Break the Day (Nightstar Book 1)

Despite his sour mood about having to have been in the presence of Daryan Varilik, Ainreth was giddy about the rest of the day because now he got to spend time with Fenn. Fennrin said he wanted to look at those books about shadowforgers, which wouldn’t have been an activity Ain would have chosen—more interested in taking Fenn to an inn, maybe getting something for lunch—but honestly, he didn’t care that much as long as Fenn was present.

Ain couldn’t help but sneak glances at him whenever the other man wasn’t looking. He’d been handsome before, but thousand suns, now, with the new haircut and clothes, he was extra stunning, with the only thing marring his handsomeness was the fact that he was dangerously thin. But they would fix that, Ainreth would make sure of that.

One of Ainreth’s favorite things currently was seeing Fennrin’s short ponytail bounce as he walked, and hair falling in his eyes. Fenn usually batted it away swiftly, brushing it behind his ear, which was a shame, but it was still very cute. And now that Fenn’s hair was shorter at the front, it happened fairly often, so Ain was happy.

Ainreth found himself staring at the other man for minutes at a time, completely distracted. There was just something about Fennrin that had immediately drawn Ain to him. He hadn’t let himself stare too much until now since they’d had places to be, but now that he had nothing keeping him this, Ain couldn’t seem to stop.

“Ainreth.”

Ain blinked, only then realizing that Fennrin had said something, and he’d completely missed it. They were currently walking to the palace library. It was a good thing that Ainreth knew his way around the palace so well because with how little attention he was paying to anything other than Fennrin, they would definitely get lost.

“Hm?”

Fennrin narrowed his eyes, not looking very happy. Sunder. And the worst part was that Ain still thought he was incredibly attractive, looking at him like that. He needed to focus.

“I asked why you dislike the High Herald.”

Ainreth’s mood immediately took a turn, but even this conversation topic wasn’t enough for him to feel upset. Not when Fennrin was saying it. He was just too pretty to upset Ainreth ever.

“Oh. I’d rather not talk about that,” Ainreth said, feeling a little bad for not giving Fenn the answer he wanted, but if he were honest, he truly didn’t want to even think about Varilik. Ever since that man practically forced him to be a general—

Ain shook his head. No, he wouldn’t think about it. He wouldn’t let the blighted Herald ruin his mood right now.

“Oh. Right.”

Both Fennrin’s voice and face were neutral, but Ainreth could tell he was disappointed. Still, this was something he truly didn’t want to talk about. Maybe once he was tipsy. Maybe.

They walked in an awkward silence for a moment before walking up a flight of carpeted stairs and finally reaching the blighted door to the blighted library. Good, finally something else to talk about.

“Anyway, here’s the library,” Ainreth announced, tearing his eyes away from Fennrin for a moment to open the heavy, ornate door. They walked inside, Ainreth taking a sweeping glance at all of the bookshelves surrounding them. There were several rows on both sides, going up to the ceiling, with a line of tables for readers between every two of them. The bookshelves always made the library look dim, despite the many windows all around, but Ainreth didn’t mind that. As long as the sun was out, he could use his powers to light up things however he would please.

Now, where were the books about az-ari?

“Ainreth!” came a familiar call from behind them, both Ain and Fenn turned around to the door Ainreth hadn’t closed yet, only to come face to face with his second-in-command. Petre was trying to catch their breath as they raised the stack of papers they were holding, their messy, ginger hair even wilder than usual, their face red and sweaty as they stared up at Ainreth. “There’s…paperwork.” Petre drew a deep breath, pulling themself to their full height, which was still a head shorter than Ain. “For the shadowforger.”

Ainreth sighed. Right, of course. Cursed paperwork. But if Fenn was going to be housed here permanently, he needed to fill some things out so the government could keep track of him. Ainreth could understand that, though he didn’t understand why it had to be done now.

Still, probably better to get this out of the way. Petre could help them find the right books, too, since they were here now.

“Great,” Ainreth said, unable to hide the annoyance in his tone. He then looked at Fennrin, gesturing to Petre. “Fenn, this is my lieutenant, Petre Mar…Last Name.”

