by S. K. Sayari
Seya turned to her companion who had freed herself from pack and shield and was now stringing her longbow.
“I must begin. I do not know how long this will take, nor entirely what it may entail.”
The young woman nodded. “No matter, sire. I am your champion. I shall guard you, guide you, lend you whatever skill and strength I may have.”
“Thank you, but all I need now is for you to wait as I do what must be done.”
“As you wish.” Nylah looked at her, suddenly serious. “May I ask what it is you are going to do?”
“You may.” Seya nodded. “I am going to sing. To heal the lands, renew the Source, and end the war.”
The young woman bowed low. “Then I wish you well, Sovereign. May your Song be true.”
Seya smiled, to hear the old blessing. It was right. She gave Nylah one last nod, then headed into the trees, seeking the Source.
Seya gasped as the music built and built, until it was near more than she could hold, the rhythm ringing through her bones, the Song falling from her lips and rising toward perfection, each strand she held now shimmering, soaring, into one shining, heavenly crescendo. Her feet, bare, curled into the moss around the pool as she circled inward, faster and faster, lifting her arms, her voice pure and sweet, holding the notes high as she turned toward the Sourcespring—it turned toward her, reaching, needing the Song, thirsting for it. Yes. She took the last step, and stopped, facing the water. One final breath, one last long note—and then something struck her in the back. The strands, held so perfectly, jolted; the clarion chorus wavered.
Pain bloomed then, or fire, she was not certain. She opened her eyes and looked down, surprised to see the bloodied head of an arrow protruding from her breast. She tried to breathe, tried to hold the last note, but her breath failed. The Song faltered. Fled. And then she fell, face down into the pool, her lifeblood joining the stale water. The strands of discord, freed from her grasp, plunged in after, a tangled cacophony of chaos—clashing, crashing, sinking. Down with her into the dark.
The woman who had for a long time been called Nylah knelt on the sand as she unstrung her bow. It had been a good shot. Clean, she’d made certain. There’d been no need to make the Singer suffer. And no orders to. She’d been Vrenian after all, like herself. She stood up, shrugged on pack and quiver, and took one last look around the island. Curious, how silent it was, now the singing was gone.
That Song had been beautiful. Sad, and heart-achingly lovely. As she’d listened, she swore she’d been able to hear more than just the one voice. It was eerie. No one should hold that kind of power. She’d done the Three Lands a favour. Now Vrenia would prevail, and soon there would be one land, with no Singers to interfere.
She nodded to herself. Better get back to the boat. As she waded away, she looked back and was surprised to see the island shrouded in mist again. Yet this time the mist seemed to be full of shadows. Reaching, twisting shadows that swallowed all light, all sound. Shadows that were moving with purpose toward the shore. Toward her.
Fear curled into her throat as she rushed into the water, but where before it had been waist high, now it grew deeper, and deeper still, until she wasn’t wading, but swimming, and then something cold curled around her outstretched arm, and another something around her waist, tearing her with sudden force up and out of the water. She screamed—or tried to—as the cold that held her curled tighter and tighter, crushing the breath from her lungs. Her heart pounded hard as she kicked and struggled—but the cold only held on, crushing her in its icy arms. She fought to see what had her as her vision blurred to red, but all she could see was shadow. Darkness.
She felt pain then, all across her skin, as if a thousand bees stung at once—and then felt only an oddly pleasant sensation. She couldn’t think what it reminded her of. For some reason, to her mind came an image of a babe, suckling at its mother’s breast. She dully wondered why, as her heartbeat faltered. Faded.
And then she was falling, to land against something wet. Cold. Sand. The island’s shore.
She stared, cheek down on the sand, across where the lake should have been. Except now there was no lake. Instead, she lay dying at the edge of an impossible abyss, itself infested with swarming, twisting shadows; shadows that branched out across the Three Lands, dark strands that hummed with terrible hunger as they reached: wanting, drinking, taking.
Leaving only silence.
