Fae Courts Echoes of the Elderglen

[Vespera]

Tainted.

The word burned. Not from pain- not anymore. The wound had long since closed, jagged lines of the old script now nothing more than a cruel brand. But it burned in her mind, seared into her in ways that went far beyond her flesh. She had almost forgotten it was there. Almost.

It was the reason Vespera had never swam with the other fae in one of the many pools of water. It was the reason she still wore her armor, even when it was boiling outside and everyone else abandoned theirs for some relief from the sun. As Ash's hands brushed against her skin, careful, she felt it all over again. The moment it had been carved into her, the blade biting deep, the laughter of those who held her down, the way they spoke of her like she was something disgusting and ruined. Just like Rivain and Asher did.

She forced herself to breathe, waiting for laughter or some witty comment about it. It never came. And she was grateful for that.

Bathwater lapped gently against her, heat seeping into her bones and loosening the tense knots in her muscles. It should have been a relief. She wanted to feel relief. But Asher's hands moved through her hair, fingers moving carefully and slowly as he lathered soap. She could barely keep still. Her entire body felt too tight, stretched thin with shame that now had its hands around her throat.

She glanced up at him, watching him. Waiting for his gaze to flicker to her back, for his breath to catch, for him to give the faintest hint that he had noticed. But he had kept his promise. His eyes never strayed, never wavered. He hadn't seen it. And yet, she still felt like she was unraveling.

Her hands still curled into fists beneath the soapy water, nails pressing into her palms to ground her. She had spent a lifetime trying to keep her body hidden, keep her past locked away behind wall so high that no one, not even Asher, could scale them. Yet, here she was, letting him touch her, letting him help, letting him see her in ways she had fought so long, so hard, to avoid.

The worst part was how gentle he was. It would have been easier if he had been rough, if he had been distant. If he had washed the blood away from her skin and hair like it was nothing, just another chore he had to take care of. But he touched her like she was something fragile, something precious. Like she hadn't been tainted at all.

Her head fell forward, allowing her to stare at the bubbles. She clenched her teeth tight, her eyes stinging. I hate this. She let the words replay over and over in her head, as if repetition would make them true. I hate the way he makes me feel. I hate the warmth in his touch when he runs his fingers through my hair. I hate how he stayed. I hate that I wanted him to.

Silence grew heavier the longer it went on, thick and overwhelming with words neither wanted to speak. Until she exhaled shakily and forced out words no louder than a whisper. "Don't..."

She felt his hands still in her hair. Vespera stared down at the soap bubbles curling around her like a shield she didn't deserve. "Don't be gentle." There. She had said it. Torn the words from her throat and forced them out into the open where she couldn't take them back.

 

[Asher]

'Don't be gentle.'

Asher stilled, his hands frozen in her hair, his breath catching slightly in his throat. For the first time since this started, he looked at her. His gaze flicked to her face, searching, confusion flickering across his features. She wasn’t trembling, wasn’t flinching away. Her golden eyes were locked on the water, but there was something in them—something raw, something tired.

She thought he was treating her like she was weak. She thought he was afraid she would break.

Fuck.

Of course she wasn’t weak. She had killed the bastards who did this to her while she was still bleeding into the dirt. She had survived every cruel hand life had dealt her, every whispered insult, every look of disdain from the fae who saw her as nothing. Of course she could handle this.

He swallowed hard and gave a short nod, tilting her face toward him. His hand cupped some of the soapy water, slowly washing the blood from her cheek, her neck.

Fuck. Her skin was so soft. So perfect.

He worked in silence, focusing on the task at hand, on the way her breath evened slightly as the warmth seeped into her muscles. He lifted the pitcher again, tilting her head back, pouring water through her golden hair, his fingers sliding down the length of it, slow and steady.

And then his hand touched something wrong. Scar tissue. Jagged. Deep. Deliberate.

His fingers stilled, tracing the ridges instinctively. The shape was too precise. Too cruel. It wasn’t just a scar. It was a brand. A message.

He broke his promise. His moss-green eyes flickered downward, his hand shifting to pull her hair aside—and there, carved into her back was a word he knew all too well.

Vaelith. Tainted.

The room darkened. The firelight flickered, shadows stretching long and jagged against the wooden walls. The temperature dropped, a pulse of something deep and unbidden rolling through the space like a distant thunderstorm.

His breath came slow, heavy, controlled—too controlled.

"Who did this?"

His voice was low, deadly quiet, but it rumbled with something dangerous, something dark.

His fingers trembled, not from fear, but from sheer rage. This wasn’t fresh. This had been here for years. Years, and she had carried it alone. Years, and he had never fucking noticed. Had anyone?

His hands curled into fists, nails biting into his palms as he fought to keep himself from shattering.

"Who did this to you?" He didn’t even realise he was shaking. Didn’t realise his shadows had begun curling around the room like living things, writhing with his rage.

He had seen her bleed, seen her break, seen her scream. But this? This was the first time he had ever truly wanted to kill.

 

[Vespera]

Pressure increased, his fingers massaging her skin in a way she hadn't known that she needed until pain began to wash away. Relaxation had seemed a foreign concept before, but her breathing slowed to a steady rise and fall of her chest. This was good. This would be okay-

She felt him still, her eyes flickering open. Shadows twisted in the corners of the room. The water began to chill quickly and she realized that it was his breathing she felt growing unnaturally controlled.

Who did this?

He had seen it.

For a long moment, Vespera said nothing. The air between them stretched taut, humming with something unspoken. She could feel the heat of his words pressing against her skin, cutting at her in a way she wished that they didn't. Maybe she would have scoffed, rolled her eyes, and thrown words back at him to defend herself as she always did. But the way he was looking at her- like he was waiting for her to brace for his disgust, for a reminder that the words were true- made something twist deep in her chest. It was familiar. Too familiar.

Vespera exhaled slowly, the Old Fae script burning with the memory of hands that held her down. Voices that laughed while they branded their hatred into her skin.

"You weren't supposed to look. You promised." She finally said, her voice quieter than intended. Her shoulders stiffened and despite what she had asked of him, she leaned forward into the icy water, brushing her hair away to reveal the full extent of it. "You can read it." She added, hating the way her voice wavered. Hated that she sounded wounded. Because she wasn't- in that way. Not anymore.

Who did this to you?

She swallowed hard, and locked her eyes back on the water where she could see her knees through a gap in the bubbles.

"I don't know who held the knife." She admitted. It was the truth, and yet it wasn't all the same. She hadn't seen the faces, not when it had mattered. But she knew who had set it in motion.

She had loved him. Or, she had thought she loved him. It was a foolish, reckless love, the kind that ached even at its best. He had been everything she wanted. He hadn't treated her like she was lesser even when everyone else had. And when he was sent away- when she had begged him to stay on her hands and knees, pleading in a way she never had before- he left anyway.

They stayed, though. His friends.

Never as kind as he was, they never liked her. They called her a mongrel behind closed doors, whispered tainted under their breath when she passed by. But after he was gone, they no longer whispered. They made sure she would never forget.

