Kalian sat on a fallen tree, a short distance beyond the camp. A cool spring breeze ruffled his hair, and he leaned his head back, breathing deeply. The musty scent of the Vetiti wafted towards him, but he caught a hint of freshly fallen dew besides. A wave of homesickness washed over him and Kalian's wings slumped to the ground as his shoulders sagged.

Nights like these had once been cherished. Yara was always eager to fly. She had often begged him and Calandra to carry her through the sky so that she could pretend she was flying. Kalian's heart twisted, recalling how Yara would grip his arms and urge him to fly higher. Faster. Farther. She would've been a powerful flyer when she was older. How he had longed for the day when he could see her spread her wings and soar alone.

Kalian unsheathed his dagger and rubbed his thumb over the polished stone. This night marked the fourth night he'd been with the Ironblades. He hadn't gone out for a flight since he arrived. It was too risky. A scout could see him. But...he needed to clear his head. He couldn't be distracted when he tried to implement his plan in the morning.

Kalian slipped the dagger back into its sheath and stood. He stretched his wings as he walked farther away from the camp. He would take off close to the Vetiti. If a scout saw him, hopefully he'd be mistaken for one of the creatures that lurked within the forest. Kalian spread his wings and leaped into the air.

Instantly, the wind snatched him up, carrying him above the treetops. Kalian leveled out, closing his eyes briefly to relish the cool wind on his face. He allowed his glamour to fade and the ice blue swirls in his wings flashed as his magic settled. Kalian looped above the Vetiti, listening for any unusual sounds. He heard nothing and continued to lose himself in the music of wingbeats and a rustling breeze.

Kalian let his eyes close again. He dredged up memories of Calandra and Yara, and the nights they'd spent flying together. A smile ghosted across his lips as he recalled the way moonlight had shone on Calandra's chestnut tresses, which she always wore in a braid. Her blue eyes, far brighter than his own, had always sparkled with glee, and Yara's were a mirror image.

"Let's race," Calandra would say. "The breeze is light enough that it won't interfere."

And Yara would laugh, gripping Kalian's forearms tightly as she bobbed her dark head in agreement. Her little wings were always folded close to her back and pressed up against his chest, while his arms were wrapped securely around her.

"We'll beat you!" Yara always teased. The race would begin and Yara would take up her incessant chanting of, "Faster, Daddy! Faster!"

To which he replied, "Any faster, Butterfly, and my wings will fall off."

They won every time. Calandra let them win. She was the fastest flyer Kalian had ever known, but she always slowed down for them. She had always done whatever it took to see Yara happy, just as he had.

Kalian swallowed hard and blinked back the stinging in his eyes. He circled back towards the edge of the Vetiti and drew his wings up to land. Kalian cast a shield over himself and dropped beside his fallen tree. He pulled his knees up to his chest, tucking his wings tight around his shoulders. Kalian ran his fingers through his hair while drawing deep steadying breaths.

"I'll find him soon, and they will be avenged," he whispered. "But our people have to come first right now. They're..." Kalian gave a heavy sigh. "They're still alive. I can help save them. I will help save them."

He cast a glamour over himself and allowed his shield to vanish. Kalian pushed himself onto his feet, ready to return to camp. He was almost to the perimeter when footsteps crunched behind him. Kalian paused, his hand moving behind his head to grasp the hilt of his sword.

"What are you doing out here?" Malachi demanded.

Kalian let his arm fall. "I was taking a walk. It's a beautiful night."

"Only a fool walks alone this close to the Vetiti."

"A fool who knows how to take care of himself."

Malachi drifted in front of him, his gaze dark with suspicion. "Even the most battle hardened warriors in this camp refuse to walk alone at night. What makes you different from them?"

"I'll survive any creature that chooses to attack me." Kalian brushed past Malachi. The male grabbed his shoulder and Kalian whirled, his dagger already in his grasp. He angled the blade at Malachi's throat. Malachi raised his hands, backing up a few paces. "Do not touch me," Kalian hissed. Magic hummed through his limbs, though he kept it locked away.

Kalian sheathed his blade and Malachi lowered his hands. "Commander Lev will hear about this. We don't threaten our own."

"Then what are you doing out here, if you did not come to threaten me?" Kalian asked coldly.

Malachi stared at him, briefly surprised. He soon schooled his features and shoved past Kalian. "You are a stranger who does not fear the forest. That makes you worthy of suspicion."

"You're mistaken," Kalian growled. "I do fear the forest. I just don't fear death." He overtook Malachi and stormed on ahead, reaching the camp shortly before he did.

