Princess Elodi's Arc

Chapter 12 of 55

The moon climbed higher. Damon gathered fallen branches from the tree line and stacked them in a ring of stones. He struck a match against a rock. The flame caught the dry wood and grew. Warmth pushed back the cold night air. Elodi watched the fire steady itself. For the first time in hours, she felt no fear. "Rest," Damon said. "I'll keep the fire going." He sat across from her, his blue tunic streaked with dirt from the flight. He looked tired too, but he did not complain. Elodi spread her cloak on the ground and lay back. The dirt was hard against her shoulders. She did not care. Above her, the sky opened wide and full of stars. No ceiling. No window bars. Just endless dark and bright points of light. Her otter climbed onto her stomach and curled into a warm ball. Its jeweled collar caught the firelight. Elodi rested one hand on its fur and stared upward. She had seen a sky like this once before. She was seven. Her father had lifted her onto his shoulders in the courtyard. He named the stars for her, one by one, his voice low and sure. King Erik. He sailed away that same year and never came home. After the guards brought the news, her mother changed. The doors locked. The grounds closed. Elodi had not lain under open stars since. Her throat tightened. She pressed her lips together, but the tears came anyway. They slid down into her hair. She had won her freedom. She had reached the open world. Yet the one person who first showed it to her was gone. Damon looked over. He saw her wet face in the firelight. He did not look away, and he did not rush to fix it. "Someone you left behind?" he asked quietly. "My father," Elodi said. "He showed me the stars when I was small. Then he sailed off and never returned." Her voice shook. "My mother locked the whole world away after that. She was afraid to lose me too." Damon fed another branch to the fire. "So you had to steal the sky back," he said. He said it plainly. No pity. Just truth. Elodi wiped her cheeks and gave a small, broken laugh. "Yes. I suppose I did." She looked up again. The grief did not vanish. But something loosened in her chest. Her father was gone, and no flight could bring him back. Still, she was here, under his stars, breathing free air. She had done what her mother swore she never could. "I want to see where the stream leads," Elodi said. "At first light. I want to find out what's out there." Damon nodded. "Then we go at first light." Elodi closed her eyes. The fire crackled. Her otter breathed against her ribs. For the first time since childhood, she slept beneath the open sky, and she was not afraid.