Break the Day (Nightstar Book 1)

Ain knew that Fenn was stressed over this whole journey, but so far nothing too bad had happened. They had set off early in the morning, and had already visited a few villages that were near the road leading from Kyr-Toryl. The locals hadn’t needed help with much, though Fenn did help a woman move kegs of beer. Ain was still in awe of how powerful Fenn was, and watching him move heavy loads with barely a twitch of his finger was certainly a good way to make Ainreth feel that. Not to mention how attractive it was.

But he wouldn’t let himself get too distracted, especially not when on the route Varilik had chosen for them—and he was right, the blighted misborn, it was the most direct, time-effective route—would take them to Fenn’s hometown tomorrow. This trip was supposed to take two weeks at the very least, depending on what the locals needed help with. But Ain was glad, he supposed. At least they would get this over with soon. Assuming he wouldn’t try to murder Fenn’s parents, but he made no promises to himself.

Knowing that these people kicked Fennrin out of their house just because he was a shadowforger was infuriating. He wanted them to feel what they’d done to their son. But he also knew Fenn wouldn’t let him hurt them in any way. That was good, though, he supposed. At least he wouldn’t have to control himself too much around them. Fenn would keep him in check.

But that was for later. Right now, they were about to arrive in Ys-Kenyr, one of the larger cities. Over two thousand people lived here if Ainreth remembered correctly, so they were bound to have their hands full. Though Ain was glad they were arriving already because the icy wind was picking up, bringing in new snow that stung his face. Petre had made him bring gloves, which was good because Ain was capable of forgetting even that, but he had nothing to protect his face. His burn was still too fresh for this not to be unpleasant.

Adorably, Fenn was wearing a scarf, which he’d found in Ain’s dresser. Ainreth didn’t even remember owning that, but its little tassels and dark purple color were a great fit for Fenn. It made Ain want to kiss his little forehead.

“Is that a gold roof?” Fenn asked, squinting into the distance. Indeed there was one when Ain focused on the city’s buildings themselves. And perhaps there were more. Ainreth could see something glinting in the distance, but the haze of snow was too thick to properly take it in.

“Ys-Kenyr was founded by miners working in the nearby gold mine,” Petre explained from behind them in a dry, matter-of-fact tone. How did they know everything all the time? It couldn’t just be from them reading a lot, surely.

“Thanks, little guy,” Ain replied, grinning over his shoulder at them. “Thank the moon you’re coming with us. I barely know where we are.”

Petre did smirk a little at that, their eyes sparkling with amusement at Ain’s words. “Exactly why I decided to accompany you.”

Petre also had the map, which was good because Ain hated reading those. Sure, he knew how, but it was so boring. And Petre was wonderful at navigation, as they’d proven time and time again, even when they were in the middle of nowhere in a forest somewhere.

Ainreth mostly kept his eye on the locals as they reached the city gates rather than the architecture, waiting for some of them to give Fenn looks. And indeed, there were people looking their way from the moment they entered. But they were mostly looking at him, not Fenn, and when looking at Fennrin, the vast majority seemed intrigued, rather than scared or angry.

Ain would take that as a good sign, but he was sure that unfortunately, the reason barely anyone was reacting negatively was because they didn’t recognize who Fenn was yet. But as ever, if anyone dared to try to say anything to Fenn, if they even looked at him wrong, they’d have to deal with the wrath of a thousand suns, also known as Ainreth.

Leaving their horses in a nearby stable, they immediately headed for the first tavern they saw, looking to warm up and exchange a few words with the tavern keeper. That was always the easiest way to find out whatever a person might need to know about a town. Especially in Ain’s case because everyone tended to give him special treatment. And Ainreth abused that fact as much as possible.

The tavern was almost empty, likely due to it still being fairly early, not even noon yet. Ain immediately went to the tavern keeper, who turned out to be a thirty-something-year-old woman, who was currently cleaning tankards. Ainreth would like a beer, despite the cold weather outside, but he would get one later. They needed to focus right now.

