Author's Preface
Solana: Lady Saralynne Dawnflare was the fourth Dawnflare to preside over the city-state of Rhobair and its surrounding territory. Prior to her mother’s retirement, she was an adventurer. I have a list of her accomplishments, if you’d like to hear them.
Merkra: You know I would.
Solana: She and her party defeated Firrol the White. The eldest known dragon to be defeated in combat. It’s skull is displayed to this day in Warden’s Keep. She and her wife cleared and mapped the way through Monarch’s Forest and Wyrm’s Gap to provide a proper trade route without the need of airships to Drakor. Monarch’s forest had previously been untraversable due to the extremely high density of monsters. One of her titles is Liberator of the Iron Coast. She and her party swept along the far side of Brimmark and eradicated the pirates and slavers that based themselves there, freeing every slave they found.
Merkra: Phoenix above, I think I get it. She’s an absolute unit of a woman.
Solana: Oh, I haven’t gotten to my favorite one yet. When she retired from adventuring she established a school where her party trained other adventurers. She even named it after the party. Guess what it was called.
Merkra: What?
Solana: Morgok’s Adventuring Academy.
Merkra: Excuse me?
Solana: Do you know how hard it is to track the Titanblood family lines? You all should really get better at record keeping.
Merkra: I don’t understand. My dad wasn’t two thousand years old when he died.
Solana: He was not, but Morgok is not a very common name. So I dug a little deeper. Are you aware that you are the first male in your line to not be named Morgok in over twenty-three generations? It’s honestly very confusing. Some of these men had twelve sons. All Morgok.
Merkra: Hold on, what are you saying?
Solana: That you have a direct connection to Lady Saralynne Dawnflare. Morgok Grommash, or if you want to use is proper title—Morgok the Liberator—was a member of her adventuring party.
*long pause*
Solana: Merk? Are you alright?
Merkra: I…I want to make sure I understand. You’re telling me that my great-great-however many times it goes-grandfather what? Traveled around with a famous hero and helped her fight monsters? Save people?
Solana: No, I’m telling you Morgok Grommash was a famous hero. Look. There is a statue of him outside Warden’s Keep.
long pause followed by a deep, shuddering breath
Merkra: Whew…you mind taking over the story for a minute? I just need a…bathroom.
Solana: Yes, of course.
Atania did not have time to babysit, but when the king asked you to do something, it wasn’t as simple as declining. She needed to be working on a plan. Before a plan, she needed to know just how far she could push her moral limits before they broke. Instead of toiling over her own struggles and working through them, she was here. Following Fletcher Sterling Lightfoot while he was no doubt flirting with someone miles beyond his station.
She kept her distance. There weren’t any specifics as to what she was supposed to be looking for. Just follow them and keep an eye out for anything out of the ordinary. She couldn’t vanish like Gregor, so distance and a casual pace were key. As they were approaching the entrance gate, the woman he walked with glanced over at her.
Right at her.
Like she knew she was being followed.
She said something to Fletcher, and he peaked around the dignitary. He grinned that big, stupid grin when he spotted her. She tried to ignore his beckoning wave, but as with most things with the paragon of irritating little men, it was impossible.
“Atania!” Fletcher yelled out. “Come here, I want to introduce you to someone!”
Heat rose in her cheeks and she rubbed at them and tried to force away the feeling that only Fletcher seemed to be able to draw out of her. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before heading toward the pair of them. Her feet continued to carry her forward, but the sudden realization that the woman Fletcher was talking to was a Deviltouched as well completely stopped any hope of coherent thought.
She exuded a confidence that Atania had never dared imagine in herself. It wasn’t the stoic, uncaring aura that she carried, or the pure insanity of someone like Penelope. That wasn’t it, though. It was like someone had given her permission to exist without limit. To wield power without fear of what it would make her.
“Atania, this is Lady Saralynne Dawnflare. Head of the Thirteen.” Fletcher introduced them.
“A pleasure to meet you, Atania.” White pupils in pools of blood red locked on her, and she offered an unexpectedly warm smile.
The lady and Fletcher came to a stop when she got to them. The dozen guards closed in, but Atania barely noticed.
An Elf. Like her.
Deviltouched. Like her.
The strapless dress showed off her muscled shoulders and arms. Scars littered her skin from cheek to wrist. She wore an elaborate sword on her hip, and judging by the sweat-darkened leather wrap around the hilt, it was no decoration.
