Page 25 of The Bloodstone Oath

Veyla’s brow furrowed. “Then why did our forebears bind it to Solthorn and demand a virginal priestess?”

“The margins tell the tale,” Elder Eidrian replied, tapping the crumbling notes. “Your ancestors forged the Bloodstone Priestess role to safeguard the gem, then spent a century brewing tinctures and carving runes, hoping to wield Fireforged might against them. The Great Famine shifted their desperation: a priestess bled on Solthorn’s roots, the tree flourished, and blood-rites became doctrine.”

“And now the gem devours Selara,” Veyla said, voice tight. “Cut it free.”

Ligren shook his ivy-crowned staff. “Its roots interlace her heart. Severing it would end her life.”

“So, we wait for a Fireforged prince to save our priestess?” Talia snapped, frustration sparking like flint on iron.

Selara’s cracked whisper answered the unspoken dread. “If he returns…”

Sap-sconces guttered as the door thudded open. Cassian strode in, cloak smelling of rain-soaked bark. “Regent,” he announced, hazel eyes sharp, “the seers have sent word. Their latest vision shows two flames. The Princess Avelina is, indeed with the SeaFae, a creature of her own will, and King Dragan lies on a bier of obsidian.”

Shock rippled through the chamber. Selara’s eyes flickered open. “The flame king has died?” The Bloodstone pulsed like a storm trapped in her chest; dread entwined in every beat.

Talia’s hand flew to her dagger. “Then Kaelor wears the Fireforged crown, or he’s in irons!”

Cassian’s sharp hazel gaze narrowed. “Or he rides with an army. Rootborn lands may burn before dawn.”

“Enough,” Veyla snapped, though fear edged her words. “Scout reports show no Fireforged banners near the border since the prince left.”

“But the leaves are falling,” Selara murmured. Everyone turned. Through the branch-lattice window, scarlet foliage drifted like dying embers. “Solthorn feeds on me, not the soil. If Kaelor fails, Bloomrest starves.”

The god-plant’s distant heartbeat synced with hers, which was fading.

“Cassian,” Selara’s words were so faint only Talia heard them.

“Cassian, she calls for you!”

No one looked more bemused than Cassian as he approached the princess.

“The seers… have them show Avelina her father’s death. Her brother needs her.” Her words were a rustle from parched lips.

Cassian bowed assent. “We will craft the vision tonight, Bloodstone Priestess.”

Vayla visibly winced at her sister’s title.

Selara gazed motionless toward the terrace where the statue of Lyra, their sun goddess, almost forgotten in their worship of Solthorn, gleamed under starfire.

Chapter 14 – Kaelor

Kaelor reined his ember-stallion to a halt as Bloomrest’s moss-mantled wall rose before him. Behind, the healer Varienna still rode strong next to Zaria; the Inferno Guards filed in formation, orange cloaks snapping like sparks against the Rootborn canopy. Sunlight filtered through dying leaves. The omen tightened Kaelor’s chest more surely than any enemy spear. He urged the stallion forward.

At the vine-latticed gate, Cassian stepped from the shadows, hazel eyes sharp as gravestones. Talia flanked him, bow unstrung but ready. Both froze when they recognized Kaelor’s crest.

“Prince.” Cassian’s voice held a knife-edge courtesy. “You return sooner than expected, and with armed company.”

Kaelor slid from the saddle, every muscle aching from their unslept haste. “Warriors who answer only to me. And I bring a prize.” He offered a steadying hand to the elderly Fae as she dismounted. “High-Healer Varienna. Selara needs her now.”

“No outsiders may pass.” Cassian’s distrust of Kaelor had only grown in his absence.

Talia’s gaze darted to the healer’s satchel bulging with vials.

Kaelor stepped close enough for her to smell the soot on his cloak. “On my throne, Talia, if Selara dies while I wait atyour door, your arrows will never fly fast enough to match my flames.”

She jerked her chin toward an interior path. “Let them pass, Cassian.”

Cassian’s protest died when he saw her blade drawn toward his heart. Kaelor gave the scout a grateful nod and swept Varienna into the root-hewn corridors, the guards fanning out like patient shadows.

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