Raze the Night (Nightstar Book 2)

When Fennrin reached Lor-Lyntera, he immediately frowned. There were barricades blocking off access to the gate, and there were many armored people defending it.

Fennrin could count at least a dozen, some of who must have been deserters from the army given that they were wearing the lightforged armor he and Ainreth had made. Others were only equipped with chainmail or not even that.

Fennrin’s group counted only six people, including him—a general and four soldiers. But there was hardly need for more when Fennrin was present. Once they were done here, more soldiers were scheduled to arrive to keep peace within the town.

The general—a man named Tyr-Ethas—nudged his horse to move a bit ahead of their group, raising his arm to them to wait. The man so far had seemed too eager to fight the rebels in Fennrin’s opinion, but that opinion was entirely irrelevant.

Fennrin was just so relieved to be getting orders. It took a lot of pressure off him. He yearned to only be told what to do and to do it. It made things so much easier for him, and with how stressed he was, anything was helpful in this regard.

“Immediately end your occupation of this town,” Tyr-Ethas yelled at the people at the gate once he was close enough. “If you do, your punishment will be much lighter. Refuse, and we will be forced to fight you. You will not win.”

Fennrin didn’t think it would work, but it was nice that they were at least trying to solve this peacefully. One of the people dressed in chainmail stepped forward, pointing her finger at the general.

“The people here asked for us to be here. To avoid the constant harassment they receive from the likes of you. They don’t want us to leave. But they want nothing to do with you.”

Fennrin sighed, having expected as much. It would have saved them a lot of trouble if they’d simply surrendered, but Fennrin didn’t mind apprehending them.

Before the general could say anything more, though, an arrow flew at him from somewhere up on the city walls. Fennrin threw out his arm, just barely managing to catch the arrow’s shadow before it could kill the general, jumping off his horse and letting the arrow fall.

“Deal with whoever just shot at me!” the general barked at Fennrin, furious as he made his horse gallop back to their group. “We’ll deal with the ones here.”

Fennrin nodded, running into the shadow of a tree. It was late afternoon, and the shadows all around him were blissfully long, and getting larger by the moment.

To get on top of the wall wouldn’t be too difficult since it faced east, and the rest of the town was blocking out the sun on large parts of it. But between him and the wall was a field of grass that he would have to run over and not get shot.

Fennrin turned into a shadow as soon as he reached the shade of the tree, an arrow flying through the space he’d been occupying just moments prior.

He didn’t let that intimidate him though as he reached the last big of shade he could reach within an instant, turning into his physical form yet again and sprinting to shadow cast by the wall.

A few arrows came flying at him, but he managed to either stop or dodge all of them. Just as he was about to slip into a shadow, one arrow ripped through his cloak, but Fennrin paid it no mind, rushing up the stone wall and appearing on top of the battlements, surveying the place first.

There were only a couple of people up here, all with crossbows, frantically looking around, their weapons at the ready, no doubt intending to try to kill him as soon as he appeared again.

That only lasted for a moment, however, before they started running for the nearest guard tower that would let them get down to the ground, panicked.

Fennrin didn’t let them get that far, though, rushing past them and appearing in front of them, arms outstretched as he made them all freeze in place, much to their alarmed, scared cries.

He didn’t want to kill them, but he didn’t have anything to restrain them with. Fortunately, he noticed rope on the ground close to them.

Fennrin used its shadow to pull it forward, unspooling it and wrapping it around the rebels’ ankles, tying them all together before forcing them to move close to each other, proceeding to tie their chests to each other, rendering their arms immobile as well.

Once Fennrin was sure that they wouldn’t pose any threat anymore, he let them go, the rebels falling and writhing in their restraints uselessly. Some of them yelled curses at him, but Fennrin paid them no mind, moving into the shadows again and melding with them, moving back to his group of soldiers where he materialized.

Much to his shock, all of the rebels that had been defending the gate were dead, blood staining the road. And two of their soldiers had been killed as well.

“There you are, finally,” the general grumbled, holding his arm where he’d been cut. Fennrin could see blood seeping from under his hand. “Open the gate.”

Fennrin nodded, questioning nothing as he turned to the now locked gate. Raising his arms, he clenched his hands into fists, forcing the shadow of the gate to split, opening the gate in the process with a loud groan.

But the moment he did, more rebels came rushing out, arrows flying. Fennrin barely managed to dodge the one going right at him. Acting on instinct, he threw his arms out yet again, grabbing overyone’s shadows, gritting his teeth at the strain of it. There were a dozen rebels here at least.

“Kill them!” the general yelled at him, making Fennrin flinch. He didn’t take his eyes off the rebels, but they did grow wide and shocked.

