Break the Day (Nightstar Book 1)

Fennrin frowned in concentration, shrinking the shadow of the pencil on the table in front of him, watching it lift off the wooden surface slowly, flying up further as he made the shadow smaller and smaller until it was levitating right in front of his face before he started making the shadow gradually bigger, letting it gently settle on the table again.

He’d been training how to modify shadows for a week now, among other things. He had wanted to start training sword fighting with Ainreth, but the man had assured him that there would be plenty of time for that, still, and that he should be focusing on putting on some weight.

Fennrin refused to just sit around and let himself be spoiled by whatever delicious food Ainreth brought to him, though, so instead he focused on learning to control his powers, figuring out what limitations he had, and so on.

So far he had learned that while turning into a shadow wasn’t too taxing, though it did exhaust him when he did it several times in a short amount of time, modifying shadows was a different matter. It took him far too much concentration to move things, which was why he was training with the pencil right now.

Destroying things was a different matter, though. The ease with which he had managed to destroy things from a stick to a rock was a little concerning, but Ainreth had assured him that this would just make it easier for him to protect him. And Fennrin supposed he agreed, even if he was still a little worried about it.

Though perhaps he was less worried about the ability, and more about how powerful it made him feel. But he pushed those feelings aside. As long as he didn’t lose sight of things, it would be fine.

Suddenly hearing a knock on the door, Fennrin rose to his feet, only then pausing. Should he even open the door? This was Ainreth’s house, and he wasn’t sure if there were boundaries to be overstepped since the man wasn’t home right now.

Hearing another knock, though, Fennrin shook his head. He was being silly. A lot of people knew he was staying at Ainreth’s house by now, not to mention that he knew where the lightweaver was right now, so he could direct whoever was at the door to him.

Walking to the door, he swung it open, only to find Petre standing there in their usual military uniform robes, now looking up at him. Fennrin immediately felt himself relax a little. Good, he liked Petre. Their calm nature was a nice contrast to Ainreth’s somewhat manic, chaotic one. Fennrin wondered if that was why Petre was Ainreth’s second because they looked far too young to be the lieutenant of a general.

He would have to ask about that later.

“Fennrin,” they greeted him in their usual dry manner.

“Hello.” Fennrin wondered if he should invite Petre inside, but they didn’t seem very interested in that, simply staying where they were standing. “Um, Ainreth is—”

“Yes, I know. I’m here for you. The Herald wants to talk to you.”

Fennrin immediately tensed up. “He…does?”

Petre shrugged. “He asked me to get you.”

Fennrin nodded, looking down at himself. He had new clothes, courtesy of Ainreth, of course, but he still felt underdressed to just go meet with the Herald. Still, he didn’t want to waste Petre’s time, so he just nodded and closed the door behind him.

Petre started leading him into the palace, and Fennrin was very glad for that because even after a week, he still had no sense of direction in this place. And he hadn’t even gone up to the other stories yet. The size of the place made him feel overwhelmed.

“So,” Petre said as they looked over their shoulder at Fenn, their hazel eyes burrowing a hole in Fennrin. “What do you think of Ain?”

Fennrin’s eyes widened as Petre turned back to where they were heading. He hadn’t been expecting that question at all. “He’s…a lot.” Then he blinked, realizing that even though it encompassed his feelings perfectly, it had come off as rather rude. “I am very grateful for everything he has done for me.”

Petre looked back at him, their expression perfectly neutral, and yet Fenn still felt judged. “Do you like him?”

Fennrin felt his cheeks grow warm. These were not questions he wanted to answer, especially not in front of all of the people they were passing as they went down a corridor. “Um. Yes.”

Petre hummed, saying nothing as they turned their attention to leading Fennrin to the Herald. Nothing was said during the rest of the trip, which only made Fennrin overthink more about why Petre had asked these things and what they could be thinking. But he was distracted from all of this when they reached their destination—a room made into a large greenhouse, with a very tall glass ceiling and even trees in it.

Fennrin had had no idea something like this existed in the palace. It was beautiful.

“He’s in there.”

Fennrin must have let his surprise show on his face because Petre shrugged again. “He’s a sproutkeeper, too.”