“The Daybreaker in my tavern,” the woman said in surprise, grinning nonetheless. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Ain leaned against the counter with his forearm when he reached it, seating himself in one of the chairs, Petre and Fenn following, though it seemed the shadowforger was more hesitant about all of this.

He considered if he should outright say what they were here to do or not, but given that this was about people giving Fenn a chance, he supposed there was no reason to be secretive.

“I assume you’ve heard about there now being a shadowforger helping defend Lys-Akkaria?”

The woman’s expression didn’t turn hostile, though she did seem a little guarded. “Yes, I did. But what does that—” Then she looked at Fenn, who was very obviously avoiding her eyes. “Oh, is it you?”

Fennrin nodded, a grimace on his face as he stared down at the counter. “Yes.”

Ain scowled, sneaking an arm around his beloved’s waist. “That’s right. Fenn here is that shadowforger. And we’re here to prove that he’s not a threat. Is there anything we can help out with?”

The tavern keeper took a hard look at Fenn, under which the shadowforger seemed to shrink further. But Ainreth just pulled him closer. “What can you do?”

“Move things without touching them? No matter how heavy,” Fenn suggested, Ain and Petre nodding. Surely that would be incredibly useful in any town.

The woman raised an eyebrow, looking intrigued as she leaned closer. “Really? I always thought all shadowforgers could do was kill.”

Fenn cringed, despite the woman’s thoughtful tone. She was clearly not trying to make Fennrin uncomfortable, or attack him, though Fenn seemed to take it that way.

“Yeah, most people seem to think that,” Ain grumbled, annoyed at being reminded of this. “That’s why we’re here. Can you believe a crowd showed up in front of the palace claiming that Fenn was corrupting me?”

He wasn’t even sure where this rant had come from, but he felt like he’d not expressed enough how ridiculous this whole thing was. Corrupting him. If anything, Fenn was doing the opposite.

“Oh, you two are an item?” the tavern keeper said, smirking, clearly very amused by this, though not maliciously so. If she were, Ain would have words for her. “I see. I should have known.”

“Wait, is that what happened?” Petre asked, their face neutral but their eyes burning with anger. Had they not known that? Ain supposed he hadn’t told them. He’d just sort of assumed that everyone had already heard.

“Yes. It was awful,” Fenn muttered miserably, still staring at the wooden counter.

“Well, listen,” the tavern keeper said, nodding. “There’s been some trouble with our city hall. The building with the gold roof? There was a fire a few years ago. People have been trying to repair it since, and it’s time to replace the bell. But our crane apparently broke.”

“You think I could lift the bell up where it needs to be,” Fenn finished her thought, frowning.

“Of course you can, liri,” Ain said, grinning. He had no doubts Fenn could lift a bell. He’d seen him lift a boulder one time, and the shadowforger didn’t seem to even break a sweat. His power was incredible. “It’s going to be great.”

Fenn did look up then, though he had a grimace on his face. Ain pulled a glove off and reached to touch Fenn’s cheek, running his fingers over it. Fenn had a delightful blush on from the cold outside, his usually very pale cheeks pink. “I’ll do my best.”

“You always do, Fenn. I’ve never seen you drop anything. It’s going to be just fine, you’ll see.” Ain reached into his pocket, pulling out a few virens and giving them to the tavern keeper. Might as well make the impression better with some money. That never failed. “Thank you very much for the tip.”

“No problem,” the woman said, pocketing the coins with an amused smirk. “Come by later. We’re going to have fried carp.”

Ain felt himself salivate, even though that fish always made him worry he’d swallow one of those sharp little bones. “Great. We’ll make sure not to miss that.”

With that they said goodbye, leaving the tavern again. Ainreth didn’t like that they were going into the cold wind again, but it was less annoying here in the city, the many houses right next to each other around them, forming tight streets, were shielding them from the weather.

They followed down what seemed to be the main street, wide and full of people visiting the market stalls on the sides, hoping that it would lead them to the city hall. The fact that people were selling and buying things in this weather was either stupid or impressive, Ainreth couldn’t decide. Though seeing the grilled meat and hot mulled wine and mead did make him fully understand.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a woman elbow the man standing next to her, pointing at Ainreth, to which the lightweaver flashed them a grin and waved, much to their mortification. It was a good thing Ain could turn himself invisible if he wanted to. He did enjoy the fame, but it could get a bit much.

