Break the Day (Nightstar Book 1)

The next several weeks flew by in what felt like days as they kept going from town to town, helping out where needed, earning goodwill with the locals. And Fennrin had to admit, he did feel less and less unwelcomed as they went, the word clearly traveling ahead of them.

Even Snowflake was doing well, despite the fact that she wasn’t young anymore, at least ten years old. Fennrin had had her since she was a kitten, but only for a year before the…incident. But he was immensely glad that Ain had stolen her away from his parents. There was something so comforting about having her around, and in the wooden, cushioned transporter box they’d acquired from a shop owner in Lor-Lyntera, she seemed to be handling all the traveling fine. Though she did often demand to be pet by loudly meowing upon stopping. That and a nice piece of fish did seem to always placate her.

But as okay, sometimes even pleasant, their trip had been so far, now Fennrin was filled with dread. Because they were about to enter the town Ainreth’s family lived.

And yes, Fennrin knew he would have to meet them eventually. Though, maybe have to wasn’t a nice way of putting it. Perhaps get to was better. He was sure they were lovely, but it was all just very intimidating. Surely, Ain’s parents had already heard of him, and they were surely expecting great things. But when Fennrin put aside his az-ari abilities, he wasn’t very impressive at all. He was simply a very average man, and not one with any money or remarkable feats to his name.

Ainreth kept telling him how his parents were going to love Fennrin, but he couldn’t help but doubt that. What if they decided he wasn’t good enough for their son? That would be a danger if there were two parents, but there were five. Five people he needed to impress.

Fennrin wanted to dissolve again. Just hide as a shadow until Ain gave up on trying to convince him to go through with this. But he couldn’t do that. Hiding from this would just make Ainreth’s parents think less of him. No matter how bad of a first impression he made, this one would be the worst.

And so he took a few deep breaths as they passed through the town gate, large and dark, keeping his head down, as if afraid that among the people who were now watching them, there would be Ainreth’s parents, judging him.

He squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn’t mess this up. He just couldn’t.

He just followed behind Ainreth, not daring to look up, especially not once they stopped in front of a large, two-story house with many fir garlands decorating the door and windows. That did make him look up a little, wondering how long those lasted for. It must have taken quite a lot of time to get those there, and they would wilt eventually.

He remembered why he’d been so nervous when Ain in front of him jumped off his horse, walking to the door and, using the little metal knocker on it, he knocked twice. It didn’t take long for the door to swing open, revealing a short, middle-aged woman with long dark hair hanging loose over her shoulders and a brilliant smile on her face when she saw Ain.

“My Sun!” she cried, hugging Ainreth, her head not even meeting his shoulders.

“Hi, mom.” Ain hugged her back, glowing once again. It would be incredibly heartwarming, if not for the fact that Fennrin was still very nervous.

“You haven’t visited us in two months,” his mother—one of them, anyway—lightly berated him, but her smile was still very much present, a hint of an Orinovan accent in her voice. Then his gaze turned to Fennrin and Petre, smiling even more brightly. “Oh, Petre, hello! We haven’t seen you even longer.”

Petre nodded, smiling as well. “Yes, our duties have been keeping us regrettably busy.”

Ainreth’s mother nodded, though she didn’t look very happy about it. But then she turned her gaze to Fennrin, finally, her expression clearing up with joy. “Oh, someone new!” Then she paused, her eyes widening. She must have heard of him already, as had been expected, Fennrin thought as he climbed off his horse, patting Star as he went.

“Is this your new boyfriend, Ain?” she asked her son, grinning ear to ear as she bounded off to Fennrin and hugged him so tight it almost made it hard for him to breathe. He hadn’t expected such strength from such a small woman. “Oh, but he’s so thin. Why aren’t you taking proper care of him?”

“Mom,” Ain complained, blushing. Fennrin had no idea what was happening, especially not once Ainreth’s mother grabbed his hand and started leading him inside her house.

“Come on, sweetie, we will fix that.”

Fennrin shot a half-confused, half-alarmed look at Ainreth as he was led inside, the lightweaver wearing a very amused smile as he followed, waiting in the doorway for Petre to catch up because they tie their horses to something, otherwise they might wander off, and also to retrieve Snowflake from her carrier box.

Fennrin stared at the house around them, the small room beyond the door warmly lit and decorated with quilts hanging from the white-washed walls, a large lantern hanging above, the candle within unlit, the window on the right throwing enough sunlight into the room on its own. He wasn’t allowed to take much else in, however, as Ainreth’s mother pulled him along to the open door opposite the entrance, leading into a large living room with an equally large kitchen in the other corner.