Blood of the Stars
S. K. Sayari
Nadine sat stiffly in her chair, pecking at the food on her plate: braised duck, charred vegetables, and some sort of disgusting, mushy greens. Celestials didn’t even need to consume food; the very act of eating was pointless.
Brynna, on the other hand, daintily placed a vegetable in her mouth with her fork, smiling at the Sol Elf who sat across from her. He wore a crown of thorns and roses, his auburn hair braided and his ears tapered at the tips. Brynna sharply contrasted his Elven features—her hair as dark as a raven’s feathers, skin as pale as pearls, and lips a soft pink. When Brynna’s plate was spotless, the Elf offered her a hand and she took it with pink cheeks and a slight giggle, letting him lead her to the center of the ballroom. Many other pairs were already waltzing, and Brynna and the Elf joined them, swaying to the lilting melody.
Nadine resisted the urge to gag. Filthy Elves, all they ever did was fight each other. Their power waxed and waned with the Sun and Moon’s cycle, but during the last Eclipse—when both Elf races had been at the height of their power—they’d slaughtered each other. Now, during The Lady of the Sky’s Feast of Millennial Peace, they behaved.
But for how long?
She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. The Sol and Luna Elves would cause some sort of commotion during the seven-day, seven-night feast. There was no doubt about it.
A small-nosed Luna Elf with rouge-painted cheeks approached Nadine, bashfully rubbing the back of his neck. If he dared to ask her, the Keeper of the Sun, to dance—
“Would you like to—?”
“No.” Base creatures deserved nothing but her hatred.
The Elf’s shoulders drooped, and he nodded before making his way to his next target, a straw-haired she-Elf.
“You don’t need to be so surly,” murmured Nadine’s mother.
To Nadine, her mother was the very image of beauty and grace. The stars shone in her eyes, and her skin radiated light itself; a crown inlaid with azure jewels rested on her silvery hair.
The Lady of the Sky clicked her tongue. “You should enjoy yourself.”
“Ah, yes, enjoy myself in the company of savages,” muttered Nadine.
“You always were such a grumpy child. Brynna’s the nice one.”
“And you always were such an overbearing parent.”
Nadine and her mother locked gazes, and they burst into laughter.
“I like it when it’s just us. You, me, and Brynna,” said Nadine, her voice sounding smaller than usual. “I don’t want things to change. Ever.”
The Lady of the Sky smiled, the gesture reaching her eyes, the stars within them twinkling brightly.
“Then so it shall be.”
Nadine sat in her chambers, running the teeth of a wooden comb through her pearly hair. Each strand had to be brushed smooth or it would irritate her. She was relieved to have a short break from the ball—thankfully, it was almost over with. There were only two days and three nights left. So far, the Elves had been pleasant enough. They hadn’t begun fighting with one another…yet.
Shouting erupted outside, and Nadine leaped to her feet. Bounding toward her door, she opened it to see a red-faced Brynna, tears streaking her face, storming out of their mother’s chambers.
Nadine reached out for her sister’s arm as she passed but hesitated. Never, since they had been created of stardust, had Brynna fought with their mother.
Gingerly stepping toward their mother’s chambers, Nadine peeked inside. For the first time in millennia, the Lady of the Sky looked tired. The stars w
ithin her eyes were dull, and lines creased the skin underneath her eyes and around her mouth.
“What was that about?” asked Nadine.
“It is nothing, my child. Come; sit with me.”
Nadine plopped down onto the bed, cuddling into her mother’s side. “What’s wrong, Mother?”
“Are you happy, my dear Nadine?”
“Of course, Mother! Why do you ask?”
The Lady of the Sky sighed. “It is nothing. I hope I am the mother you both deserve, regardless of how strict I am with you in your duties. The Sun and Moon must rise and fall each day and night. If you were to be lax in your duties, the Elves would suffer.”
Nadine chewed at her lip. The Elves of each race leeched their energy from the Moon and Sun. If one race were to absorb more light and become more powerful, they would destroy the other. Not that she cared whether they lived or not. She only cared to make her mother happy.
The Lady of the Sky sniffled. “I just hope you know that I love you.”
