Break the Day (Nightstar Book 1)

Ainreth woke up with a headache, groaning low. He didn’t think he had drunk that much last night, but apparently, it had been enough to get him a hangover, anyway. Great, that should make his speech today even better. At least it was going to be in the evening, though, at the celebration. He would hold off on drinking until then, and he’d get hammered afterward, as was tradition. Though maybe he’d take it easy on that, too, with Fenn around.

Fenn…. Ainreth could have sworn they’d had some kind of deeply embarrassing conversation last night. He was sure the shadowforger had brought him home, but after that, it was all a blur. Ainreth could vaguely remember cuddling, but surely that hadn’t happened. That had been a fantasy conjured up by his liquored-up brain. Fenn wasn’t in the bed next to him now, so of course that hadn’t happened.

Ainreth ran a hand over his face, sighing. Oh, how he wished it had, though.

Pulling himself up to sit, he pushed his hair back and off his face, yawning, desperately trying to ignore the pounding in his temples. He needed some water. That would help.

Noticing that the wound-up clock on his bedside table showed that it was over ten in the morning, he sighed again. He had slept for far too long, more than usual, actually. Even when drinking, he usually woke up with the sunrise. He liked to think that it was just how a lightweaver worked, seeing as he also got sleepy quite early after sunset. This was going to be disorienting, which was about the last thing he needed today, but there was nothing to be done about it.

Putting on his boots and heading downstairs, Ainreth was pleasantly surprised by the sight of Fennrin reading something at the table, his eyes so focused on the book that he didn’t even notice Ainreth until he was at the bottom of the stairs.

When they locked eyes, Fennrin immediately ducked his gaze, Ainreth grimacing. So something had been said last night. Ain wished he remembered what, though. He hoped he hadn’t said something too embarrassing, like vomiting out all his thoughts about how much he wanted to hold Fenn’s hand, and how much he longed to kiss him, and how—

“Morning,” Ain greeted him, which Fennrin returned, looking back at the book. But his eyes weren’t moving, so he was clearly just desperate to have something other than Ain to look at. Not a good sign. Maybe he should just directly ask and get this awkwardness over with? “Um, did something happen last night? I’m kind of blanking.”

Fenn’s shoulders relaxed slightly. For some reason. Okay, that was odd. “No, everything is fine. You just got drunk. And, um, told me about…your friend. What happened to her.”

Oh. Right. Ain scratched the back of his neck as some clarity returned to his memory. Yes, he did remember now. Fenn had had some words of wisdom that truly ran true the more he thought about them. Ainreth still felt a little off about that because he no doubt had worded that in a stupid way. He tended to babble when he was drunk and get too emotional. But oh well, what was done was done.

“Um, thank you for listening.”

Fenn nodded, his nose once again buried in the book. Ainreth was sensing some tension there, still, but he didn’t think it was wise to press further. Maybe it was best to be forgotten. He doubted he’d said anything hurtful to Fennrin, otherwise the man wouldn’t be sitting here, reading. At least Ain hoped. But he wouldn’t believe that he’d hurt Fenn, no matter what.

His eyes came across a white box on the kitchen table then, the memory of Fenn buying the meat cubes rushing back to him.

Excited to eat them for breakfast, even though it was a rather heavy meal that would likely not agree with his empty stomach too much, Ain grabbed the box, walking over to the table Fenn was sitting at and sitting down.

“What are you reading?” asked Ainreth as he opened the box, looking down at the delicious meal as he shone intense light on it, warming the meat up. It was never quite as good the next day, but it was delicious anyway.

“I found another book on shadowforger powers,” Fennrin explained, putting the book down. There was an illustration of a shadowforger, clad in a cloak with a hood over their head, their arm raised. And in front of them, a rock was levitating, its shadow black beneath it.

“Anything new?”

Fenn shook his head, sighing. “No, I’m afraid not.”

Ainreth shrugged, shoving a few pieces of meat into his mouth, chewing happily. “You’re plenty powerful as is. And I’ve heard from a certain someone you’re getting better at sword fighting.”

Fennrin’s cheeks darkened just a little, bringing a grin to Ain’s face. It was so cute when he got flustered. Ain’s smile waved a little, then, his heart giving a lurch. Maybe he should just tell Fenn how he feels, though even considering that idea made him feel panicked. Maybe not.