Fennrin could barely catch a glimpse of the living room, only noting a couch, a table with some chairs, a few bookshelves, and a fireplace before he was being pulled toward the kitchen. And to four more people sitting at a table there, apparently having been playing cards, judging by the cards strewn over the table. Fennrin swallowed as they all started staring at him.

“Look everyone, it’s Ain’s new boyfriend!” Ainreth’s mother exclaimed, sounding as if she could barely contain her excitement, her hands on Fennrin’s sides presumably because she couldn’t comfortably reach his shoulders, presenting him.

“Oh, it is?!” one of the fathers practically yelled, a tall, dark-eyed man with short black hair, eyes wide and equally excited, immediately getting up and strolling to Fennrin, studying him before holding out his hand. Fennrin shoot it, not even feeling like he was in control of his actions, too overwhelmed.

“Nice to meet you! Please, call me Gwynn.” The man gestured to himself, grinning wide, only then ending their handshake. “And this is—”

“Tarinne Naralyn, hello!” one of the two other mothers greeted him, having snuck up on him from the side apparently. Fennrin almost flinched, but he shook her hand as well, noting that she was plump, blond, and blue-eyed, with prominent wrinkles around her eyes. She looked the oldest of the group, in her late sixties, perhaps. “I hear you’re a shadowforger. Very apt for our Ain, I’d say.”

“Er….”

“We’ll see about that,” muttered the second father, a light-brown-haired man of around fifty, wearing a scowl as he approached, looking Fennrin over critically. Fennrin swallowed nervously under his stare, ducking his head a little. At least this reaction he’d been expecting, unlike all the overly positive ones he’d so far gotten.

Ainreth’s third mother, a woman with long, curly, dark red hair, was also staring him down like she was evaluating him, not impressed with what she was seeing. And her considerable height only added to Fennrin’s nervousness.

“Come now, Bry, give him a chance. I’m sure he’s a sweet, young man, otherwise Ain wouldn’t choose him,” reasoned Gwynn, making Fennrin blush.

“Yeah, let the guy breathe, all right?” said Ainreth as he finally joined them, putting his hands on Fennrin’s shoulders, squeezing comfortingly. Fennrin took a deep breath, trying to calm down a little.

“Ain, baby!” Tarinne said, immediately embracing him. “Oh, we’ve missed you. Why don’t you visit more often?”

Ain chuckled, not very convincingly. “Yeah, mom already gave me an earful about it.”

Fennrin only then realized that he hadn’t caught the name of the mother with the Orinovan accent, but he was too overwhelmed to ask, already having to repeat everyone’s names over and over so he didn’t forget. He wasn’t the best at remembering names, and he couldn’t afford to forget. That would surely make him look rude, like he didn’t care enough.

He wondered if Ainreth truly called all of them mom or dad, and how that didn’t get confusing.

“Is that a burn?” the man called Bry—though that was certainly a nickname, Fennrin assumed, he certainly wouldn’t dare call him that—asked, concern immediately wiping away his earlier scowl as he approached Ain.

Ainreth immediately poked at the burn, waving his hand. “Oh. That. Yeah, that soundsmith I mentioned attacking me? We ran into her again. And she turned one of my light blasts against me.”

“Oh, poor baby,” the mother Fennrin had met first pitied Ain, coming over to wrap her arms around him. “I didn’t notice until now. Are you okay?”

Gwynn also hugged Ainreth on the other side, while the others watched Ain with concern. At least until Bry turned to Fennrin, his gaze hard and angry.

“Is it not your job to protect him?”

Fennrin stared at him, even as the red-haired woman glowered at him too. He was too shocked to say anything. Yes, he hadn’t handled that situation as best as he could have. But he also hadn’t expected Ain’s powers to be thrown right back at him like Yarima had done it. He hadn’t thought that was possible.

But that was just excuses. He knew it was his fault. He should have stopped Yarima even before she could think of attacking Ain. He certainly had the power to. He’d just been shocked and had frozen.

Just like he was now frozen, his mouth open, unable to say a word.

But thankfully, that was when Ainreth stepped in, escaping the hug and saving Fennrin from more than likely making a fool of himself. “Fenn did save me. I would have gotten killed without him.” Then he grinned with delight, putting an arm around Fennrin’s waist. “You should see him fight. He’s so strong. He can stop or kill anyone by controlling their shadow. And he does it so effortlessly.”

Fennrin expected Ainreth’s parents to be horrified by that information, but instead, they seemed impressed, with wide, interested eyes. Even the ginger woman whose name Fennrin still didn’t know. The only exception was Bry, who at least didn’t seem so hostile anymore, however.