After a long stretch of silence, she lifted her chin and forced a smirk that did not match the vulnerability in her eyes. "But it doesn't matter, does it? It was a long time ago."

Another lie. One he could see as clearly as the scars on her back.

Vespera's jaw tightened and she turned away, suddenly feeling the weight of his gaze like it might peel her open and reveal something even deeper. "It doesn't matter." She repeated, sharper this time as if she could will it to be true.

 

[Asher]

It doesn't matter.

It was a lie. A weak, brittle thing that cracked in the air between them, fragile as the way her voice wavered, unsteady as the smirk she forced onto her lips.

It did matter.

Asher didn’t move, didn’t speak for a long moment. His breathing was slow, too slow, forced into control. But his fingers twitched at his sides, his jaw so tight it ached. The room felt smaller, the air heavier, pressing down on him, suffocating. The rage in his chest burned hot.

Her back was still turned to him, her shoulders tense, her spine straight as a blade. She wouldn’t look at him. Wouldn’t let him see the way the words still haunted her.

But he saw it anyway.

'You weren’t supposed to look. You promised.'

Asher swallowed, something thick and unmovable lodged in his throat. "I know." His voice was rough, low, quiet.

And then she had shifted forward, tilting her head slightly, letting him see. That hurt the most. That she had given up fighting him on it. That she had let the past crawl between them, ugly and raw, its scars bared for him to read like an open wound.

'I don’t know who held the knife.'....

There were more than one. And she knew who was responsible. He heard it in the way her voice turned hollow, in the way she stared at the water like she could disappear into it if she tried hard enough.

He felt his hands curling into fists, nails biting into his palms. Where were you, Asher? Where the fuck were you when this happened?

He had spent years throwing insults at her, pushing her away, never once seeing her. And all this time, she had been walking among them with this carved into her skin.

It mattered.

It mattered because she had spent her whole life trying to prove herself, to earn a place in a world that had already decided she didn’t deserve it. It mattered because every word she had ever spat at him in anger, every glare, every sharp-edged smirk, every moment of defiance—it had all come from this.

'It doesn’t matter.'

It. Fucking. Mattered.

His mossy-green eyes darkened, something unreadable in them as he reached to curl his fingers around her jaw, firm but careful, turning her face toward him. Forcing her to look at him.

"It does matter. Tell me who was there." His voice was low, tight, pained. "Vespera. Who. Did. This."

His thumb brushed over her cheekbone, his fingers flexing slightly as he fought to control the rage rising in his chest, clawing its way up his throat. It was painful to hold it back, to keep his voice from breaking under the weight of it.

Because if she said a name—just one fucking name—he would hunt them down, and he would end them.

Because this mattered.

Because she mattered.

 

[Vespera]

"It's okay." The warmth of the water had faded, losing the comfort Vespera had sought out. She could feel the water streaming down her back in quiet rivulets, running down the old scar, but it did little to wash away the past. Nothing could ever get rid of it.

She longed for his fingers to return to her hair, to massage away the tension that was brewing just as the storm was in his eyes. It was there in the way his breathing had turned controlled, too controlled for him. And the way his movements felt like he was holding something back. Something dangerous and unchecked. She'd seen it before, the night he had abandoned them all.

"It doesn't matter." She repeated again, her voice light and careless. It was a shitty deflection. Nothing more than a cracked shield. Ash shifted, moving beside the tub where he could grip her jaw without risking any movement to her ear. Her eyes met his and she was greeted with a pain that could have mirrored her own all those years ago.

She let him hold her there for a moment, her face angled towards his where she could be caught in the molten fury burning behind his eyes. His rage was a living, breathing, palpable thing coiling through the air between them and wrapping around them both. It should have made her feel powerful, being able to stoke such a fire in him. But all she felt was an exhaustion, an ache so deep it settled into her very bones.

Vespera.

A warning. A plea.

He said her name with that same stead, lethal quiet that left her more unsettled than his fury could ever. Her cheek brushed against the rim of the tub as she pulled her face away and leaned against it, her gaze distant as she watched the little remaining steam curl upwards.

A name. That was all he wanted. And gods, how she wished she could craft a lie to make him forget what he had seen. But he wouldn't let her hide.

She swallowed hard, her throat dry, and forced the words out before she could stop herself.

"Fionn."

His own brother.

The moment it left her lips, the air seemed to shatter between them. She saw the way Ash's face shifted, how his fingers twitched against her like he wasn't sure if he should hold her or let go. It appeared his brother's name had been a dagger and she had driven it straight through his ribs.

"You wanted a name." She couldn't steady her voice. "There it is." She didn't turn to look at him. She didn't need to. She already knew what she would see. Shock, maybe. Anger, definitely. Something wild and unrelenting, ready to burn through whatever stood in its way. "He was not the one who held the knife." She began to clarify. "But he never did anything to stop his friends."

That was the truth. She had been in love with his older brother and he had left her with the wolves so he could marry a queen.

Vespera closed her eyes finally. She had given him what he wanted. And she could only hope that it only ruined one of them.

 

[Asher]

Fionn.

The name crashed through him punch to the gut. His breathing hitched, his fingers twitching against her jaw as he leaned over the edge of the tub.

His brow furrowed. He didn’t understand.

His thoughts raced, colliding, unraveling. When? When had this happened? When had she been left at the mercy of his brother’s so-called friends? He tried to think back, tried to remember any moment, any sign—but there was nothing. Fionn had always been far kinder to her than he and Rivain had.

And that was the worst fucking part of it. Because while she was bleeding, while they carved that word into her skin, while she was undoubtedly screaming in pain—where the fuck was he?

A muscle in his jaw twitched, his shoulders tight, his vision sharpening on her with an intensity he couldn’t suppress. His voice, when it finally came, was low and ragged.

"When?" he asked, pulling his hand away as it trembled and he shook his head. "It doesn't matter when. I know enough."

He exhaled sharply, raking a hand through his messy hair, his heart hammering against his ribs. Fionn’s friends. That was what she had said. His brother might not have held the knife, but he had let it happen. Had stood by, had done nothing.

The world was darkening at the edges, a slow, curling thing, dangerous and consuming.

"I'm sorry." It came out rough, but not because he didn’t mean it. Fuck, he meant it. More than he had ever meant anything. His voice lowered further, his mossy gaze locking onto hers.

"We were supposed to protect you." His throat felt tight, but he forced the words through. His breath left him in a slow, uneven exhale. "We failed. I failed. And I’m sorry."

But sorry wasn’t enough. It wouldn’t erase the scars. It wouldn’t take back the pain. It wouldn’t change the fact that she had carried this alone for years while he had walked around oblivious, dragging her further down. Reinforcing her belief that she wasn't worthy.

He swallowed the bile rising in his throat, his hands curling into fists as he pushed himself to stand, every muscle wound tight, coiled, ready to break something as he paced.

