SONG VIBE: Blue Side - J-Hope

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  SAPHIRA

  Smuggler’s Way, Horrocks Pass

  When they finally veered off the thin mountain path, the trees gave way to an imposing cliffside. In the dim light, a jagged cave mouth loomed before them, its darkness deep and uninviting. Felix dismounted Benny, landing with ease.

  Saphira, exhausted and sore, tried to slide from her saddle but stumbled, her legs weak and unsteady. Before she could hit the ground, Felix was there, his hands firm under her arms as he steadied her.

  “Careful,” Felix said, his voice tinged with worry. “You’ve been holding on too tightly.”

  She flinched at the contact, the heat of his palms on her ribs unfamiliar and startling. Saphira instinctively pulled away. She clutched her arm, sensing the wet, warm feeling of fresh blood. “I’m okay,” she reassured.

  Felix’s expression darkened as his gaze dropped to the fresh stain of blood seeping through her clothes. “You’ve been bleeding this whole time?” He scolded, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “I didn’t want to slow everyone down." Without a veil, it made it difficult to avoid his gaze. She pulled her fur-lined cloak tighter around her shoulders.

  “You’re not slowing us down. You’re making it harder by keeping quiet." His frown deepened. “I’ll get August to look at that. Sit here—don’t worry about a thing.”

  He handed Scarlett’s reins to a soldier and disappeared into the growing gloom. Saphira perched herself on a cold rock outside the cave, her body aching from the day’s ride. The shadows seemed to thicken around her, the eerie sounds of the forest merging with the low whispers of the soldiers around her. They looked at her with suspicious eyes—their gazes falling to the hidden curve of her belly with scepticism.

  I’d be suspicious of me too, Saphira thought, The daughter of the Duke…the same Duke who tried to deceive and then kill them? Suddenly pregnant?

  Saphira wanted to put her veil back on so that no one could see the tears welling up in her eyes. I don’t belong here. Saphira bit the tears back, the baby in her belly making her feel more emotional and vulnerable than normal, I’d take a lecture from Matron Helena if it meant a cup of tea and a soft bed.

  August emerged from the cave, a torch in hand. The flickering light danced across his pale features, casting sharp shadows over his high cheekbones and the faint grey tint to his skin. His grey, piercing eyes seemed to absorb the firelight rather than reflect it. He planted his torch on the ground.

  He rolled up his sleeves, revealing the wiry arms of a farmer, though tinged grey from magic. The shape of his face was soft and undefined, his physique thin but strong. his voice was flat and direct as he approached. “Felix says you’re injured. What happened?”

  "My father’s parting gift, from his Dragon’s Claw cane.”

  “Is the, uh... baby okay?” His eyes dropped to her stomach, assessing with cold scepticism.

  “As far as I can tell." She grit her teeth. “Let me guess—you don’t think it’s really Lord Nocturne’s?”

  “The thought did cross my mind,” August admitted quietly. “Circumstances make your pregnancy—” he hesitated, his expression revealing he knew more than what he was willing to say, “—unlikely.”

  “Believe me, I didn’t think all this could happen from just…one night.”

  He did not reply, but the tightening of his full lips betrayed his response.

  "Let me look at this wound." The flickering torchlight painted him in a spectral glow, accentuating the soft planes of his face. August knelt before her, his movements precise and deliberate.

  “I’ve taken care of wounds before,” Saphira insisted, hiding her shoulder, her voice faltering. “I just need Rinnel Weed.”

  “Rinnel’s no good for magical wounds,” August said curtly, pulling a small pouch from his belt. He revealed a cluster of delicate white flowers with silky petals. “Quiya Blossom.”

  “I’ve never heard of it.”

  “It grows in Hyland,” he said absently, fishing around in his pouch. “It absorbs magic. It should work well on a wound from the dragon’s claw.” His voice quickened, coloured with a flicker of excitement. “Even though the dragons are long dead—when you’re dealing with a beast that powerful—its power will still linger, even in just a claw.”