Fennrin’s eyebrows raised up, his lovely blue eyes going wide. He had probably not met many people with the Mar designation before. Fair enough, given the nowhere city Ain had found him in.

Petre sighed, rolling their eyes. “I’m Petre Mar-Harion. Nice to meet you.”

They adjusted their grip on the paperwork, thrusting out their hand for Fenn to shake, which he did as he threw a disbelieving look Ainreth’s way.

“How do you not know their last name if they are your second?”

Ain scowled, pouting. He didn’t like the accusatory tone in Fenn’s voice. So he wasn’t the best with names, so what? Aside from Fennrin’s, which he couldn’t get out of his head, even though the man’s parents had disowned him, and it had clearly made him uncomfortable to say it to the Bulwark.

“Look, I know a lot of people. I can’t remember everyone’s names.”

Fenn scowled harder, one of his eyebrows going up quizzically. Blight him, that hadn’t been the right thing to say. But it was true enough. They couldn’t blame him for that.

“It’s fine. This happens a lot,” Petre said to Fennrin, waving their arm dismissively. “So, if you wouldn’t mind, here is the paperwork—”

“You brought it, you deal with it,” Ainreth said, already turning around to the books again. “And you can help us find a book on shadowforgers since you’re already here.”

Petre gave a long sigh. “Sure. Not like I have anything better to do.”

“Exactly!” Ainreth replied, happy that Petre agreed before setting off. He turned right, walking down the corridor and scanning his eyes over the labels attached to the sides of the massive bookshelves, searching for any mentions of az-ari. Disappointingly, he reached the end of the row, not having found anything interesting, aside from a section about mushrooms, which while not interesting to him, would be enjoyable for Petre.

Huffing, he turned around, only to see Fennrin and Petre on the other side of the library, walking back toward him with three books in Fenn’s hands. Oh, the correct way to go had been left. This was exactly why he liked Petre so much. They were immensely helpful.

He made his way over to them, pushing past a couple conversing quietly as he followed Fenn and Petre to one of the tables near the door. “Good job, little guy!”

Fenn gave him a strange look as he sat down, but at least Petre seemed somewhat pleased at the term, as they usually were. Good.

Petre pulled up their reading glasses from where they had been hanging from their neck by a cord, putting them on their nose and peering down at the paperwork while Fennrin studied the cover of one of the books, this one titled Secrets of the Shadowforgers.

Ainreth wondered if he’d read that one. He’d had to read for many hours during his studies, but he barely remembered any of it. He was very curious what secrets the book’s title referred to. Then again, shadowforgers weren’t very common knowledge, so anything about them could be considered secrets. The only reason Ainreth knew anything about them was because they were the only type of az-ari that were as rare as him. Except while a lightweaver had died some fifty years before Ain had been born, there hadn’t been a known shadowforger for two centuries.

He watched Fenn’s fingers glide across the leather cover, clearly hesitating in opening it. Ain could vaguely hear Petre asking Fennrin questions for the paperwork, but he couldn’t hear them, too mesmerized by his hands.

He was only brought out of it when he felt a hand on his back. He flinched, turning to look at whoever was touching him, only to see the very attractive librarian he’d slept with some two weeks ago. But the man’s deep brown eyes, sharp jawline, and fluffy, fluffy hair did nothing for Ain now.

“Funny seeing you here, handsome,” the man said softly, grinning, apparently completely unbothered by the fact that Ainreth wasn’t alone. “I thought you said you didn’t read much.”

Ainreth huffed. He didn’t want to take part in this conversation at all. “I don’t.”

“Well, how about we do something else? Later.” Then the man whispered in his ear. “Preferably in your bed again.”

Ainreth wanted to roll his eyes. This was some weak flirting. “Don’t you have a job to get to? I’m sure the books care for your attention much more than I do.”

Hurt flashed across the man’s face, his cheeks growing red as he pulled away and glared at Ain, turning around and storming off. Ainreth shook his head. He hoped no one else at this library wanted to sleep with him because he wanted to focus.

