Dayne stood at the window ledge as the morning sun rose, its light spraying over the Rolling Mountains. That was the only downside to his old chambers: they didn't look out over the ocean. But even at that, a lightness filled Dayne's heart as he gazed over the dawn-lit city of Skyfell. Over twelve years, he had clawed and dragged his way through dirt, and blood, and death. But now he was finally home.
Dayne shook his head, rubbing his fingers into the creases of his eyes, wiping away the beginnings of tears, a smile spreading across his face.
"Do you not sleep?" Mera's arms wrapped around his chest from behind, her skin warm. He could feel her cheek pressing against his back, her hair tickling his skin.
Dayne pulled his elbows in, clasping Mera's arms against his body, resting his hand over hers. He ran his thumb over the black ink tattoos on her fingers that marked her as a wyvern rider. "Not much, not in a long time. And not again until Loren Koraklon is cold on the ground, and we are free."
Even the thought of the man who now called himself 'High Lord Loren' made Dayne's teeth grind. The man who had betrayed Dayne's family on the night the empire burned the people of Stormwatch alive.
Mera squeezed Dayne tighter, forcing the air from his lungs. "It's too early for talk of death."
"Mera, let go." Dayne laughed, feigning an attempt to break free.
"Only if you can make me," Mera said with a laugh, shimmying across his back to avoid his grasp.
Dayne turned, lifting Mera into the air, her legs wrapping around his waist, her eyes fixed on his. He traced her face with his gaze, her bronzed skin, the three scars that ran from her forehead to her jaw, her ocean eyes, her smile, the dimple in the left cheek. Was this what it felt like to be happy? He never wanted to lose this feeling. Something in his heart twisted, a pang of worry chilling his veins.
"Dayne, what's wrong?" Mera pulled her legs away and dropped her feet to the floor, reaching up and resting her hand on his cheek.
Dayne tilted his head, pressing his cheek into her palm. Just her touch brought a smile to his lips. He drew in a deep breath, then cupped her face in his hands. "Leaving you here all those years ago was the hardest thing I've ever done." Dayne's voice trembled. "I stood there, Mera. Right outside the door. I never wanted to go. I never wanted to leave you, or Alina, or Baren. I had no choice, Mera. I had no choice…"
"I know." Mera pulled Dayne's head down and kissed his forehead. "What's done cannot be undone. Time only moves forward, and therefore, so can we. We are here, now, and we have a long bloody road to walk. But we'll do it together."
"I love you." Dayne shook his head as he spoke. "I've never stopped loving you."
"You're a lot sappier than you used to be. Have you grown soft?" Mera laughed, holding Dayne's gaze, then let out a sigh, pushing her nose against his. "I love you too." She ducked from Dayne's grasp, the soft morning light touching her bare skin as she pulled a shirt over her head and began dressing herself in her leathers.
"Patrol?" Dayne asked, pulling the strap of her breastplate around and doing up the buckle.
Mera nodded, patting the buckle Dayne had just closed, double-checking his work. "Some imperial ships have been sighted along the coast. Alina wants us to stay visible so they keep their distance. Are you meeting Marlin to break the fast?"
Dayne shook his head, letting out a rueful sigh. "Alina asked me to meet her just after sunrise."
"Ah."
"Why, ah?" Dayne pulled on a linen tunic and trousers, slipping his feet into sandals.
"No." Mera shook her head, pulling her sword belt around her hips and fastening it tight. "I'm not doing this anymore, Dayne. I'm not going to stand in the middle between you two. She is my leader and my friend. You are my heart."
Dayne snatched up the dress Mera had worn the night before and tossed it at her as he walked to the door, laughing as it caught in the air and draped itself over her face.
"You'll regret that," he heard her call as he stepped from the room and out into the corridors of Redstone.
Dayne was only a few feet from the closed door when he realised he was still grinning from ear to ear. But soon his smile faded. His happiness didn't vanish, it didn't wither and die, but it became more subdued. For twelve years, he had carved rivers of blood through Epheria. He had hunted and killed. He had done things he had never thought he would do. And he had done it all for one reason: to come home. Yet now, here he was, walking the corridors of Redstone, Mera in his heart, Alina leading the House, Baren alive, and still he couldn't hold the happiness in his mind. There was too much still to do, too much blood yet to spill. The one thing he had not anticipated about happiness was that once he had it, he would be terrified of ever losing it. Maybe that was his penance for leaving: to never truly know the meaning of peace.
