“What’s this secret mission Brynec is on? Where’s your little lover?” He frowned at her, and she could see the concern in his eyes. “It’s not often I see the Company split up. Kian ain’t here, either. He still angry with everyone?”
“No, he’s maintained control over home with Luykas, and we decided he needed more time to settle after Senri was taken from him. Even with her back…let’s say, they had some things they needed to work through,” she explained. “I know, we’re completely split up right now. It’s not comfortable, but we have you, and now, we’re heading back.”
“And Bryn?” Sen didn’t drop it.
She’d been trying to skip it, but the captain was beginning to look like a hunting dog on a scent. Her chest tightened painfully as she thought of the weeks since she had last seen her rogue lover—his lean form, bathing in a hot spring, his careful dedication to keeping their home clean, his blue zircon eyes, the same color as the summer sky.
Skies, I miss you, Bryn. Please be safe out there.
“He’s scouting north of us, looking over Anden to see what the best strike locations might be and how to drive the Elvasi out of our homeland,” she finally answered, giving in to his stare. “He’s been gone for six weeks now, and Alchan has banned me from asking for reports from him or Leshaun. He’s got one of Leshaun’s books.”
“Ah. I threw mine into the sea when I realized the ship was going down. A lot of important things are kept in those books.”
“So I’ve heard. Oh, here’s food.” She saw Zayden bringing a large, heavy pot their way. Mat ran over to help him, and they got it settled over the fire. As bowls were filled, she continued. “So, this was the first real thing we’ve done as a rebellion. Without getting you back, we would have been dead in the water.”
“Well, I’m glad to be of service,” he declared, taking his bowl. “Let’s get this rebellion moving!”
“Let’s get back to the village first,” Matesh said, chuckling.
Sen thought about it for a minute and eyed her.
“Please,” she added. “We’ve been on the road at a rough pace for three weeks, and half the unit is wounded to some degree.”
“Fine! Then we’re going to get this rebellion fuckin’ moving!” Sen grinned, all that charming sailor attitude on display.
“Perfect,” she agreed, smiling in return.
2
Brynec
Brynec climbed the side of the cliff, enjoying the physical activity more than flying to his destination, which he had been doing for weeks.. Anden was covered in mountains, most of them long dead volcanos, and towns naturally formed around them and the rivers that flowed from them. He was weeks from home and tired, but he had to keep looking, had to keep learning. He had one mission—to see what was left of their homeland and who was currently living in it.
He’d done the western coastline first, seeing how the Elvasi held a few strongholds on the water, but as he traveled back inland, even small homesteads became rare as the weather turned bitterly cold and the terrain became precarious.
Ain’t nobody livin’ out here. Alchan is goin’ to be happy.
Another village, devoid of anyone. The only thing he saw now when it came to the Elvasi were the irregular military units that patrolled the country and the more frequent but less dangerous hunters. Anden was always a wild country, everyone knew it, but it made Bryn confused to see the emptiness. Even if the Elvasi were having a hard time, they could have used the homes and towns built by the Andinna. Not everything was on a cliffside. There were a number of towns based in valleys along the roads, safer than any of the mountain towns and villages, but even they were deserted.
“Nothin’ makes any sense anymore,” he muttered aloud. “They hold all their strength on the coast, and we could never break through. Every Andinna I’ve ever met had been certain Anden was completely colonized, but…it’s not.” He huffed, shaking his head. “Did they really find it that hard to live here? There’s nah way. Elvasi are a long-lived race. They should have been able to tame and beat the land into submission after a thousand years and have an entire boomin’ culture.”
Every day he asked himself the same questions, and every day, he had no answers. He couldn’t bring himself to send a report in for two weeks because he was confused by the lack of Elvasi in the heart of Anden. He was certain he would find something of worth to report, eventually, and if he found nothing, he could report a large, empty area with few threats. He pulled out the small leather book from his pack and flipped it open.
The last thing Leshaun had to tell him was that they were proceeding with the mission to save Sen and the others lost during their attack on Ellantia. He’d had no word since, but maybe that was just because of their business. Freeing hostages wasn’t an easy mission, but he knew why they were doing it. They needed Sen and his sailors, and they owed it to the Hornbuckles. None of them would have been captured if they hadn’t been friends of the Andinna and helping them. With Sen and the boys back in the fold, they would have transport out of the continent if they needed it. They would just need to capture a new ship, something they had done enough now, it should prove an easy task.
They’re off savin’ friends, and I’m here, dickin’ around in the middle of Anden with no one and no real objective anymore. I was supposed to be finding out the best places to attack to chase them out of our borders, but there ain’t no one to chase off.
Fuck, I just want to get back to the mountains and see them. It’s fuckin’ lonely out here.
He couldn’t report that, so he tucked the book away and started climbing again. This mountain had a village at the base, but he was interested in what lay at the top—a temple to Kristanya, their dragon goddess of war, death, and darkness. For some reason, he wanted to be there, wanted to see it. He’d never had the chance to visit any temples when he was young, before the war was lost. He remembered his childhood, then slavery. This was his first chance to explore something so important to his people, and it felt like the right goddess to pray to. They were trying to find footing to start one of the greatest fights for their people of all time.
He grew tired halfway up, and the sun was beginning to dip. He didn’t want to rely on flying because he was tired of it, but he gave in, knowing he wouldn’t reach the temple before nightfall without it. If he’d flown originally, he would have been up in only moments.
He stopped on a small cliff and jumped, letting his wings catch the wind. With only a few flaps, he was gaining altitude quickly and found a warm updraft, letting it help him soar even higher. Andinna temples were once renowned for their construction. Climbing to them was considered impossible, and most times, it was. As he rose, he saw that he was about to reach a smooth cliffside rising up over three hundred feet. He would have been stopped there, with nowhere to go except down if he didn’t have wings.
He continued up, higher and higher until finally, he saw it.
A large hole was blown out of the mountain and carved into something beautiful. Pillars made of the mountain stone reached to the ceiling and sculptures were carved into the sides. He landed and took in the master work—dragon sculptures, weaving in and out of each other, breathing fire, but not battling each other. The vicious nature of the sculptures was pointed outward, imposing to all who entered the temple. A warning, even a challenge if one was brave enough. To tread in this temple was to tread in the eyes of Kristanya, and she was always ready for war.