“Atania,” Fletcher’s voice snapped her out of her daze. “You alright?”
“Yes, sorry.” Atania took the woman’s offered hand. “A pleasure to meet you.” Her palm was warm, calloused. The hand of a warrior, not a queen.
Lady Dawnflare didn’t let go, even brought the other up to enclose it in her grip. She didn’t speak. She didn’t need to. Her knowing gaze said the elf, some thirty years her elder, had deducted her feelings before Atania had the time to process them herself.
“How did you and Fletcher meet?”
The lady turned toward the castle walls and gave a nod to one of her guards. The loose circle tightened around them, and they started to move toward the gates again, hand in hand.
“It’s a long story.” Atania said quietly. “I’m sure he’d love to tell it.”
“I do love to tell it.” Fletcher admitted, but the lady held a finger up to silence him.
“I’ve listened to far too many words from Fletcher Lightfoot in my day.” She said with the slightest grin. “I’d like to hear some from Atania.”
“Oh,” she glanced over at Fletcher, who, to his credit, just smiled up at them after being silenced with the slightest motion. If only she’d known it was that easy. “He tried to talk to me in a tavern I was guarding one night. I ignored him for the most part, though he makes it very hard to do so. Then, I was in a bad way a few days later on the road back into town. He helped me get back to Raven’s Crest.”
“Not how I would tell it.” Fletcher said under his breath, which garnered the slowest glance from Lady Dawnflare. “Sorry.” He held up his hands.
“You were injured?” The lady turned her head back to her.
“I was. Fletcher got me stable enough to get to a healer.” Atania couldn’t keep her eyes off the woman. The sound of waves crashing against the rocky beach, the quiet chatter of the other dignitaries, even the sight of the rapidly approaching castle walls all blurred behind her.
“Had there been competent healers anywhere but this island, that would not have been a problem.” The lady glanced over her shoulder at the castle then back to Atania. “Myself and your king have a number of things we don’t agree on.”
Atania’s instinct was to recoil at that, but when the Ashorian leader kept her head held high…she hesitated. Her fearlessness didn’t stem from ignorance. The lady knew where she was, yet held her head high in defiance. They chatted as if they were old acquaintances from the castle walls all the way to the docks.
“I don’t imagine I will be back on this side of the globe. Not in a peaceful capacity, at least.” The lady turned to her as they stopped in front of the Ashorian ship. “May I offer you a bit of advice, Atania?”
“Sure.” Atania stood awestruck.
“I understand that this is the only life you’ve ever known,” she said, glancing past her from where they just left. “It’s not the only one out there, though. My suggestion would be to find another. I don’t want to return here, your enemy.” The lady brought Atania’s hand to her lips and gently kissed her knuckles. “Be safe, my dear.”
Atania couldn’t move. The guards closed ranks around Lady Saralynne Dawnflare as she ascended the plank, sunlight catching the scars across her bare shoulders like bronze cartography mapping out memories of battles. Strength and ease lived in the same body. Something Atania had never thought possible. A breath shuddered out of her, and the ache in her chest deepened into a yearning she had no name for. Atania had lived her life behind locked doors; this woman strode through them without slowing.
“Now that’s an impressive woman.” Benicio’s sourceless voice sounded. “Too bad I’m dead, I’d be slipping on that ship before she took off.”
“Idiot,” Atania scoffed, rolling her eyes.
“Sorry?” Fletcher glanced up at her, eyebrow raised.
“Huh? Not you…” She hooked her thumb over her shoulder, then hesitated. Benicio wasn’t there. “Sorry.” Atania swallowed against a sudden pit in her throat and pointed toward the ship heading to the mainland. “Let’s get you on board.”
There had always been whispers of other Deviltouched in distant lands. Those like her that weren’t trained soldiers. Mercenaries. Adventurers. Thieves. Never had she imagined politicians. What else were there? Just normal people? Bakers? Fisherman? Farmers?!
Atania leaned against the ship’s guardrails. She could feel Fletcher’s eyes on her, but revelation overwhelmed any annoyance. His silence as they crossed the strait was entirely surprising, but appreciated. Only as the ship slid into dock, he finally spoke.
“Are you alright?” He glanced around as if to make sure no one could overhear them.
Was she? Fuck. What a question.
