“Can I count on you, Sevro?” Rolan asked softly.
“Yes, my lord.”
What if he recognized some of them? What if they recognized him and knew of his role in the poisoning? Would they point the finger at Sev to save themselves?
And, most pressing of all—what if Kade was among them?
* * *
As soon as Rolan left, Sev climbed from his bed and opened the window in his sitting area. The sky was purple outside, still clinging to the last vestiges of the day’s saturated sunlight, though most of the view was obscured by a large, leafy tree.
Sev paced for several minutes, until a gray pigeon fluttered onto the ledge. She was plain and unremarkable-looking—and that was the point. With a smile, Sev used a bit of magic to greet her and unearthed a piece of bread he’d hidden from his dinner. He broke it into pieces and set them on the windowsill. As the bird pecked and cooed, Sev flipped up the edge of the plush green-and-gold rug in the center of the room. It was beautiful and expensive, stitched with the horse-and-scythe pattern that was popular among the Stellan-made textiles.
There, hidden under the carpet, was a loose tile. Sev pried it up, revealing a leather-wrapped parcel. Inside there was paper and ink. As the wind rustled the leaves outside his window, filling his room with warm summer air and the bright citrus tang of Rolan’s lemon trees, he began his letter to Commander Cassian.
The foundation of the Phoenix Rider order is the First Riders, legendary figures who fought alongside Nefyra Ashfire, the First Rider Queen, against Nox’s army of strixes. Until this day, Phoenix Riders claim descent from those mighty warriors, though proof of such a bloodline would be nearly impossible to verify, as the First Riders existed a thousand years ago.
What do survive are the myths and legends of their heroic deeds, as well as their personal emblems or sigils. They were often painted onto flags or stamped into leather, passed down on rare artifacts generation after generation.
Despite their noble history, the ancient Rider lines slowly died out. By the time of the Blood War, the only remaining descendants of the First Riders included members of the Ashfire, Flamesong, and Strongwing families. After the Blood War, which saw the death of both Pheronia and Avalkyra Ashfire—as well as the death of the Pyraean governor Adara Strongwing—only the Flamesongs remain.
THE FIRST RIDERS and THEIR MOUNTS
Nefyra
Rider of Ignix
Callysta
Rider of Cirix
Siytara
Rider of Ajax
Adalyn
Rider of Axalea
Halyn
Rider of Meraxis
Talliya
Rider of Ximena
Roza
Rider of Roxana
Myra
Rider of Lexara
Oriyana
Rider of Xhea
Kiyana
Rider of Xelda
Devyn
Rider of Xariah
Natalya
Rider of Elexa
Inara
Rider of Ixiya
Eelya
Rider of Niaxi
—A History of the First Riders, the Morian Archives, 147 AE, updated 171 AE
She was not measured on her own merit or skills.
She was forever standing behind her sister, and
the brightest lights turn all else to darkness.
- CHAPTER 4 - VERONYKA
AFTER YET ANOTHER SLEEPLESS night, Veronyka made her exhausted way to her Pyraean language lessons held in the commander’s study and meeting room.
Though Veronyka generally loved learning, she was growing more and more impatient in her classes, grouped together as she was with the youngsters while the other Riders were out flying patrols. They no longer had to hide their existence…. All of Pyra, and certainly many beyond, knew of their presence here thanks to the battle at the Eyrie. The very battle she’d fought in, the same as Tristan and the others, and yet she was forced to remain behind with apprentices who couldn’t even ride. She itched to be out there with Xephyra, but how could she hope to be elevated to Master Rider when Tristan kept embarrassing her inside the ring?
If she had to remain out of the field, she should at least be spending her time honing her combat skills rather than spending her days going over things she already knew.
Veronyka was the oldest of the new recruits, and she already had a firm grasp on ancient Pyraean. The result was that she often found herself as an assistant to their instructor—a retired tutor from Arboria and a non-Rider. While Petyr—who had disliked Veronyka since she was Nyk and they’d worked together in the stables—would rather eat soaptree leaves than ask for her help, the others, particularly the girls, were eager to have her input.
They were the one bright spot in her schedule. Of the ten new recruits, three were girls, and Veronyka did what she could to support them. She made sure the girls knew they could come to her about anything, and Xephyra was extra gentle with them whenever they approached her with awe, thrilled at the idea that their own phoenixes would grow so big.
When Veronyka wasn’t helping out, their tutor let her spend their lessons reading by herself in the library, a separate room where the commander kept the majority of his books, scrolls, and other valuable items from his time as the governor of Ferro.
Veronyka loved the library: the silence, the solitude, and the precious volumes of Phoenix Rider lore that she’d never encountered before. Poems and biographies, atlases and art history books—all of it was there, and she delved hungrily into the dusty pages. It was strange to realize that this was likely a fraction of the books the commander and Tristan had had in their home library in Ferro, but it was a wealth of knowledge for Veronyka.
If she had loved Phoenix Rider history before, it was nothing like the fervor she felt now. Rather than reading aimlessly, chasing tales of thrilling battles or scandalous romance, Veronyka looked for anything and everything she could find about Avalkyra Ashfire.
Admittedly, there wasn’t much. The commander had been exiled soon after the end of the Blood War, and all mention of Phoenix Riders was forbidden in the aftermath of Avalkyra’s rebellion. No doubt the Morian Archives had made record of the events of the war, but that information wasn’t allowed to be shared or made public. Besides a few propaganda pamphlets distributed by both sides, the commander had little about the Blood War. What he did have were books about Avalkyra’s childhood, particularly tomes dealing with the question of succession between Avalkyra and Pheronia, as well as several volumes dedicated to the Ashfire line, including histories, genealogies, and even books of myths and legends.
Veronyka tore through them hungrily, the name “Avalkyra” jumping out at her every time she found it on a page. Unfortunately, the books didn’t tell her much she didn’t already know—the sisters were close until the death of Pheronia’s mother, the Queen Regent Lania of Stel. Her death was an unsolved mystery, but most people, Pheronia included, believed Avalkyra was to blame. Avalkyra fled justice and set up in Pyra, and that was the beginning of the end for her and her Phoenix Riders.
Veronyka was particularly interested in the genealogy books with their complicated family trees and descriptions of the First Riders and their descendants. Though she’d already been through most of these volumes, Veronyka found herself absently seeking her name instead of Avalkyra’s, as if she might find some ancient ancestor or family to which she belonged. She studied the Ashfire line most closely of all. Could she be a relative? A distant cousin? It would explain why Val had bothered to raise her, even if it wouldn’t explain much else. She didn’t allow herself to hope but rather studied the pages with a detached, almost clinical interest. And of course she found nothing, tracing from Nefyra Ashfire all the way down to Avalkyra and Pheronia, the last members of the royal line.