Oh, Fennrin hadn’t known that. He’d known the Herald was an az-ari given how long he’d served as the leader of Lys-Akkaria and still looked middle-aged, but he’d never known what type of az-ari.

Fennrin’s eyes widened as he suddenly realized what Petre must have meant with too. “Oh, are you a sproutkeeper?”

“Yes,” Petre replied, a hint of a proud smile in the curve of their lips. “The mushroom kind. Where did you think Ainreth gets his mushroom wine?”

Fennrin’s eyebrows flew up. “I didn’t know he drank that.”

“He does.”

Fennrin nodded. He hadn’t really seen Ainreth drinking much, though they had gone to a few taverns for a beer or two over the last week. He would have to ask about that. Mushroom wine wasn’t something he’d ever really heard about. He wondered how it tasted.

“Anyway, go ahead. I have to go deal with something else now,” Petre said, sighing, though they gave Fennrin a very subtle smile as they walked away. Fennrin truly hoped he would be able to navigate his way out of the palace afterward.

He took a deep breath, grasping the handle of the glass door leading into the greenhouse, walking in and clearing his throat in an attempt at announcing himself. The Herald would no doubt want to be briefed about Fennrin’s progress, given that the Herald was the only reason Fennrin was still in Kyr-Toryl. Hopefully, what he had done to improve his skill in using his power would be enough for the man.

Walking around the shelves full of potted plants, some exotic, some Fennrin had never seen before, he looked around, searching for the Herald. It didn’t take him too long to find the man, standing in front of a table with a book in hand, scowling down at a large, bulbous plant with thorns all over it. It looked shrunken in on itself, as if it didn’t have enough water.

Fennrin stopped as the Herald raised his hand, moving his fingers. And suddenly the plant filled out, perfectly round and healthy-looking. The Herald proceeded to put the book down and lean against the table, frowning harder as he looked more closely at it.

“Good afternoon, Fennrin,” the Herald suddenly said, making Fennrin flinch. But his shock quickly wore off when the other man looked at him, smiling. He ducked his head, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “How are you adjusting?”

Fennrin didn’t move, prompting the Herald to take a step away from his potted plant to look at him properly. “Uh, fine.”

“Good, I’m glad to hear that.”

Even though the man was being very friendly, Fennrin couldn’t shake the awkwardness threatening to choke him. He had no idea how to act around the Herald. He felt like every single movement he made was being scrutinized, and if he made the wrong one, without even realizing that it was, he would be banished.

It was ridiculous, but knowing that didn’t help him relax.

“I have a mission for you,” the Herald said, making Fennrin’s eyes bulge out. Mission? “But first I would like to see your ability to become a shadow, if you would indulge me.”

Fennrin took a deep breath, irritated with himself for being so nervous. He had no reason for it. “Yes, of course, sir.”

“Please, call me Daryan,” the older man said, his smile growing as he waved his hand at Fennrin’s surprise. “I don’t care much for these titles. They only serve to put distance between myself and the people I serve.”

“What about the other Courtiers?” asked Fennrin before he could stop himself. But Daryan didn’t seem annoyed with him as he chuckled.

“Well, they and I don’t agree on everything.”

The fact that Daryan didn’t continue was enough indication for Fennrin to drop the subject. Politics were so outside of his frame of reference that he would probably not understand anything anyway, even if the Herald decided to explain things.

Which meant that it was time to show the man his shadow form. There was a lot of stark light in the greenhouse, but that also meant that there were shadows around the table, and cast by the shelves, which should be enough.

Melding into his shadow, Fennrin moved under the table as Daryan let out a half-surprised, half-fascinated hum, only to make himself physical again behind the Herald. Daryan turned around without Fennrin having to announce himself, which wasn’t something he’d thought of before doing this, and now he was immensely glad he hadn’t had to do it as it would no doubt make things awkward again.

“Incredible,” the Herald said, a delighted grin on his face, fascination in his eyes. “Yes, this is going to be perfect.”

Fennrin frowned. “Perfect for what?”

Daryan nodded. “Oh, the mission I have for you. I would like for you and Ainreth to do a little reconnaissance over the border.”

