Raze the Night (Nightstar Book 2)

It seemed that Orinovo itself had realized what they were planning because so far, there hadn’t been that much opposition stopping their march on the capital, likely meaning that the queen was calling her soldiers there to protect her instead. Ainreth couldn’t say he was surprised by this given that Neven had run off, which meant that he’d definitely told her everything, and also due to the queen generally not being above letting her subjects deal with the Lys-Akkarian army on its own when it meant protecting herself.

Ain should be happy about this, too, because it meant that fewer people would be getting hurt by them, fewer casualties on both sides, but he wasn’t, namely due to the hungry glint he’d seen in some of the other generals’ eyes. The misborns wanted to use this as an excuse to grab territory. He just knew it.

Not to mention that Varilik was up to something. Ainreth hated that his words made sense because he had nothing to prove to Fennrin that something was going on, but he was sure there was.

The fact that the Herald was here was strange in and of itself. This was war, they were on enemy territory on the first lines, and while, yes, they were beating Orinovo at every turn, and the Herald’s presence was boosting morale, much to Ainreth’s irritation, it was still strange for him to be here.

Orinovo had attacked them several times now during the night, most likely partly because Ainreth couldn’t use his powers then, and partly the soldiers didn’t wear their indestructible armor while sleeping. This forced them to increase the number of people guarding their camps and finding well defensible places to set those camps up until they could be sure that they wouldn’t lose people to ambushes. Varilik could have died during one of those, and while Ainreth would have certainly not shed any tears over that, it wouldn’t be good for their country in the least.

But who cared, he supposed. If that old misborn wanted to die, then he could go right ahead. Ain was sure they’d elect someone new quickly. What worried him more was Fennrin. Namely his constantly growing power.

At first Ainreth had been supportive of it. It was nice to see Fenn be so self-assured and strong. But now that he was killing dozens of Orinovan soldiers at once without batting an eye, Ainreth couldn’t help but wonder how that was affecting him mentally. But unfortunately, he hadn’t had a chance to bring it up because every time he did, it became a discussion about if what they were doing here was right, which Fenn always won because he was right, dammit.

What were they supposed to do? Go home and hope Orinovo wouldn’t attack again, potentially with a force not even the joint forces of a lightweaver and shadowforger could defeat? But that didn’t mean he had to like this.

And not to mention that just because Fenn was incredibly powerful didn’t mean he wouldn’t get hurt or worse. Both of them were the ideal targets for Orinovan soldiers because without them, Lys-Akkaria would lose.

But they couldn’t stay away because Lys-Akkaria’s army wouldn’t be able to stand on its own. It was a very annoying predicament, and a stressful one at that. Ainreth wasn’t used to worrying about specific people while on the battlefield like this. Sure, he’d always worried about Petre, but no one was trying to actively go after them.

Ainreth ran his eyes over his second-in-command, then, wondering if that was actually true. He certainly hoped it was. He couldn’t handle losing his mind over the safety of two people, but aside from that one incident where Petre had gotten kidnapped years ago, no one had dared touch them, so Ainreth was confident that he was right.

“What?” they asked, looking up from the mushroom cap they were grating to make a new batch of healing tonics. Ain had come visit them in their tent just to make sure they were okay, and hadn’t quite managed to get himself to leave just yet.

“Nothing, just thinking.”

Petre snorted, a very amused smile on their face as they turned their attention back to what they were doing, finishing grating the mushroom into little more than dust. There was a large, glass bottle in a metal stand full of murky water on the ground where they were both sitting, which Ainreth periodically shone intense light at to keep the water near boiling while Petre slowly added one ingredient after another.

“You, thinking? Do you require a healer?”

Ainreth rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t help but feel the urge to laugh a little. Petre and their sass were always a treat, even if said sass was aimed at him. “Hey now, I will stop heating up this water.”

Petre chuckled, adding in his latest, ground mushroom to the glass. “You wouldn’t endanger your soldiers by thwarting the production of my tonics, would you?”

