Break the Day (Nightstar Book 1)

Ainreth was in a horrible mood. Not even the threat of war on the horizon could make him as annoyed as traveling with the blighted Herald over any distance, let alone one as long as this. He just kept glaring at nothing as they rode their horses along the road with around ten more soldiers, rolling his eyes ever so slightly when Varilik said anything, especially when talking to Fenn.

Fenn himself seemed quite happy to talk to Varilik, and it made Ainreth’s blood boil. He didn’t want to be that kind of boyfriend to tell his partner who they could and couldn’t talk to, but why couldn’t his liri hate Varilik as much as he did? It would make things so much easier.

But as irritating as this trip had been, they were going to reach the border by today’s evening, and that was all Ainreth cared about. He should be looking forward to likely battling Orinovo less, but he couldn’t help but make light of it. With Fenn at his side, he felt unstoppable. He had at some point heard rumors about Orinovo attempting to figure out how to stop his rays of light from burning their soldiers, but even if that were true and not simply propaganda, how were they possibly going to get rid of their shadows?

It was thoughts like this he clung to whenever he thought about fighting another war. He hadn’t even properly taken part in the last one, having fought in it only during its last year, and even that had been far too much for him, even as relatively invulnerable as he was against average soldiers. But he’d seen how strong Fenn was time and time again. There was no way they would lose. They would show Orinovo and its insane queen that Lys-Akkaria was and would remain free, no matter what Orinovo tried.

“And you do this every year?” he heard Fennrin ask Varilik from where the two of them were in front of Ainreth. He narrowed his eyes, scowling at the genuinely interested tone Fenn had used. Nothing about the Herald was interesting. Nothing.

“Yes, I always look forward to it,” Varilik replied in a stupid, smug tone. “I have considered making these trips twice a year, but alas, my duties to our nation keep me quite busy.” A short beat of silence followed, almost making Ainreth hope that this was over, but then Varilik spoke again. “I heard you lifted a tower bell all by yourself?”

Ainreth scowled at the impressed tone. He was impressed too, still, and as far as he was concerned, Fenn should get all the recognition and compliments under the sun, but not from Varilik. It always seemed as though the older man had some kind of angle. Petre had called Ainreth paranoid for thinking that already, but he couldn’t shake it. Everything the Herald said seemed calculated, always.

But what could he be trying to achieve by complimenting Fennrin? Perhaps to get him to like the Herald? Turn Fenn into another general for him, the way he’d done to Ain, even though Fennrin had expressed no desire to even become a soldier? Whatever it was, Ainreth didn’t like it.

“Yes, it was…surprisingly easy,” said Fennrin, hesitating, as if he was afraid of looking as though he was bragging. Which, even though he wasn’t, he would be completely justified in doing. Fenn could brag for days, as far as Ain was concerned. He’d earned it already.

“Incredible,” the Herald said, sounding amazed, his damned smile audible in his voice. Ain gritted his teeth. He almost didn’t manage to hold himself back and ask why exactly Varilik was so interested in this, but he held his tongue. Of course, the High Herald would be interested to know the abilities of one of his soldiers. It made sense. And yet Ainreth couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to this.

But of course he had no evidence.

“I’m sure you will only get more powerful from here,” Varilik said, turning his head to face Fenn better, letting Ain see his stupid, pleased smile. Blighted misborn.

“I hope so. I want to protect people. Be useful,” replied Fenn, sounding so earnest and making Ainreth scowl. He was already plenty useful. And even if he wasn’t useful at all, that didn’t mean anything about his worth as a person. Because Ain was sure that was exactly what Fennrin was getting at here.

“You’re doing wonderfully, Fennrin.”

Ain rolled his eyes for what felt like the hundredth time that day. This trip couldn’t end fast enough. Thankfully, that was where the conversation ended, their group soon approaching a medium-sized village which should be their last stop before the wall. And Ainreth couldn’t wait to get it over with.

He usually didn’t mind inspiring people, doing a little trick with the light if they wanted, and he certainly didn’t mind the way they cheered for him, either. But on this trip, everything got on his nerves. Absolutely everything. He had already snapped at some poor, innocent bystander for no reason. He did feel a little bad about that, but not enough to take any of it back.

He paid attention to nothing except Fenn as they entered the village, much to the excitement of the locals. The Herald always did tricks with his sproutkeeping, growing plants in the field long before their time as a way to inspire, or something, but Ainreth didn’t care enough to have listened to him explaining it before they’d lefts

The moment Varilik climbed off his horse, Fenn following suit, Ain swooped in, taking the shadowforger’s hand into his, squeezing, and stopping him from going as close to the Herald as Fenn likely wanted to, distracting him by kissing his cheek, which always made Fenn blush.