  Above: August inspects the wound, revealing his blackened flesh.

  Up close, Saphira counted his ear piercings. He had three on his left ear—with the largest in his earlobe, and two on his right—one on his inner lobe and another in his helix.

  As he extended the flower toward her, his cold, blackened hand brushed against hers. Saphira flinched, her eyes widening. For a fleeting moment, his pupils darkened, his eyes entirely black as his voice dropped into a guttural rasp. “My eye is on you, Renatii. Follow our path.”

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  Saphira recoiled, her breath catching in her throat. When she blinked, August was standing again, his back turned as he rummaged through his saddlebag. She stared at him, her heart pounding as she tried to reconcile what she had seen.

  His voice broke through her thoughts, sharp but casual, his eyes returning to their normal grey. “If you bruise the petals too much, they’ll drain your life force. Be careful.”

  “I…I can handle it.”

  “Here, let me—”

  “Don’t touch me!” Saphira recoiled from him, her voice coming out more forceful than she hoped. She trembled with fear. “Please…”

  Without another word, August gave her the flowers, rose and disappeared into the cave. She exhaled shakily, pressing her fingers against the wound to stanch the bleeding. The chilled air seemed to bite deeper now, and her unease only grew as Felix returned, bringing with him the warmth of his ever-present smile.

  “Come on,” Felix said gently, crouching beside her. “Let’s get you patched up properly.”

  “I can—”

  “You’re not doing this alone,” Felix interrupted, his tone firm but kind. He offered her his hand, and after a moment’s hesitation, she accepted, allowing him to help her to her feet. The weight of his arm around her waist steadied her as he guided her into the cave.

  Saphira dragged her feet, feeling every part of her body ache with discomfort and weariness. Felix—despite his obvious fatigue—walked with his shoulders straight and chin up, giving a friendly nod to everyone that he passed.

  Inside, the air was heavy and damp. The cavern walls, carved unevenly by both man and nature, were streaked with dark stains that looked suspiciously like dried blood. Rusted iron cages lined the walls, their bars twisted and corroded. The dim light of scattered fires barely illuminated the space, casting long, flickering shadows that seemed to shift and move on their own. The soldiers had lit many smaller fires with one central fire in the middle where the boar was roasted over a spit. The heady scent filled the cavern, making Saphira’s mouth water.

  Felix led her to a quieter corner where a small fire flickered away. “Sit,” he instructed, his voice softer now. “I’ll wrap it for you.”

  “I can manage…” Saphira let out a small whimper as the wound throbbed with sharp pain. She glanced behind her, searching for her husband. I hope Nocturne won’t punish me for letting another man touch me.

  “You and Nocturne are just as stubborn as each other,” Felix laughed. He kneeled behind her with the bandage. His hands brushed over Saphira’s shoulder. “You really need help—let me.”

  Saphira relented, wincing as she shrugged off her cloak and pulled down the sleeve of her dress. The marks, pink and swollen, were angrily embedded into her shoulder. She kept her eyes fixed on the rocky ground as Felix knelt behind her, his touch gentle but assured as he worked the bandage around her shoulder.

  “You’re doing well,” he soothed. “Just hold still.”

  Saphira glanced toward the far end of the cave. There, in the darkest corner, stood Nocturne, his umber eyes gleaming in the firelight as he spoke in hushed tones with August. The weight of his gaze fell on her, sharp and assessing. She swallowed hard, her stomach twisting with unease.

  “Saphira?” Felix’s hand paused briefly.

  “I’m fine,” she lied, pulling her sleeve back into place.

  She felt the cool relief of the Quiya petals calm the fiery ache of her wound. Even as the pain in her shoulder eased, the chill from August’s touch lingered, leaving her unsettled in the eerie, suffocating gloom of the cave.

  “It’s okay if you’re not,” Felix murmured. “What you’re going through—what you’ve already endured—it’s more than anyone your age should.”

  Someone my age. Saphira clasped her hands in her lap. They think I’m too young. Immature. Naive. She looked down. Maybe they’re right. I’m drowning; I don’t know what’s going to happen to me.