Fionn. He had to see him. Had to look him in the fucking eye and demand answers. And as for the bastards who had held the blade and the others that had watched? The one who'd cut her ear and run? Every single one of them would pay.

"I have to leave. I'll fetch Marja, send her here." A healer she trusted. He swallowed, keeping his eyes on the floor, fighting back the urge to look at her again.

"I'm sorry, Vespa."

 

[Vespera]

From the corner of her eye, Vespera watched him. Her chest was tight, breaths shallow. She could feel the rage in him, thick as smoke, curling around them both, suffocating them. The way his hands were trembling, as they had the night he left, his voice raw with anger, she knew that if she let him walk out of the door that he wouldn't come back the same.

But none of that hurt worse than the guilt in his eyes. It clung to him like a second skin, heavier than any armor he'd ever donned. She hated the sight. It was not his fault. It had never been his fault.

She shivered in the freezing water, nails scraping the tub as she forced herself to sit up straighter. Her body ached, ribs protesting her movement, but she didn't stop. Not until she could look at him fully. Not until he had no choice but to listen to her.

"You didn't fail me, Ash." She waited for him to look at her, but did not give him the chance to speak. "You and Rivain...you weren't ever supposed to protect me." She continued, her voice steadier than her shivering body portrayed. "I was supposed to protect me. I wanted to be your equal, gods I begged Merenor to let me try. I have no magic to protect me, so he asked your father to teach me how to use a weapon. I wanted to be able to stand beside you, to fight beside you. I wanted to protect the Elderglen. But, most of all, I wanted to prove that I deserved to be here- that I belong here. And I was the one who failed."

She pushed forward, again refusing to give him any space to respond. "I never expected your protection. Not then. Not now. That isn't what this is about." Her throat tightened around the weight of her words, heavy with sadness. "I should have been strong enough to prove I belonged, to prove that Merenor hadn't made a grave mistake in bringing me home when he found me abandoned. But I wasn't."

Silence hung between them. She could see the war behind his eyes, the part of him that seemed to refuse to accept any part of what she was saying. The part of him that wanted someone- anyone- to blame. Her eyes flickered to his hands, clenched tightly at his sides, knuckles white from the force of it. He was leaving her, slipping away into vengeance, retribution. But she couldn't let him go, even if she should have.

"Don't leave! Not yet." Gods, she sounded desperate. It was barely more than a whisper, but it seemed to have stopped him in his tracks. Shame curled tight in her stomach, embarrassment from her failed attempt to kiss him still burning beneath her skin. Still haunting her. But that wasn't why she asked.

Pain, exhaustion, the sheer weight of everything she had carried alone for so long. Just this once, she didn't want to be alone. Even though she had a million and one questions about what had happened to him over the months he'd been gone, she wouldn't use that as an excuse. She just needed someone there.

"You don't have to stay long." She tagged on quickly after her plea, dropping her gaze and suddenly unsure of herself. "Just until I fall asleep."

A pause.

Softly, she begged. "Please."

 

[Asher]

The shadows had begun to curl at the edges of his mind, twisting like smoke, coiling tight around his ribs. The rage in his chest was suffocating, a wildfire with nowhere to burn, and if he didn’t do something—if he didn’t act—he was going to drown in it.

But then—

"Please."

One word. Barely more than a whisper. And fuck—it stopped him cold. His pacing ceased, his fists loosening at his sides as he turned to look at her.

She was shivering. The water had gone ice-cold, her skin pale, her lips faintly trembling as she sat there, watching him with something raw in her golden eyes.

She needed him here. She was asking him to stay. She wanted him here.

He swallowed thickly, feeling the weight of his own breath, the ache in his throat, the battle still warring inside of him. Every instinct screamed at him to go, to tear through the night and find Fionn, to make him bleed, to make them all bleed.

But she was here. And she was asking him to stay.

His jaw was tight as he moved back to the tub, kneeling beside it once more. His fingers dipped into the cool water, careful not to touch her. He exhaled slowly, focusing—not on his rage, not on the shadows whispering in his mind—but on the flickering energy beneath his skin.

He couldn’t conjure flame under water, but heat, heat he could share. It pulsed outward, radiating from his palm, and slowly, the water began to warm again.

He could feel her watching him, but he didn’t meet her gaze. Couldn’t. His throat was too tight, his emotions barely restrained. Instead, he focused on the task, on the way the warmth seeped back into the water.

Finally, he nodded, exhaling through his nose."Until you fall asleep." His voice was quiet, edged with something he wasn’t ready to name.

She had asked him to stay. And for her, just this once, he would.

 

[Vespera]

The warmth of the water returned to her skin, chasing away the worst of her shivers, but it was not enough to soothe her. Not entirely. "Bring me that towel," She pointed, her voice quiet, Ash didn't hesitate however. She watched him stand, let herself have a moment to just stare. His movement was smooth, but there was a tension in his shoulders. The weight of her words obviously still pressing down on him.

She couldn't blame him though. The name she'd given him was his brother's. The name of someone Rivain and Ash watched her spend years with, studying beside him until something had kindled in the both of them. Something that had been snuffed out so easily by him when a better opportunity came alone. Vespera couldn't compete with an average fae female, how could she ever compete with a Princess- Queen, now.

By the time he'd returned and draped it around her, she gathered the strength to lift herself out, pulling the towel close as she shifted and braced herself against the tub's edge. She hated this...this quiet vulnerability. Especially in front of him. But she wasn't strong enough to fight it right now, not strong enough to fight through every sharp, aching pain. So she let him help.

Vespera leaned on him, steadying herself as she stepped from the water. She let him stand beside her as she sat on a chair, pushing her hair aside to expose the wound at her ear. He had done this before- cleaned her up after a particularly bad sparring session, tended to her wounds just as he would Rivain's. It was the same quiet, restrained touch, but somehow it was completely different. She felt it in the way his fingers brushed against her skin, the way he hesitated for a fraction of a second before pressing the cloth against her wound.

The way he tensed as she drew in a sharp breath and held still, eyes shut while he dressed the wound.

By the time her wound, and her body, were dressed, fatigue was dragging at her limbs. Her body ached with every step towards her bedroom. But she refused to use him as a crutch, despite the way he hovered like a shadow- too close. Too close after the stunt she had pulled in her delirious, pain-induced haze. That was all it was.

The large window at the opposite end of her room poured moonlight in, illuminating the hand painted night skies and the bed that had been built for her in her youth. It was too small. Barely enough room for her, let alone anyone else. And yet, "Sit with me." She demanded quietly, patting the side as she slipped beneath the thin blankets. "Just until I fall asleep. You agreed." Her voice was heavy with exhaustion, but she forced a small smile.

Shifting on her side, facing him, her golden eyes searched his face for a while as if she still had something to say to him. "Where have you been?" She asked, the question settling between them. Quiet, heavy. "For the past months. Where?"

He must have known it was coming, eventually she would have asked. But before he could find the words, before he could tell her too much...her breathing slowed. Her lashes fluttered, trying to protest. Once. Twice. And then, she was asleep.