Fennrin blushed when suddenly Ain’s lips were pressing against his cheek, his heart fluttering pleasantly, despite the stress he was under.

“Fenn can protect me just fine, can’t you, liri?” Ain said, smiling so sweetly, his eyes full of so much love, that Fennrin couldn’t say a word. He just nodded, dazed, overwhelmed once more though in a completely different way.

Gwynn cooed, a hand over his mouth, Ain’s dark-haired mother doing something similar.

“I’m so glad our little boy found himself someone,” she said, sniffing. When Fennrin looked at her, he was shocked to see actual tears in her eyes. He couldn’t help but let out a small, choked laugh at her calling Ainreth, a tall, thirty-year-old man their little boy, but it was very sweet to see how much Ain’s parents clearly loved him.

That thought brought with it a longing that he quickly pushed away. He had no parents. He hadn’t for almost a decade. That was simply the way things were, and that was how it would always be.

“Okay, great, now can we all sit down and calmly get to know each other?” Ain asked, getting an enthusiastic, positive response from most aside from the ginger woman and Bry, who still looked a little like they didn’t think Fennrin was good enough for their son. But no one disagreed, and Fenn found himself being ushered to the kitchen table and seat before he could react in any way.

Ain sat down next to him, taking his hand into his and interlocking their fingers, putting their joint hands on the table. There were actually seven chairs around the large table, likely accounting for guests.

Petre ended up sitting down as well, bringing their own chair from the living room. Everyone seemed to treat them very warmly, leading Fennrin to assume that they had visited with Ainreth more than a few times.

“Ooh, and who is this?” asked the dark-haired woman when she noticed Snowflake purring, curled up in Petre’s lap. She petted the cat immediately, making the animal melt even more, purring even louder. “What an adorable creature. Why is it traveling with you, though? Cats don’t like that much, I don’t think.”

Fennrin once again tensed um as everyone else took their seats. At least they were all looking at Petre and Snowflake, and not him. But that was soon to change if Petre told Ainreth’s parents what had happened.

Petre did open their mouth to answer, but it was Ainreth who spoke first. “I went to yell at Fenn’s parents for disowning him. The cat was his. We just took her with us because she doesn’t belong with those blighted monsters.”

“That’s horrible,” said Gwynn, staring at Fennrin with big, sad eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

Now they were all looking at him, much like Fennrin had been dreading, with expressions ranging from pity to anger. Bry especially looked irritated, his eyes dark as he scowled.

“It’s…okay,” Fennrin tried, but he suspected Ainreth would cut in, which he did immediately.

“No, it’s not okay!” He huffed, squeezing Fennrin’s hand more tightly. “I should have burned their house down.”

“Sweetheart, you can’t just burn a house down,” Ainreth’s dark-hair mother gently pointed out, while Tarinne immediately disagreed.

“Let our baby boy speak, Vanya!”

The dark-haired woman, apparently called Vanya, which was truly a very Orinovan name, turned to look at Tarinne, shaking her head at her. “He would get into trouble. Is that what you want, Tari?”

Tarinne muttered something under her breath, folding her arms over her chest.

“Why were you disowned?” the red-haired woman spoke for the first time, her voice very neutral. Dangerously so. But she wasn’t watching him with suspicion anymore, at least.

Fennrin looked down at the table, appreciating when Ain squeezed his hand again. “Because I am a shadowforger.”

“That’s so stupid!” said Tarinne, sounding offended even, which made Fennrin look up at everyone again. “I want to burn down that house now, too.”

“Tarinne,” everyone else said, making her huff.

“I agree,” said Bry, shocking everyone including Fennrin. This man was the last person Fennrin would have imagined would so readily agree that his parents had acted cruelly, let alone with burning down their house. Though perhaps he was only agreeing to the first part. “You deserved better than that.”

Vanya nodded firmly, her hair bouncing around as she turned to look Fennrin in the eye. “It’s okay, Fenn. You can be part of our family.” She turned to her spouses, raising an eyebrow. “Right?”

They all readily agreed, aside from Bry and the ginger woman, who just begrudgingly shrugged. And Fennrin was left reeling, not even sure he knew what was happening. “W-what? But you don’t even know me. I can’t accept—”

“Too late, liri,” Ain said happily, grinning ear to ear. “I told you I’ll be your family instead of them. So, it only makes sense for my family to be yours.”

Fennrin looked from one of Ainreth’s parents to the other, looking for any sign of them not being serious about this, but finding none. His eyes eventually found Petre, who shrugged at him, looking a little amused as they raised an eyebrow. Fennrin wondered what that meant.