As he walked, Dayne brushed his hand along the reddish stone of the fluted columns that lined the corridors, his fingers slipping into the grooves, the stone smooth against his skin. Morning light drifted through the arched windows set into walls on the right side, carving through the dim corridor, painting bright arches of light on the walls opposite, dust suspended in its beams. The smell of burning oil still lingered in the air from the night before, the gentle citrus aroma of the orange trees in the garden and the city's orchards carrying on the wind.
The familiarity of it all brought Dayne's memories to the fore: charging through the corridors, Alina clinging to his back like a crazed monkey, Baren running beside them, their mother chasing, their father feigning disapproval while he and Marlin laughed. Those days were long gone. But Dayne was still happy to have those memories. Life in Valtara had not been easy. The empire had ensured that. But there had always been love within these walls – something Dayne had allowed himself to forget as the years wore away at him.
The corridor opened to the landing that fronted Alina's study – which had once belonged to their father – and acted as an internal balcony overlooking the entrance hall of Redstone. An ornately carved stone bannister framed the edges of the balcony, dropping on either side into the two sets of stone staircases that led to the ground floor.
Two Redstone guards stood on either side of the stained wooden doors, garbed in bronzed cuirasses and burnt orange armoured skirts, ordo shields strapped to their backs, thick shafted ash wood valynas gripped in their fists. But of everything, it was the bronzed steel of the guards' armoured boots that Dayne settled on; war was here.
Dayne rested his hand on the bannister opposite the doors and looked over the entrance hall where porters, servants, and maids dashed about preparing for the day. Redstone guards stood in pairs about the hall, backs straight, spears gripped in fists.
His gaze lingering for only a moment, Dayne turned towards Alina's study.
"My lord Ateres," the guard on the left said, inclining her head, her bright green eyes visible through the almond shaped slits in her helmet. She had four black ink rings on her right arm, two on her left. Almost a spearmaster, proficient in the blade. "Lady Alina waits for you inside."
Dayne nodded, his mind recoiling at the title. "Thank you."
As the guard motioned to open the door, Dayne reached out his hand, signalling for her to wait.
"Is all well, my lord?"
"What is your name?"
"My name?"
"You do have one, don't you?" Dayne allowed himself a smile and lifted a curious brow.
"I… yes. Tarine, my lord."
"My name is Dayne, Tarine. It is a pleasure to meet you. What is your House?"
The woman paused, glancing towards the other guard. "Tarine of House Valanis, my lord."
"Tarine of House Valanis." Dayne let the name percolate, pulling memories from the shelves in his mind. "House Valanis has served under House Ateres for many a century. It is a proud name. Your father stood alongside mine. May we honour both of their memories by doing the same."
Tarine stood a little straighter, clapping her arms down by her side and giving a deep bow of her head. "By blade and by blood, Lord Ateres."
"By blade and by blood, Tarine of House Valanis." Dayne turned to the other guard. "And your name?"
"Benin of House Andeer, my lord." The young man nodded, bowing slightly at the waist.
"Another fine House." Dayne looked over the two guards, memorizing their eyes. They each looked as though they had seen no more than twenty-five summers. "It is a pleasure to meet you both." Dayne moved forward, stepping past Tarine to open the doors himself.
Stepping into the study was like moving back through time. The three soft couches that Dayne's father had always kept in the centre of the room – that Baren had removed – were now back in place. The old Valtaran weapons that had hung on the eastern wall were gone, paintings and small tapestries of vivid colour taking their place.
"Good, you're here." Alina leaned back against the front of her desk that sat on the opposite side of the couches before the large open window, her orange and white robes held with a bronze clasp wrought into the shape of the wyvern of House Ateres. Marlin Arkon stood beside her, his white flecked hair tied back, orange robes over his shoulders.
"I see you've redecorated. I…" Dayne's voice trailed off as he looked to the western side of the room, where the bookcases lined the wall. Suspended on wooden stands, polished and pristine, were two sets of armour that he would have recognised anywhere in the world. "How…" The moisture fled from Dayne's mouth, his lips going dry, a lump forming in his throat. He looked to Alina, then moved towards the armour, reaching out his hand, his fingers brushing against the hardened leather of what he knew was his mother's cuirass. The leatherwork had been restitched, the surface polished, but it was most definitely hers. It held the same marks and nicks. The spiral patterns of orange and white worked into the dark leather were identical. The sigil of House Ateres along the chest.
A shiver swept through Dayne's body, memories of Sylvan Anura – the Dragonguard – taking Ilya Ateres' head from her shoulders while she knelt on the deck of that boat, her eyes locked with Dayne's. He pushed back the memory, swallowing hard, fighting the tremble in his hand. "Alina… how is this possible? How did you find them?"