When he looked back at Fenn and Petre, they were both looking at him strangely, but Ain decided to ignore that. “So, what is the book saying?”

Fennrin’s throat bobbed as he gripped the edge of the cover and opened the book, his eyes focused on the page. There was a large drawn portrait of a shadowforger from likely millennia ago. Ain couldn’t really read the book upside down, but why would they start with the most recent ones?

Fenn’s face went from intimidated to horrified as he read, reading aloud the line that had caused the reaction: “Known for setting the houses of the civilian population on fire.”

Ain grimaced. Off to a great start. He scratched the back of his neck. “Maybe skip that one.”

Fennrin went from one shadowforger to another, reading only what they were infamous for, from random murders to attempted genocide, his voice growing more and more upset until he pushed the book away, glaring at it. But despite the angry look, there was a deep hurt and fear in his eyes, one that Ainreth had noticed before, and one that Ainreth was determined to help him get rid of.

“Let me look,” he said, grabbing the book and paging through it. He didn’t like Varilik, but that didn’t mean that he had been wrong when he’d said there had been good shadowforgers. Ainreth was positive he’d read or heard about at least one.

He quickly paged through, skipping to the next shadowforger the moment he saw they’d committed atrocities, until finally finding a man from five centuries ago that didn’t seem to have any mayhem attached to his name.

“Aha!” he cried victoriously, finding the right passage. “Helped keep the peace by putting a stop to the Second Civil War, bringing a new age of prosperity. There, a good one.”

He turned the book back to Fenn, grinning at him. Fennrin didn’t seem very convinced, but he did study the page, his eyes flicking from one line to the next as he read.

“That is one not outright evil shadowforger in a sea of monsters,” Fennrin finally said, closing the book with a bit too much force, producing a loud crack. Ainreth watched the man’s shoulders sink, gloom written all over his features.

“Yeah, but it proves that it’s not inherent,” Ain quickly argued, trying to get Fenn to listen to him. When he didn’t respond, Ainreth quickly turned to Petre. “Hey, Petre, can you fetch a book like this about lightweavers?”

Petre didn’t argue, getting up and walking off and disappearing behind the bookshelves.

“I do not see how that’s going to help,” Fenn said, not looking away from the other books he’d brought with him. One of them was titled The Powers of Shadowforgers, which was definitely what they needed to show Fennrin how much he could do with his ability. But there would be no convincing Fenn to actually read it as long as he was worried he might become evil.

“You’ll see that not all of my ancestors were heroes.” Ainreth could off the top of his head think of two that weren’t. He had found those especially interesting when learning about himself and his history many years ago. Everyone always seemed to talk about lightweavers as these perfect people who had never done anything wrong, but it was just a convenient lie. He was living proof of that.

“Our power doesn’t define what we do, Fenn,” he continued, heaving a sigh as he looked down at the table, his hands clasped in front of him. “And besides, my greatest triumph was a mass murder of hundreds.”

Fennrin scoffed. “Those were soldiers.”

Ain felt his mouth form a bitter smile. Yeah. Soldiers. Like his best friend who— No, he was not going to think about it. He refused. “Soldiers are still people. Orinovo forcefully conscripts.”

“You saved Lys-Akkaria from being conquered by Orinovo,” Fenn argued back, and yes, he was right, he just didn’t have all of the information. Information that Ainreth wasn’t willing to give him. “However many lives were lost that day, you saved more.”

“Sure. But if a shadowforger did the same, they wouldn’t be seen as a hero, would they?” He locked eyes with Fennrin then, just in time to see the surprise on his face. Yeah, he hadn’t expected Ainreth to turn this on him like this, had he? “Because your power is dark and scary, and mine is shiny and nice.”

Ainreth rolled his eyes again. Those were actual words he’d heard people use.

He really hated sometimes how people treated him like he could do no wrong. He had done wrong, and yet no one was willing to accept it. Why burning people to ash wasn’t seen as horrifying just because it was paired with a blinding ray of light was beyond him. It always had been.

That was when Petre reappeared, a book in their hands, which they then handed Ainreth, sitting down.

