Song vibe: AMYGDALA - Agust D

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  NOCTURNE

  Master’s Wing, Firestone Castle

  In the dark, the door to Nocturne’s bedroom thudded urgently. His eyes snapped open, Shadowrend already in his hands. He crossed the room in three long strides, barefoot on cold stone.

  A single thought looped fast: Please, Almighty... let nothing have happened to Saphira. His throat constricted. The sting of dried tears clung to his cheeks. I couldn’t let her—let anyone—see me like this. Weak.

  He flung the door open. Quintus stood panting in his nightgown, fur coat half-thrown on, keys still in hand.

  “Lady Saphira—” Nocturne growled. “Is she alright?”

  “She’s safe—for now,” Quintus said quickly. “News spreads fast. My condolences, my Lord.” He cleared his throat. “But there’s more.”

  His voice dropped. “A report just came in—armed men were seen at Hawthorne’s Rest, up on the overlook above Haven. A merchant says they stopped him on the road. Foreign accents. Said they were looking closely at the hair of every woman passing by.”

  Crassus. The rage surged. He turned, retreating into his room to grab what he needed. That little spawnrot. Did he think I’d let her slip away, after everything?

  “Your orders, my Lord?”

  “Send a silvark to the Horrocks garrison,” Nocturne growled, pulling a padded gambeson over his linen shirt. “Another to Dacian Sevensons. Be on the lookout for all foreigners.” He met Quintus’s eyes—hard and unblinking—as he buckled the last strap. “Hawthorne’s Rest is close. I’ll be back by daybreak. Tell Rell to watch Saphira. Understand?”

  “As my Lord commands.” Quintus bowed stiffly and closed the door.

  In the silence, Nocturne shrugged into his leather brigandine and laced up his boots.

  She lost our son. Because of him. Because of me. He tightened the last strap and forced the damning thoughts away.

  Before he shut the door to the master bedroom, he saw the glimmer of light, the crystalith left on his pillow. His son, suspended in glasslike stillness, cradled by magic and time. Nocturne stepped closer, his hand reaching out before he even meant to.

  It’s supposed to hurt. You’re supposed to slow down. The lump in his throat rose, but he fought it, with the discipline of a soldier, forcing it deep down into his sternum.

  He turned away sharply, buckled the last strap, and did not look back. The ache had nowhere to go, so he gave it motion. He strode from the keep, jaw clenched, cloak snapping behind him in the midnight wind.

  In the stables, he found Gin eating from a bag of hay, freshly groomed and saddled. Lucian lay asleep beside the stall, comfortable in a pile of hay.

  As Nocturne approached, Lucian stood without a word, brushing straw from his coat. In the next stall, his silver-grey gelding waited patiently, ready to ride.

  “Don’t try to stop me,” Nocturne said flatly, checking the buckles on Gin’s saddle.

  Lucian raised an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” His teal eyes remained sharp and clear in the half-light. “Speaking of dreams—” he gestured toward the saddled horse. “Call it a premonition. Everything’s packed. Lye’s coming too, wherever you’re headed.”

  “Hawthorne’s Rest.” Nocturne nodded once, bending to check the fit of Gin’s bridle. “It’ll be a fast ride.”

  "The best kind." Lucian pulled off his green scarf and twisted it into a bandanna, pushing his fringe back. “I thought you'd come here. I saw it in the mask—evil dreamers, slithering through our lands. Not the usual vermin,” he muttered, voice dry. “Woke Lye for the fun of it.”

  Lysander strode into the stable, leading his chestnut gelding. His blonde hair was tied in a rough knot, his eyes shadowed with exhaustion. He took one look at Nocturne and murmured, “I... I saw her come in. We all did. I’m sorry, Nox.” He hesitated. “Are you sure you should be—”

  “Don't.” Nocturne ran the tip of his tongue along the inside of his cheek, biting back his words.

  He mounted in silence, ignoring Lysander as he whispered to a stablehand, "Ride to Brightwood. Fetch Felix."