Ain shook his head, huffing out a laugh. Of course he wouldn’t. He wished there wasn’t an increased need for these, though, but unfortunately there was nothing to be done about it. At least Petre wasn’t the only one who could do it here because if they were, Ainreth would probably have to guard them so they wouldn’t get harassed by people who couldn’t wait their turn.

The sun knew he’d had to temporarily blind a few people to leave Petre alone already, just because they didn’t want to hide their Orinovan heritage. Ainreth had been a bit worried about that now that there were many different regiments fighting together, but if there had been any issues, he hadn’t heard of them happening. And he hoped Petre would tell him if there was a problem.

“Excuse me, sir?” came a familiar voice from the direction of the tent entrance, making Ainreth look that way, only to see Enlin’s head poking in, the flap of fabric covering the entrance pulled aside. “Our regiment has been ordered to head south.”

Ain was at his feet immediately, tilting his head in confusion at her. “South? Why? Ordered by who?”

“The Bulwark and the High Herald,” she replied, walking inside, bowing her head at him quickly. Ainreth was too confused and surprised to tell her to relax. “Scouts arrived a while ago. They said there is unrest in a few Orinovan towns. We are supposed to go and confront the locals. Calm the situation down.”

Ainreth scowled, which made Enlin flinch, and while he did feel bad about that, he couldn’t get himself to stop. Yes, unrest within the civilian population wouldn’t be good, and it could very well inspire a full-scale rebellion in the entirety of Orinovo, which would be awful because he really didn’t feel like fighting and killing innocent people.

But at the same time, the fact that his regiment was being sent to do this made him suspicious, especially because apparently Varilik was involved in this. Why was this so important that the Daybreaker was necessary? Was he supposed to scare the population into compliance? Because he didn’t really feel like doing that.

“Right. Thank you, Enlin,” he said as he walked toward the exit, giving her a pat on the shoulder, and then another on her head and her short, brown hair. He barely noticed the wide-eyed look she was giving him, too lost in his thoughts as he stuck his head outside, scanning the scene with a frown.

There were soldiers moving around, some carrying things back and forth, but no one was really packing up their tents. Though Ainreth supposed those rebellious towns might not be too far away, perhaps they were close enough that they wouldn’t need to bring tents with them. Still, he wondered how many people had been sent with them to go deal with the situation.

Turning around, he looked back at Petre. “Can you finish up the tonic by yourself? I need to go talk to Fenn.”

Petre nodded, frowning down at the bottle of steaming liquid harder. “Yes, it should be fine. Maybe heat it up one more time before you go?”

Ain pointed a finger at the bottle, not bothering to walk to it again, sending a ray of intense light at it and bringing it near its boiling point in a second or two. Getting a wave from Petre then, Ainreth walked outside, looking around as he searched for his boyfriend.

If that misborn Varilik was talking his ear off again….

Ainreth took a deep breath, trying to push these thoughts away before he went on a mental rant again. He wasn’t jealous, dammit, he just didn’t want Varilik trying to manipulate him, or something. Fenn was too trusting, and the blighted Herald was talking advantage of it. But there was no way to bring it up to Fennrin without seeming paranoid.

“Oh, Ain, there you are,” Fenn’s voice came from behind him, forcing him to stop and turn around. His smile at seeing Fennrin quickly ebbed though when he saw the other man’s serious expression up close. And yes, Fenn tended to be in general serious, but he usually didn’t look this way at Ainreth.

“Something wrong?”

Fenn grimaced, shrugging. “I assume you’ve heard you’re being sent to deal with some rebelling civilians.”

Ain was about to confirm when he noticed that Fennrin had used the word you. Immediately, he narrowed his eyes. “You mean you aren’t coming with me?”

Fenn shook his head, his pretty, blue eyes quite sad. And so was Ainreth. This trip had seemed unpleasant as it was, but now his Fenn wasn’t even coming along? Great. “Where are you being sent instead?”

“Nowhere,” Fennrin replied. “I am to stay here and protect the camp.”

Ainreth set his jaw. He felt ridiculous for thinking it, but he couldn’t help but wonder if this was on purpose. To separate him and Fennrin, most likely done by Varilik. He did feel paranoid for entertaining those thoughts, though.