 

[Asher]

Asher sat beside her, his body heavy with exhaustion but his mind too sharp, too fucked to rest.

His fingers moved absently, stroking the damp strands of her golden hair back from her face, trailing them over her temple, her cheek. She was still fighting sleep, lashes fluttering, her body worn thin from pain and blood loss. She wouldn't be fighting for long.

'Where have you been?'

Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper, but it settled in his chest like a stone. His brow furrowed. Where had he been? He had been everywhere. Nowhere. Running. Searching. Drowning in fights, in drink, in things that didn’t fucking matter. Trying to outrun the thing curled inside him, trying to prove that it could be controlled.

Trying to forget the words that had echoed in his mind with every step, every fucking breath.

'The darkness in you.. It'll be the death of her..'

Guilt twisted like a knife between his ribs, lodging deep. He had left her. And now she bore more scars that should have never touched her skin.

Had this happened because he wasn’t here? If he had stayed, would this have happened? Would her back still be unmarked if he had only just protected her the way he should have instead of being jealous that his father cared more for her than he ever did for him?

His throat burned as he kept stroking her hair, smoothing it back, silently urging her to rest. Her breathing slowed.

Once. Twice. And then, she was asleep. His jaw clenched.

"Right here."

The words left him before he could stop them, a quiet admission, spoken to the silence, spoken to her. She hadn’t been far from his mind since the moment he’d left.

He pulled her blankets higher, tucking them around her shoulders, letting his hand linger a moment longer. And then he stayed longer than he’d promised. Watching her, listening to the slow, steady rhythm of her breath.

He stayed because he owed her that much. Because he needed to remind himself that she was alive. His fingers brushed her temple again, his touch feather-light. A silent apology for every cruel word he had ever spat at her. For every moment of training where he had been rougher than necessary, where he had let his frustration take the lead, where he had cut too deep. For not seeing her. For leaving.

His breath was slow, controlled, but his mind churned. And then, inevitably, his brother’s name crept back into his thoughts.

Fionn.

His expression hardened, a new storm forming behind his moss-green eyes. It was time for a visit to the Day Court.

 

[Vespera]

Sunlight scattered across her skin, but there was a stark absence of warmth beside her. He was gone.

Vespera's fingers curled into the sheets, holding onto them as if she could bring him back. For a long moment, she lay still, staring at the ceiling, tracing the painted constellations with unfocused eyes. Her room had gone silent, just like after Merenor had died. But unlike Merenor, she could feel the ghost of Ash's presence. The weight of him sitting at her bedside.

But he was gone. Of course he was. She had asked him to stay until she fell asleep. Nothing more. And of course he had kept his word. Disappointment curled in her stomach, sour and unshakeable.

When he disappeared again, it was without a word. Just like last time. Not a goodbye for Rivain, nor their father. Not even to her. It was like that night was nothing more than a fever dream. But as her hair brushed over the bandages that were not placed by her own hands, she was once again reminded that it was real.

She told herself she didn't care. It wasn't her place to question him- where had he gone, what business he had beyond protecting the Elderlgen. But then days of silence blurred together and unease settled in her chest. And just as suddenly as he left, he returned. With Fionn.

But the boy she had once loved was gone. The man she spent years beside was standing before her, a stranger. His smile was sharp and humorless. His eyes were darker. Whatever gentleness he once held, whatever warmth had lived inside his heart had been carved out and replaced by something cold and cruel. His casual conversation turned to cold, clipped words. His voice was now low and edged with something dangerous.

And when she looked at Asher, the tension in his frame, quiet fury simmering beneath the surface she realized that something terrible was happening to him.

---

The Elderglen was burning.

Great gashes tore through the ancient trees, sacred bark split open like the wounds that once marred Vespera's back. The ground and leaves were scorched, embers still smoldering as they clung to the broken roots. The air was thick with the scent of charred earth and powers that did not belong to it.

Vespera's breaths had been coming in short and sharp bursts as she paced the ruined clearing, hands shaking at her sides. They were so unbelievably fucked. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest, eyes blurring as she began to go lightheaded.

This was wrong. All wrong. They. Were. Fucked.

She turned to face Ash, rage flaring hot and immediate as her gaze landed on him.

"What the fuck have you done?" Her voice cracked and raw. A burning branch fell from high above, landing just beside her. And Asher, he stood amidst the wreckage, unflinching while his face was shadowed in the moonlight. Blood was on his hands. There was blood everywhere. "You...you killed them!"

Her words came choked out, horror twisting in her gut. "All of them. You killed them all." A tremor ran through her limbs. "For what? For me?" She laughed darkly, but it came out more strangled and desperate through her panic. "You destroyed a piece of the Sacred Elderglen for me?"

Vespera's voice rose as she stepped closer to him, nearly tripping over the body of a man she recognized. Her voice was as sharp as the wind sweeping through the broken trees. "Because of some old scars? Because of something that happened years ago?" Her hands trembled, nails digging into her palms. "Do you have any idea of what you have done, Ash?"

If he didn't, that may have been what terrified her the most.

Because it was not the destruction, nor the bodies left in his wake.

It was the way Asher stood before her, unwavering and unapologetic. As if he would do it all again in a heartbeat.

 

[Asher]

The world was noise.

A howling, writhing thing clawing at the edges of his mind, screaming for more. More fire. More blood. More destruction. The shadows slithered through his skull, whispering, urging, hungry.

But there was nothing left to kill.

Asher swayed on his feet, his breaths shallow, uneven. The heat of the fire scorched his skin, but it felt distant—like it belonged to another body, another place. Somewhere far away, Vespera was yelling. Her voice was sharp, cutting through the cacophony, but it was muffled, an echo through the thick, thrumming dark. He blinked slowly, unseeing.

His hands shook. Blackened fingers twitched as he turned them over, rubbing his thumbs against the charred flesh, but it did not smear. The corruption had seeped too deep.

His lips parted slightly, as if to speak, but no words came.

The Elderglen burned.

Vespera’s voice rose, frayed with anger and something else—fear? He should care. He should. He forced himself to look at her, to really see her. Not just the blur of her form against the glow of firelight, but her. The way she stood amidst the wreckage, horrified, desperate.

He had done this.

A strange, detached thought. It did not bring regret, nor satisfaction. Only a heavy, aching void.

Asher’s body swayed again. Too much. He had used too much.

His eyes fluttered shut, the weight of it all—of the shadows, the fire, the blood—dragging him down.

The last thing he saw was the fury on Vespera’s face before the world tilted, and he collapsed into the scorched earth.

 

[Vespera]

Vespera's voice cracked as she screamed at him, words lost in the chaos of the burning Elderglen and the destruction he left in his wake. "You think this," Her arms swung out, gesturing wildly to the ruined glade and the bodies strewn across the ground, "is something I wanted? You think that I asked for this?" Her chest heaved, fury and despair tangling together like her hair- conveniently left down to cover her marred ear ever since he left her alone. Her temper burned as hot as the embers around them.

