Page 101 of An Empress of Air & Chaos

“No, brother, but I wouldn’t have gone down without a fight if someone had hurled a knife towards you, either.” Torin’s eyes met Gideon’s. “They would be dead.”

Torin scoffed a laugh. “Sometimes, I think you would be better in my position than I am.”

“Sometimes I wish I were as fearless as you.”

“That’s not always a good thing.” Torin’s throat bobbed, and he rubbed a hand over his sharp jaw. “Maybe you should get some rest.”

“I think I have had enough.” Gideon tried to move his neck, but he was too weak to lift it fully. “What does father have to say about the battle?”

He lifted his eyebrows. “Another appearance of the Dark King’s knights has rattled him.”

“Viktir Blacksteel has been rattled.” Gideon managed to laugh softly through the shock. “I always thought it would take Veles himself to shake the Commander of the Blacksteel Hunting Clan. Even then, he wouldn’t back down.”

“In many ways, we are alike.” Torin’s lips turned over into a frown.

“In many ways, you are not.”

A few moments of comfortable silence passed between them. He had forgiven Torin for his bold move on the battlefield. A move that ignited round two of the Hunt. A round they had clearly not won.

“Have you an inkling as to what it is that belongs to the Dark King? Two Knights of the underworld seen so close together is never good.”

Torin mulled over the question before he spoke. “I suppose it could be many things.”

“Another ancient relic, perhaps?”

“If not that, then what else?”

Gideon thought it over. “Then why send a Knight of the underworld? They have been on the same evil crusade for millennia. Two knights being seen in such a short space of time is unusual. Dark Knights don’t just turn up without purpose. I think it to be something more, brother.”

“These are not the questions you should be asking yourself whilst you try to rest. We need you to make a full recovery. You won’t return to full health squandering all night worrying about demons and their hobbies.” Torin’s eyes glittered softly.

Gideon half-smiled at his attempt to lighten the mood.

“We will get to the bottom of that. But for now, sleep.”

After the door closed, sleep rescued him from feeling the guilt and sorrow of the fallen.

His men. His friends. His brothers.

This time there were no demons or other dimensions to plague his dreams. Instead, he dreamt of a beautiful face and what it would be like to dance with her at the uplift—given he was fit enough to make it. He dreamed dreams that made his duty feel worthwhile, her laugh, her voice, her eyes. He dreamt dreams that gave him hope for the future.

It had been five days since the Blood Moon battle and Emara did everything she could not to relive the moments of that night. She had taken up reading, particularly about the supernatural world. It was all she could do whilst Gideon lay healing in the infirmary. She hadn’t left his side much at all; only to wash, eat, or train.

Gideon had been sleeping on and off due to Rhea giving him elixirs that soothed his pain, and she had advised it was best to keep him sleeping as much as possible until the magic from the demon blade had left his system. He would heal faster.

Torin had been in and out, tending to Gideon where he could in between his duties, but he was still scouring the city for any remaining demons. To be honest, he looked as exhausted as Emara felt.

The infirmary door creaked open and Cally’s curious eyes peered over the door’s edge. Emara closed the book in her hands gently and gestured for her to come in.

“When was the last time you slept?” Cally asked as she walked in quietly. “I am worried about you.”

“I got a couple of hours this morning after sparring.”

She closed the door silently and walked to the nearest seat she could find. “As your loving best friend, I need to tell you that you look dreadful.”

“Thank you for always being your truthful self.” She flashed Cally a sarcastic smile and the blonde flashed one back.

“No, but seriously, Emara, you need to rest! You are not like these guys…you are not used to the lifestyle. No sleep, all the training—”

---