“Look,” Fennrin said, not sure what exact words he was planning on saying next, though he did know what he wanted to say in essence. “I’m very touched. And honored. But I’m not sure—”

“Well, I am,” Ainreth cut in, kissing Fennrin’s cheek. “If you don’t want to, that’s fine, I suppose. But other than that, don’t feel like you’re not good enough.”

Ain whispered the last sentence, making Fennrin duck his gaze. Because that was exactly what the problem was, wasn’t it? He didn’t feel good enough for Ainreth’s family. But he would do his best to ignore those thoughts. After all, Ain liked him. And if Ainreth thought he was good enough, then he had to be.

“Aren’t they adorable?” Gwynn commented happily, making Fennrin blush hard.

“I-it’s very kind of you to offer,” said Fennrin finally, but he was once again interrupted, this time by Vanya.

“Of course, sweetie.” She smiled at him sweetly. “You’re an honorary Naralyn just for somehow managing to get our Ain to settle down.”

Ainreth blushed, staring at his mother with embarrassment on his face. “Mom.” Then he sighs, smiling as he shrugged. “What can I say? I found the one.”

The ginger woman shook her head, looking almost disappointed. Fennrin tensed up, waiting for her to explain to Ain why Fennrin wasn’t the one. “Ain, dearest, there is no need to limit yourself like that. You can have many of the ones.”

Ainreth sighed, running his free hand through his hair. Fennrin had to admit this was not at all what he’d been expecting her to say, now not knowing how to feel. Was his mother implying Fennrin wasn’t good enough? But then, the tired look on Ain’s face seemed to suggest he’d heard this before.

“Yes, mom, I know. But it’s just a singular the one for me, all right?” Ainreth looked at Fennrin as he said this, his eyes sparkling, his whole body glowing a little. And Fennrin couldn’t help but grin back, his heart fluttering. He always said these things with such certainty. It still made Fennrin’s head spin, but he didn’t doubt Ainreth’s words for even a second.

“Of course, sweetheart,” Vanya says happily, smiling at them, her eyes sparkling. “We’re very happy for you. Right, Olie?”

Fennrin immediately added the name to the red-haired woman in his mind, relieved that he now knew everyone’s names, even if some were clearly nicknames. Olie was likely not actually named Olie, and given the woman’s demeanor, he would certainly not risk calling her that. Or calling Bry Bry.

Why was it that the only two people he didn’t know the full names of were the only two of Ainreth’s parents who had regarded him with distrust?

“Of course,” Olie replied, smiling warmly at her son. Then she turned her eyes to Fennrin. “Now, why don’t you tell us something about yourself, Fenn?”

Fennrin grimaced, not sure what was there to say. He wasn’t special, beyond his power. “I, um, worked as a shadow puppeteer until Ain found me.”

Then he shrugged, not sure what else he could add. There was nothing much to his life. He’d spent most of it miserable, and now he was here.

“Yeah, being exploited, I must add,” Ainreth added, grumbling, letting go of Fennrin’s hand in order to put his arm around his waist protectively, kissing the top of Fennrin’s head. Then he muttered something insulting about Fennrin’s former boss, shaking his head.

“You’ve had a rough go of it, haven’t you?” Vanya said, both her face and voice pitying before she suddenly got up, her eyes wide. “Oh, I forgot! I wanted to give you boys and Petre some food. We have your favorite, Sun—roasted chicken with mashed potatoes.”

Ainreth’s annoyed expression was immediately forgotten in favor of an excited one that made Fennrin’s heart melt. He was so adorable. “Oh, perfect! I’m very hungry.”

“Yeah, don’t think it’s a coincidence either,” Tarinne joked, grinning wide. “Gwynn and Van have been trying to count what day you would end up visiting Tenremi. To time the chicken right.” She laughed, even as Gwynn next to her grinned at Ain as he nods to confirm it was true. “You didn’t make it for lunch, though.”

Ain sighed, about to respond, likely to recount their difficulties with the aftermath of a snowstorm the night prior, when Vanya came back with a large plate of mashed potatoes with melted butter and gravy on them, a large, baked chicken leg with incredibly crunchy-looking reddish skin, as well as a surprising amount of peas, given it was winter. But then, the Naralyns must have not been doing badly, financially speaking, if their son was the Daybreaker.

“Thanks, mom, it looks amazing,” Ain said with the giddiness of a child, digging in immediately. Fennrin watched him with fondness, his heart fluttering until Vanya broke the spell by putting another plate with the same obscene amount of food in front of him.