"You are a fool, Asher!" She took another trembling step forward, hands clenched tightly into fists at her sides. "A reckless, destructive, idiotic fool. And you don't even see-"

She halted as Ash wavered. Her words faltered and his balance shifted, frame unsteady in a way she'd not seen before. Not this badly, at least. Ash's shoulders sagged and his breathing turned ragged. The fury she'd been ready to tear into him with vanished as his knees buckled.

"Ash-" He collapsed.

Vespera's skin went cold, draining of its color as she lurched forward, unable to catch him before he hit the ground hard. She tried to wake him, tried to sit him up, but he was heavy. Too heavy. Panic clawed at her as she struggled to move him. "Come on. Come on!" She muttered through clenched teeth, planting her own heels into the scorched earth. God's it was so hot. She could feel the rubber soles of her shoes melting in the ground. "You don't get to do this. Not now!" She grunted.

A crack split in the air. She barely had time to look up before a large, flaming branch snapped from the canopy above and came tumbling down towards them. She gritted her teeth and threw her weight against him, trying to drag him out of the way, but he was dead weight in her arms, barely breathing. She braced herself above him, knowing she wouldn't be fast enough, knowing there was nothing else she could do to protect him.

Why was she even trying? He had left again. Abandoned her without a word. Why did she still feel the need to save him from himself?

Footsteps drew her attention. Panicked voices. The sudden gleaming of silver.

Vespera whipped around, breath caught in her throat.

Sylverglade Sentinels. How had they approached so quickly, so quietly?

They surrounded her and Ash in an instant, weapons drawn, eyes blazing with fury as they took in the devastation. Among them..Rivain stood. His face was grim, gaze sweeping over the ruined glade, the bodies, the destruction. His brown eyes settled past Vespera, locked on to the unconscious form of his brother.

"Step away from him." A Sentinel standing to Rivain's left barked. He was shorter, stockier, with reddish brown hair and scars everywhere that clothing didn't cover. His sword was aimed at Vespera along with his orders.

But she didn't move. She couldn't. Asher was still unconscious, still vulnerable.

"I said step away." He growled.

Vespera knelt down, her grip tight around Ash's shoulders. "You're making a mistake." She hissed.

Another Sentinel stepped forward, eyes narrowing. "Do you expect us to believe that, mutt?" His gaze flickered to the burning wreckage behind her. "This," He gestured with a sword to the scene around her, "This is an act of war. The Elderglen bleeds because of you two."

"But. He didn't-" She started and snapped her mouth shut. She couldn't tell them the truth. She couldn't let them take Ash. So she did the only thing she could. "It wasn't him." She lied, her voice growing more steady. "Asher had nothing to do with this."

There was silence. Disbelief flickered across their faces, but Rivain...

He was watching her. His sharp eyes may not have been so easily fooled. Realization sunk into his expression like a blade through flesh. Rivain knew.

Vespera felt her heart stutter in her chest. He knew she was lying. He knew she could lie.

His gaze swept the clearing again, taking in the bodies. Recognition darkened in his features. Some of them. He knew some of them. Recognized them as he'd once fought beside them. Recognized some as friends of his brother. His nostrils flared as his gaze landed on one of the bodies- a warrior with a deep gash across his chest. One not carved by blade. The man's lifeless eyes remained open.

"Ronan." Rivain murmured under his breath, voice edged with something that sounded like grief. Vespera would have laughed if they weren't completely fucked. He swallowed hard and closed the man's eyes, shoulders rising and falling with a barely restrained fury. He turned sharply to Vespera, eyes burning into her. "What have you done?"

She flinched, heart pounding against her ribs. "I told you. It wasn't him."

"Then who?" He demanded, stepping close until he towered over her.

She hesitated. A second too long.

Rivain's expression darkened and his voice dropped low so only Vespera could hear it. "You're lying." He accused, danger in his voice. His gaze flicked to Ash, unconscious and unmoving in her arms, then back to the scorched surroundings. "Am I supposed to believe this was you? You, with no magic, no power? The powerless little rat we kept around because my father respected Merenor?" He scoffed, shaking his head. "Who are you protecting, Vespera?"

Her fingers curled tightly over Ash's own. "I already told you-"

"Enough." He cut her off with a quiet command. "Take them both."

Vespera's breath hitched. "No-"

"You can explain yourselves at the keep." He nodded to the others, stepping away as he ordered the other Sentinels. "Restrain them."

One of them, the red head, reached for Vespera's hands. She bared her teeth and reached for her own blades. "Touch me and I will slit your throat, Caelum."

He hesitated for only a moment. Then, rough hands seized her arms, tearing her away from Ash. She fought, twisting and kicking violently, screaming with rage until her voice went hoarse. There were too many of them. "Ash!" Vespera gasped, reaching out for him as they hauled her back. He hadn't stirred. Hadn't even moved a muscle.

What was happening?

Rivain knelt down beside his brother, pressing two fingers against his throat. His expression remained impassive, unreadable, but the tension loosened in his shoulders slightly. He was still alive.

 

[Asher]

Asher drifted in the void.

Consciousness flickered at the edges of his mind, distant and unreachable, like the dying embers of a fire snuffed out too soon. His body was heavy, slick with sweat, his fingers numb save for the searing burn at his fingertips—the blackened skin—he knew what that meant. He’d gone too far.

He was breathing. Shallow, unsteady. But alive. Somewhere beyond the darkness, he could hear her.

Vespera.

Her voice cut through the haze, sharp with fury, cracking with something far more fragile beneath. She was screaming, fighting—but not for herself. For him. Lying for him. Protecting him. It was through her eyes that he saw.

Sentinels surrounded them, weapons drawn. His brother’s face, tight with restrained fury. The way his gaze darkened when it landed on the bodies. On her.

"What have you done?"

He wanted to answer. To move. To speak. But his body did not obey.

He felt the hands on her, dragging her away, and his mind screamed. The shadows inside him twisted violently, straining against the weight of his unconsciousness, desperate to cut them down, to tear them from her, to correct the lie she told.

But he could do nothing. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t help her.

Somewhere in the void, a touch brushed against his throat. He barely registered it. Vaguely aware of hands grasping at him, dragging him away, but to where, he didn’t know.

Time was meaningless. Hours, days—he couldn’t tell. Only the cold remained, pressing in around him, suffocating, until at last, something shifted.

A voice, sharp and unmistakable, cut through the fog.

"What the fuck happened?"

The words struck like lightning through his mind, snapping the tether that held him under. Asher’s breath hitched, muscles seizing, his body instinctively recoiling from the weight of that voice. His father’s voice.

Ice rushed through Asher’s veins, his pulse slamming against his ribs. The weight of his body was unbearable, but he forced his eyelids to flutter open. Light stabbed through his skull. He winced, blinking rapidly as his vision adjusted. He was lying on the cold stone floor of—where? His father’s study? A cell? No. A holding chamber, maybe. It smelled of damp stone and old magic, but the room itself was unadorned, built for function, not comfort.