Nadine nodded and wrapped her arms around her mother. “I know, Mother. I know, and I love you too.”
The metallic smell of blood caught Nadine’s attention as she walked through the Sky Temple on the seventh night of the feast. She muttered a curse and grabbed her golden sunstaff, pursing her lips. The Elves must have finally broken out in a fight, and now she would have to clean up their mess. Nadine shook her head. Mother should have known better than to host this ball.
She followed the scent, which grew stronger with each step. Water flowed freely through deep grooves in the opalescent stone, cascading down the edges of the temple and turning to fine mist in the air. Gnarled trees reached up for the clouds above, their leaves a perpetual waxy jade. The stone, cool and smooth against Nadine’s feet, was riddled with spongy moss.
The crimson stain in the moss near Mother’s chambers took Nadine’s breath away and set her heart racing. Her fingers shook as she took one step forward, then another, until she reached the door.
Inside, her mother lay face down in a pool of blood.
Nadine’s vision swam, and she crumbled to the floor. Was the world spinning, or was she spinning? Or was it both?
It couldn’t be possible. It had to be false.
Screams pierced her ears, yet they seemed distant and otherworldly. Nadine didn’t realize she was being shaken until fingers dug into her shoulders like a snake biting into flesh.
“—dine. Nadine! Calm down!”
Nadine looked up, her vision blurred with tears, to see a watery Brynna with a furrowed brow. Brynna wiped away Nadine’s tears, hushing her and stroking her cheeks.
“How are you so calm?” whispered Nadine. She shuddered at her sister’s touch, icy cold.
Brynna blinked. “I’m very upset right now. But it’s not the time to panic. We must—”
“Find who did this!” Fire ripped through Nadine’s gut, spreading to her limbs, scorching her shattered heart. It was the Elves. They had done this.
It had to be them.
“We must make sure everyone else is safe,” said Brynna, stroking Nadine’s hair.
“Who cares about the Elves? They’re the ones who did this!” Nadine’s chest twinged with pain. It was as if Brynna didn’t care for their mother at all. Nadine narrowed her eyes, clenching her fists. “Did you know anything about this? Did you?”
“Nadine, you must be calm.”
With a shaky breath, Nadine bit down on her tongue until she tasted blood. Swallowing, she looked up at Brynna, unable to keep hot tears from spilling forth.
“We must promise to find Mother’s killer. No matter what it takes! Promise me, Brynna.”
Brynna opened her mouth, hesitating. “I—I don’t know—”
“Brynna!”
“I swear,” muttered Brynna.
Nadine nodded and rose to her feet, wobbling. “Now that our mother is dead…” she whispered, her voice growing louder as each word was spoken. “Now that she is gone, I will reign over the Sky Temple.”
“I will not object to that,” said Brynna, lowering her head.
Nadine swallowed again. Could she ever fill her mother’s position as Lady of the Sky? Doubt crept through her body, sending shivers up her spine.
“As long as you grant me one wish,” murmured Brynna.
Nadine blinked. A wish? “And what is that?”
“I want to live below…with the Elves.”
Bile rose in Nadine’s throat. “Absolutely not.”
Brynna’s pallid cheeks turned even more ashen, her lips trembling. “Why? Can you not give me at least this? Is this about duty? Because—”
“Duty?” hissed Nadine. “No, this isn’t about duty—the Elves can rot for all I care. This is about us. You and me. We are all each other has left now that Mother is gone. Did you really think I’d grant you such a preposterous wish?”
Brynna closed her eyes. “Fine. Have it your way.” With a huff, she turned and left, leaving Nadine to attend to the body.
Burrowing her head into her sheets, Nadine let the tears she’d been holding flow freely. She had spent the whole day kicking each and every Elf out of the Sky Temple, raking the rooms to make sure not a single wretch remained. Now, after hours of tossing and turning in her bed, she still couldn’t sleep.
She wished she could hold her breath until she stopped breathing. The loss of her mother had broken her spirit, numbed her body. She remembered the stagnant stars in her mother’s glassy eyes, and wept.
