Chapter 19 — Snowfall Beneath a Darkening Halo

That's the first thing I remember.

Not the cold.

Not the screaming.

Just white flakes falling over blood until the mountain looked clean again.

We'd left Bellmere before the survivors finished rebuilding the first roof.

I didn't want to stay.

Every burned house became three small bodies beneath timber.

Every thank-you became the headwoman's scream.

So we kept moving.

North.

Into worse weather.

Cassian hated it.

“This pass closes during heavy snow.”

Seris pulled her cloak tighter.

“Good news. I think we're currently experiencing heavy snow.”

“I noticed.”

I walked ahead of them.

Epitaph hung at my side.

My hand hadn't left the grip in an hour.

Cassian noticed that too.

“Your hand's going to freeze like that.”

“It's fine.”

“You say that a lot.”

“Because I'm usually fine.”

Seris laughed once behind us.

Neither of them believed me anymore.

The blizzard thickened.

Wind slammed snow across the pass, turning the world into a grey-white blur. My wings stayed half open to shield Seris from it.

She complained.

I ignored her.

“We need shelter,” Cassian shouted.

“There!”

An old watch chapel stood against the mountain ahead.

Half the roof was buried.

Better than nothing.

We reached the steps.

Then Cassian stopped.

His hand moved toward his sword.

I heard it a second later.

Metal.

Under the wind.

Someone drawing a blade.

“Inside,” Cassian said.

Seris didn't argue.

That worried me.

We turned.

Shapes appeared through the snow.

Six.

Then ten.

Then more.

White cloaks hid their armour.

Aetherian wings folded against the storm.

I recognised the insignia.

The Seventh Radiant Company.

My old unit.

For one second, relief hit me.

Then I saw their weapons.

Raised.

Captain Maelor stepped forward.

He'd fought beside me at Veyr Pass and once carried Cassian three miles after a spear went through his thigh.

He'd attended my birthday twice and complained both times that Seris cheated at cards.

He looked older.

Maybe mine did too.

“Zyrion.”

I stared at him.

“Maelor.”

His eyes moved to Epitaph.

Then Seris.

Then Cassian.

“Come quietly.”

Cassian laughed.

There wasn't humour in it.

“You marched fifteen soldiers through a blizzard to ask politely?”

“Twenty.”

More figures emerged.

Seris whispered, “That's worse.”

Maelor's jaw tightened.

“I'm trying to keep this from becoming a fight.”

I remembered Bellmere.

The red scarf.

The man I'd spared.

The dead children.

My hand tightened around Epitaph.

“Move.”

Maelor's expression fell.

“I can't.”

“I wasn't asking twice.”

Seris looked at me.

“Zyrion.”

Maelor took one step forward.

“Listen to me. The Council says you're unstable.”

Cassian moved beside me.

“The Council tried to overwrite his soul.”

“I know what they say happened.”

“What they say?”

Maelor looked at Cassian.

“Half the House of Still Waters burned because of him.”

I felt something inside me go cold.

Cassian answered first.

“Because they trapped him.”

“Then let a tribunal decide that.”

“No.”

My voice was quieter than theirs.

Everyone stopped.

I looked at Maelor.

“No tribunals. No Council. No chains.”

His hand shifted on his sword.

Small movement.

Maybe nerves.

Maybe attack.

I didn't wait to find out.

Epitaph left its sheath.

I crossed the space between us.

One strike broke Maelor's sword.

The second cut through his chest.

He stared at me.

Warm blood touched my hand.

His mouth moved.

No words came.

He fell.

Silence.

For a moment.

Seris whispered my name.

Then the mountain exploded into violence.

They attacked.

Maybe they were angry. Maybe terrified.

Maybe I'd proven everything they'd been told.

It didn't matter.

A spear came toward Seris.

I cut the man holding it.

A mage raised both hands.

I didn't wait for the spell.

Epitaph crossed his throat.

Cassian shouted, “Zyrion!”

Another soldier lunged.

I knew her.

Lysa.

She'd once stitched my shoulder after I lied about not being injured.

Her blade shook.

“Please.”

That word.

I hated that word.

I saw Bellmere.

I saw flames.

I saw children who'd never get old.

She lowered her sword half an inch.

I could've stopped.

Instead, I hit first.

Epitaph pierced her armour.

Her eyes widened.

I pulled the blade free.

She fell.

Something dark drifted past my face.

A feather.

Then another fell.

Black.

Not grey from ash.

Black.

It landed against the snow.

My wings flashed behind me.

White light ran through the feathers.

Then one near the edge darkened from the tip inward.

I stared.

A sword struck my ribs.

Pain brought me back.

I turned and drove the attacker into the chapel wall.