“I am quite bad at it.”

Ain chuckled, reaching over the table and patting Fenn’s shoulder. “Who needs swords? You can kill anyone from a distance. And become invulnerable and undetectable! That’s much better.”

Fenn sighed, shutting the book. “Today is Dragonrise.”

Ain flinched. Yes. Yes, it was. And he didn’t want to think about it. But there would be no avoiding it. Varilik would make sure he regretted it if he skipped out on his speech, or even being present for the feast and the celebration, in general.

There was no Dragonrise without the Daybreaker. No matter how much the Daybreaker wanted no part in it.

“Has our esteemed Herald properly invited you to the feast yet?” Ain asked, unable to keep the sarcasm out of his voice, prompting Fenn to frown at him, his eyes narrowed.

“Why do you not like him?”

This question again. Ainreth wanted to explain to Fenn how much of an asshole Varilik was, but he didn’t want to rock the boat too much, not for himself and not for Fenn. It was good that the Herald was supportive of Fenn, but Ain was sure Varilik was supportive only because of how powerful Fenn was, how much of a military advantage he could be, which honestly wasn’t that bad of a thing because Ain certainly didn’t want the man to have any other interest in the shadowforger.

But he didn’t want to do anything to risk that support. Still, his dislike for the man was mostly personal.

“He…made me be a general.” Fenn raised an eyebrow as if to ask why that was a problem. Ain wanted to sigh. Yeah, when he put it like that, it didn’t sound too bad, did it? “I didn’t want to be one. But Lys-Akkaria needed me as a symbol, he said. And the other soldiers needed me to lead them.”

Fennrin nodded, a small grimace on his lovely face now. Ainreth took a deep breath, preparing himself for the rest of that story. “And well, he blackmailed me into accepting.”

“Blackmailed how?” Fenn was now frowning even harder, looking a little angry, even. Ain felt his heart swell at that.

“He told me he could press charges against me for, um, what I did to Zenri.”

Ain looked down at the table. He felt lighter now that he’d told that to Fenn. He’d never told this to anyone, not his parents, not even Petre, though Ain suspected they had put it together on their own to some extent anyway. Petre was smart.

“I’m…sorry.”

Ain smiled, looking back to Fenn who was now glumly staring back. “It’s okay. But yeah, that’s why I don’t like him.”

Adding that hadn’t been terribly necessary, but Ain hadn’t known what to say, and staying silent would have been awkward.

“Don’t talk to him about this,” Ainreth said, suddenly realizing that he should point that out. “It happened a decade ago. There’s no reason to reopen this whole thing again.”

Fenn nodded, a frown still creasing his forehead. Ain didn’t like seeing that. He preferred it so much more when he smiled, even though that was incredibly rare. The moments he’d seen him smile were precious and beautiful. Ain hoped to see it more often.

“The Herald just seems so reasonable. It’s hard to believe he’d do this.”

Ain shrugged, not sure what to say. It had happened, and there was no denying it. The only reason he was a general was blackmail, and while he had grown used to the position, that changed nothing about the reasons he’d gotten it. He hadn’t wanted to be a general. He’d never wanted to be the one in charge, even though he did enjoy the attention he’d gotten from it, he’d admit to that much.

“Politicians aren’t to be trusted.”

Fenn nodded again, this time without much hesitance. It seemed that even someone who had presumably not worried much about politics at all until now knew as much. Though Ain couldn’t pretend like knowing this made him immune.

He was quite fond of the Bulwark, even though he fought with her quite a lot, and disagreed with her on many things. No matter what he had a fondness for her, probably a lot due to knowing her since he was a child, and he was quite pleased to see Fenn getting along with her also. Ain certainly didn’t mind him spending time with that particular Courtier. But only that one. The Patron was a tolerable woman, but the Arbiter was insufferable.

There was a knock on the door, prompting both of them to look at it. Sighing, Ain got up. Today would be hectic, like it always was.

As he swung the door open, he was met with none other than Petre, looking a little irritated, with their friend Enlin right next to them. Ain frowned, noting that even the usually always cheerful Enlin looked worried, her short brown hair falling in her eyes as she breathed hard.