  "I'll get better with rest," she breathed, touching her shoulder.

  "We don't have time to rest the way you need." Glancing over his shoulder at Nocturne, Felix whispered, “Can I try something?”

  He drew one of his hooked blades, its edge gleaming faintly. Kneeling beside her, he pressed the flat of the curve gently to her shoulder. A pale green light flickered from the metal, and a soothing warmth bloomed under her skin as the sting began to fade.

  “There,” he said with a bright smile. “That should be enough to get you to Firestone.”

  But as he turned away, his expression faltered. His hand clenched reflexively, and a tremor ran through his arm. The exposed strip of skin between glove and gauntlet had blackened, veins dark and crawling like ichor beneath snow.

  “Felix…”

  He quickly tugged his sleeve down. “It’s nothing,” he said, the exhaustion cracking through the prominent smile lines around his eyes. “You needed it more than I do.”

  “I’m sorry for the horrid accommodations,” Felix apologised with a smile. “It’s an old smuggler cave. They abandoned it because of the ‘spawn.”

  Bolted against the dark stone walls, Saphira spotted large, rusted cages. “Did they use these caves to smuggle nightspawn in and out of Renatus?”

  “Who would pay for a nightspawn pet? Horrible." Felix let out a snort. "These were for exotic animals, hell-leopards, basilisks, wyverns…” he shrugged, “But most of their trade was in crystalith, smuggled from Renatii mines.” He looked at the studs in Saphira’s ears, saying, “One of those alone would be worth a year’s wages.” He looked at the rock at her neck and said, “And that’s worth half a kingdom.”

  She touched her earlobes, feeling the reassuring warmth of the stone. Perhaps they would make me a target of thieves—or even the Smuggler King Zephyr, Saphira thought, but I would sooner die than part with all I have left of my mother—and of my home. The word created a tidal wave of longing within Saphira—home. She looked to the strange, haggard group of men dressed in grey—for she could not see her husband amongst them—and her hands touched her belly, protecting the only connection she had to him.

  She spotted her husband in the farthest corner of the cave. He stood with August, muttering intensely. She caught eyes with him from across the cave, and he scowled, moving August to continue their discussion unobserved. All I want is a reassuring word, she thought, a touch of his hand to know it will be okay.

  “Felix, can I ask you something?” She held her bare fingers out to the fledgling fire, trying to banish the chill.

  “Is he…mad with me?”

  He made a rude sound with his lips, saying, “I don’t understand you women. Why do you always assume we’re mad at you?”

  “I fell pregnant.”

  “Isn’t having children the point of being married?” He laughed.

  “But he didn’t really want to marry me.”

  “Lady…” Felix said, exhaling with patience, “Nocturne risked his life to get you here. Besides…If he didn’t want a child, he would have taken precautions; a man knows what happens when he sticks it into a woman.”

  Saphira felt her cheeks warm.

  With the heel of his leather boot, he poked a log back into the fire, his expression neutral. He laughed, saying, “What? Didn’t that answer your question?”

  “It’s just that…the men at home never spoke like that.” Her hand touched her bare cheeks, feeling the unveiled skin. Her hand snaked upwards and her fingers wrapped the end of her violet braid around her finger. She thought, enough change for one day…when we are at his castle, I’ll wear my hair down.

  She concluded, “It takes some getting used to…such openness.”

  “If you’re hoping for a formal court at Firestone, you’re going to be disappointed.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that…" Saphira grimaced. "All I want is a safe place to raise my child.”

  “Then you’ll find it in Firestone,” Felix assured. “You’ll do just fine, Saphira. Trust me, we’ll all look after you.”

  “You make me think it’s going to be okay," she said gently.

  “It will be.” His cheeks turned red, and he sniffed the air. “Smells like the boar is almost ready. I’ll get you some. Try to sleep, okay?"

  Saphira drew her knees up to her chest and tightened the fur cloak around her shoulders. She shivered, closed her eyes—but only silent tears came.