“Thanks, little guy,” Ain said as he opened it, quickly paging through it. It didn’t take him long to find the woman he was looking for. He didn’t remember her name, but he did remember her picture still. He had never seen an angrier portrait in his life. “Here we go. Anerime Fyr-Rymal is known for the sadistic use of her powers, burning out the eyes of civilians and soldiers alike before burning them to death for hours.”

Ainreth looked back at Fenn, who was now pensively frowning at the book on shadowforger powers, while next to him Petre had their nose wrinkled in disgust. Good reaction.

“And there’s more, you know. It’s not just her,” Ainreth added, turning page after page, looking for others because he knew there were others. “Not to mention that things in these books are sometimes biased. I mean just look at anything written about me.”

“Right.” Fenn didn’t seem very happy, his eyes downcast and his face still gloomy, his hand on the book about shadowforger powers. Ainreth sighed, putting the book on lightweavers aside. He had meant to say something comforting, but as he stared down at the other’s fingers, he became too distracted to, feeling his hand moving, reaching out to Fennrin’s. He only realized what he’d done when his hand was touching Fenn’s, who tensed up immediately. Ain didn’t take it away, though. It was far too pleasant a feeling, far too right.

“Let’s look at what you can do, huh?” Ainreth suggested, smiling. “I’m not sure myself, but I’ve heard some amazing things.”

Fennrin’s cheeks were ever so slightly reddened as he gave a jerky nod, moving his hand in order to open the book. Ainreth immediately missed the touch, but he used the moment to pick up his chair and put it next to Fennrin’s, so they could read it together. For once Fennrin didn’t mention anything about his shadows being useless, which was good because it always made something in Ain die.

As it turned out, the first chapter did a great job of summarizing things because just on the first page it mentioned everything Ainreth had heard about along with a few more concepts. Modifying anything by changing its shadow, creating shadows, and most impressively—

“Becoming a shadow? I can do that?!” Fennrin almost cried, ducking his head when he realized how loud he had been. Ainreth had a hard time not getting lost in Fenn’s eyes again. Sun, he was adorable. “I just…. I’ve never heard of this.”

Fenn almost seemed a little lost as he ran a shaky hand through his hair. Ainreth yearned to hug him, but given how Fennrin had reacted to Ainreth touching him in the past, he decided to not do it just yet. “It gets better.”

Fenn turned back to the text, reading aloud. “In this shadow form, a shadowforger is invulnerable and swift. They can meld with the shadows of others, able to control their movements and inflict harm on them upon doing so.” Fennrin’s eyebrows flew up as he read this, still looking a little afraid and hesitant, but he also seemed intrigued. “The only limitation seems to be direct light. A shadowforger always needs to pass through shadows to move.”

“Yeah, see? I told you your powers are amazing,” Ain said, grinning ear to ear.

Petre hummed. “I imagine at night this would be very useful. Interesting.”

Oh, Ainreth hadn’t even considered that. Petre was so smart.

No wonder, then, that so many shadowforgers had committed mass killings. If they could become invulnerable while still being able to kill their victims, then there would be no way to defend themselves from them, certainly not when it was night. Arguably that was more powerful than what Ainreth could do, depending on how draining it was to be a murder shadow.

“I…. I don’t know how to do this,” Fennrin said, looking dismayed. This time Ain couldn’t help himself, putting one hand on the other man’s shoulder, which prompted him to look into Ainreth’s eyes.

“That’s what the training is for. You’ll get it. We can try tomorrow, how about that?”

Fennrin nodded, still looking a little unsure. But Ainreth had no doubts. He’d seen him create shadows, and he seemed to do it effortlessly, making complex shapes. He was sure the only reason Fenn didn’t know how to turn himself into a shadow was because he’d never tried it.

“Okay.” Fennrin visibly swallowed, nodding as he looked directly at Ainreth, determination in his eyes. “Okay. I would like to learn.” Then he ducked his gaze again. “If you are willing to teach me.”

Ain couldn’t stop himself, throwing his arms around Fenn and pulling him close with a grin on his face, even as the other man gasped in surprise and tensed up. This was going great so far.