“What’s wrong?”

“You’re supposed to give your speech in half an hour,” said Petre said, huffing and shaking their head.

Ainreth blinked at both of them, not understanding what was happening. “It’s ten.”

“It’s half past eleven,” Petre corrected him, pulling their fob watch from their pocket and shoving it in Ain’s face. Sunder, they were right. He must have forgotten to wind up his clock yesterday.

Great start to the day.

Petre was scowling up at Ain. “Come on, get changed, we need to go as soon as possible.”

They were so bossy sometimes. But they were right. Getting to the square where he was going to give the speech would take a while on foot. It would have been much easier if he had thought to bring Sunray here yesterday, but he’d been too busy feeling sorry for himself to think of that.

Doing his best to move as quickly as possible, despite still being a little shocked by the fact that it was much later than he’d thought it was. Quickly throwing his uniform robes over himself and adjusting his white cloak, Ain took a quick look in the tall mirror in the corner, brushing his hair back, he decided he looked presentable enough to go. He was supposed to be wearing his armor as well under the robes, as well as different trousers, but no one would be able to tell. Everyone always focused on his lightweaver cloak, anyway.

Running down the stairs, he saw Fenn talking with Petre and Enlin.

“Come along,” Enlin told Fenn with a grin. “The general always has a great speech prepared.”

Next to her, Petre sighed, shaking their head. Ain couldn’t help but grin.

“Call me Ainreth, all right?” Enlin stared at him with her big eyes wide for a moment before readily nodding, grinning again. “And I never prepare any of my speeches.”

Now she was gaping at him. Out of the corner of his eye, Ainreth could see Fenn staring at him with a raised eyebrow. “W-what? But they’re always so inspiring.”

Ain shrugged, flashing her a wider grin. “What can I say? I’m good at improvising.”

As they left, walking at a brisk pace, Ain couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy. If Dragonrise weren’t a reminder of what he’d done to his friend, he wouldn’t mind giving these speeches. He liked the attention, and if people ended up feeling better from it, who was he to ruin it for them?

But if Fennrin was going with them, Ain was a bit worried what he might think, especially because Ain was planning on telling the crowd about him. How could he not? He had seen the looks Fenn had gotten from the people who knew what he was, and he hated every bit of it. How dare they judge and fear him? He’d done nothing but help. He’d saved Ain once already.

Hm. He should make sure to mention that, even though he’d make sure to embellish that a little. Mentioning that Orinovan soldiers had caught him spying on them behind the border was very unlikely to make people feel hopeful. But then again, apparently, Orinovo had been planning on attacking them again even before then.

“You’re going to talk about me, aren’t you?”

Fenn’s quiet voice suddenly brought Ain’s attention back to their group. Enlin was chattering about something with Petre in the front while he and Fenn were walking behind them. Fenn’s icy blue eyes were drilling holes in Ainreth.

“Well, yeah, I was planning on it.”

Fenn nodded, his face stony. Ain hoped he wasn’t mad about this. What else was Ain going to talk about? Having a shadowforger on their side was amazing, no matter whatever superstitions people believed, the objective truth was that Fenn was very powerful, and he would only get more powerful as he learned to control his abilities better and better. Everyone should find that comforting.

“Just don’t mention me by name.”

Ain’s eyebrows curved up in pity as Fenn kept his eyes on the ground. Ain truly hated to see how much Fenn was still haunted by how people treated him for what he was. It was awful. But they would learn. Fenn would show them all there was nothing about him to fear.

“Of course I won’t. Did you think I’d point at you in the crowd, maybe drag you onto the stage with me? I’d never do that to you, Fenn.”

Fennrin’s eyes found his again, his posture relaxing a little bit. He gave a nod, his gaze grateful, though he had no reason to be. Doing anything else would be a significantly asshole move.

They reached their destination just in time. A massive crowd had amassed at the Victory square, which was just a large, stone expanse with an uncreative name and statues of heroes from Lys-Akkaria’s past, now also decorated with flags and paper lanterns shaped like their dragon. Ainreth wouldn’t care about the name at this point, but he didn’t go to this part of the city much aside from his annual speech, so it always stood out to him. And of course, Varilik was at the podium with a big smile as he spoke to the crowd.