Ain didn’t feel good about distracting Fenn like this, but he just couldn’t watch him and Varilik bonding anymore. It was wrong. The less time they spent together, the better.

He brushed his thumb over Fenn’s cheek, unable not to smile at how handsome he was. He couldn’t believe Fennrin himself didn’t think he was good-looking. What nonsense. “Have I mentioned I love your little ponytail?”

Fennrin chuckled, leaning in to kiss Ainreth on the lips before pulling away, a soft smile on his face as he ran his hand over said ponytail. “Yes, you have.”

“You two are exhausting,” joked Petre as they led their horse past them. “I would have thought you’d stop being so sappy by now.”

“Never!” cried Ain, laughing, hearing Fenn add his own little chuckle as well. It was so beautiful to hear. Petre let out an amused huff, shaking their head as they continued leading their horse away, prompting Ainreth to follow, but not before he gave Fenn a kiss.

Hand in hand, they followed behind that bastard Varilik, doing what they’d done in the last five towns they’d visited—stand around and wait for the Herald to be done pretending he cares about the locals before they could move on.

“Varilik hasn’t told you anything strange, has he?” asked Ainreth, originally wanting to be subtle about it, but giving up ahead of time. There was no way to talk about these things in a non-direct way.

“What do you think he’s told me?” Fennrin asked, looking confused, a cute little frown on his face. “I don’t even think I’ve talked to him without you being present for it.”

Ain shrugs. “I don’t know. I don’t trust him.”

Fenn sighed, squeezing Ainreth’s hand. “I know you don’t. But he’s been very polite and kind to me. I will tell you if he ever says something…strange.”

Ain nodded, though it didn’t really help his worries. Varilik was good at talking, and Fenn wasn’t very experienced in most things. Things could easily go over his head. But Ainreth trusted Fennrin’s judgment.

They walked in silence, enjoying each other’s company and the sunny, late winter day. The freshness of the coming spring was in the air, barely any snow around anymore, and the temperature high enough that they could comfortably spend hours outside.

“We might soon be fighting Orinovo,” Ain said, feeling like the words had to be spoken at some point. He hadn’t wanted to say them, but he had to. They might not get a good, peaceful moment ever again.

“Yes, I know,” Fenn replied, grimacing.

“You don’t have to, you know. You could just stay in Kyr-Toryl, theoretically.”

Fennrin immediately shook his head, wrinkling his nose as if offended by the mere suggestion. “And leave you to face Orinovo alone?” He scoffed, narrowing his eyes. “Never.”

Ain smiled at that, though he almost wished Fennrin had said no. He wanted him with him. But even the possibility of Fenn dying made his heart hurt. Still, he had no doubts Fenn felt that same exact way, which was why he was saying that. But Ainreth didn’t doubt that Fenn also felt a responsibility as the strongest person in their arsenal to protect Lys-Akkaria.

Things went the same as before, with Varilik showing off his dumb power to create a small harvest of potatoes this time, which Ainreth hadn’t known he was strong enough to do, but seeing him do it before with wheat, corn, and anything in between, it wasn’t worth noting anymore.

Fenn did seem impressed by it still, much to Ain’s chagrin, but he didn’t think the shadowforger noticed that, so everything was good on that front.

What wasn’t good, though, was the moment when everything was over and they were about to move on. Because the Herald decided to make a public statement to the villagers who had gathered around him beyond the speeches he’d given at the other four settlements.

Ainreth hadn’t even tuned in until he heard Varilik talking about him. And Fenn.

“I was accompanied on this trip by our dear Daybreaker, as you all know, but also our shadowforger.” Ain could see Fenn tense up next to him, clearly expecting scorn, but no one really reacted that way. There wasn’t enthusiasm, for the most part, but neutrality was much better than what the reaction would have been just a few months ago.

“Fennrin, if you would,” Varilik said, waving him over, and Fenn followed, despite his clear hesitance as he set off very slowly, walking to where the Herald was standing in the middle of the village center.

Ainreth glowered when Varilik’s arm wrapped around Fenn’s shoulders, his fists clenched. Varilik shouldn’t be touching Fenn at all. Ever. Fenn was his.

Ain blinked, a little embarrassed for being so possessive. He really should calm down, but it was difficult when he had to bear witness to this.

