Celeste

  Hearing my real name in Fira’s mouth should’ve been impossible, but the part that scared me more was that no one else looked surprised.

  I searched each face, Elena, Tobar, even Darius, and saw the same quiet certainty in all of them, as if they’d been waiting for that name to be spoken aloud.

  Then my gaze found Lioren.

  One look at his expression told me exactly how far my name had traveled, and who had carried it there.

  A cold rush swept through me. My pulse slammed against my ribs. If they knew my name, then everything else I’d kept buried could already be exposed.

  My hands curled instinctively. Ready to summon Light. Ready to run. To do something, anything, before the world closed in.

  The Brotherhood moved around me.

  I took a half step back.

  Fira lifted a hand, palm open.

  “Easy,” she said softly. “Celeste, stop. We’re not here to hurt you.”

  Her voice cut through the rising panic, but the air still felt tight around my throat. I glanced at the half-circle of Brothers surrounding us, the quiet way they watched. Not poised to strike, but ready for something.

  Fira took another slow, careful step toward me. “Truly,” she said. “You’re safe. No one’s raising a blade on you.”

  My breath stuttered. “What is this?” I managed, voice low and tight. “Why bring me out here? What is this about?”

  For a moment, no one answered.

  Darius’s jaw flexed. Tobar shifted his weight. Elena glanced toward Lioren, as if expecting him to speak first.

  Lioren finally looked up.

  “Saints,” he muttered under his breath, running a hand over his beard, “just tell her already.”

  The guilt in his voice twisted something deep in my gut.

  Fira shot Lioren a glare before turning back to me. Her expression softened again, but the tension in the air didn’t ease.

  She drew in a slow breath, her gaze steady on mine. “We know you’re going towards Rodin. To rescue your friend.”

  Lioren really had told them everything.

  My throat tightened. “That has nothing to do with—" I stopped. “Why does that matter?”

  “It doesn't,” Fira replied. “Not the way you think. This isn’t about your real name or your friend.”

  Her eyes flicked toward Lioren. “It’s about him. He told us he plans to join you. To help you reach the place where they’re holding her.”

  A murmur rippled through the clearing, boots scuffing, a low exhale.

  My pulse stumbled.

  “That,” Fira said, letting out a breath that sounded like she’d been holding it since dawn, “is why we’re here.”

  Before I could form a question, Lioren huffed and stepped forward.

  “For pity’s sake—” he said, frustration crackling through every word, “she’s confused, not blind. Can we stop dancin’ around it and just say what we’re all doin’ here?”

  Elena stepped forward. Tobar reached out, as if to catch her elbow.

  “Then why don’t you tell her?” she shot back. “Since you’re the one abandoning the Brotherhood.”

  The words cracked through the air like a struck branch.

  Elena’s face drained a heartbeat later. Her eyes flicked to me, guilt flashing. Her jaw tightened, like she wanted to shove the words back into her mouth.

  “I—Celeste…” she started, voice faltering now, an apology buried under the weight of her true feelings.

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  Lioren grunted, shoulders stiff, his gaze fixed to the dirt.

  Fira shot Elena a sharp look, then stepped in at once, her voice quick, as if she needed to cut the moment off before it unraveled any further.

  “Alright,” she said, “Enough.”

  She rubbed a hand briefly over her brow, the gesture small but heavy with exhaustion. When she spoke again, her tone had steadied.

  “You don’t know our ways,” she said curtly. “Not really. So let me start with how a man becomes a Brother in the first place”

  She glanced once toward Darius, as if confirming something unspoken, then back to me.

  “When someone asks to join, we don’t take them at their word. We don’t test them with questions or chores or promises.”

  Her eyes flicked to Darius again. “The Leader tests them himself.”

  Her gaze returned to me, unflinching.

  “To join the Brotherhood, one must face the Leader in a fight. No weapons. Just his Casting and his strength against theirs.”

  A faint memory surfaced of Lioren laughing over his mug and saying how he had joined the Brotherhood. How Darius had kicked his ass, and nothing more. I’d thought he was exaggerating. Or drunk.

  “It’s called the Proving,” she said. “If the Leader sees enough in you, enough control and enough grit, you’re allowed in. Every one of us here faced him, and every one of us fell. Hard.”

  My hearbeat stuttered.

  “If you enter, it’s because you’ve shown you have the strength to stay. Strength doesn’t lie. When you survive the trial, you speak the oath.”

  Fira’s gaze swept over the others, as if the weight of what she was about to say belonged to all of them.

  “You’ve seen how we are,” she went on. “We travel together. Eat together. Fight together. We’re rarely more than an arm’s reach from each other unless duty pulls us apart.”