If the rest of the soldiers were to stay here and wait for them, it made sense to leave one of them here, seeing as they were the strongest people available. It did seem strange to prioritize dealing with a few rebels over pushing on to Diramisk, though, but Ainreth wouldn’t think about this too hard. He was a general and had a lot of say in these things, but if the Bulwark decided something, that was ultimately where the decision would end.

“Right.”

Fenn sighed, lowering his gaze to the muddy ground, his shoulders sinking. “I tried to argue that we were stronger together, but no one listened.”

Of course they wouldn’t. It was a needless risk to send both of them. And if the point of this was to make the civilian population afraid of fighting back, then sending Ainreth was probably better, as the Daybreaker was a more well-known symbol of Lys-Akkaria. Then again, even just now, the Nightrazer might be a much more terrifying figure.

Maybe a little too terrifying if they didn’t want to make everyone in Orinovo hate them, which was ridiculous because Fenn, outside of his shadowforger powers, wasn’t terrifying at all. Certainly not when he was standing out here in a tunic and some pants, practically pouting.

Ain leaned in to kiss him, brushing a strand of Fenn’s blond hair behind his ear as he did before drawing away just enough to look into Fennrin’s eyes. “Be safe then, huh?”

Fenn huffed, smiling sadly. “I should be saying that to you. I wish I could go with you.”

Ainreth sighed. Yeah, he wished that, too. “It’s all right. I should be back soon.”

Suddenly, Fenn’s gaze became so piercing that he Ain almost flinched. He knew this look well, though—it was the one Fenn always used when he was about to call Ain out on saying nonsense or being a hypocrite.

“Do you promise you will be careful?”

Ainreth couldn’t help but smile at him, kissing him again as his heart fluttered. “Of course, liri. I promise. Though, I might get lightly injured. Just so you can then fuss over me.”

The withering scowl Fenn gave him for that was more than Ain had been expecting, blinking at the intensity of it. Fennrin didn’t even have to say anything—that look was doing all of the work.

“Okay, fine. Fine. I won’t joke about it. It’s going to be fine.”

Fenn sighed, shaking his head before embracing the lightweaver, pressing his nose to the crook of Ain’s neck. And Ain didn’t wait, following suit. “I just always get worried when we are separated.”

“I know.” Ainreth kissed the top of Fenn’s head, cradling him closer. He was aware some of the soldiers around them were staring, but he didn’t care enough to tell them to mind their own sundering business. That was what they got by working with other regiments. As if him and Fenn dating was a new revelation after several months. Idiots.

“I hate being away from you, too,” said Ainreth, shaking his head. Two months of vacation, that was how long they were going to go away for. At least. Maybe three, depending on how much he could guilt the Bulwark. “We’ll cuddle plenty once I get back.”

Fenn did laugh quietly then, though he didn’t sound very happy anyway. But Ainreth was very determined to keep his promise, even though he had been joking a little.

“Just…be careful,” Fennrin repeated as he pulled away, pointing his finger at Ainreth, which made him grin at how adorable it was. “And come back to me.”

He saluted with a chuckle. “Yes, sir.” He wanted to make a joke about Fennrin better not letting anyone seduce him while he was gone, but it felt in poor taste, and Fenn would probably just overthink and assume Ainreth expected him to cheat on him, which was a crisis Ain didn’t want to be responsible for.

Kissing Fenn’s forehead, Ain smiled at him, preparing to leave.

“Don’t get into trouble while I’m gone,” Ain joked as he waved at Fenn, who rolled his eyes, a smile dancing on his lips as he waved back. Ainreth started to walk to their tent, intending to pack and put on his armor. He wasn’t sure when exactly they were leaving, but he assumed sooner rather than later.

And as much as he wanted to bring Fenn with him, spend time together until then, he knew he’d get nothing done. Last time, they’d ended up making love. So, probably for the best to separate already.

Ainreth sighed. They’d better get this over with quickly.

Even from a distance, Ainreth didn’t like the looks of any of this. When he’d been told that a few towns were rebelling against Lys-Akkaria’s army, he hadn’t expected the first to be walled off, with its gate closed, people with bows at the ready on top of the walls.