Their guess that this street would eventually lead them to the city hall proved right a while later as they walked up it as it started to rise, only to reach a city square with the building right in front of them. There was wooden scaffolding all around, with a couple of people on it, painting the walls. The city hall did look very new, though not yet finished.

Ain looked up at the bell tower, sticking out of the roof of the city hall, with its own small roof also made of gold, wondering how high up it was since the entire building seemed quite tall, several stories certainly. Though, he had no doubts Fenn would manage, it looked quite difficult to not crash a bell into a wall from down here.

Ainreth strolled over to the building, going right for the scaffolding and yelling up at the workers: “Hey, who’s in charge of these repairs?”

Before the guy painting could respond, a woman with her dark hair in a bun came from behind the corner of the building, wearing a work apron stained white. “That would be me. Who is—” Her eyebrows flew up when she saw Ain, clearing her throat as she closed the distance between them. “Um, hello? What can I do for you, general?”

“We heard you have trouble with a bell,” he said, gesturing to Fennrin who was standing right next to him. “This is Fenn. He’s a shadowforger. And he could get that bell up to the tower for you.”

The woman looked even more shocked now, looking from Ain to Fenn, and then to Petre, as if expecting them to explain that Ainreth was joking. “I have heard of a shadowforger working with you, but I didn’t expect….” The woman cleared her throat. “Um, I mean, if you can do it, we’d be very grateful. I would not get very far by refusing help. You can lift a bell like this?”

Fenn nodded, though he seemed a little hesitant. As if there was a reason. But Ainreth understood. The poor shadowforger wasn’t yet entirely confident in his powers. But they would get him there.

“All right. Then, please, follow me.” With that the woman turned around again, walking back the way she had come from, and the three of them following her. They walked around the city hall, past the leafless trees and scaffolding lining the building, until they reached the back of the building, where the wood and stone base of what must have been a massive crane remained, the part that would do the actual lifting missing.

And next to it was a massive bell, as tall as a person, and much, much wider, with sun and moon symbols carved into it, half covered in snow.

Honestly, no matter how big a crane, Ain doubted it would manage to lift a bell like that. How much could it weigh?

“So, how will this work?” the woman asked, a little apprehensive as she put her hands on her hips and frowned at the bell.

Ain gave Fenn an encouraging grin as the shadowforger lifted his arm, clenching his hand into a fist. And then the bell began to lift off the snowy ground, its shadow moving as the bell lifted up higher, now almost reaching their shoulders as snow fell from it.

The bell then gently deposited itself back down on the ground again, Fenn relaxing his hand.

“Sun above,” the woman muttered in shock. She was staring at the bell with wide eyes, her mouth hanging open a little. “Well, then. That should work.” She then shook herself, as if physically needed to get rid of her shock. “Okay, so, all we need is to get the bell in the bell tower. It has to be installed afterward, but that shouldn’t be an issue. I’ll go up to the bell tower, and try to help you get the bell in without us breaking a wall.”

Fenn nodded, which was apparently good enough for the woman who bolted, running back to the front door. And in a shockingly short amount of time, she was yelling down at them that Fenn could lift the bell up.

Ain put his hand on Fenn’s shoulder, squeezing in what he hoped was a comforting move, while Fennrin raised his hand, clenching it into a fist again. Ain wasn’t sure why, but this simple action was incredibly attractive.

Ainreth watched as the bell was lifted off the ground again, slowly but surely rising up to toward the bell tower. Ain had no idea how Fenn was going to get it through one of the four large openings in the wall because it all looked so small from down here, but the shadowforger didn’t seem intimidated anymore, lifting the bell higher and higher, his eyes following its shadow rather than the bell itself.

“Just a little higher!” called the woman down at them, and Fenn obliged, raising the bell up higher. Ainreth only then realized that it hadn’t made a sound, but that was likely because it wasn’t swaying at all, Fennrin’s grip on its shadow unwavering and sure.