Fennrin’s eyes widened once again, his mouth going dry. Behind the border? Wasn’t that incredibly dangerous, not only for him and Ainreth, but also because it could spark another conflict? But before he could voice any of this, Daryan continued.

“I am certain you already know Ainreth can become invisible.”

Oh. Fennrin vaguely remembered hearing about that, though he had dismissed it as just an attempt at glorifying the Daybreaker further. He hadn’t actually seen it. But he had seen him weave the image of a dragon out of light, so he didn’t doubt it one bit.

And so Fennrin just nodded, not confident in his ability to lie convincingly.

“If you can become a shadow indefinitely, that makes you an even better spy than that,” Daryan said, tapping a finger to his chin. “At least I heard you could do so indefinitely?”

Fennrin confirmed it, hoping that he was right. He hadn’t noticed any drain while in shadow form, but perhaps there was after a very long time? It was impossible to know, but hopefully, he would manage for however long this mission would take.

He still wasn’t sure if this was a good idea. He had gotten a little confident in using his powers, but it’s only been a week. Had he truly had enough training to manage? He didn’t want to doubt Daryan—the man had been in charge of Lys-Akkaria for decades, after all—but the man seemed to have a little too much faith in Fennrin.

Then again, during the night, nothing truly stopped him from going wherever he wanted to, so perhaps there was little risk, realistically.

“Unfortunately, you will have to do this during the day. The general’s powers do not work at night,” Daryan said, as if knowing exactly what Fennrin had been thinking. He hadn’t known about that either. He wondered if he would be the same way in a place with no shadows. He wasn’t sure how a place like that could exist or how it would work, but it was interesting to think about. “I would hate to send you alone, in case something goes wrong. And I cannot send anyone else but Ainreth with you, either, seeing as no one else at my disposal can remain undetected like the two of you.”

Fennrin nodded again, agreeing. He didn’t want to go alone, and he was glad Ainreth would be coming with him, but it would have been much easier for him to spy on Orinovo during the night. Still, he was hardly going to argue with Daryan. He knew the man was right.

“You have been getting along with Ainreth, I hear.”

Fennrin blinked at the sudden change of topic. Were people gossiping about the two of them so much that both Petre and the High Herald felt a need to ask? He didn’t want to discuss this a second time, but he also didn’t want to tell Daryan that. So he would have to soldier on through, he supposed.

“That is good, of course, and I would not bring it up, but I do feel a need to warn you that the general has a history of, hm.” The Herald paused, frowning in thought as if not sure how to word whatever he wanted to say. “Well, let’s just say he is not one for having long-term lovers.”

Fennrin’s whole face went red, even though he’d expected Daryan to go there. What else could he have said? But this was incredibly uncomfortable.

“None of my business, of course, but I felt it necessary to warn you if you plan on pursuing a—”

“No!” Fennrin practically squeaked, blushing harder as he stared at the floor. He wished he could disappear right now, but he didn’t think Daryan would appreciate that. “Uh, no, I am not planning on anything.”

“Hm, I see,” Daryan said, looking thoughtful. “Apologies, I have heard some rumors.”

Fennrin scowled. So there truly had been gossip. Though he supposed he should have seen that coming. Ainreth was famous, even to the people at the palace. And the two of them had been spending a lot of time together. Of course the people were going to talk.

That didn’t mean he had to like it, though. He couldn’t do much about it, as far as he knew, but he certainly didn’t appreciate it.

“I wanted to tell you something else, as well,” Daryan said, humming as he narrowed his eyes in thought. Almost immediately, his gaze cleared. “Oh yes, I noticed your discomfort when the Bulwark asked for your last name.”

Wonderful. From one uncomfortable topic to another. But before he could politely tell the Herald that he didn’t want to discuss this, the man continued.

“You know, I can have it stricken from your record. If you would like.”

Fennrin stared at him. He hadn’t expected that at all. But he couldn’t help but feel touched by the gesture. Daryan wasn’t even trying to find out why Fennrin had trouble with what used to be his family name. He didn’t seem to care beyond making Fennrin feel more at ease. And telling Fennrin about Ainreth’s…tendencies had also no doubt come from a place of concern for Fennrin’s emotional state.

