“And what about the Grand Council?” Tristan asked.
“If Rolan intends to argue his case at the Grand Council, then I will argue ours.”
Tristan glanced around at the others. While they still did not appear surprised by the news, they definitely seemed uneasy about it.
“You mean to go into the empire to represent us? But… they’ll kill you on sight!” This time, when Tristan looked at the others, they avoided his gaze entirely. “You were banished, weren’t you? Never allowed to return. You can’t just fly down there. You’d be playing right into their hands.”
“You forget I was once one of these politicians. I know how they think, and I’m certain I can sway enough votes to give us a chance.”
Tristan clenched his hands into fists. His father’s arrogance was so absolute it was impossible to penetrate—like trying to see through a brick wall.
“They do not want a war, despite appearances,” the commander continued. “If there’s one thing the council hates to lose—besides a battle—it’s gold, and there is nothing more costly than war.”
“You trusted these people before!” Tristan shouted, lurching to his feet and causing his chair to scrape loudly against the floor. “You turned yourself in after the Blood War, and look what happened! You lost your position and your wife.”
Tense silence descended over the room, thick and stifling.
His father’s jaw worked. “Your mother made her own choices, Tristan. I would not presume to take credit for them.”
Or blame, Tristan thought darkly. “Who’s going to be stationed at Prosperity?” he asked. “I’d like to volunteer my patrol.”
“Absolutely not,” the commander said. “Prosperity will be the main hub of our defense. I cannot put our greenest patrol on the front lines. And besides,” he continued, his tone one of grim victory, “you’ve forgotten a crucial detail. Your patrol is a Master Rider short. It would be irresponsible of me to send you out undermanned and underprepared.”
“We could audition a new master,” Tristan said, scrambling for ideas. “It’s not unheard of during wartime. Avalkyra Ashfire was elevated to Master Rider—and commander—during the Stellan Uprising.”
“A formality,” the commander said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “She’d already been leading her own patrol for four years. It is hardly the same—”
“I could audition.”
Tristan turned to see Veronyka on her feet beside him. She swallowed thickly, her eyes round as coins, but her mouth was set in a determined line.
“Perfect,” Tristan said, a challenge on his face, daring his father to pull out some other excuse. Before the war, Riders studied for nearly a decade, beginning as a child right through to the end of their adolescence. But now they had to accelerate the entire process, and with the empire already moving on them? They would have to adapt. Even though soldiers trained for years, in the face of war and invasion, every farmer and peasant who could hold a weapon was a soldier too. Was this any different? Veronyka was a capable flyer and good with a bow. She could keep up in the air and wouldn’t slow the others down. And when not matched with Tristan, she was pretty good in a fight.
And beyond all that, she was Tristan’s best friend and most trusted Rider. There was no better choice.
The commander scrubbed a hand across his face. “She’s had barely two months of training. You can’t possibly—”
“Who better? All the others are too young or less skilled than she is. Her phoenix is strong and flies well with the flock. And most of all, she’s willing.”
“Please,” Veronyka said, her voice quiet but strong. “I can do this.”
The commander fixed them both with a cold, inscrutable stare. He glanced at Beryk, who was frowning, and then to Fallon, whose brows were lifted as if he thought it was a decent idea. Darius looked skeptical.
“Fine,” the commander said, his expression hard. “Your entire patrol will participate, as is the custom when an apprentice is auditioned before properly completing their training. If you can perform as a team and complete the assigned trials, Veronyka will be elevated to Master Rider. Then we can discuss Prosperity. The tests will be first thing tomorrow.”
Ears ringing, Tristan strode for the door. After a nod of thanks to the commander, Veronyka followed.
* * *
Tristan paused in the shadowy hallway. Things were finally happening—maybe not exactly as he wanted, but thanks to Veronyka, they still had a shot at being a real part of the defense effort.
He turned to her. Their eyes met, and a sparkling, kinetic energy crackled between them. She was staring at him with an intense look on her face. “I—you were amazing in there,” she said, lips lifting at the corners with a secret smile. Tristan had the sudden, dizzying urge to lean forward and taste it. “Thank you for supporting me.”
Tristan lifted his gaze from her mouth. “Always,” he said, and she smiled more widely.
“I won’t let you down,” she promised, her expression turning serious.
“I know you won’t,” he said. “You never do.”
They continued to stare at each other, and Tristan felt oddly pulled toward her, as if the world were tilting beneath his feet and gravity was dragging him inexorably forward. Could he kiss her, here—now?
“I’ve—I’m gonna go for a walk, I think,” she said abruptly, and the pull ceased.
Tristan shook his head slowly, trying to banish the memory of that strange feeling, and nodded.
Veronyka turned to go, then stopped, facing him again. “And thanks for the other thing.” Tristan frowned, unsure what she meant. She bowed her head, smiling shyly again. “When you said that I was your second.”
“Right,” he said, forgetting that bit of boldness. His cheeks grew hot, and he was grateful for the shadows.
“I do, by the way. Want it, I mean. More than anything.”
Tristan beamed.
Prosperity was the common name for Queen Ellody’s outpost. The original structure dates back to Queen Lyra the Defender and was used most notably during the Lowland Invasion. It was later restored by Queen Ellody and named for her Reign of Prosperity.
Though the Pilgrimage Road wouldn’t be built for another ten years by Ellody’s pious son, King Justyn, the roots of the tradition of traveling to important religious and historical sites in Pyra began during Ellody’s reign. Some say it was the restoration of Queen Lyra’s outpost that launched the tourist industry in Pyra and thus led to the building of the Pilgrimage Road. Looking for a way to give back to her mother’s homeland, Queen Ellody took the opportunity to enhance the out-of-use outpost’s beauty and celebrate the grandeur of the Ashfire queens and their glorious reign.
The main tower is covered in relief sculptures that rise from the ground all the way to the pinnacle in a continuous spiral frieze, depicting important events throughout history, starting at the bottom with the battle between Axura’s phoenixes and Nox’s strixes and culminating in Queen Elysia’s crowning in Aura Nova. The outpost also features a small temple to Axura, plus a second, shorter tower that is all that remains of the original structure.