“What? But, sir, we shouldn’t—”

“Are you questioning me? Kill them.”

Fennrin swallowed. He didn’t want to do this. But he had to do as he was told. If he went against orders, Daryan would get upset with him. And besides, these people had had no problems trying to kill them.

Twitching his fingers, he watched as he made the rebels’ necks snap, letting their bodies fall to the ground.

Fennrin stared at them with sorrow. He wished they could have avoided this. So much unnecessary death. But it wasn’t Fennrin’s place to question anything.

“Good,” the general said, wiping his forehead and putting his sword aside. “Good.”

He then got on his horse, the remaining soldiers following suit. Fennrin petted Star before climbing in her saddle, making her trot after the general unquestioningly.

His stomach twisted when they passed the bodies of the people he’d just killed, though. He couldn’t help but feel awful about it. Killing Orinovan soldiers hadn’t affected him much, but this…. These were Lys-Akkarians. It was simply horrible that they’d gotten here.

But he followed along without a word, only silently studying the terrified faces peering at them from the windows and alleys. After all that death, people must have retreated inside for safety.

Not that they had any intention of hurting them. At least Fennrin hoped. But he just focused on following the general, looking around to find potential threats as they reached the square.

A few people were here, but they seemed on edge, staying close to houses, market stalls, and anything else they could use as cover if needed.

“Your rebel oppressors have been defeated,” Tyr-Ethas said loudly to make sure everyone within the area heard him. “As long as you cooperate, no one else will get hurt. Any sign of hostility will result in your deaths, however.”

Fennrin wasn’t listening very closely, mostly keeping track of the rooftops. He expected someone to show up there any moment, bringing arrows down upon them. But nothing like that happened. Still, he felt strange, like he was being watched.

He climbed off his horse, walking around slowly, not leaving the square, as he looked around. He was expecting Ainreth to appear and defeat him again. Maybe he was being paranoid, but he did constantly fear it.

Fennrin’s usefulness ended where Ainreth appeared, and it made him so very anxious.

A sudden cry made Fennrin’s head snap back to the general. And then he flinched when something hit his shoulder. He looked down at the object, noting that it was a squashed tomato, its juice all over his coat.

Fennrin frowned, scowling at all the people who had now started gathering at the town square, throwing more things at them, much to the fury of the general.

“You are all rebels? Traitors!” he yelled at them, raising his shield to protect himself. Fennrin grabbed the civilians’ shadows to stop them, not sure what he should be doing here. The other soldiers also looked a bit lost, but Tyr-Ethas seemed anything but, his eyes blazing with anger.

“Who is the mayor of this town?” the man yelled at the now gathered crowd. Thankfully they were staying together, though, which made things easier for Fennrin. He doubted he could hold them still indefinitely, but it wasn’t too difficult like this.

“I am,” said an older woman from the back of the crowd. Fennrin looked at Tyr-Ethas, waiting for him say what he should do. The man just jerked his head toward the woman, but that was enough for Fennrin to understand.

He parted the crowd, letting her go and walk toward them. And she did, with her head raised high.

“You are either with Lys-Akkaria, or you are traitors,” Tyr-Ethas barked at her. “Choose.”

The woman narrowed her eyes. “We are loyal to our country. If there are any traitors here, it is you, serving a corrupt leader.”

Tyr-Ethas laughed mockingly. “Traitors, then. And we shall deal with you accordingly.”

The general then looked down at Fennrin, his horse snorting. “Kill her.”

Fennrin gaped at Tyr-Ethas. “W-what? No. She did nothing.”

“She is clearly encouraging the town to be traitors!” he yelled at him. But Fennrin shook his head. He wouldn’t kill a civilian that did nothing. That would just make things worse. “Now do it!”

Fennrin’s eyes flicked over to the mayor, then back to Tyr-Ethas. “I—”

“Or are you a traitor too, Nightrazer?”

Fennrin swallowed thickly. He didn’t want to do it. But he was here to be useful, to help. If a general truly thought this was necessary, then he had no choice.

“Do what you will,” the mayor said, spreading her arms. There was fear in her eyes, but her voice never wavered once. “Show the country what a monster you are, general.”

Fennrin looked at the woman with misery. He had no choice. He grabbed her shadow and with a twitch of his finger broke her neck, letting her body fall.

The people he was still holding in place cried and yelled at them, and Fennrin felt himself nearly lose control over them. He felt sick to his stomach. This had been unprovoked.

He wanted to let go of the crowd, but he knew they’d try to beat them to death if he did. There were too few of them to defend themselves without Fennrin’s powers. And so he held on, even though a part of him wanted to let go. Tyr-Ethas would deserve nothing less for this.

