Crown of Ash and Light, page 40
Had he already decided we weren't ready to know? Or was it easier to let us believe she might still be out there somewhere?
Had he already mourned her? Had he already moved on?
Or was silence just easier?
The weight of that revelation settled over me like frost. I’d gone to him hoping for wisdom, for comfort, for a fragment of the past to make sense. But all I found now was an empty space where truth should have been. He had kept it from me. Kept her from me.
And then the memory—the one Vega forced on me—had opened me like a wound. I saw my mother stand alone, battered and bleeding, her elementals torn from her side by her own command. I felt her sacrifice. Her love. Her strength. And before that, I saw her as a child in a war-torn town, her sister falling beside her, her life ripped apart before it truly began. I watched her final moments before the dragon carried her away, her light fading into the sky.
My mother had been fighting since she was twelve. And the world had done nothing but betray her for it.
Including me.
Because I hadn’t known. I hadn’t understood. I had let myself forget her voice, her warmth, her lessons whispered in the dark. I had buried her memory to keep myself from breaking.
Now that memory was all that was left. And it was tearing me apart.
A tight sob escaped before I could stop it. I leaned against the cold brick of a wall, pressing a hand to my chest like I could steady the storm inside me. I didn’t want to be strong right now. I didn’t want to be brave or vengeful or fierce.
I just wanted her.
But she was gone. And the dragon—her guardian, her ally, her friend—had let me carry that pain alone.
I didn’t know what that made him anymore.
I wiped my face roughly and forced myself to move again. The night pressed in from all sides. The alleys narrowed. The rooftops above stretched like shadowed wings. Every corner I passed felt like it might be the one where I finally collapsed.
Then I heard it.
Faint at first. A whisper in the dark.
Steel on steel.
I froze, instincts flaring. The sound grew sharper, clearer. My heart stills. I followed it through the maze of backstreets until the alley opened into a ruined square.
There, beneath the fractured moonlight and swirling dust—
Stravos.
My brother moved like the wind itself—sharp, cutting, and impossible to pin down. His cloak whipped behind him as gale-force gusts circled his body, deflecting blow after blow.
And opposite him, like a tower of rage and muscle, stood Kane.
His mace swung in brutal arcs, cratering stone and shattering columns. Every strike he missed sent shockwaves through the earth, and every one Stravos dodged left my throat dry.
They were locked in battle.
My brother. And the man who had helped kill our mother.
I took a single breath. Then another.
And stepped into the square.
I was done running.
But even as I stepped forward, something in me trembled—not from fear, but from everything I hadn’t said. Everything I hadn’t felt. I wanted to scream. To lash out with all the rage within me. To fall to my knees and ask why the world kept taking the people I loved.
Why hadn’t the dragon told me the truth?
Why hadn’t Elias come back?
Why did my mother need to die alone?
The questions twisted in my chest like blades, but I had no answers—only the storm building inside me.
I watched Stravos move, every strike of his blade like a promise. He wasn’t just fighting Kane. He was carrying our mother’s legacy in every breath, every blow. I wondered if he was feeling what I felt. If he had seen her die the way I had. If he knew the way her last look had seared itself into my soul.
And Kane—he looked the same as he had in the memory. Unmoved. Unbothered. His eyes were flat, his movements methodical. He fought like someone finishing a chore, not battling the child of the woman he had helped kill. That only fueled the fire in my chest.
I didn’t know what I was going to do. I didn’t have a plan, or a speech, or some clever trick tucked away. But I knew one thing.
If he touched my brother—if he so much as laid one more hand on my family—I would drown this square in everything I had left.
STRAVOS
Kane towered before me, his enchanted armor gleaming under the flickering torchlight, each movement deliberate and brutal. His strikes came heavy, forcing me to pivot, duck, or deflect with my scythe. Each swing tested the strength of my arms and the sharpness of my reflexes.