Though he couldn’t help but wonder how much Ainreth tended to sleep around if it were such common knowledge. There had been the librarian from earlier, and a nobleman who had one day accosted them to express his heartbreak at Ainreth not accepting his offer of marriage, but Fennrin hadn’t seen the lightweaver even express interest in anyone, almost seeming annoyed when he was flirted with, in fact. But then, it had only been a week.

“Thank you. I would like that,” Fennrin finally said, his throat bobbing. His heart ached for the loss of his family name, but he had lost his family almost a decade ago. There was no going back, and he would like closure. “How much will I owe you?”

Daryan raised an eyebrow, looking a little confused. “Nothing, of course. It is a formality. I simply wish to somehow express my gratefulness for your willingness to help us. Not to mention your quick progress.”

Some part of Fennrin refused to believe it was as simple as Daryan claimed, the part that saw everything good as too good to be true. But then the events of the past week had been too good to be true, also. From meeting Ainreth, to coming here, to discovering his powers, all of it felt like a dream still. So he shook the feeling off, unwilling to give it any thought.

“Then yes, please.”

Daryan smiled, his green eyes warm and comforting. The effect the Herald had on Fennrin was rather strange, but he couldn’t help but like it. “Just Fennrin, then?”

The ache in his chest seemed to deepen at those words, but he also felt relieved. Yes, just Fennrin moving forward. “Yes.”

“I’ll deal with the matter as soon as possible.” Daryan nodded. “Oh, and do tell Ainreth to talk to his lieutenant about your mission details.”

When Fennrin frowned, suddenly confused about why he’d been told to come to see Daryan in the first place if Petre knew what they had to do, but the Herald explained it before he could ask, looking over to his strange, prickly plant, a somewhat embarrassed smile on his face.

“I admit, I invited you here to talk to you and see your shadowmelding, rather than tell you about the mission. I hope you don’t mind.”

Fennrin shrugged. Seeing as he’d had no idea why he’d been summoned in the first place, he could hardly say he felt lied to.

“You will do wonderfully. I have no doubts.”

Fennrin bowed his head, grateful for the Herald’s faith in him. He would do his best not to disappoint him.

When he met up with Ainreth, the man was gloomy, which was a first, and it was especially striking given his uniform robes being so bright. Fennrin couldn’t say he liked it, but when asked, Ainreth grumbled something about Daryan, and Fennrin decided not to press further.

Especially after the next thing Ainreth said.

“You know how to ride a horse, Fenn?”

Fennrin blinked, shocked by the implication that he would be borrowing a horse from somewhere, apparently. “Well, I did it last a decade ago. But yes?”

“Great. We’ll need to get you one to get to the border in a normal amount of time.”

Fennrin certainly hoped Ainreth wasn’t planning on buying him a horse. No matter how much Ainreth was paid for being a general, there was no way a horse wouldn’t take a sizeable chunk of his wage. The food and clothes were one thing, this would be too far.

“And where can we procure a horse?” asked Fenn as Ainreth started walking down to the city.

“The army, of course,” Ainreth said with a smile, though the usual spark in his eyes wasn’t present. Fennrin hoped he wasn’t upset that someone with barely any training was being sent on a mission with him. “We’ll get you a nice one. Wish you could just ride with me on Sunray, but I don’t think she can handle both of us for the entire trip.”

Somehow Fennrin didn’t think that Ainreth had said that to mean that it would be preferable because they wouldn’t have to get another horse. Daryan’s comment about Ainreth’s proclivities echoed in Fennrin’s head then, but he pushed that aside. Ainreth hadn’t been flirting with him. That much.

Actually, Fennrin had no idea. Ainreth had commented on his appearance quite a lot, but he hadn’t tried to go further than that. And Fennrin wasn’t sure if he wanted him to if Ainreth wasn’t interested in long-term relationships. But thinking about such things was hardly helpful, especially considering that he and Ainreth were now going to spend some time alone with no one else around for miles.

Maybe Fennrin would be more willing to approach the subject if he weren’t so dependent on Ainreth. But as it was, Fennrin was afraid of potentially upsetting Ainreth, so he would keep these thoughts to himself. If Ainreth wanted to, he could say something.