“We will eradicate any rebel, and we will not rest until we do,” Tyr-Ethas yelled at the crowd, his sharp grin just a little unnerving. “This is war, and we will win it. We will maintain peace. Decide if the side of treasonous rebels is the side you wish to die on.”

A shiver ran down Fennrin’s back from those words.

As he looked around the crowd he was still holding immobilized, he saw his parents in the back. They weren’t far away enough, though, to spare him seeing the horror and fear on their faces. The same horror and fear as when they’d disowned him.

And when he looked at the crowd as a whole, he saw the same, paired with hatred as well. As if they were looking at a monster.

Fennrin’s heart hurt, but not as much as he would have expected. Ainreth had been wrong, and Fennrin had suspected it the entire time. People would always see him as a horror, no matter what he did.

Maybe that was his destiny. And maybe he should stop trying to fight it.

The last thing Fennrin expected upon returning to Kyr-Toryl was to be roughly pulled aside by Daryan and yelled at.

“What were you thinking?!” Daryan snapped at him. Fennrin felt himself shrink against the wall when he saw the older man’s glare. “I am now getting reports that all over the country, the rebels are taking over towns.”

Fennrin was as confused as he was scared, his heart hammering in his chest. “I…I just….”

“What?” Daryan said, his voice so cold it made Fennrin shiver. He shrunk into himself further as Daryan towered over him, leaning closer. “What did you just? Kill a civilian without provocation? Is that all?”

“Tyr-Ethas ordered me to do it,” Fennrin defended himself meekly. Surely, Daryan would understand that. But when he met the man’s cold gaze, all of Fennrin’s hopes in that regard disappeared.

“The only orders you follow are mine,” Daryan said as he grabbed him by the arm and started pulling him toward their room. “You are not a soldier. You had no obligation to listen to that man’s nonsense.”

Fennrin bit his lip as he hung his head. He’d thought Daryan might not be mad at him since he’d just done as he was told. But apparently that was wrong as well.

“I will make sure the Bulwark strips Tyr-Ethas of his rank for impulsively declaring war on the rebels like a fool,” Daryan said, his voice terrifyingly even. Fennrin could tell he was furious, even though he didn’t sound that way. What kind of punishment would he get for this failure?

“I’ve received a letter from the Tyr-Naralyn, telling me that he didn’t start this war, but he will end it,” Daryan said as he finished dragging Fennrin to their room, locking the door behind them. Fennrin kept his head down, not daring to say anything.

Daryan gritted his teeth as he started pacing. “We were not supposed get here. They should have been easy to squash without this becoming a civil war.”

“I’m sorry,” Fennrin muttered, flinching when Daryan grasped his shoulders.

“This part is not your fault. You said nothing to make things worse. But by killing the Mayor, you gave our enemies more material for their propaganda.”

Fennrin ducked his head further, so disappointed with himself. He couldn’t do anything right.

“You want to help me, don’t you?” Daryan asked, his voice soft and gentle now. It encouraged Fennrin to risk meeting his gaze. Daryan didn’t look angry, just disappointed.

Fennrin’s heart clenched. Maybe he would have preferred the anger over this.

“Yes, of course. All I want is to help you,” he answered, his voice trembling a bit. He wanted to cry, but that was about the last thing he should do. He’d look weak on top of being incompetent.

“Then you really need to try harder, Fenn,” Daryan said, shaking his head. He looked so very disappointed, and it made Fennrin’s eyes sting. He was trying so hard, and all he did was fail.

“I’m sorry,” he said, sighing heavily as he once again hung his head.

“I am sorry, too,” said Daryan. Fennrin swallowed thickly. He knew it was now turn for his punishment. “Kneel. Your back facing me.”

Fennrin drops to his knees and turns around, swallowing thickly as he leans his forehead against the door.

“Take off your coat and shirt. I would hate to have to repair them,” Daryan ordered, and Fennrin followed suit, his heart sinking when he realizes what Daryan is most likely planning.

As he put his clothes away, leaving himself shirtless and shivering, he risked a glance at Daryan, only to see him wielding a long, thorny whine.

He shut his eyes, a tear flowing down his cheek. He’d get to experience what Ainreth had directly at last. Except Ainreth wasn’t here to hold him still. Fennrin would be doing that all by himself.

He swallowed again, steeling himself for this when he heard Daryan shift the whip, the thorns dragging against the wooden floor.

He would bear any pain Daryan decided to inflict upon him. He deserved this for his failures.

He had to do better next time. He just had to.