The Juggernaut wasn’t like any opponent I’d faced before. He moved with the sheer, unstoppable force of a landslide; every blow meant to crush rather than maim. His massive weapon—a spiked mace that seemed more suited for breaking down castle gates than fighting men—swung toward me with devastating speed.
I sidestepped the attack, feeling the air shift as the mace passed inches from my ribs. The cobblestones cracked beneath its impact, shards of stone flying into the air. I focused, drawing in the currents around me, and with a subtle twist of my fingers, a gust of wind swirled under my feet, pushing me back into a spinning retreat, narrowly avoiding another blow. The wind whispered around me as my scythe arced in a wide slash, the blade glancing off his shoulder plate, sparks dancing as the metal screeched against enchanted steel.
Kane grunted, an almost amused sound, and turned to face me, his armor absorbing my attack like it was nothing more than a mosquito bite. “You’ve got some fight in you,” he said, his voice low and guttural, echoing from behind his helmet. “But it won’t be enough.”
“We’ll see about that,” I shot back, gripping my scythe tighter as I circled him. My breath came in short gasps, sweat dripping down my face, but I couldn’t afford to stop—not for a second. I tapped into the air around me again, pushing a sudden blast under his feet, sending dust and debris swirling toward his face. His eyes squinted against the wind, but he didn’t falter.
Kane lunged, his mace coming down with the force of a thunderclap. I rolled to the side, the cobblestones exploding where I’d stood moments before. Rising to my feet, I summoned a burst of wind to carry me forward, my scythe sweeping low in a quick motion, aiming for the back of his knee. The blade caught the joint in his armor, a satisfying crunch meeting my ears.
Kane stumbled slightly, but instead of falling, he roared with laughter. “You think you can take me down with a scratch?” He straightened, his imposing figure casting a long shadow over me.
His mace swung again, this time in a horizontal arc that I barely ducked under. I felt the rush of air as it passed over my head, and I countered with a quick upward slash, aiming for the vulnerable spot beneath his arm. The blade struck true, biting into the softer leather there, and Kane snarled in pain.
“Lucky shot,” he growled, backing up a step. Blood seeped from the wound, dark and sluggish, but his grip on the mace never faltered. He shifted his stance, his movements slightly slower but no less deliberate.
I pressed the attack, feinting left before spinning to the right, my scythe carving a narrow path toward his side. Kane blocked with his forearm, the metal plate absorbing the blow, but it left him open for a split second. Drawing in a deep breath, I forced all the air around me to swirl in tight, rapid spirals, sending a sharp wind that whistled across the battlefield. I used the wind to propel myself faster than before, driving the butt of my scythe into his abdomen with enough force to knock him back.
Kane’s retaliation was swift. His gauntleted fist lashed out, catching me across the jaw. Pain exploded in my head, my vision going white for a moment as I staggered back. My grip on the scythe faltered, but I held on, using the weapon to steady myself as I blinked the stars from my eyes.
“You’re tougher than you look,” Kane said, his tone almost mocking as he advanced. “But tough doesn’t mean smart.”
He charged, closing the distance between us in a heartbeat. I barely managed to deflect his next strike, the mace glancing off the shaft of my scythe and sending vibrations up my arms. My hands ached, my muscles screaming in protest, but I couldn’t let up. Not now.
With a grunt of effort, I spun the scythe in a wide arc, forcing Kane to step back. The blade nicked his thigh, cutting through the armor’s weak point and drawing more blood. His snarl of pain was satisfying, but it was short-lived. His next swing came faster than I expected, the mace slamming into my side and sending me sprawling to the ground.
The world tilted as I hit the cobblestones, pain radiating through my ribs. I gasped for air, my lungs burning, but there was no time to recover. Kane was on me, his shadow falling over me as he raised the mace for a killing blow.
“Stravos!” a voice called, distant but unmistakable.
I didn’t look. I couldn’t afford to. Summoning every ounce of strength I had left, I focused on the air around us, drawing it in with desperate precision. I released the energy in a blast, sending a shockwave of air rippling outward, forcing Kane back just enough for me to roll aside.