The woman told Fenn to move the bell a little to the right, then to the left before telling him to move it inside of the tower and let it down, which it did with a thump and a loud clang. Fenn grimaced, but it wasn’t his fault. How he’d seen the shadow long enough to even get the bell up there was beyond Ain.

“Great! It’s perfect!” shouted the woman, waving down at them.

And Ain relaxed, grinning as he immediately pulled Fenn into a hug, kissing his forehead. Fenn blushed a deep red, but he was smiling too, hugging Ainreth back.

“You’re so strong!” Ain exclaimed, unable to contain his excitement. Fenn just curled into the hug further, hiding his face in Ainreth’s neck.

“I’m really not,” Fenn mumbled, but Ain wasn’t having any of it.

“You just lifted a blighted tower bell with your mind. If that’s not strong I don’t know what is.”

Fenn didn’t resist that time, melting into Ain’s hold further, which only made him hug him tighter. Ainreth’s eyes suddenly came across Petre, smiling at them, though they immediately rolled their eyes when they noticed Ain looking. The smile never left their face, however, and Ainreth grinned back at them.

He was glowing again, he noted as he looked down at Fenn and saw his dark coat lit up with a warm yellow light. Ain was bound to do that a lot as he had barely any control over it unless he noticed and forced himself to stop. And he didn’t want to stop. He hoped Fenn didn’t mind.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw two of the people who had been painting the city hall watching them from the scaffolding, and he couldn’t help but smirk. Good. The whole world should know how much he adored his beloved.

A few days had passed, with them having visited two more cities, and at least five towns and villages. Ainreth had long since lost count, and he supposed it didn’t matter since Petre wrote everything done, being as dutiful as ever.

And so far, things had been going very well. There was usually some opposition from the locals when they were told who Fennrin was, some distrust and worry, but most people seemed to be willing to give him a chance, and when he aided them with whatever task they needed help with, usually moving heavy things, they did seem to warm up to him. And it seemed that word was traveling fast because in the last city they visited, some people already knew what they were there to do, and they didn’t seem anything but accepting of it.

So, until now Ain had been more or less happy, aside from the fact that this was proving that Varilik’s idea had been good, that blighted misborn. The town they were going to visit next was Lor-Lyntera, the place Fenn’s family lived. And the atmosphere between the three of them was very tense and unpleasant.

No one said a word as the town’s stone walls appeared on the horizon, and they stayed silent all the way until they reached the town gates, where the guard greeted them, leaving Ain with no choice but to acknowledge him.

“We heard you might be coming, general,” said the man, saluting him, though his eyes were firmly trained on Fenn, who was staring down at his saddle, gloomy. “We’re very pleased, especially because Mr. Tyr-Syrenten’s parents haven’t gone a day without praising him. Not since that attempt on your lives.”

Ain’s eyes went wide, feeling fury and outrage rising within him. He could practically sense the way Fenn had tensed up next to him, staring at the guard in shock, but he couldn’t look his way right now. “Praising, huh? Have they also mentioned that they threw Fenn out?”

“Ain,” Fenn warned, as if to stop him from doing the obvious thing and getting angry. And no matter how much he wanted to please Fenn, he couldn’t do that. Especially now that they knew that Fennrin’s parents had apparently been using him to brag.

The guard was now looking at him with unsure eyes, apparently not confident in what he was supposed to answer. Not that Ain needed him to comment on any of this. “Where might the Syrentens live?”

The guard’s gaze flicked from Ain to Fenn, and then to Petre before answering, frowning in concern. “Follow the main street. Their house is the biggest in the town.”

“Of course it is,” Ain snarked, nodding at the guard. It was time to have some words with Fenn’s parents. And he doubted it would end in words, either. Sun, he hated fake people.

Making Sunray move again, he entered the town, glaring at everything and everyone around them. It was a nice, sunny day, making the snow around them sparkle, and objectively, he knew that Lor-Lyntera was a nice-looking town, but Ainreth hated all of it. In his eyes, the connection to Fenn’s awful parents made this the ugliest town in existence.