  Felix can't fix this. Nothing can change the past. But now, the future is in danger...

  Moments later, the three of them passed beneath the gatehouse and into the dark.

  For a heartbeat, Nocturne looked back. The lights of Firestone grew smaller behind them, golden against the dark hills.

  I’m riding away from what matters, he thought. We haven’t even buried him. He leaned low over Gin’s neck, loosening the reins with one hand and tapping his heel twice behind the girth. The stallion surged ahead, ears pinned, hooves striking hard into the dirt. This is to protect her. Nocturne adjusted his weight for balance, guiding with his knees, eyes fixed on the dark road ahead. That has to be enough—it’s all I have left to give.

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  Above: Nocturne, Lucian, and Lysander ride out.

  Soon, they saw the familiar rise of Hawthorne’s Rest, overlooking Haven Highway and the lands beyond. The hill cut sharply against the dark horizon, the outcrop dusted in low fog.

  Saphira and I passed by here just hours ago. Nocturne shivered, pulling gently on Gin’s reins. If someone was watching... they saw everything. How was I so blind?

  He exchanged silent glances with Lucian and Lysander, then veered off the road. The horses climbed the rocky slope, hooves slipping occasionally on loose stone.

  At the peak, Nocturne dismounted without a word. His boots crunched through frosted grass. The air was colder, thick with still fog. His breath steamed; the air reeked of rot.

  He took the scene in with a single, sweeping glance—the boot prints in the dirt, horse droppings, a half-eaten apple core left atop a stone. It’s as if it’s all waiting to be found, Nocturne thought, his hand standing close to the hilt of his sword.

  “Less than an hour old,” Lysander murmured, crouching beside the droppings. He brushed gloved fingers over the frosted grass. “Four riders. No firewood, no piss. No camp. They didn’t linger.”

  Nocturne turned his face to the wind. He closed his eyes briefly, filtering the air again. Chewing tobacco. Oiled leather. Bird—a silvark or crow. Then, the stench hit his nose, halfway between corpse rot and rusted iron.

  “Magic corruption,” he growled. “It reeks of it.”

  “This is too easy,” Lucian muttered, not straying far from the horses. “Professionals aren’t this sloppy.”

  “Then what’s the play?” Lysander scanned the tree line, nostrils flaring. “Drag us out here to bury us?”

  The wind shifted again. A foul, familiar reek in the air. Then, the brush behind them rustled.

  Lysander spun, arrow notched. Lucian drew his twin blades, his face losing its usual smirk.

  The first nightspawn slid from the shadows like oil—then another, then more. Dozens followed, snarling, their claws ready to strike.

  Nocturne glanced behind them, seeing only their horses and the sheer drop of the cliff.

  I’ll kill every last spawnrotting one.

  A guttural roar ripped from his chest as he threw himself into the centre of the pack, Shadowrend gleaming under moonlight. He carved through the pack, each blow dulling the ache behind his ribs. And as he swung, all he could see was that cart again. Her blood. Her eyes.

  The claw swung at him, almost in slow motion.

  Dodge, he commanded himself, then counter.

  But his body did not want to move.

  The claw caught his side. Sharp pain shot up. Warm blood spilled from his side, soaking his clothes.

  The pain flared through his ribs, snapping his mind into the present. Nocturne staggered, barely managing to swing his sword to keep the creature at bay.

  He heard Lysander’s arrow cut the air. The nightspawn stumbled, a steel-tipped shaft protruding from its throat. It gurgled, then collapsed at Nocturne’s feet with a wet thud.

  “Fye, Nox!” Lucian shouted over the nightspawn shrieks, halfway through carving a pathway to him. “You trying to get yourself killed?”

  The creatures surged forward, snarling—drunk on the scent of his blood, teeth snapping inches from his flesh.

  Another arrow hit, clearing the way for Lucian. He sliced a nightspawn’s throat and stood back-to-back with Nocturne.

  Nocturne flinched. He shifted his stance, almost out of habit, protecting Lucian’s blind spot. He lunged forward, blade thrusting.