I rose unsteadily to my feet, blood trickling from a cut above my eye. Kane turned to face me, his movements slower now but no less menacing. “You’re running on fumes,” he said, his tone almost pitiful. “Give up.”
I wiped the blood from my face, my grip on the scythe tightening. My heart was racing, but something inside me flared—an instinct, a flicker of power from deep within. I called upon the air around me, summoning a forceful gale that whipped through the square, sending debris scattering and pushing against Kane. The wind kicked up the dust and tore at the edges of his armor, causing his footing to slip. Just enough to give me the opening I needed.
“Not a chance,” I said, my voice steady despite the exhaustion creeping in.
The square felt impossibly small, the clash of steel and the roar of the crowd fading into a dull hum in my ears. Kane loomed before me, his armor dented and bloodied but still as imposing as ever. Each breath I took felt like fire, the pain in my ribs spreading with every movement. My grip on the scythe faltered for a moment, but I adjusted, forcing myself to stand tall. I breathed deeply, willing the air around me to settle, to calm my racing pulse.
Kane grinned a wicked expression that seemed to twist the shadows around him. “Still standing?” he taunted, his voice thick with amusement. “You’ve got more fight in you than I expected. But it ends here.”
I didn’t answer. Words felt pointless now. Instead, I tightened my grip on the scythe and charged, every muscle in my body screaming in protest. Kane moved to meet me, his mace swinging in a wide arc. I ducked, the weapon whistling past my ear, and summoned the wind to swirl beneath my feet, giving me a burst of speed to close the gap. My scythe drove toward his exposed side, the blade sinking into his armor and drawing blood.
Kane grunted, more annoyed than pained, and retaliated with a brutal backhand that caught me across the temple. My head snapped to the side, the world spinning as I stumbled back.
“Sloppy,” Kane growled, advancing. “You’re slowing down.”
I spat blood, the taste metallic and bitter on my tongue. “I’m just getting started,” I lied, the words strained. My vision blurred for a moment, but I blinked it away, focusing on the mountain of a man before me. My hands shook, and the pain in my chest felt unbearable, but I focused on the air around me, drawing it in, feeling its pull as I steadied my breath. The wind shifted in response, a steady, invisible pressure against Kane’s hulking frame.
He swung again, the mace crashing down with enough force to shatter the cobblestones. Although my movements were sluggish, I dodged and I slashed at his knee. The scythe connected, slicing through the leather beneath his armor, and Kane roared in anger.
But I wasn’t fast enough to avoid his next attack. His fist caught me in the chest, the impact sending me sprawling to the ground. The air was knocked from my lungs, and I gasped, struggling to rise.
“You’re done,” Kane said, his voice heavy with finality. He loomed over me, the mace raised high. “Any last words?”
I met his gaze, defiance burning in my chest despite the pain. I forced myself to inhale, gathering the last remnants of my strength. With a ragged breath, I snapped my hand out, channeling the air around me. A gust erupted from my palm, throwing a blast of wind into Kane’s chest, forcing him to stagger back a couple steps. The shockwave knocked his balance, if only for a moment, but it was enough to buy me the space I needed to rise unsteadily to my feet.
“Yeah,” I said, my voice rough. “Go to hell.”
The mace came down.
The pain was blinding, a searing agony that tore through my body. I felt the ground beneath me shift as my strength gave out, the scythe slipping from my fingers. My vision dimmed, the edges of the world blurring into darkness.
And then I heard her.
“Stravos!” Azura’s voice cut through the haze, sharp and desperate. I turned my head, the effort monumental, and saw her running toward me. Her hair, loose and wild, framed a face etched with panic and grief.
She dropped to her knees beside me, her hands trembling as she reached for me. “No, no, no,” she murmured, her voice cracking. “Stravos, stay with me. Please.”
I tried to speak, to tell her it was okay, but the words wouldn’t come. My chest felt heavy, each breath a battle I was losing. Azura’s face swam in and out of focus, tears streaming down her cheeks as she cradled me in her arms.