“Ain,” Fenn tried again as he chased after him, the sound of his horse’s hooves beating against the ground loud and rapid. Only then did Ainreth realize he’d brought Sunray almost to a gallop, and quickly slowed down before he trampled one of the people walking up and down the street. “Calm down.”

“Calm down?!” Ainreth immediately felt guilty for snapping at Fenn like that, but he wouldn’t take it back, either. To suggest that he was being out of line was nuts. “They disowned you! And now they have the nerve to brag about you?”

Ain felt his anger dissipate when he took a proper look at Fenn, seeing his miserable frown and his horribly sad eyes. “It’s not worth it. Let’s just help around a little and leave.”

Ainreth suddenly yearned to do what Fenn was suggesting, to completely ignore the parents, and get on with their day. But he knew he couldn’t do that. He knew that Fenn was never going to scream at them like they deserved. And that was enough for his anger to flare up again.

“No, Fenn. You can go ahead and meet the locals. But I am going to go have a few words with the Syrentens.”

Fenn huffed, slowing down so that he disappeared from view, but when Ain looked over his shoulder, he saw that Fenn had simply filed behind him, still following. When the shadowforger saw him looking, he scowled, though his annoyance couldn’t mask his sadness.

“I should be there if you insist on yelling at them.”

Ain nodded, briefly exchanging a look with Petre, who was apparently also coming along. Good, Ain didn’t doubt that Petre would back him up, even if Fenn decided not to. But he hoped he would. It would no doubt be cathartic for him to tell his parents how much they’d hurt him, even if they refused to see how cruel they had been.

Just thinking that made Ain want to go faster, but he forced himself to stay calm, letting Sunray carry him off to the tall house up ahead. Well, house might not have been an accurate description. It was a mansion a noble would have, which he supposed made sense. Fenn was supposed to be from a rich family. Perhaps not that rich by Kyr-Toryl standards, but certainly enough to be notable in a town like this.

Ain scowled at the place as they got closer and closer, hating every single bit of it. The bright red roof, the pristine, white walls, the fact that the place had three stories and three balconies that he could see in the top one…. He even hated the damned, pretty lanterns hanging down from the balconies, and he usually loved any type of light source. They usually made him feel all warm inside, while the only warmth he was getting from these was white-hot rage.

When he was close enough, he stopped Sunray, dismounting and letting her stand in the middle of the street, too angry to make sure she wouldn’t try to eat anyone’s hat. He just marched to the door, rapping his knuckles hard against the wood.

Ain didn’t have to wait long for the door to swing open, revealing an angry-looking, middle-aged man with the same blond hair as Fenn. The sight already made Ainreth want to punch him.

“Who do you think—” The man’s expression cleared up, his anger disappearing in favor of shock. “Oh, general, um, what an honor for you to visit us.”

“Oh, it is not, I promise,” Ain replied, a sharp smile on his face, his fists clenched at his sides.

The man frowned, unsure. “Um, I beg your pardon?”

Ain snorted. He would give no pardons. He stepped aside a little, just enough so that Fenn’s father could see his son, standing a little bit behind Ain, staring at the ground. Ain wanted to hug him when he looked so miserable, but he couldn’t. First, there was yelling to be done.

“Remember him? The son you kicked out? That you’re now bragging about?” Ainreth hissed, leaning in closer.

The man’s eyes were wide and shocked as he swallowed nervously, fidgeting with his hands. He opened his mouth, but no words came out as his eyes kept flicking from Ain to Fenn. And then a woman joined them, coming to the door and looking over Fenn’s father’s shoulder. Likely his mother, then.

Ainreth yearned to burn them both.

“What is—” The woman’s eyebrows flew up when she figured out what was going on. “Oh. Fennrin.”

“Yeah. Fennrin,” repeated Ain, glaring at them both. “Good to know you still remember his name.” Then he lifted his index finger, pointing it at them, his glare only gaining in intensity. “Talk about him again, and I will burn your house down.”

The woman ducked her head, looking ashamed, which was the appropriate response that Ainreth had been expecting. The man, however, only scowled back, drawing himself to his full height even though he was still missing a few inches on Ain.