“Fine,” she said with a nod and walked him to the gangplank.
Fletcher froze at the top of the ramp, looking up at her again. “I was gonna go for a walk along the beach.” He glanced to the side as the navy man who had dropped the plank meandered away from them. “Did you wanna come along? We could talk?”
Atania narrowed her eyes at the halfling. The lack of emotion behind the instinct left her shocked. She swallowed, her expression softened, and then nodded.
“I could use a walk. No talking, though.”
“No talking. To the gods.” Fletcher pressed a finger to his lips and started down the path.
The sea buzzed with life as they walked along the bird shit splattered rocky shore. Rock spiders ducked in and out of crevices beneath their feet, gulls swept down to snatch up fish from the water, bells of fishing boats rang out of the dull sloshing of waves, all the while Fletcher hummed a song she knew she’d heard before. He didn’t walk like soldiers did, or even nobles. He moved like the world was his to experience, not survive. The one thing he wasn’t doing was speaking. Just as she requested.
In fact, the mere fact that he was doing exactly as she asked without being his normal obnoxious self was making her more irritated than if he’d just been obnoxious in the first place. How had she allowed such an infuriating little man have such an effect on her? How had anyone? Anywhere he went, it seemed he attracted the who’s who of power and influence.
“How do you do that?” Atania shook her head. The confusion on his face indicated he had not been following the conversation she’d been having with herself in her own head…which made sense. “How did you meet that woman?” she clarified.
Fletcher’s eyebrows rose, and he looked back to the dock they were at least a mile from now. “You mean Saralynne?” He chuckled and kicked a rock into the sea. “The short version? Her wife was a friend of mine from school. Before she was the head of the Thirteen, she was an adventurer. She and her wife found me in a precarious situation with a succubus.”
“Succubus?” Atania raised an eyebrow at him.
“Yeah…” He looked up at her, then his eyes went wide. “Oh…you don’t… uhhh…” He gnawed on the inside of his cheek for a moment, and his cheeks went a little red. “It’s a kind of demon.”
His reaction said all she needed to know about what kind of demon they were talking about. She rolled her eyes, though a little smile crossed her lips. Insipid little man. The way he told things, it was like he simply stumbled into these situations. Lady Dawnflare, Leonie Mulbrook, King Vilrut. Just people that he’d met and liked him enough to keep him around.
“You certainly have a way of making friends, don’t you?” she glanced down at him.
Fletcher just shrugged. “I find if you’re kind to people, they tend to like having you around. You’ve been particularly stubborn on that fact, though.”
“Did I miss some point where you were kind to me?” She pursed her lips and crossed her arms, tapping her chin.
Fletcher’s mouth went agape. “What? I’ve been nothing but kind and friendly with…”
She snorted out a laugh, covering her mouth to try to hide the grin quickly spreading across her face.
“Oh, I see.” Fletcher nodded. “Let’s have a laugh and mess with Fletcher.”
“It was pretty easy.” She chuckled, and he looked up at her with that crooked grin. For a moment she got that floating sensation in her gut. Gods, she hated that.
They walked for another hour in silence before turning around. It struck Atania just how comfortable she felt, just walking beside him. It hadn’t been immediately apparent when she met him, but now she knew. He didn’t fear her. Even when she actively tried to intimidate him the first time they’d met, he shrugged it off like a momentary obstacle.
As they approached the docks again, Fletcher’s pace noticeably slowed, and she clocked him wringing his hands. She took a deep breath and shook her head. He was going to burst if she didn’t give him permission to speak.
“Go ahead.”
“You know…they don’t really control you, right?” He blurted out as if someone had locked down his lungs and finally allowed him to breathe.
Atania stopped cold. Muscles tensed. Her eyes narrowed on him as he stumbled, shuffling to turn around and look at her.
“Excuse me?” Atania clenched her fists.
“I’m sorry, I just..” Fletcher stammered and rubbed the back of his neck. “Saralynne had quite the effect on you, at least that’s how it looked, and I just wanted you to know that she’s right. The situation you’re in…it’s not the only one.”
“You know nothing about me,” she snapped, lip and nostrils twitching, but the tremor in her voice betrayed her. She swiped at her mouth, attempting to erase the words that were meant to come out.
Stop seeing me.
“Thank you for the walk.” Atania muttered, hurrying away before her voice could betray her again.