“Fennrin here has been a wonderful asset, and he wants to continue being one. Our country has never been as protected as it is now. So don’t judge Fennrin for the actions of his ancestors. Instead, celebrate him for the blessing he is.”

Ainreth narrowed his eyes, never having disliked so much something he agreed with completely. Fenn was a blessing, but he didn’t want Varilik to call him that.

“Thank you,” Varilik said to Fenn directly, less loudly. And then did something that made Ain’s eyes go wide—he kissed his blighted cheek.

Ainreth almost seared a burning beam of light at Varilik, then, but he managed to control himself, instead marching over to him and pulling Fenn away from the Herald, ignoring his protests as he locked eyes with Varilik instead, the two glaring at each other.

“In case you haven’t noticed, your courtship, Fenn is not available, anymore.”

“Ain!” Fennrin hissed at him, sounding very irritated as he pulled himself out of the lightweaver’s hold, but Ainreth couldn’t focus on him, nor the crowd of people watching this drama. All he could focus on was glaring at Varilik, who now had his head titled quizzically.

“I was being polite. Expressing my thanks,” Varilik said, frowning in definitely fake confusion. Ain didn’t believe for one second that he was actually confused by any of this, and it made him furious. “You are overreacting, general.”

“This is Lys-Akkaria. Keep your Orinovan customs to yourself!”

The words came out before Ainreth could stop them, his eyes searching for Petre right after. And when he found them, he almost flinched at the hurt look on their face. Sunder, he never thought before speaking, did he?

Fennrin shook his head, walking off while Varilik huffed out a laugh, though his eyes were cold. “Apologies. I’ll make sure not to thank Fennrin again. I was not aware you had the monopoly on that.”

Ainreth just glared harder, really, really wanting to burn the man. But he held out, running after Fennrin instead, trying to catch up. But when he did, Fenn just shook his head at him and told him to leave him alone for a bit.

Having nothing else to do, Ain decided to mope for the remainder of their visit to the village, and also then eventually setting off for their trip to the border with Petre. Who was also angry with him.

Ain sighed. He’d really made a mess of things. And he couldn’t help but think Varilik had done it on purpose, too—set him up to get angry and possessive in front of a crowd. Blighted misborn.

Though even to himself, he was starting to sound paranoid. What would be the point of aggravating him like this? Aside from spite, at least. Maybe he really was reading too much into what Varilik did.

“I’m sorry,” he said to both of them, raising his voice so they heard him even though they were riding ahead of him. “I…didn’t mean to…upset, either of you.”

Petre let out a long sigh as they slowed down their horse so that they could ride next to Ainreth. Ain grimaced, looking at them, waiting for what they would say, not helped by the fact that Petre looked more tired than annoyed.

“Yeah, I know. You talk first, think second, it’s fine.” They rolled their eyes, but they did seem like they did forgive Ainreth. But Ain wasn’t having it.

“No, look, what I said what really rude. One of my moms is from Orinovo, too, you know? I…didn’t realize what I was saying until it was too late.”

He sighs, his shoulders sinking as he stares down miserably at Sunray’s head. He almost flinched when Petre patted his shoulder.

“It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean it. Just try not to insult my heritage too much.”

Ain nodded quickly, his guilt spiking at Petre saying it like that. But it was deserved. “I’ll…work on it.”

Fennrin joined them then as well, likely because things seemed calm now that Petre and Ain had spoken, the three of them riding next to each other, taking up most of the road. Not that it mattered—no one else was around here.

“I can appreciate how protective you are,” Fenn said, sighing. “But you can’t get jealous over everything.”

He sighed, nodding. He knew that. He did. And he was trying to keep himself in check. He just wasn’t used to being jealous since he’d never been in a committed relationship like this, and that incident with the assassin was mostly due to him being drunk. There was just something about Varilik specifically that made him so angry.

But saying that would just make it seem as though he was making excuses, so he kept it to himself.

“I’m sorry, Fenn.”

Fenn just hummed, giving him a single nod, saying nothing more but he didn’t leave his side. And when Ain reached his hand out to him, Fennrin did take it after a moment, squeezing, finally giving Ainreth the ability to breathe properly back.

Ain smiled a little, still feeling awful about what he’d done, but at least a little bit less. He would make it up to both of them, though he wasn’t sure yet how. Somehow that feat seemed more intimidating to him than fighting a war, though, which did somewhat help, in a strange way.

Orinovo could do its worst, but they’d fight them off like they always did. Ainreth was sure of that. And after they won, he and Fenn should go on a nice vacation somewhere.

Ainreth nodded to himself as the high border wall became visible in the distance. They had nothing to fear.