Dayne moved his hand to the second set of armour, feeling the cool touch of hardened steel as he set his hand on his father's cuirass. Matching greaves and vambraces were set on a small stool before the cuirass, armoured skirts of white and orange held on branching arms at the middle. A bronzed Valtaran helmet sat at the top of the stand, a crest of white horsehair running from the front to the back. A polished ordo shield sat at the base of the stand, resting against the armoured skirts, the wyvern of House Ateres emblazoned across its front.
Dayne's pulse was a deafening, pounding thump in his head as he traced his hand along the cuirass, his fingers resting on a ridge in the centre of the chest where the steel had been fused back together. The tremble in his hand won out. His breaths grew rapid, and his skin turned cold as he remembered his father screaming at Dayne to run, his cries cut short as Sylvan Anura's blade punched through his sternum.
"They brought the bodies back, Dayne." Dayne didn't turn, but he knew by the sound of Alina's voice that she stood behind him. "They dragged them through the streets like dead animals and strung them up in the main plaza. Loren forced me and Baren to sit day after day and look at them dangling. 'The price of rebellion,' he said. I see mother's headless body every time I close my eyes. I'm not sure if I really remember her face. They left them there for days, the birds pecking at them. They would have left them longer had Marlin and Savrin not cut them down. Even then, Loren tore the city apart looking for them."
Dayne reluctantly pulled his hand from the chest of his father's cuirass and turned to Alina. Her lips were trembling, her eyes raw and red, and for a brief moment she wasn't the fierce warrior, the wyvern rider, the leader. She was simply his little sister. Dayne wrapped his arms around Alina and pulled her close. Feeling her sob against his chest ignited a blend of fury and sorrow in his veins. Dayne held Alina until the tremble in her shoulders stopped. He leaned back, clasping his hands at the sides of her arms, looking her dead in her bloodshot eyes. "We will strip the flesh from Loren Koraklon's bones, we will drive a blade through his heart, and we will leave him as carrion for the birds. By blade and by blood, I promise you."
Alina wiped the tears from her face, a cold look setting into her eyes. "Do you remember what I said? Valtara will either be free, or it will burn. I meant those words. This is the end. The end of chains or the end of breaths. You told me you would stand by my side until your lungs took their last breath, until your heart ceased to beat. You asked me to let you be my sword." Alina turned, a cold fire burning in her eyes. "Well, I'm asking you now. Will you be my sword, brother?"
"I am yours." Dayne clenched his fist and brought it to his chest. Killing was something he had never enjoyed doing, but he had grown to understand the necessity of it. And killing on a battlefield, in the name of Valtara's freedom, was a different thing to killing for coin or for revenge.
Alina nodded. "Good." She clenched her jaw and stepped past Dayne, resting her hand on the bronzed steel cuirass that their father had once worn. Her palm pressed against steel, Alina clenched her fingers into a fist. "I've spoken to Marlin." Alina glanced towards Marlin, who stood silently by the desk, his arms folded. "And I've decided I want you to reform the Andurii. I want you to stand where our father stood."
Dayne's breath caught in his chest. Anywhere Alina sent him, he would fight. Anything she needed of him, he would do. But this… The Andurii had been the finest warriors of House Ateres. The tip of the spear, the beating heart of the Ateres army, blademasters and spearmasters both. In his lifetime, Arkin Ateres had been their leader. Dayne was not fit to lace the boots of an Andurii warrior, never mind wear the armour or hold the shield. It would be like lighting a candle and calling himself a dragon. "Alina…"
"No." Alina shook her head, her lips twisting downward. "You told me you would do anything for Valtara's freedom. Don't you dare tell me you won't do this."
"It wouldn't be right." Dayne held out his arms, showing the two black rings on each. "I haven't earned that. I haven't fought in a shield wall in over twelve years. I'm no spearmaster, nor blademaster."
"But you fight like one." Alina pushed at Dayne's chest, causing him to stumble backwards. "You have the heart of the Andurii beating in that chest! Our father's heart. His blood, our blood. I need this, Dayne. The wolves are circling. They smell weakness. We need to show them that House Ateres is stronger than it has ever been, or this rebellion will die without ever truly taking its first breaths. The Andurii are more than a wall of shields and spears. They are a symbol, a rallying cry. Where the white crests of the Andurii march, our people will follow. I can rule the skies, Dayne. Like our mother did. But if we are going to succeed where others have failed, I need you to carry the wyvern of House Ateres on your shield. I need you to inspire. You are Dayne Ateres. Son of Arkin and Ilya Ateres. You are finally home. Now I need you to fight for it. I need you to sweat, and bleed, and be willing to die for this House and the people in it. If the empire wants Valtara, they will have to pry it from our cold, dead hands. Words are cheap. Show me who you are."