Cassian caught my wrist before I finished the next strike.

“Enough!”

“Let go.”

“They're retreating!”

I looked around.

He was right.

The survivors were pulling back into the storm.

One dragged an injured friend.

Another dropped his weapon and ran.

My body wanted to follow.

That scared me.

I took one step.

Seris stood in front of me.

“No.”

“They'll come back.”

“Maybe.”

“They know where we are.”

“I know.”

“They'll bring more.”

“Probably.”

“Then move.”

She didn't.

Snow gathered in her hair.

“You said the next people wouldn't get another chance.”

My jaw tightened.

“They attacked us.”

“Yes.”

“They would've taken us back.”

“Yes.”

“So get out of my way.”

Her eyes moved past me.

Toward Maelor.

I didn't look.

Didn't need to.

“He hadn't attacked yet.”

“He was going to.”

“You don't know that.”

“He reached for his sword.”

“He was scared.”

“So was I.”

The words came out harder than I meant.

Seris went quiet.

Cassian released my wrist.

Nobody moved.

Then a strange sound rang through the storm.

Glass.

A tiny crack.

Pain stabbed through my skull.

I dropped Epitaph.

My hands flew to my head.

Seris was beside me instantly.

“Zyrion?”

“I'm fine.”

“You're on your knees.”

“Temporary problem.”

She looked up.

Her face drained of colour.

Cassian saw it too.

“What?”

Seris didn't answer.

She touched my cheek and tilted my head.

“Don't move.”

“That sentence has never made me want to move more.”

“Zyrion.”

The fear in her voice stopped me.

Cassian stepped closer.

“Oh.”

I couldn't see it.

My Soul Crown floated above my head like it always had.

Warm.

Golden-white.

Whole.

Except it wasn't.

A thin line ran across the left side.

Small enough to miss in a mirror.

A fracture.

“No.”

Seris stood on her toes and reached toward it.

Her fingers stopped beneath the light.

“What is it?” Cassian asked.

“I don't know yet.”

“That's reassuring.”

“Shut up.”

She looked at my wings.

More black feathers had appeared near the edges.

Her expression changed again.

Recognition.

I hated it.

“What?”

Seris swallowed.

“Spiritual dissonance.”

Cassian frowned.

“In normal words.”

“His soul and his actions aren't agreeing anymore.”

The storm felt quieter.

I laughed.

Neither of them did.

“Seriously?”

Seris stared at me.

“The Soul Crown reflects identity, conviction, magic, and chosen oaths. You know that.”

“I'm tired.”

“This isn't exhaustion.”

“I haven't slept in days.”

“Sleep doesn't turn your feathers black.”

“Maybe mine are dramatic.”

“Stop joking.”

I did.

She stepped closer.

“You killed Maelor before he attacked.”

“He would've.”

“You don't know that.”

“I wasn't giving him the chance.”

There.

The sentence sat between us.

Cassian looked away first.

Seris didn't.

“This is Bellmere.”

“What?”

“You're still standing in that burned house.”

My chest tightened.

“Don't.”

“You decided mercy killed those children, so now you're treating every threat like it's already committed the worst thing it could do.”

“I kept you alive.”

“And what is keeping me alive going to cost you?”

I stared at her.

Snow landed on Epitaph's blade.

White against silver.

Red spreading beneath it.

“Nothing.”

Seris looked at my darkening wings.

Then at the crack above my head.

“That's a lie.”

I picked up Epitaph.

Cassian finally spoke.

“We need to move before they return.”

Seris didn't argue.

We left the dead beneath the snow.

Maelor disappeared first.

A white shape behind us.

Then nothing.

By nightfall, we found a cave.

Seris checked my halo three times.

I pretended not to notice.

Cassian sharpened his sword.

Nobody joked.

Eventually Seris sat beside me.

“Does it hurt?”

“No.”

Another lie.

The fracture pulsed whenever I remembered Maelor falling.

She knew.

Of course she knew.

“Promise me you'll rest.”

“I will.”

“And if it gets worse?”

“It won't.”

“Zyrion.”

I looked at the fire.

“I'm exhausted. That's all.”

Seris wanted to argue.

Instead she rested her head against my shoulder.

I opened one wing around her.

Mostly white.

Still mine.

A single black feather loosened and landed beside the flames.

Neither of us mentioned it.

I watched it curl in the heat.

Once, my Soul Crown had cracked because I was afraid of losing who I loved.

That night, I told myself a hairline fracture meant nothing.

Just exhaustion.

Just stress.

Anything but the truth.

I was still fighting to protect the same people.

I was just becoming someone different every time I raised the sword.

And for the first time, the darkness wasn't waiting somewhere ahead of me.

It had started growing feathers.