“Stravos, you can’t—” Her voice broke, a choked sob escaping her lips. She pressed her forehead against mine, her grip tightening as if she could anchor me to this world through sheer will. “You can’t leave me. Please.”
Her sobs turned into a guttural, blood-curdling scream that echoed through the square, raw and filled with agony. It was a sound that seemed to shake the very earth beneath us, a cry of loss that tore through the air like a storm.
I wanted to comfort her, to tell her not to cry, but the darkness was pulling me under, its grip cold and unyielding. With what little energy I had left, I reached out, calling on the air one last time. A small, but powerful breeze swirled around Azura and me, brushing her face gently, a fleeting moment of connection in the chaos. My last thought was of her, of my siblings, of everything we’d fought for.
And then there was nothing.
AZURA
The world seemed to crumble around me, the noise of the square fading into nothing but a dull hum as I clutched Stravos’s lifeless body in my arms. His weight was unbearable, his warmth slipping away with every passing moment. My breath hitched as I stared at his face, now pale and still, and my chest burned with pain so raw I thought it might split me in two.
“Stravos...” I whispered, my voice trembling as my tears fell onto his blood-streaked skin. “You’re supposed to fight back; you’re supposed to—” My words caught in my throat, a sob choking me as the truth sank in. He was gone. My brother, my protector, my everything, was gone.
I pressed my forehead against his, my body shaking with the weight of grief. “I’m so sorry,” I murmured, my voice breaking. “I couldn’t protect you. I couldn’t... save you.”
A sound—a low, grating chuckle—broke through the haze. My head snapped up, and there he was. Kane. The Juggernaut. The monster who took my brother from me. He stood a few feet away, his massive mace resting on the ground, blood dripping from its head. Stravos’s blood. The grief, the pain, the helplessness—it all transformed in an instant, boiling into something darker, hotter. Rage.
Something inside me snapped.
Carefully, I lowered Stravos to the ground, brushing a trembling hand over his hair one last time. “I’ll make him pay,” I promised softly. “For you.”
I rose to my feet, my vision blurring with tears and rage. My hand went to my wrist, where my bracelet lay cool and familiar against my skin. Slowly, deliberately, I unfastened it, letting it fall to the ground. The air around me seemed to shift, growing heavier and colder. The water in the air stirred, drawn to me like a storm gathering strength. My hair blows in front of my face as if my brother was behind me, telling me to push forward.
Kane noticed the change, his smirk faltering for just a moment before he regained his composure. “What’s this?” he mocked, hefting his mace onto his shoulder. “The little sister wants revenge? Go ahead and try, girl.”
“You shouldn’t have done that,” I said, my voice low and trembling with suppressed rage. The water began to swirl faster, forming sharp tendrils that snapped and twisted around me like living things.
Kane laughed, the sound cruel and mocking. “Oh, I should have? And what are you going to do about it, little girl?”
“Kill you,” I spat, the words venomous. And then I attacked.
The water lashed out, striking with the force of a whip. Kane raised his mace to block, but the impact sent him stumbling back, his smirk finally slipping. I didn’t give him a chance to recover. Another tendril shot out, wrapping around his leg and yanking him off balance. He crashed to the ground with a grunt, his armor clanging against the stone.
I advanced, the water coiling around my arms like serpents. Kane pushed himself up, his expression darkening as he swung the mace in a wide arc. I ducked, the weapon narrowly missing my head, and sent a wave crashing into his chest. The force sent him sprawling again, his mace skittering across the ground.
“You’re going to pay for what you did,” I snarled, my voice shaking with anger. The water surged forward, slamming into him like a hammer and pinning him to the ground.
Kane growled, struggling against the water’s grip. “You think this will bring him back?” he spat, his voice filled with disdain. “You’re wasting your time.”
His words only fueled my rage. I tightened the water’s hold, the tendrils pressing against his throat and limbs, making him gasp for air. “I don’t care,” I said coldly. “You deserve this.”