Clearly, the Orinovans weren’t interested in diplomacy, which was fine with Ain. He had never been good at that. But he also didn’t see what they were trying to do here. He had expected the problem to be that Orinovans could gather a militia and attack them from behind, but these people had sealed themselves in. They were clearly not on the offensive.

He was incredibly curious what that moron, general Onrymin’s plan was going to be. Onrymin was one of the most annoying leaders in the Lys-Akkarian army, and Ain would love to know whose bright idea it had been to put him in charge of this operation. That was not to say that Ain himself had wanted to lead this, but he would have if he’d known Onrymin was the one who would be commanding all of them.

Once again, Ain had to wonder if this was on purpose to irritate him, but even he didn’t think that he was the center of the universe enough to manage this. Then again, Varilik did hate him, so who knew what was possible.

“Right,” said Onrymin to their group of about a hundred soldiers as he turned his horse around, pointing at Ainreth. Of course he would sundering point at him. “Tyr-Naralyn, you’ll use your az-ari powers to take out the archers, the rest of us break the gate down.”

Ain stared at him with a raised eyebrow, Sunray snorting beneath him, making Ainreth pat her side absently. Clearly, even his horse knew this was stupid. Not to mention far too simplistic. He was confident in his abilities, but he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to make sure not a single person would shoot at them. He could miss someone.

“Take out? I assume you mean temporarily blind?”

Onrymin shrugged. “Just make sure they don’t kill any of us.”

Ain shook his head, looking to his right at Petre, who looked even more irritated than usual. Good, that was fair enough. This plan was stupidly simple, even for Onrymin. And yes, it was unlikely that this poor town could stand against them, but they weren’t here to butcher them. Nor were they here to potentially lose soldiers by barging in.

The town wasn’t too large, but there were at least a hundred people living in it, judging by the size, which meant potentially a hundred people who could try to fight them. And even though there was no doubt about Lys-Akkaria winning this, those potential casualties were pointless, wasteful, and most of all disrespectful to the soldiers themselves. Not to mention all the civilian casualties.

“Why are we even attacking?” Petre asked flatly. “They don’t seem to be interested in anything except self-defense.”

Onrymin’s gaze turned to Petre immediately, darkening as he smirked when he saw who had spoken. Ain immediately knew what was going to happen before the man even replied, but he was too late to stop it.

“Of course the Orinovan half-breed would say that,” Onrymin said, chuckling. “If you wish to join your kind, feel free.”

Petre gritted their teeth, but before they could presumably tell Onrymin where to shove it, Ain couldn’t handle his outrage at his little guy being talked to like that.

“Talk to my second-in-command that way again, Onrymin, and I will burn your sundering eyes out,” Ainreth growled at him, making himself glow to underline it as he glared at the other general fiercely.

Onrymin kept his smirk, but now it looked much shakier, his eyes intimidated. Good, Ain didn’t want to explain to the Bulwark why he’d felt that one of her generals needed to be blinded. He would if necessary, of course, but it would be annoying.

“Anyone else feeling like questioning Petre’s loyalties for no reason?” Ain snapped at the rest of the soldiers, glaring at all of them as the glow around him intensified. No one dared say anything.

“Good,” Ainreth said after a short bit of silence, nudging Sunray to move so that they were in front of the crowd, turning her around so he could speak to all of the soldiers, despite Onrymin’s death glare. He was probably just angry that Ain was more or less stealing his command. “Now I think we can all agree that killing civilians isn’t why we are here.”

A mutter went around the group, but no one actually said anything. Also good. “We will give them the chance to surrender, protecting us and them both. Or is there someone who is hoping to kill civilians?”

Ain scowls directly at Onrymin then, unable not to enjoy the fact that, while the man was glaring back, he wasn’t saying anything.

“Great. Then I supposed we can go ahead,” he said, nudging Sunray so she carried him back to Petre, turning around and waving his hand toward Onrymin. “Go ahead, general.”