His body ached, heavy and sluggish, like he'd been dragged through fire and left to smolder. A distant part of him supposed he had. He was still slick with sweat, still too hot to the touch.

He turned his head slightly, breath rasping through his throat. His body protested the movement, muscles stiff, fingers curling weakly against the floor.

"Vespa..." His voice was a hoarse whisper, barely audible, but he had to say it. Had to make sure she was still there. Still alive.

His vision cleared enough to make out figures standing before him. His father. Rivain. Sentinels, all watching him with unreadable expressions—except his father’s, which was thunderous.

The weight of their gazes was suffocating, but Asher only searched for her.

"Did you hit your fucking head, boy? Answer me!! What the fuck did you do?!" his father demanded. "Get him up." he sneered at the others, hands immediately dragging him to his feet and holding him up.

"Riv.." Asher looked to his brother with a wince, a mute plea in his gaze.

 

[Rivain]

Rivain was still, arms crossed and expression unreadable. He didn't move. Didn't blink. Didn't breathe as he took in the mess that was his youngest brother. Ash was bruised, unsteady, barely able to stand on his own. Blood streaked his hair, his skin. Ash from the charred Elderglen clung to his clothes. Yet, it was Asher's eyes that unsettled him the most. Despite himself, despite the beating he took, they burned, still smoldered with the weight of something feral and unleashed.

He swallowed against the tightness in his throat, fingers twitching at his sides. Rivain's jaw was locked so tightly that it ached. He should have said something, should have demanded answers. But their father stepped forward and the air in the cells shifted, twisted into something razor-sharp.

"You're going to start talking now, boy." Their father's voice was low, dangerous, demanding. It was sharp, full of clear and unyielding authority. "What the fuck happened out there? Why are my Sentinels dead in the Elderglen?"

Rivain looked away as Asher swayed, barely held up straight by the Sentinels that had flanked him earlier.

"And Why in the Gods' names is she," He sneered, "Covering for you?"

Rivain stepped forward slowly. "You didn't run this time?" He murmured, just loud enough for Ash to hear. His tone was unreadable, but there was a weight in his eyes. Concern. It told another story. "Why?"

Silence stretched between them, taut and fraying. Their father wasn't as patient. "Answer me, damn you!" His fist lashed out, cracking across Ash's jaw with enough force to turn his head to the side. Rivain exhaled sharply through his nose, but did not intervene.

The air was thick and oppressive. Torches flickered against walls, casting long shifting shadows. The Sentinels beside Rivain wore blank faces, but kept their grip on weapons tight. There were less Sentinels now. Several missing from the original group that had gathered Ash and Vespera. Some had remained to extinguish the flames, minimize the damage. Some had gathered bodies to identify and burn. Some-

There was a sound. Soft. Distant. A quiet, muffled sob.

Rivain heard it, ear twitching as he studied his brother's face. Watched Ash's eyes searching, straining. Vespera wasn't here. He couldn't see her in the darkness. But she was close. Several floors up, locked in a cell. She wasn't alone.

A vague, sharp thump was followed by a scream that was quickly cut off.

Their father seemed to have noticed the flicker of recognition in Ash's eyes because his lips twisted, curling into a cruel smirk. "She's been awfully loyal to you, boy." He mused, voice dripping with mockery. "Lying for you, defending you. It appears she is still refusing to cooperate. The pathetic human is so breakable compared to us. Yet, she will not speak." He leaned in slightly, shadow stretching over Asher's form. "Which begs the question. Why?"

Ash's response did not come quick enough for their father. Ash was dropped into a kneeling position by the Sentinels. A boot connected with his ribs, sharp and punishing. It would send him sprawling against the cold stone floor. "Answer me, boy." Their father growled, growing impatient.

Rivain stepped up beside their father, trying to gain control before the brute killed him. "You destroyed part of the Elderglen, Ash. You burned it. Do you understand what you've done?" His voice rose, but that concern was still etched in the lines on his face. "You have killed me we've fought beside. Men who trusted you." His voice quieted. "So tell me, brother. What the fuck am I supposed to do with you?"

There was another cry. This time, fainter, like she was forcing herself to be quiet.

"Fine. If he won't talk now, then he will soon enough." He gestured to the Sentinels. "Chain him up. We will return later." He gave the order before turning and exiting the cell. Only Rivain remained after he'd been dragged to the stone slab at the center of the room, iron cuffs clamped around his wrists and ankles.

"Why?" Was all he asked, voice barely above a whisper as he stood there and watched his brother struggle against the iron bindings.

 

[Asher]

Asher's head was still reeling from his father's fist that he barely registered the next blow.

Pain was nothing new. It cracked through his ribs, hot and searing, but it was nothing compared to the sound that followed.

A muffled sob. A cry strangled into silence.

His breath hitched, his head snapping up despite the weight of exhaustion pressing him down. His father was still speaking—sneering, demanding answers—but Asher wasn’t listening. His focus was elsewhere, his ears straining, searching.

"Stop."

The word was barely more than a breath, rasped out between bloodied lips. But he wasn’t speaking to his father. He was speaking to them. Whoever the fuck was hurting her.

He lifted his head, his gaze locking onto Rivain’s, desperate, burning as he continued to ignore his father's existence. Nothing he would say to his father would make any difference to his outcome.

"She was not responsible for any of it." His voice was hoarse, raw from pain and exhaustion, but unwavering in truth. Because he could not lie.

"This was me, and you know it. Let her go, Rivain."

The iron bindings burned white hot against his skin, his power clawing to be unleashed, to tear through them, to stop this. But the metal drank it in, suffocating him. His blackened hands trembled where they were bound, fingers twitching with useless, seething rage.

His throat burned. His vision blurred. His head fell forward, white strands of hair sticking to the blood drying on his face. But the shaking in his shoulders was not from pain.

It was fury. It was helplessness.

'Why?' Rivain’s voice was barely a whisper, but it beat him harder than their father’s fists.

Asher exhaled sharply, a bitter, broken sound. He clenched his teeth, his breath shuddering. And when he finally lifted his head, his eyes were sharp, bright with something vicious and unrelenting.

"Because they deserved it." His voice was low, shaking with the effort to keep it steady. "They tortured her. And whether we like her or not, Riv, we were supposed to protect her."

He spit a mouthful of blood onto the stone, his chest rising and falling in slow, ragged breaths, his voice cracking under the weight of it all.

"I tried to stay away." The confession fell from his lips, quiet, aching. "I tried."

His fingers curled, nails digging into his palms. His whole body went still, eyes squeezing shut as he exhaled sharply through his nose.

"Just kill me, brother." His voice broke, raw and wrecked, but his eyes were clear."You can't let me live like this, we both know it. Not after what he turned me into.. I can't control it.."

His jaw clenched so hard it ached, but he forced himself to meet Rivain’s gaze, the ghost of something desperate flickering there.

"You'll be more merciful than he will."

