The fire started and spread quickly.
Before Nolan could react, the entire Rusted Lantern was ablaze. His first instinct was to move. He grabbed Adric's arm and pulled. The commander was heavier than he expected. Instead, Adric swiftly lifted him and carried him. The commander stumbled; they lunged toward the door.
Behind them, the bar exploded as the bottles of spirits ignited. A wave of heat slammed into Nolan's back, and he felt his cloak catch fire.
He dropped, rolled, and felt the flames die against the damp floorboards. But it wasn't quick enough. His hands shook. Not from fear. From something else. The heat had seared his right arm and the side of his face. He hadn't noticed until now.
It hurts so much.
The horses were already spooked, rearing and pulling at their tethers. One of the soldiers managed to calm them. The Rusted Lantern collapsed inward with a final groan of timber and glass.
Nolan climbed onto his horse. He looked down at his hands. Blistered. Dark red.
Adric rode beside him. "You're burned."
"I know."
"We need to get you back. Now."
Nolan didn't argue.
The ride back to the castle took two hours.
By the time they reached the gates, Nolan could barely stay in the saddle. His arm had swollen inside his sleeve. His face throbbed with every beat of his heart.
Why does it hurt so much? I've been hurt before. This is different.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
"Call someone from the Silent Chime now," the commander ordered his soldiers as he lifted Nolan and carried him inside.
Nolan's back pressed into the mattress. It didn't get burned, but his arm hung over the edge with the blisters already beginning to weep. He could not feel his face. Only the throb, deep and wet, like something aching with agony.
Adric stood by the door. He had not spoken since they carried Nolan inside.
Nolan's eyes burned. He blinked hard. He would not cry in front of a soldier.
"You should sit."
"No need to worry about me."
A woman in gray robes hurried in, a leather satchel swinging from her shoulder. Her hair was the color of ash, pulled back in a severe knot. She crossed the room in three strides and placed her hands on Nolan's chest.
"Are you a healer?"
"Yes. I'm the one who keeps idiots alive."
She pulled back his sleeve. The burned skin had already begun to peel at the edges, raw and weeping. She touched the edge of the wound with two fingers, and Nolan hissed through his teeth.
"Third-degree burns. Muscle tissue is exposed in two places. Nerve damage likely." She shook her head. "I'm a lower-level healer. I can manage bleeding. Broken bones. Shallow wounds. This requires someone who holds Healing at the third star or higher."
"Wound Closure," she murmured.
A thin, translucent film formed over the raw flesh.
Nolan's breathing slowed. The pain did not vanish, but it receded.
"This is temporary. But the burns will reopen within a day if a higher Awakener doesn't tend to them. You need someone who can perform at least Vitality Transfusion. I can't regrow what's been burned away."
"Where can we find such a healer?"
"I was near the castle, but the Order of the Silent Chime is in the eastern monastery, that's a three-day ride." She looked at Nolan. "He doesn't have three days. The risk of infection setting into the wounds is high."
Nolan stared at the ceiling. "So I wait."
"You wait," she agreed. "And hope."
The door creaked.
Nora stood in the doorway, her face pale, her hands pressed over her mouth. She crossed the room and threw her arms around him carefully.
"What happened to him?"
"What happened—"
Nolan could not find the words to convince her.
Nora pulled back, her face wet. "Why are these things happening? Why am I being useless? Father is wounded, and you are burned. I am just standing here crying. I can't do anything."
"That's not true."
"It is true! Watching both of you die, leaving me behind! Just being useless!"
Nolan raised his unburned hand and placed it on her head. "You are supposed to stay happier. That's enough."
She shook her head against his shoulder.
The door opened again.
The healer woman straightened. "How did you come so quickly? The monastery is three days away."
"I'm just having a meeting near here."
Nolan raised his head to see who it was. His grandfather entered with a calm face. He placed his hands on Nolan's chest.
"Vitality Transfusion."
His burnt skin knitted. The rawness faded. The blisters dried and flaked away.
"It is done."
Nolan looked at his arm, his face—completely healed. Unharmed.
His grandfather had a look of relief on his face. "You should be dead."
Nolan blinked. "What?"
"It was not something a child should endure." Then he noticed his eyes. "Are you awakened?"
Nolan said nothing.
His grandfather leaned closer, studying his irises. "Two gray stars."
Two!
He had not known. The gray star in his eye had multiplied.
"What are these stars? I didn't do anything to multiply them."
His grandfather was quiet for a moment. Then, "Stars do not wait for permission. They do not wait for understanding. They appear when the vessel is ready to carry them. Or when the vessel has no choice but to carry them."
"What!"
"You found your constellation?"
"No, but I was training under Hinata regarding that."
"I am not sure whether you need to risk it now. Of course, I am not saying Ms. Hinata is useless. Still, better go to Eidengrad. It might have an answer about your stars."
What! Again? Need to return there?
"Eidengrad National Academy. The records there are older than anything in Alanoria. If anyone has information about gray stars, about your constellation, it will be there."
"But the war—"
"You're a kid. Better go and learn. Don't worry about it. The king is not a weak person."
Hearing those words, Nolan decided to get ready for the return trip to Eidengrad.
Well, better to say nothing to Hinata regarding this.
He could already imagine her reaction. The slow, terrifying smile. He did not have time for any of it.
I need to hide this from her.
Nora had finally stopped crying. She sat on the edge of his bed, her hands folded in her lap, her eyes fixed on the floor.
"Nora."
She looked up.
"I have to go away again."
"No."
"I have to."
"You just came back. Father is still healing. The war—"
"That's why I have to go."
"You are always saying something. You always have a reason. And I always stay behind and wait."
"At least promise me you'll come back soon this time."
"Yeah, sure."
Liar. You don't know if you can keep that promise.
"If you die, I'll never forgive you."
He did not know. That was the problem. He knew nothing about what was going to come.
Eidengrad. I will leave at first light. Before anyone can stop me. Before I can talk myself out of it.
Athena District. I'm coming back, I guess.
.
.
.
Darkness.
Not the simple absence of Azhura. Not the quiet dark of a shuttered room. This was a void.
Where am I?
This is not the forest.
This is not the Iron Hold.
This is not anywhere I have ever been.
A shape moved in the periphery of Aster's vision.
He tried to turn. His muscles locked. His bones refused to shift. But something inside him, some primal instinct buried beneath fear, wrenched his awareness sideways. The shape swam into focus.
The figure had no face. Only hollows where features should have been. Wrapped in darkness—like it was darker than the surrounding void, which highlighted it. Aster realized that he could not tell if the darkness was swallowing the figure or if the figure was swallowing the darkness.
In the blink of an eye, it did not move. But it was closer than before.
"Finally, hello there."