You’re taking on what should be my responsibility.”

  He arched a brow, “I’m offering to help a friend, not taking pity on a stranger, Inerys. As far as I’m concerned, your responsibility was to focus on your recovery and you’ve done that.”

  Ephaxus must have chimed in, for her eyes glazed over and grew distant. Rhydian couldn’t help the twinge of jealousy he felt over her ability to communicate telepathically. He would be able to in time, of course, but such was rare for both adai and nar’adai of his current advancement level. Tactically, she had an advantage and one most Talhavar did not achieve until their sixth or seventh ascension. He wondered if all vampires shared such advanced mental cores.

  Inerys sighed and rubbed at her face, “Fine. I guess I can’t argue given my . . . predicament. But nothing extravagant. All I need are the essentials.”

  “Only the essentials,” he promised.

  Though they would be quality ones, if he had anything to say about it. She eyed him as if he might argue, but quickly relented when her stomach made its presence known with a disgruntled rumble. She muttered a curse under her breath as she pressed a hand to it.

  “Come,” he said, moving toward the fire, “I’d say breakfast is long overdue, wouldn’t you?”