 

[Rivain]

For a while Rivain said nothing, hovering over his brother with crossed arms. His expression was blank as he studied Ash. Even now, Ash showed him that same reckless defiance. Even as the iron burned his skin, as the weight of his- their- sins threatened to crush him. He knew Ash wasn't lying to him like the half-breed did, spitting in the faces of the Sylverglade Sentinels that were keeping watch over her. None of it, none of them would answer his only question. Answer it in a way that made any sense.

He watched as his brother's fingers twitched, unable to gather any power while bound with the burning iron. His eyes traced the damage- blackened fingertips, cracked and seared flesh. The raw and untamed magic their father forced into him, the magic that had taken down a good portion of their sacred land, had left its mark. Charred and ugly. Damning evidence of the storm that had raged inside.

Yet, despite it all, he still tried bargaining for her life. Rivain exhaled, slow and measured. His jaw tightened, fingers flexing where they gripped his arms a little too tightly. "You are wrong, brother." His words were calm and absolute. "I took an oath to protect the Elderglen. Not her."

Another cry echoed through the cells, broken and strangled. Muffled words could be made out. Something about burning.

Rivain didn't care. She wasn't his problem to deal with. Their father was no longer watching, no longer waiting for Ash to agree. He was left here alone with only Rivain. He'd always been the colder, more pragmatic of the siblings. He was the one who did what must be done. Asher was once like him. Honorable, oath bound. Controlled.

But that Asher had been gone for years. Now here he was again, crawling back from whatever abyss he'd flung himself into, torn apart and begging for death.

Rivain didn't look away when he demanded that he kill him. "No." He stated, voice leveled and firm. "You do not get to ask that of me." He took a step closer, eyes narrowing. His ear twitched to that sound of crying in the distance. "You do not have the privilege of throwing yourself into the fire, letting it consume you whole, and then demanding I put you down like a rabid dog."

He knelt down to examine the ruined skin on Asher's hands more closely, allowing himself to meet his brother eye to eye. "What brought you back?" He murmured, his attention focused solely on the cuffs around Ash's wrists. They were a little too loose for his liking. Still painful, but clearly not doing their job. "You could have stayed gone. You should have stayed gone."

He paused for a moment before tightening the cuff until all of the iron's surface was flush with his brother's skin.

Blood curdling screams were heard in the distance. "Hmm..." His mouth tightened. "She burns. Interesting." He could hear it in the distance, the scream turned to that quiet, wretched sobbing. Pain in her voice as she begged anyone and no one to make it stop.

"Tell me why, Ash." He was quiet, a lethal edge to his voice. "Tell me why she is lying for you."

 

[Asher]

Asher barely bit back a scream as Rivain pressed the iron deeper into his skin. It burned like fire, searing into his nerves, sinking into his bones. His entire body went rigid, his breath tearing from his throat in a ragged, gasping cry.

His chest heaved. His fingers twitched uselessly in their bindings, the magic inside him writhing, howling against its prison. His skin blistered, his wrists raw and ruined beneath Rivain’s unyielding grip. He tried to jerk back, but there was nowhere to go.

"Riv—"

He stopped himself, swallowing the rest of the plea before it could escape.

His teeth bared, his body trembling with the effort to stay upright, to fight against the helplessness clawing at his insides. His head pounded, vision swimming as he forced himself to meet Rivain’s gaze.

And when he spoke, his voice was a raw, broken thing.

"Like you would fucking care."

It cracked at the edges, ragged with pain, with anger, with something deeper—something he refused to name.

"This is where you like to be, isn’t it?" he rasped, his breath shuddering between each word. "Standing over me. Watching me bleed on the floor. Ignoring me when I fucking plead with you to help me. Make you feel powerful, like him, does it?”

His jaw clenched, his teeth grinding together so hard it sent another sharp bolt of pain through his skull.

"He did this to me."

The words tore from him, a choked snarl, his fingers curling into fists as his body trembled under the weight of it.

"He breaks me, again and again, and he’s surprised when something like this happens. When I lose control of it."

A sharp, ragged inhale. His chest ached, his ribs screaming with every breath. His vision blurred—whether from pain or fury, he didn’t know.

He blinked, and hot, unwanted tears spilled over.

"For once in my fucking life," his voice wavered, but the heat never left it, "I just wish you’d choose my side, Riv. I wish you’d be my big brother."

His throat tightened, his breath hitching on the words.

"But neither of you ever will."

The fire dimmed, the fight draining from his voice as his head fell forward, strands of sweat-dampened hair sticking to his forehead.

"I accepted that a long time ago."

Silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating.

He tried to ignore the sound of her pain. The feel of it. It was hoarse now, weaker than before, the pain in it clawing deep into his ribs, into his lungs, into something he had long since tried to bury.

His hands twitched in their bindings. The iron seared through him, but he barely felt it anymore.

His voice was barely above a whisper now. "She’s covering for me because I did this because of what happened to her. She feels at fault. She swore an oath to protect this place too."

He swallowed, his throat tight, his pulse a pounding, unrelenting thing.

"She’s part of it, and she did her job." A shuddering breath.

"They had no right." His fingers flexed, and his voice dropped lower, raw and shaking.

"You know they had no right."

 

[Rivain]

His grip on the iron cuff did not waver, even as the sickening scent of charred flesh burned in his nose. He did not flinch when Asher cried out, nor when his brother's body writhed against the bindings in a futile resistance. He'd seen Ash suffer before. He'd seen him broken and beaten, but this time something twisted sharp and deep in his own chest. It wasn't pity. No, he would not allow himself to feel pity for his brother.

But it still hurt. That, he felt. And he hated it.

"Do you think I enjoy being here?" His voice was quiet, cold, lacking the rage Aerion wielded so freely against anyone he felt deserved it. He pressed the cuff harder, letting it burn at his own flesh- not to prove a point. He only wanted to make his brother understand. "Did you ever think I wanted this?"

A muffled sob pierced the air. Vespera still held her ground, it seemed.

Riv's gaze flicked towards the corridor that led up through different layers of cells. His face was filled with curiosity. The half-human had not yet broken. Even now, in the aftermath of agony inflicted upon her through Ash, she clung to something. But Ash- foolish, reckless, insufferable little brother. He would shatter first.

The realization was impressive. And infuriating.

His grip loosened slightly, only enough for Ash to breathe. His voice dipped lower, sharp. Like the tip of a blade resting against his brother's neck.

"I swore my oath to the Elderglen. To the land which bore us. To the home our mother bled for." He paused, bowing his head slightly in thought. "You never knew her. Sionia was our mother's name. I don't know if father told you that." It was a cruel truth. A crueler wound that their father had blocked out her memory the moment she died. "But I did know her. I had nearly eight hundred years to know her before she was taken from us." By you, the silence seemed to whisper. "I swore the same oath she did. It was not for our father, but for her."

He tilted his head, studying his brother with something- not quite disdain, but not quite anything softer than that. "Would you have me break my oath for some stupid, insignificant half-human?" His lips curled, his being turning bitter and scornful as he looked down at him. "A half-human whose words mean nothing. She swore, didn't she? An oath, just like ours. And yet..."