  Above: The fight is over.

  When it was done, they stood boot-deep in corpses, black ichor spattered on their clothes, catching their breaths and wiping the ichor from their weapons.

  In the silence, Nocturne sheathed Shadowrend. He ripped off his glove and pressed his hand to his side. He grimaced, feeling the wet material, and under it, the sharp sting of the wound.

  “You’re bleeding,” Lysander commented, pulling an arrow from a dead nightspawn.

  “Good.” Nocturne refitted his glove, his gaze lingering on the treeline. “Someone used corrupted magic on purpose. Drew them to this place. Knew we’d come sniffing.”

  “Whoever they are, they’re long gone.” Lysander approached cautiously, his hazel eyes flicking between the corpses and the wound at Nocturne’s side. “Let’s head back. August will be able to trace the magic. Tell us who did it.”

  “No. We finish this,” Nocturne decided.

  “Nox,” Lysander breathed. “You’re in no state to fight.”

  Nocturne sneered and turned to stride deeper into the woods.

  “What’re you doing?” Lucian called out, his voice cutting. “Kill them all, and that somehow brings him back?”

  Nocturne flinched.

  “You lost your son.” Lucian’s gaze bore into him. “And you’ll lose your wife, too.”

  “She doesn’t need me,” Nocturne muttered, unable to look his friends in the eye. “Not like this.”

  “Right now, Nox—she’s got no one but you,” Lysander replied.

  “I shouldn’t have gone to Horrocks,” Nocturne muttered. “Should’ve faced Hyland—”

  “If we’d fought Hyland in that state,” Lucian cut in, calm and steady, “we’d all be dead. And Vald would’ve taken her anyway. Stop blaming yourself.”

  Lysander gripped Nocturne’s forearm, and then his shoulder. He pulled him into a rough embrace.

  Nocturne’s body froze, caught somewhere between fury and collapse.

  “If you don’t stop, you’ll burn yourself to nothing.” Lysander pulled back just enough to meet Nocturne’s eyes. “I’d follow you anywhere, Nox. You know that. But you’re done here.”

  The stench of nightspawn lingered. The growls rose again, deeper in the woods.

  “We’ll secure the area,” Nocturne muttered. “No more blood on my name. I’ll send another unit through tomorrow morning.”

  “Hate to break it to you, but it’s already tomorrow,” Lysander pointed out.

  Nocturne paused and looked up. The sky shifted quickly, the deep black of night fading to steel blue of pre-dawn.

  Tsek. His hand slipped from the hilt. I promised I’d be there.

  “She’ll be awake soon.” Lucian gave him a long look and raised an eyebrow. “Don’t make her look for you.” Lucian's lips curved faintly as he touched the twin hilts. “Now, let's see if there's any left for us, eh?"

  Lysander grinned, his spark returning. “Now you’re talking. First to ten?”

  “Make it twenty,” Lucian decided, stepping forward. “And let’s play for Djinn.”

  “Djinn?” Lysander held out his hand. “I want a free wish. Shake on it.”

  The two of them moved together, blades drawn, slipping deeper into the trees with perfect synchronicity.

  Alone, Nocturne wiped down his blade and sheathed it with a definitive click. He looked out over the forest—spawn corpses strewn across the hill, black ichor soaking the earth, grass curling where the magic still lingered.

  The wound ached; another scar, another lesson carved in his flesh. Focus on what matters—or fall.

  He exhaled—a long, deep release—and turned, leaving the dead where they lay.

  It wasn’t a trap. He mounted Gin. Too easy for men like us. He kicked the stallion forward, riding into the early light, toward Firestone. Then what was it? A distraction? A warning? A nudge off sanity’s edge?

  As he rode home, his eyes stung, but no tears came; only the ache remained—quiet, and unkillable.

  I’d love to hear your theories, suspicions, and wild guesses. Let’s see who gets close ??

  I don't ever want to write predictable stories, but I never want to write things just for the shock value. So thank you for trusting me, and for staying with the characters! They have an epic journey far ahead!