It took quite a while to reach the place Ainreth was leading him to, which turned out to indeed be a stable of the royal arms, their symbol of two crossed swords with a shield with the Lys-Akkarian dragon over them hanging above the entrance.

The building itself was made of brick with a wooden roof, but it was bigger than any stable Fennrin had ever seen before. It made sense, though. Almost everything in Kyr-Toryl was bigger than what he was used to.

There were two soldiers standing in front of the entrance, guarding it against whoever might attempt to steal a horse from the stable. Though once Ainreth marched over to them, they stepped aside, not even saying anything aside from greeting him, which Ainreth didn’t reply to, barging in. Fennrin followed with his head ducked, feeling more than a little awkward about this, but he decided to power through. The more he was around Ainreth, the more he learned how to handle this because it was a necessity.

Fennrin let his eyes wander over the dozens of horses standing in stalls all around him, marveling at all the different sizes and colors of them, going from the darkest black to the brightest white, and anything in between including spots.

There were many people in the stable tending to the horses, brushing them down, or simply petting their large heads.

Fennrin was about to wonder which one was Ainreth’s, seeing as he knew the lightweaver had come to visit her almost every day, but Fennrin hadn’t come along due to his still very present physical limitations, even though that had gotten better over the last week. But before he could ask, he found Ainreth reaching what seemed to be the blackest horse in the entire stable, immediately rubbing its forehead when the horse stuck its head out of the stall.

So this must have been Sunray. Certainly not how Fennrin had imagined her, given the name, though he had to admit, seeing Ainreth babytalk her was very adorable.

“Who’s the best horsie? You are!” Ainreth said, grinning ear to ear as the horse neighed. Fennrin felt his lips quirk up in a smile. The image was just far too adorable not to grin at, no matter what.

He waited for Ainreth to saddle Sunray before leading her out of her stall and to Fennrin. Sunray sniffed Fennrin immediately, pushing at his shoulder with her snout before grabbing his tunic with her teeth. Fennrin was too surprised to stop her as she started to munch, but thankfully Ainreth reacted immediately, pulling her away by her reins.

“Now, now, Ray, Fenn is not for eating,” he berated her, but he still brushed a hand over her forehead, lowering his voice to murmur as he continued. “No matter how delicious he looks.”

Fennrin frowned, not sure what that was supposed to mean. “What?”

Ainreth met his eyes, his gaze wide and his cheeks flushed. “Uh. Let’s go find you a horse, huh?”

The lightweaver zipped past him, Sunray following, leaving Fennrin with no choice but to go after them, deciding to ignore Ainreth’s earlier comment in favor of focusing on the task at hand. He had no idea how Ainreth could tell which horse was available as the man walked past numerous stalls before stopping in front of a tall, black horse with white spots all over it.

Sunray snorted, staring the other horse down, to which it snorted right back.

“Don’t fight, girls, come on,” Ainreth grumbled, patting Sunray’s side before looking over his shoulder at Fennrin. “What do you think?”

Fennrin hadn’t been aware he could choose, and he certainly didn’t want to seem ungrateful by even considering this horse wasn’t good enough for him, so he stepped forward, leaning on the door to the stall to properly study the horse.

Finally, he noticed a small wooden tablet next to the stall giving information about the horses, figuring that must have been how Ainreth had been able to differ from which horse was available. There was a line about her owner, which was left blank. It didn’t say her name, but it did mention her sex, her speed, strength, and endurance, and age. Apparently, she was three years old, which was fairly young for a horse, at least from what Fennrin knew. Perhaps she was simply new, and that was why she didn’t belong to anyone yet.

The horse leaned forward, sniffing his hair before shaking her head, making her white mane fly. Fennrin hoped that wasn’t her rejecting him immediately.

“Ah, she likes you,” said Ainreth, continuing to pet Sunray. As if the horse would get grumpy once more if he stopped for one second.

“How can you tell?” Fennrin asked, very curious how much Ainreth knew about horses. He seemed to certainly have a soft spot for his own.

Ainreth grinned, shaking his head as if Fennrin was asking a silly question. “You’re impossible to dislike. So….”