Sun, Ain hated the man so much. And he couldn’t even take comfort in the fact that he’d end up outliving him because Varilik was also an az-ari. Ain would be waiting a while.

Not taking a word of what the Herald was saying in, Ain started to push past the crowd, people getting out of his way the moment they realized that it was him, giving Fenn, Petre, and Enlin a wave as he did. He wasn’t sure if he was glad they would be in the back because the square was so packed with people there was nowhere else to go. They would probably not hear him that well from here, but Ain couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Finally reaching the wooden stage, Ain ran a hand through his hair, trying to smooth it out a little as he walked up the few steps, the guard standing above stepping aside for him to get up to the platform.

He purposefully avoided Varilik’s judgmental gaze, clasping his hands behind his back as he ran his eyes over the crowd. They all seemed so happy to be here, to see him and the sundering Herald. It was the only thing that always stopped Ainreth from being a jerk to them. No matter his foul mood, he could never ruin it for them. He supposed he was happy for them, even if all he could think about was how guilty he felt.

Suddenly, the people were clapping, and Ain blinked, only then realizing that Varilik had finished his speech. Great, his turn.

“And now our beloved Daybreaker will say a few words, as well.”

The Herald turned his stupid, warm gaze to Ain, smiling slightly as he stepped aside from the lectern. There was a parchment with notes on it. Ain huffed out a laugh. Weak.

“Thank you, sir.”

“Thank me next time by being on time,” Varilik said quietly, igniting the urge to turn the man into a crisp with a well-aimed light beam. But Ain resisted even fantasizing about it. He needed to focus.

He was sort of regretting not putting on his armor, or at least another layer, now that he was standing here. It was cold enough that he could see his own breath fogging, the sun barely managing to shine through the dark clouds rolling above them. He wondered if it was going to snow today. First snow was usually around Dragonrise.

He cleared his throat, turning his attention to the crowd. Better get this over with fast.

“So, another year is behind us, huh?” Not the most excellent start, but Ain really didn’t care. And no one else did either, for that matter. He remembered the Herald trying to get him to do some classes on how to structure a speech, but Ain didn’t do that nonsense. He just opened his mouth, words came out, and everyone seemed satisfied, more or less.

“I admit, it hasn’t been an easy one, what with Orinovo breathing down our necks, but we have reason to be hopeful. Well, another aside from me, of course.” He grinned as the crowd laughed. They were really easy to please, which was good.

“I know rumors have been going around, but for those who haven’t heard—we now have a shadowforger on our side.”

The crowd started to murmur suddenly, the good mood having evaporated, which made Ain glare at them. This was exactly what this aimed to rectify. He wouldn’t stand for people judging Fenn before knowing him.

His eyes drifted to the corner of the square where he’d seen him last, but he couldn’t spot him in the sea of faces.

“I know there is a lot of superstition going on about shadowforgers,” he said, raising his voice more to get them to shut up, which they did almost immediately. Being a national hero really came in handy sometimes. “I would like to kindly ask you to stop believing some old stories about how a shadowforger will come to kill your newborns.”

A few of the people gasped, looking offended at Ain snarking at them, but he couldn’t get himself to care. He knew Varilik was probably staring him down right, but he didn’t care about that either.

“I assure you, this shadowforger is very nice and has done nothing but help Lys-Akkaria in the two months he’d been here. He even saved me once already when out on a mission. Without him, I would have either been killed or imprisoned.” Ain leaned on the lectern with his forearm. “So instead of spreading rumors about how shadowforgers are evil, think about what his presence here means for us, for this country.”

He allowed a moment for a meaningful silence before continuing.

“A shadowforger seems to be about as powerful as a lightweaver. So instead of one of me, now we get two. So maybe don’t go around spreading fear about someone who will be incredible help with whatever plot Orinovo decides on.” Ainreth sighed, shaking his head. The people didn’t look very happy, but they weren’t booing, and that was about as much as he could hope to gain.

“Instead, you should celebrate. Not only this day, but what this all means, the hope it brings. This is a completely new chapter in Lys-Akkaria’s history where a lightweaver and a shadowforger are working together in defense of their nation. And Orinovo won’t stand a chance.”