Chapter 194: Ashes of Oaths
The scent of war had always carried with it a strange blend of iron and fire, earth and unspoken promises. Now it coated every breath inside the ruined hall like a prophecy come true.
Vincent moved first, his steps echoing hollowly as he adjusted the black leather guard along his wrist. He looked over at Alaine, who was strapping on her twin blades with ritual-like calm. Leo was already armed, quiet, his expression unreadable, eyes somewhere between now and the memory of battlefields long gone.
Brienne hadn’t spoken since the last scout departed. Her hand hovered near her blade, but her eyes were fixed on Isla, something burning behind them, devotion, perhaps, or fear.
But Vincent saw more.
He saw the steel of a warrior who had not yet forgiven him and the ember of a bond that still pulsed in the shadows between them which was unclaimed and unhealed. She was his mate, fated by blood and soul, and yet she'd kept him at a distance, and rightly so. There were nights he couldn’t sleep remembering the look in her eyes when he betrayed her trust, when he served the very force that hunted them and still, even now, when the scent of ash clung to everything and war whispered through stone, he would have crossed flames just to earn a single moment of her mercy. She was the ache in his chest and the edge of his blade and gods help him, he would kill or die a thousand times for the chance to make things right.
Isla felt the weight of them all and steadied herself.
They were fractured, yes, but there was something unshakable in them now. There was a shared purpose of vengeance braided with hope.
“We ride at dusk,” Vincent said, voice sharp. “We won’t have another window before the veil fragments.”
Damian nodded, but his gaze hadn’t left the blackened horizon outside. The light flickered unnaturally, twilight bleeding into darkness where Maedor’s fortress had once loomed like a watchful god.
“There’s more,” said Isla suddenly. “Aryia didn’t just tell them about Ashborne… She mentioned something else.”
Lucia looked up.
Isla continued slowly. “She said Maedor was not only aiding Marcus but concealing something beneath the fortress. Something the Elders buried centuries ago.”
Vincent’s brow furrowed. “The vault beneath the western wing?”
“She called it the Cradle,” Isla said, eyes locking with Damian’s. “Something to do with Valkan.”
That name sent a ripple through the group. Damian’s posture snapped rigid, his jaw clenched so hard Isla thought she heard his teeth grind.
“Valkan?” Alaine breathed. “The Elder who created the Sombrosi siphoning bloodlines? I thought he vanished after the Veyran rebellion.”
“He didn’t vanish,” Damian muttered. “He was imprisoned. At Maedor’s request. It was the only way Maedor could stay within the Elders’ circle and still buy time for his own purposes.”
“And now,” Lucia said softly, “they’ve released him.”
A cold stillness settled in the air.
Brienne finally spoke, voice low and hard. “So that’s what the attack was about. Not just vengeance and annihilation. They wanted Valkan back.”
“Yup, and they got him,” Leo growled. “Mighty Gods help us.”
“The “Mighty Gods” won’t help us,” Vincent said. “Only we will.”
For a long moment, no one moved. The names spoken had called ancient forces back into the light. Bloodlines once thought broken, alliances turned to salt. Everything Aryia had feared… was now coming undone.
Then came the bell. A sharp clang from the east tower. Once. Twice.
A signal.
Vincent was already moving. “They’re sighting smoke from the far hills. We have hours, not days.”
“We split into three units,” Damian commanded. “Vincent leads the vanguard, Leo and Alaine with him. Brienne, Lucia, and I take the riders through the western edge. Isla…”
“I’ll go with you,” she said.
He opened his mouth to protest once again, but her eyes stopped him. She was already pulling her blade from the sheath strapped to her thigh. The Sombrosi fire in her veins sparked like the storm she'd been trying to contain for days.
He relented with a slight nod. “Fine. But you stay with me.”
Brienne raised a brow. “And the third unit?”
Damian hesitated. “We leave them behind.”
“What?” Leo snapped. “Why?”
“We need someone to hold Ashborne,” Damian said. “If we fail, and they break the seal… this entire continent will fall within days.”
“And who do we leave?” Vincent asked.
Lucia stepped forward, her hand glowing with a dull, red-gold magic that made Isla’s skin prickle.
“I’ll stay.”
“No,” Damian said instantly.
“You need someone who can sense when the Veil begins to give,” she countered. “Someone who knows how to contain the bloodlines. I’ve walked that edge before. None of you have.”
“She’s right,” Isla murmured.
“I will stay with her”, Rohen appeared from within the shadows. Lucia looked at him fondly.
Lucia turned to Brienne. “You’ll protect Cassian if anything happens?”
Brienne blinked. Then nodded, fiercely. The rest were surprised at Lucia’s request, not understanding why she had demanded such an action from Brienne. But they let it go, since the moment required it.
Damian’s eyes found the horizon again. The fire in the skies had turned a violent shade of orange.
He clenched his fists. “Then ride light. Ride fast. No unnecessary kills. We find the Cradle. We find Valkan.”
“And if he’s already been freed?” Isla asked, her voice steady despite the chill in her chest.
Damian looked at her, something ancient moving in his eyes.
“Then we bury him again, this time beneath more than stone.”
As they turned to leave, Isla paused, she needed to say goodbye to her daughter and parents. She couldn’t barr leaving without doing so first. But there was no time. The silence in the hall was different now. Heavy but purposeful. She prolonged her pause and sent her thoughts and love to her beloved.
Vincent looked over his shoulder at her before stepping through the threshold.
“She may have doomed them… but she saved him. We should all be so brave.”
Lucia stood in the center of the ruin, her hair catching in the breeze like wings. The wind lifted soot and sorrow around her, but her eyes didn’t stray from the horizon.
“Go,” she said softly. “Before the sky burns a third time.”
Isla turned. She didn’t need to look back.
They were out of time and war had always demanded payment in full.