But she had to live. She had to find who’d killed her mother.
A slight rustle froze her, fear tickling her fingertips like spiders biting into her skin. Muffled footsteps padded closer—the footsteps of someone trying very hard to not be noticed. Nadine tensed in her bedding. An Elf assassin. She would destroy it.
A vice-like grip suddenly wrapped around Nadine’s mouth, muting her cry. Nadine thrashed, her foot hitting flesh. The grip on her hair loosened, and Nadine leaped out of her bed and at the intruder. Wrapped in a cloak and armed with a knife, the assassin hissed as their bodies collided.
She grappled with the dark figure, wrestling for the knife. A knee to their stomach was all it took for her assailant to double over, wheezing. Nadine snatched the weapon and ripped their cloak off. She almost screamed in shock, the knife slipping from her grasp. It clattered in the silence, deafening to her ears.
Brynna!
Her sister’s expression was like stone—unyielding, unwavering. She stepped toward Nadine, her eyes flickering toward the knife.
Nadine’s breath came quicker, and she followed her sister’s gaze. The weapon was well within reach, but she would leave her side vulnerable if she lunged for it. She didn’t know what Brynna was capable of at this point.
“What the damned are you doing?” she hissed.
Brynna opened her mouth, darkness flashing across her eyes, but then she stepped back. Sweat beaded her forehead, her eyes swimming with hesitation. “You don’t understand. Neither did Mother! That’s…that’s why.…”
“Treacherous swine,” snarled Nadine as realization sank in. “I’ll have your head!”
Resolve set Brynna’s expression back to stone, and she jerked, taking a step forward. “My head? You don’t even—”
“You murdered your mother, tried to murder your own sister…so you could be with a filthy Elf?” The very thought threatened to drive Nadine mad.
“I’ve never felt this way about anyone or anything before! I love him!”
Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic. “That’s your excuse? You love that Elf more than me? More than your own mother?”
“She wasn’t our mother! She created us, gave us no will, and forced us to obey her,” insisted Brynna, her voice hoarse.
Nadine screeched and leaped toward the knife. Brynna did the same, but Nadine was faster; snatching the weapon, she whipped her arm outward. Brynna gasped and stumbled back, and Nadine sprinted at her. Again the two wrestled, the knife slipping from Nadine’s gras
p. Brynna went for it, and Nadine took the chance to wrap her hand around her sister’s throat, smashing her head down onto stone.
Dazed, Brynna uttered a garbled cry for help, but Nadine did not stop. She scrambled for the knife and slammed it down into Brynna’s heart. The Moon Keeper’s mouth twisted into a grimace, her body jerking and eyes rolling into the back of her head—then she lay still.
Nadine’s mouth went dry, the musty stench of death permeating her senses. A sob wracked her body as she unfurled her hand from Brynna’s neck. How had it come to this? How had she killed her own sister?
“I’m sorry. Brynna, I’m sorry. Wake up, please. Don’t leave me like Mother did. Who will help me keep the Elves under control if you can’t sing to the Moon?”
Brynna stayed silent, her eyes glassy and unseeing. Nadine brought trembling hands to her mouth and whimpered. What had she done?
Bile surged from the pit of her stomach, her vision throbbing red. The Elves were to blame. This was their fault. Brynna’s death, their mother’s death.…
All of it.
Panting, Nadine rose, the bloody knife still within her grasp. Trudging through the Sky Temple, she made her way to the sanctum.
She raised her hands, taking a moment to clear her throat. When she began to sing, her voice was harsh and choppy, unlike the smooth, sweet notes she usually produced. The Sun responded to her anger and grief, its light vibrating with intensity, blinding her. Then, with a trembling breath, she slashed her arms downward, almost screaming her song. The Sun pulsed, then fell, colliding with the Realm of Elves. As the light grew, expanding, flames licking up to the Sky Temple itself, Nadine raised her arms to the sky once more.
She would burn, and the world would burn with her.
When the Moon betrayed the Sun,