His free hand shot out, pressing against the band on Ash's wrist again until he could hear her voice cry out, hoarse and raw. And breaking.

Rivain's expression did not change, but something dark flickered across his eyes. He looked at his brother in search for some answer in his face. "She lied." He mumbled, more to himself than his brother. "She can lie." It should have been impossible with the fae blood running through her veins.

The iron burned her just as it did Asher. The fae blood should have stolen her voice, her deception, her ability to twist truths as the human part of her so often did. And yet- she still had spoken in falsehoods. That knowledge, above all else, unsettled him. But he forced himself to push through that thought and return the focus on his brother.

"I will not kill you." His voice was steady. "Not for this. Not because after hundreds of years you have once again lost your control. That is what Aerion wants, and I will not take our father's side just to spite you." He let go of the cuff at last, drawing back, though the tension in his stance did not seem to ease. "But tell me this, brother- why are you throwing everything away for a half-human mongrel that lies with such ease? What is it that binds you to her?" He paused for a moment before shaking his head. "I will not kill you. Aerion will not kill you. But I cannot say the same for her."

 

[Asher]

A ragged breath tore from Asher’s throat, half a cry, half a snarl, his whole body trembling as the iron did its work. As Rivain pressed the cuff tighter against his skin. The scent of his own burning flesh filled his nose, but it wasn’t the worst of it. Not even close.

Rivain had said her name. Their mother’s name.

Sionia.

It felt like a blade twisting in his ribs. He’d never known it. Never been told. Not once in centuries had Aerion let the name slip. His mother. A woman he’d never had the chance to love, never had the chance to remember. And Rivain—Rivain had the audacity to throw it in his face now?

His throat worked, his chest heaving, sweat and blood mixing as he forced himself to look at his brother. His jaw clenched so hard he thought his teeth might crack.

“He blames me for her death,” Ash rasped, voice raw, shaking. “You realise that, don’t you?” His lips twisted, his breath ragged and uneven. “My entire life, he has hated me for what I took from this family. He has made me suffer and pay for it every single fucking day, and you—” He let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “You sit by and you watch.” His fingers curled into fists, nails biting into the ruined flesh of his palms. “And I’m expected to call you brother.”

The word burned more than the iron.

His body rocked with pain, but he forced himself forward as far as the chains would allow, staring Rivain down. His breath came in sharp bursts, sweat running down his face, but he didn’t care. He pushed through it, let it fuel the fire growing inside him, the anger clawing up his throat.

“You think that’s what she would’ve wanted?” He bared his teeth, voice shaking, breaking. “You think she’d be proud of you?” His vision blurred, not just from the agony, but from the hot sting of tears, from the weight of it all. “Proud of the son who let Aerion do this? Who let him break her son—again and again and again—” His voice cracked, but he swallowed it down, forcing the rage to steady him.

He could take the pain and suffering, he was used to it, but Vespera’s pain was something else entirely. Something new and terrifying. And Rivain was threatening her life.

No.

No, he would not let this happen. Something inside him snapped.

The iron cut into his skin as he wrenched against the chains, muscles pulled so tight they threatened to tear. His breath came in ragged gasps, every part of him screaming in protest, but he didn’t care. He met Rivain’s cold, unyielding gaze with something feral, something wild.

“She is innocent of any crime!” he roared, his voice hoarse, burning. “You have my truth of it! I cannot fucking lie, and yet you condemn her for my actions?!” He yanked at the iron cuffs, body shaking with fury, his teeth clenched so tight his jaw ached.

And then—his voice dropped lower, raw and jagged, thick with venom and something darker.

“I swear a new oath, brother.”

His breath was heavy, sharp as a blade.

“If she dies and I live, I will burn down every fucking forest in this place. Every tree. Every home.” His voice rose again, enough to shake the walls, enough that whoever stood with her—whoever dared lay another hand on her—would hear him.

“And if any hand so much as touches her again, I will rip their fucking lungs out of their fucking ass!”

The words came like a snarl, a curse laced with something almost primal. Not just a threat. Not just fury.

A promise.

 

[Rivain]

Rivain exhaled sharply, the sound half a scoff, half a bitter and wounded noise. His fingers curled tightly against the iron cuff, metal searing into his palm, but he barely noticed it. Not compared to the fire Ash had set alight in his chest.

You think she'd be proud of you?

The question twisted deep, lodging itself in a place he thought long dead.

The words landed harder than the should have after nearly eight hundred years without their mother. Landed harder than anything Ash had ever said before. His grip on the cuff tightened, and he pushed the iron deeper into Ash's flesh. It wasn't because he wanted to hurt him, it was because he needed to. He needed Ash to stop talking. His screaming was much better than his questions because truthfully, for the first time in many years, Rivain wasn't sure of the answer.

Vespera's screaming split through the chamber. Sharp and agonized, the sound should have been unsettling for Rivain, but he didn't flinch. It only gave him a creeping sense of satisfaction.

He let the silence settle again, deep and heavy. When Ash tried to wrench forward again, muscles taut with his rabid fury, Rivain met his brother's glare with something much colder. "You have had five hundred years to master your power. I could not stop what our father set in motion, but you are very much unaware of what I have done to distract him from your inadequacies. Five hundred years. To learn control. To understand what you are, what you can do. And yet, here you are- thrashing, burning, spitting curses like a wounded animal. Five hundred years and you cannot control it. Cannot control yourself." Here he was, making threats like a reckless fool. Always lashing out like an untamed beast.

And he had the audacity to speak of pride?

Asher's breaths seemed to be coming in ragged bursts as his body trembled, no doubt feeling the pain more than his face hinted at.

He knew Vespera had not committed the atrocities that the Elderglen faced, but she was tied to them in a way Rivain was just beginning to understand. Something flickered across his face and he bent down to meet his brother, "You swear a new oath just now..." He murmured, letting his gaze linger on his brother's face, searching for something- recognition, surrender, anything. "Well..."He exhaled, fingers loosening and dropping his cuffs. "I will accept it."

He stepped back as Ash sagged against the chains.

"Tell me, Ash-" He lowered his words, a brow raised curiously. "Have you noticed that every time you pull against the irons, she screams?" He saw it the moment it clicked- brief and terrible realization in Asher's eyes before he could shake it away. Before rage drowned out reason. "No one is in her cell. Not anymore. They left at the same time as father did."

He tilted his head, taking in the sharp heaving of Ash's chest. He went on, watching and waiting. "The only one hurting her is you."

Silence settled like a thick fog between them. Rivain let it stretch, let the truth sink in.

"Control yourself. Fix whatever the fuck you have done. Sever this...thread you've bound her in. She is nothing more than a dangerous distraction. I took a vow to protect the Elderglen and you. Not her. Your lack of control will be the half-breed's undoing."

He exhaled slowly. Disappointment marred his features. "Come dawn, I will see to your punishment myself. Do try to behave until then."