“Erm, thank you, but I’m not sure I can—”

“Eat up, sweetie,” she said, a big smile on her face as she patted his shoulder. “You’re far too skinny.”

Not wanting to argue with her, very grateful for the food, Fennrin gives up on explaining how there is no way he can eat this much, hoping that Vanya wasn’t going to take it as an insult to her cooking. Assuming she’d cooked this. There was no way to tell.

“You should have seen him when I found him,” Ain said angrily, though the effect was negated by him saying it through a mouthful of food. “The misborn employing him didn’t pay him enough to eat properly.”

Fennrin didn’t like this being talked about like this. It felt embarrassing, like he should be hiding how pitiful his existence had been until a few months ago. But it was true. And he wouldn’t try to stop Ainreth from saying it. He didn’t want to pretend in front of his parents either.

He just kept his eyes trained on his meal, hesitantly picking up a fork and scooping up a bit of the mashed potatoes, putting the fork to his lips. He blinked at the taste, much more delicious than he’d been expecting. “It’s very good. Thank you.”

Vanya nodded at him as she put the last plate in front of Petre, who thanked her, grabbing a bit of the chicken breast he’d gotten and giving it to Snowflake, who was still purring in their lap. The cat immediately took the meat, scarfing it down and liking herself.

Fennrin still couldn’t believe they’d taken her with them, but he was glad since the little creature didn’t seem too bothered. After this visit, they were going to return to Kyr-Toryl, and she would get more stable living conditions in Ain’s home. At least Fennrin hoped that was what Ainreth had implied by taking her with them.

Petre might have not seemed like they minded taking care of Snowflake for the time being, but Fennrin doubted they would be willing to take her into their house and keep her.

After finishing their meals—well, Fennrin had truly tried to finish his but in the end couldn’t, the mashed potatoes overwhelming him—Fennrin found himself relaxing a little, the focus not being trained only at him anymore as Ain started telling his parents about some of the things they’d done on their journey so far, Petre and Fennrin sometimes chiming in to either add to it or point out Ainreth was embellishing.

Olie ended up bringing out a board game at some point that Fennrin didn’t fully comprehend the rules of, but he did his best to play. In the pleasant, homely atmosphere, time flew by so much that the sun had gone down long before he noticed it was dark outside. The only reason he did notice was because Tarrine loudly announced that it was now late enough to bring out mead.

Fennrin wasn’t certain what time had to do with anything, but given the displeased looks from the other four of Ainreth’s parents, it was probably some kind of rule they had. And of course, Ainreth whooped, all for it. Fennrin held his tongue, though. He didn’t think Ain had had alcohol aside from a beer or two here and there from the incident, so he wouldn’t tell him anything.

Fennrin blinked when he felt Petre tap his shoulder. When he looked at them curiously, they jerked their head toward the other side of the room and got up, heading over to the fireplace, putting Snowflake on the ground, which the cat responded to by meowing in displeasure and climbing into Ain’s lap instead, presumable because Fennrin was also now getting up, following Petre.

“Okay, so,” Petre said quietly, barely audible over the others talking and laughing, looking Fennrin right in the eye so intensely that he almost wanted to look away. “I’ve just been meaning to say something for a while, and we keep getting distracted. But….” They put a hand on Fennrin’s shoulder, making him more and more unsure of what this was. “Look, I just wanted to say that you make Ain really happy.”

Fennrin blinked, staring at them, having no idea what to do with this. At least this wasn’t bad news, but it was equally as difficult to react to. Thankfully Petre continued.

“Happier than I’ve ever seen him, I think.” Petre grinned, looking genuinely happy, none of their usual sarcasm present. “So I just…wanted to thank you, I guess. It’s great to see him so…full of life, I suppose.”

Fennrin nodded, having no idea how to respond still. He wanted to say that Ainreth makes him very happy, as well, but he wasn’t completely certain Petre cared about that. Regardless, it was nice of them so this.

“I will punch you if you hurt him,” Petre said next, their tone not indicating at all if they were joking or not, before walking back and sitting at the table again. Fennrin had no intention to hurt Ain, of course not, but he couldn’t help but stand there, shocked for a second, intimidated.

He swallowed as he shuffled back to the table, trying to focus only on the first thing Petre had said and not the second. And the moment he repeated to himself that he made Ain happy, his heart fluttered, warmth spreading through him, even more so when Ain put his arm around his waist again, kissing his cheek.

He grinned at him, laying his head on Ainreth’s shoulder, much to Gwynn and Vanya’s cooing. He didn’t regret visiting one bit.