☽◦༻◦☽◦༺◦☽

Moira stifled a groan, hearing yet another set of approaching footsteps outside her tent. The flaps parted, revealing Malachi. Brilliant sunlight streamed in behind him. Moira averted her eyes, letting dark curls tumble over her brow to shield her face.

"Did I say you could enter, Malachi?" She asked.

"I need to speak to you about something important."

"Oh really? More important than the guards you're supposed to be rotating right now?"

Malachi's lips pressed into a thin line. "I found the new guy outside of camp last night. He was unusually close to the Vetiti."

"And?" Moira scribbled a few notes into the margin of a letter from her superior.

"And don't you find that strange? No one goes near the forest alone, especially after dark."

"If he wants to get himself killed, let him. It'll spare us a load of trouble."

"Have you seen the weapons he carries? I've never seen a sword like his, and he has an obsidian dagger. Those can only be crafted by Night Faeries."

Moira slowly lifted her gaze from her papers. She set her pencil down and drew both daggers from their sheaths on her thighs. Moira set the blades on her desk and faced Malachi. "There are others who trade with Faeries, and we buy from them."

Malachi's throat bobbed as he stared at her crystal and obsidian daggers. He knew those blades well. Everyone did. She wielded them against Faeries instead of her iron sword. The crystal dagger was for Day Faeries. The obsidian for Night. Her sword was reserved for Scindoes, Witches, and others of muddied Faerie bloodlines.

"There's something off about Deirdre," Malachi said. She could practically hear his mouth running dry. "I don't like him."

Moira gave a wry laugh. "You don't like anyone, Malachi. If you're suspicious of him, watch him. I'll listen to your complaints when I know they won't be a waste of time."

"But..."

"Go. I have work to do, and so do you."

Malachi huffed in annoyance, but obeyed. Moira scrubbed at her face with an exasperated groan. At last, her hands fell to her desk. She studied her blades and pulled the crystal one free. That blade had spilled more blood than any of her other weapons combined. Day Faeries were always her first priority. They were directly responsible for what had happened to her family. All Faeries deserved to die, but the Day Faeries most of all.

"Commander, everyone is gathered for the briefing," Lir called, sticking his head in the tent.

"Can't anyone ask for permission before bothering me?" Moira spat. "I'm going to put a fucking piece of wood outside of my tent that you'll be required to knock on before you speak!"

"Good idea." Lir backed out of the tent.

Moira grabbed her obsidian blade as well and sheathed them both before stepping out into the camp. She made her way to a wide area where the cooking fires were set up. The fires were nothing more than glowing coals right now, but they'd be roaring flames by nightfall. Most of her unit was gathered there, with the exception of the guards being positioned along the camp's perimeter.

"New orders have come in," Moira announced. "We are going to attack and exterminate a coven of Witches hiding out in the Vetiti. There will be twenty Witches in total. Five of them know defense spells, but the rest are healers. We will attack tomorrow night. Prepare yourselves accordingly."

    She turned to go, but someone cleared their throat. Moira glanced over her shoulder with a frown. Kalian Deirdre stood towards the front of the group, a fist hovering just below his mouth. He lowered his arm when he noticed that he'd caught her attention.

"What?" Moira asked.

"You want to lead a group of hostile forces into the Vetiti after dark?" Kalian raised an eyebrow. There was a disbelieving look in his denim eyes. "Do you know what types of creatures live there besides Witches? Creatures that will not hesitate to attack anything they perceive as a threat?"

"I am well aware of the threats the Vetiti holds. We will attack after dark regardless. The Witches will be more vulnerable then. Even healers can be dangerous in daylight."

"The Vetiti's demons are more dangerous at night. And, I think you're forgetting that Witches are descended from Faeries. If forced to choose, the creatures will side with them and we won't stand a chance. Like calls to like."

"I have given my orders," Moira snapped. Who did this young man think he was, questioning her commands on his fifth day in the camp?

"Orders that will get us killed," Kalian shot back.

"You speak like a coward."

"I speak like a man who doesn't wish to die in an unfair battle." His icy gaze was a sharp contrast to her burning one.

"He has a point," Bellamy Rame remarked. "We won't survive an attack from Witches and the Vetiti's creatures."

"Not if the only things arming us are our sharp words," Moira seethed. "Get to work. Now!" Her soldiers scurried away instantly. All but one. Kalian Deirdre lifted his chin, watching her defiantly.

"Want me to keep an eye on that one, Commander?" Lir asked, appearing beside her.

"I'm capable of doing that myself." Moira stormed back to her tent, trying to ignore how Kalian's words had dredged up concerns of her own.