  She lifted her chin slightly towards them.

  “But we’re not chained. You saw Lioren stay behind with his friend Brenn. A Brother can wander where he wishes within Orvain’s domain. He can leave our side for days if he needs.”

  Her eyes found mine again, and her tone firmed. “There’s freedom in this life. Plenty of it. The Brotherhood doesn’t cage its own.”

  She paused. “But freedom doesn’t break the bond.”

  She stepped forward, boots sinking slightly into the damp earth. “There is still a tether. Not a chain – but a pull. A Brother is expected to return. To answer when he’s called. Because once you take the oath, you belong to more than yourself.”

  Her gaze held mine.

  “I stand with the Brotherhood.

  Their road is mine, their burden my own.

  Where my Brothers call, I answer.

  Strength is my measure.

  Loyalty my oath.”

  The words hung in the air like dust on a still floor, and something in me went quiet.

  I’d believed Lioren was free to follow whatever road he wished. I hadn’t known that stepping onto mine meant severing himself from his own. Traveling with me to rescue Faylen wasn’t just a choice – it was a departure from everything he’d sworn to.

  Fira let the silence settle before she continued, her voice heavier now. She looked back at Lioren.

  “And that oath isn’t just tradition,” she said. “It binds us to one another. A Brother doesn’t walk alone – and he doesn’t turn away lightly.”

  The shift in her posture, the look on her face, said more than words. I saw anger there. Hurt. And something that felt too close to mourning.

  “When a Brother chooses to walk away,” she said, each word deliberate, “he must face the Proving a second time.”

  My pulse kicked hard.

  “A second time?” I echoed. “What does that mean?”

  Fira didn’t answer at once. Instead, she turned slowly and looked at Lioren.

  “We test all who enter,” she said. “And all who leave. A Brother walks with strength… or not at all.”

  Lioren held her gaze for a long moment. Then he looked toward Darius and nodded once.

  He stepped forward. Boots scraped softly against the earth, his usual swagger stripped clean. The others shifted aside as he passed, neither blocking him nor ushering him on.

  “No,” I said, the words escaping before I even realized I’d spoken.

  I stepped forward, heart thundering. “Lioren, stop. This is my burden, not yours. You don’t have to do this. You can stay.”

  He turned just enough for me to see his face. There was no grin this time. Just a soft, tired smile that twisted something painfully in my chest.

  “Aye, I do.” He said quietly, “I already made my choice, love.”

  And then he turned back toward Darius and kept walking.

  Across the clearing, Darius moved. He didn’t speak or hesitate. He simply stepped into the center, meeting Lioren’s path without a word. His expression was carved from something unreadable.

  I took a step after Lioren–

  –and Elena caught my arm.

  Fira moved in at my other side, boots shifting into my path. Harl stepped forward next, silent as ever, forming a wall with them before I could slip past.

  “Let me through,” I said, breath tight. “I have to talk to him, Fira. This is wrong. He doesn’t have to leave with me. He doesn’t have to face him. He doesn’t—"

  “Celeste— he’s already chosen.” Fira cut in gently.

  “But—"

  “Whether he walks beside you after this or not, the fight will still happen.” Her gaze didn’t waver. “Once a Brother declares he’s leaving, he’s bound to see it through. There’s no turning back. No running from it.”

  Elena swallowed hard beside me, her hand still on my arm, shaky but firm.

  “All of us stand witness,” Fira continued. “Just as we did when he entered the Brotherhood. Our oaths bind us. We cannot interfere.”

  The sadness threaded through her voice was something she was trying, an failing, to hide. Elena’s grip eased slightly, as if even she couldn’t bear the sound of it.

  My lump rose in my throat as I turned back toward the clearing.

  Lioren and Darius stood opposite each other now, far enough apart that the air between them looked stretched thin. The others had formed a loose ring around the space, every face weighted with emotions I couldn’t name.

  It didn’t feel like a ceremony.

  It felt like a farewell.

  The silence pressed in, thick enough to choke on. My pulse hammered, my chest tight, and before I could stop myself, the question I was afraid to ask finally slipped out.

  “At what point… do they stop?”

  Elena’s breath hitched and Harl’s jaw clenched. Fira closed her eyes. When she opened them, the grief in them was no longer hidden.

  “Only when Daris yields or falls,” she said. Her throat worked once before she continued. “…or when Lioren can no longer stand. Or dies.”

  My stomach dropped.

  The world narrowed to the clearing. To the two men facing each other. To the impossible finality in Fira’s voice.

  I was about to speak—

  —and then the fight began.