“Now listen here, Daybreaker. This is none of your business. What gives you the right to come here and threaten us?”

“The right?” Ain repeated, his voice so cold he almost surprised himself. “Your heartless actions do, actually. And the fact that you changed your tune just because what you assumed was a curse turned out to be an incredible gift? How spineless are you?”

The man attempted to close the door, but Ain put his foot on the doorstep, not letting him.

“I will report you,” the man attempted to threaten, but his voice was weak and shaky, his eyes full of fear. Good.

“Go ahead and try. No one will care.”

Suddenly the fear was gone, replaced with outrage. “This is between our family. How dare you intrude like this?”

And that was apparently the point where Ain couldn’t take it anymore. His fist was flying at Fenn’s father’s face then, and though he could stop it, he didn’t want to, enjoying the crunch of bone against his knuckles, the cry the man made as the force of the punch sent him to the floor, the woman tumbling down with him as he crashed into her on the way down.

He glared down at them for a moment, feeling quite pleased with how Fenn’s father was now bleeding, his wife attempting to help, though judging by her fumbling, she had no idea how. Figured.

“Fenn is my family now, not yours. You disowned him,” he spat at them, barely resisting the urge to kick Fenn’s father in the stomach. “How you treated him was disgusting. I truly hope you don’t have any other children.”

Then suddenly he noticed a snow-white, incredibly fluffy cat staring up at the scene with big blue eyes from a corner. Ain frowned at it, wondering. Was that still the same cat as the one whose tail Fenn had sprained?

Before he could demand an answer, though, the cat started moving, sneaking around Fenn’s parents, brushing Ain’s leg as it ventured outside. Ainreth turned around, watching as the cat stopped in front of Fenn who had been standing there, frozen until now, meowing at him.

“S-Snowflake?” Fenn stammered, bending down to pet the cat. Ain almost gasped, suddenly feeling all choked up. So it was the same cat.

Watching Fenn gingerly scoop the animal up, holding it close to him as he continued petting its head, his eyes all glassy and wet, Ain turned to scowl at the Syrentens again. “We’re taking the cat. If you dare try to stir up trouble, I will burn down your blighted house. Never dare talk to or about Fenn again.”

And with that he walked off, heading right to Fenn even as he heard the door to the Syrentens’ house shutting closed. He wondered if the shadowforger was going to be mad at him for punching his father, but when Fenn noticed him, he immediately took the few steps necessary so he could bury his head in Ain’s shoulder.

Ainreth immediately hugged him back, feeling the cat purring up a storm between their chests. Only then did Ain realize that Fenn was shaking, silently sobbing into his shoulder. Ain reached up, putting a hand on Fenn’s head as he held him closer as his cloak got wet with Fenn’s tears.

He barely noticed that the reason the cat had stopped purring was because Petre had taken it away and was now holding it instead, letting Fenn cling better onto Ain. The lightweaver stroked Fenn’s hair, holding him as close as possible until the sobbing subsided.

“Thank you,” he muttered in such a broken little voice that it made Ain’s heart ache. “I don’t think…I would have been able to do that.”

Ain stroked his back, continuing to stroke his hair, running his hand over Fenn’s ponytail. “It’s okay, Fenn. That’s why I’m here.”

Suddenly, Fenn drew away, blinking in shock. “W-wait, Snowflake. They shut the door. We have to give her back.”

Ain shook his head, throwing a look at Petre petting the cat, the white ball of an animal melting in their arms. “No, we’re taking her with us.”

“What?” Fenn looked like he wanted to argue, but he didn’t seem to have enough energy to do it properly. “We can’t take her on a journey like this.”

Ain waved his arm. “Sure we can. We just need something to transport her in. I’m sure we can get something around here.”

Fenn was silent for a moment, his face tear-stained and splotchy, but then he was suddenly leaning in, kissing Ain almost desperately. Ainreth couldn’t help but chuckle, kissing him back and humming happily.

He was so glad this was behind them. He felt emotionally exhausted, and still more than a little angry. But that would pass. Especially once he got a beer. They all earned at least one.