Of Darkness and Light (The Bound and the Broken, #2)

by Ryan Cahill

This is also when he learns his first words of the Old Tongue and decides on the dragon’s name: Valerys – Ice.

Calen turned to Falmin, whose gaze was lost in the yellow glow of the crystal atop the pedestal. “We need you to solve that, or we’re all dead.” “No fuckin’ pressure!” the navigator shouted, turning back towards the pedestal.

“Being sorry soothes nothing but your own ego, brother. Be better.”

For a moment, a pang of guilt burst into Calen’s mind as the creature wailed, but then Valerys’s rage took over again. This creature had tried to harm his Draleid, had tried to harm those he travelled with, his family, and

for that, it would die; it would burn in his fire.

Alleron thought to speak, to tell her how much he loved her. But instead, he strode from the room at the sight of the solitary tear rolling down his mother’s cheek. His mother was a proud woman, and he would not do her the disservice of watching her cry. All he could do was make sure he came back to her.

An all-consuming rage rippled through them both. Valerys would rather die than see harm come to his Draleid, and the dragon’s wrath ignited every fibre in Calen’s body.

He reached out to Valerys and felt nothing. He was alone.

🥲🥲

“Calen and Rist are the closest thing I’ve ever had to brothers. I’ve never not had them around me. They have always been the better parts of me, always made the right decisions when I made the wrong ones. Without them… I’m not sure who I am. I didn’t mean to lose my temper in the tunnels. I’m just scared.”

Aeson lifted his gaze to meet Therin’s, doing nothing to stay the tears that rolled down his cheeks. “I can’t feel her, Therin. Sometimes I dream, and her heart beats with mine, her mind calls to me, her scales feel warm beneath my hands… Then I wake… and I’m alone.”

“I will stand by your side until my lungs take their last breath and my heart ceases to beat. In darkness, and in light, by blade and by blood, I am yours. Let me be your sword.”

We are born, we live, and we die. Those three things cannot be changed. The only thing within our control is what we choose to do with the short time we have – the things we fight for, the people we love, the things we hold dear. Good men stand even when it is against all odds. They were, each of them, good men.”

“In my father’s words, ’You’re a strange boy, Dann. You’re my boy, but you’re still strange.’”

“When we meet Arem, don’t say a word. Let me do the talking.” “You know me,” Dann said with an all too serious look on his face. “Quiet as a mouse at a parade.” Aeson tilted his head, staring at Dann in disbelief. “Dann, what does that even mean?” “If you don’t know, then I can’t explain it,” Dann said with a shrug. In truth, Dann had no idea what it meant.

Dann had to stop his natural reflex to reach for his bow. If speaking irritated Aeson, shooting his informant would likely not go down well.

The captain looked over at Vaeril, his eyebrow raised in confusion. “Well, ignoring that strange denial of his elven heritage,

“All I’m saying,” Lyrin said, leaning back in his chair, holding his arms out wide, “is if you hadn’t tricked me, I would’ve won.” “And all I’m saying,” Arden replied, “is if you hadn’t lost, you would’ve won.”

“We would follow you to the void and back, Kallinvar. We would die for you a thousand times over. We would stand before Efilatír himself. We are with you, always.”

I do not mean you cannot hold fear in your hearts, for courage is not the absence of fear. It is the will to act in spite of fear.”

Charging towards the Shaman and the Fades, Kallinvar saw a young man, no more than twenty summers, his eyes streaming with a purple light, three companions at his side. They fought like rabid wolves, cornered and desperate. No Draleid Kallinvar had ever known had eyes like that, but he was of no doubt as to who the young man was.

Kallinvar could feel the Fade’s fear. For in their hands, the knights held weapons forged with the sole purpose of shearing the dark creatures’ very existence from the world: Soulblades.

Verathin had been by Kallinvar’s side through everything. He had been the best of them, the light that shone brightest in the darkest of nights. Were it not for Verathin, Kallinvar would have died in Ilnaen. Were it not for Verathin, Kallinvar would probably have died long before that on the fields of Lithwain, where Verathin had first offered him the Sigil. And now the greatest man he had ever known was not even to be granted the respite his soul had so desperately deserved.