Alina's chest rose and fell in heavy sweeps, her jaw set, her stare fixed on Dayne, fury burning in her eyes.
Dayne drew in a deep breath, then looked to Marlin, who hadn't said a word since Dayne had entered the study. He stared at Dayne for a moment, then moved closer. "Your father once told me that battles are won with steel and skill, but they are lost in hearts and minds. The Andurii are a symbol, Dayne. Of House Ateres. Of Valtara. Of hope. Alina is right. If the people of Valtara see the white crests of the Andurii, see the wyverns on their shields, the cloaks on their shoulders, they will spin legends. Since you were a boy, you've had a fire in you. Where you led, others followed. I can get you steel, and I can find you warriors to wield it. But only you can light the fire in their hearts, make them believe. You watched your parents die. You watched Stormwatch burn. You feel that anger in your bones. I know you do, because so do I. Take it and use it. Don't let it all be for nothing."
Dayne ran his tongue across his teeth, a knot twisting in his chest. He turned back towards his father's armour, running his fingers across the fused ridge on the sternum. "How long do I have?"
"We are currently gathering supplies and mustering, cutting the empire from Skyfell and Ironcreek by the root. We march for Lostwren in three days' time."
"That's not nearly enough time, Alina. I cannot train three hundred men to fight together in three days. All I will be doing is preparing them to die."
"I think you misunderstand me, brother. Marlin and I have talked at length with the commanders and have selected the finest warriors House Ateres has to offer. The best of us. All I am asking from you is to stand at their head. To show the strength of House Ateres."
Dayne's gaze moved between Marlin and Alina, and then down to the ordo shield that lay resting against the stand – his father's shield. He reached down, brushing the steel with his fingertips, then slid his arm through the central strap, wrapping his fingers around the grip near the shield's rim. He hefted the shield, feeling its weight, casting his gaze over the sigil of House Ateres emblazoned across the front. He didn't deserve to hold it. But if that is what his sister needed of him, then that is what he would do. "I will need to meet them."
Both Marlin and Alina smiled, and Marlin inclined his head. "They are already waiting for you, my lord. I can take you to them right now."
Dayne couldn't help but suppress a laugh as he looked between Alina and Marlin. They had already known what his answer would be. He drew in a deep breath and let it out in a puff of air. "Lead the way, Marlin." Dayne turned to speak to Alina. To tell her he would not let her down. But she held up her hand, shaking her head.
"Actions. Not words."
Dayne nodded, allowing himself a smile. "She would be proud, Alina. They both would. I am." Dayne rested his father's shield back against the wooden stand, treating it as though it were as fragile as a pane of glass. "Marlin?"
"Yes, my lord." Another smile touched Marlin's lips as he said the words 'my lord', clearly taking a sense of satisfaction from the uncomfortable look on Dayne's face. "Follow me."
After Dayne and Marlin left, Alina allowed herself to crumple, sitting against the back of the leather couch, leaning forward, her elbows pressing into her quads, her hands clasped around the back of her head. She took in a long, trembling breath and let it sit in her chest, slowing the pounding of her heart. When she could hold it no longer, she let it out in a sigh, pressed her fingers into her scalp, then rose to her feet.
Telling Dayne what Loren had done to their parents' bodies had taken a toll on her she hadn't expected. As had hearing Marlin describe the horrible things that Dayne had seen the night that everything fell. Alina wanted to hate Dayne for leaving. No matter what Mera said… no matter what anyone said. He had been her big brother. He should have been there for her and Baren when they needed him, when their parents' bodies were dragged through the streets and strung up in the plaza. He just should have been there.
When they were younger, Alina had seen Dayne as nothing short of a hero. He had always been so strong and confident, so sure of himself. Now he seemed to question every word that touched his lips. Scars laced his body, and something cold had found a home in his eyes. He was no longer the young man she had always looked up to. He was something else entirely.
Alina wanted to hate him, but she couldn't. Even with everything that was different, Mera was right. He still had the same heart, that same aura that surrounded him. He was a leader of men, whether he knew it or not. Most important of all, he was her brother.
Alina rested her hand on the leather cuirass that had once belonged to her mother. The cuirass Ilya Ateres had worn the day she died. "I'm trying..."