Fennrin would have argued that until now no one had liked him, but then the Daybreaker himself seemed to like him. And so did the Herald. So he must have been doing something right, whatever that was. Perhaps it was simply the two men not assuming the worst of him simply for being a shadowforger.

Fennrin looked back at the horse, gingerly raising his hand to pet her. The horse snorted, pressing her head into his hand as his finger came in contact with her fur, flicking her tail.

Good, at least she wasn’t trying to bite him.

“Great, looks like it’s decided,” Ainreth said, giving Fennrin a very happy grin. “Do you want me to saddle her for you?”

Fennrin wanted to refuse, already feeling like being allowed to borrow this horse was too much, but he had never saddled a horse. For both her sake and his own, he should let Ainreth do this. And so he nodded gratefully, thanking him. Ainreth gave Fennrin Sunray’s reins and opened the door to the stall, walking in, quickly readying the horse for the journey.

“Oh, we forgot to pack supplies,” Fennrin suddenly realized, forgetting what a trip like this was going to involve. But Ainreth just shot him another grin.

“Fenn, a general doesn’t pack his own bags. The other people do that for me, and by proxy, for you.”

Oh. Fennrin hadn’t really thought of that. But he supposed it made sense. Because surely if packing had been necessary, Ainreth would have already done that before leaving the house.

Now bridled and saddled, Ainreth led the new horse out of her stall, handing the reins to Fennrin, and taking Sunray’s back. Fennrin and the horse looked at each other. She was very large, he realized now that she was outside of the stall, and Fennrin found her just a little intimidating with how her head towered over him, but the horse seemed friendly, so he wouldn’t let that intimidate him.

With this done, Ainreth started to lead Sunray outside, and Fennrin followed, his horse obeying his pull without a single argument. It was so strange to be near a horse again, after such a long time. Fennrin truly hoped he remembered how to ride one well enough not to embarrass himself.

Just as they left the stable, Fennrin noticed Petre walking toward them, two large satchels thrown over their shoulders, as well as two bedrolls in their arms. They didn’t look very happy as they reached them, handing Fennrin one of the bags and a bedroll, which Fennrin took with a thank you, before giving the other two to Ainreth.

“That should be everything you’ll need,” Petre said. “And some things you don’t need but want. Don’t drink it at once, Ain.”

Ainreth immediately started to rummage through the satchel, letting go of Sunray’s reins and putting the bedroll under his arm, before making a victorious whoop. “Aw, my favorite!” Then he blinked as he rummaged further. “And ham! You shouldn’t have, Petre.”

Petre sighed. “You’re right, I shouldn’t have.”

Ainreth sniggered, throwing the satchel over his shoulder before hugging Petre with his free arm. “I love you too, little guy.”

Despite their face not even reaching Ainreth’s shoulder, Petre hugged back easily, much to Fennrin’s surprise. He had been certain that Petre cared about their commander, but he’d had no idea that it was this much.

“Just come back alive.” Petre looked over at Fennrin also once they let go, pulling away. Fennrin nodded at them. He would do his best to protect Ainreth. It was the reason he was here, after all.

Ainreth clicked his tongue. “Pretty sure I’m the one who’s giving orders here.”

Petre sighed again, shaking their head. But there was an undeniable smile on their lips. Seeing all of this made Fennrin’s heart swell. Apparently, he’d been wrong about how much affection the two had for each other. It was nice to see Ainreth truly happy.

Then Ainreth spoke again, a much more serious tone this time: “Thanks, Petre. We’ll be careful.”

Petre nodded, looking satisfied. And so was Fennrin. It was nice to hear that. Hopefully, it meant that Ainreth wouldn’t rush into anything. Fennrin didn’t even want to consider what might happen if Ainreth got hurt, or worse. Beyond intensely not wanting it to happen simply because he liked Ainreth, there was also the fact that Ainreth getting injured would be a failure at his job of being his bodyguard.

But this was simply a scouting mission. With their abilities, they would manage to gather information without being seen once. And Fennrin would repeat this to himself as many times as he needed to make sure he would be calm while doing it. He couldn’t afford to make a single mistake.