With one last glare, Onrymin got started on his nonsense again, talking about some supposedly inspiring speech about the Orinovans not having a chance against them. Yes, Ain didn’t doubt that was true, which was why he didn’t like this.

“Do you think they will surrender?” asked Petre in a low voice, leaning toward Ainreth. And all Ain could do was shrug, not knowing what answer to give them.

“I certainly hope so.”

As they got moving, following after Onrymin, who was clearly at least not coward enough to not go first, Ain didn’t take his eyes off the archers on the walls for one second, hating that the battlements were tall enough that they could hide behind them well enough for him not to see them. If someone on their side died today, it would be a horrible failure.

He sped up a bit as they neared the town, getting in front of everyone in an effort not to blind them too, turning himself and his horse invisible as he did. It was difficult to aim his light when he had multiple targets, so it was better to be safe.

Seeing the archers already taking aim despite the rest of the army being quite far away still, Ain did his best to concentrate over the noise of the army behind him, pulling at the light around him before aiming it in several beams at the bowmen he could see, trying to hit their faces while not damaging their eyes permanently, but it was difficult when he was still fairly far away, the archers barely visible to him.

He felt a grim sense of accomplishment when he heard their cries, dropping down to the ground and out of sight, hidden behind the battlements while others rushed to help the afflicted. Ain used that opportunity to shine intense light in their faces, too, already feeling the strain of concentrating on both staying invisible and attacking. He wouldn’t be able to keep this up for long.

Nudging Sunray into a sprint, Ain moved closer, knowing the shooting at people with his light made him easily pinpointed, since all of those beams always came from him, and he didn’t feel like being shot with an arrow, even with his armor protecting him.

Once he was almost by the wall, close enough to see the panicked archers’ faces, but far enough to still see them over the battlements, Ain struck again, blinding more of them and making the rest hide from sight, much to his annoyance. How was he supposed to manage to deal with all of them before the army got here?

Ain threw a look over his shoulder, seeing his fellow soldiers approaching at a breakneck speed, clearly encouraged by his attack, but there was no way he could make sure no one would get shot like this.

Sunder! This was exactly why this was a stupid plan from the start. But there was no stopping this now.

Ain doubled back, joining their army and making himself visible again, shaking his head as the strain on him from maintaining that left him. The best he could do was try to bend light against the archers as they took down the gate. Which Ainreth was only now realizing wouldn’t be done with a battering ram because of course it wouldn’t—they hadn’t brought one with them, and Ain just hadn’t realized because he had been too focused on his grumbling about doing this in general.

Which meant they were going to likely use their flamewielders to burn the gate down, given that it was made of wood. Or the windwalkers to knock it down, but knowing Onrymin, he most likely chose the first option. And he’d probably said as much before because he wasn’t that awful of a general, and Ain had just not been listening.

Dammit.

His assumptions proved correct as a group of people he knew to be flamewielders took charge, heading right for the gate. And that was the moment he saw a few bowmen pop up from behind the battlements, their bows already drawn.

Panicking, he threw harsh light at them before they could fire. Ain cringed as they went down, holding their faces, knowing that he’d more than likely done too much damage, but it was too late to take it back.

He didn’t even get enough time to properly process it had happened before he noticed more archers readying to shoot, too far apart for Ainreth to easily hit them at once. So throwing his hands out, Ain did the only thing he could think of in that moment—he used the fact that their lightforged armor was very shiny to their advantage.

Throwing a wide beam of light at the Lys-Akkarian soldiers, not bright enough to be more than a nuisance, but encompassing most of them, the light bouncing off the chestplates right back at the archers.

The effect was immediate as they threw their hands over their eyes in an attempt to shield themselves from the intense glare of the light, making Ain smile grimly as they reached the already burning gate. The flamewielders were gathered around, the heat of the flames licking at the wood so intense that Ainreth could feel it from dozen feet away.

Waiting for them to finish burning the gate to ash, he picked off the few archers left, watching the walls to make sure no one else was showing up to shoot at them. His hand immediately flew up when he saw someone get up, but then he paused when he saw what they were doing. And a relieved breath escaped him.

A white flag was flapping in the wind.