He smirks in response, clearly enjoying my discomfort.
Varek doesn’t linger on my embarrassment, turning instead to issue orders to his people. As the group begins to move, I take a steadying breath and fall into step beside Solan.
We walk in silence for a while before Solan’s voice threads into my mind, softer now.“Varek’s not entirely wrong about bonds. They’re… obvious, in a way. To those who know what to look for.”
I glance at him, my curiosity momentarily overriding my irritation.“And what exactly should I know about what’s obvious?”
Solan’s lips twitch into a faint smile, though there’s something guarded in his gaze.“Your scent has changed. Stronger, more entwined with mine. Your energy too. To someone like Varek, who’s lived long and seen much, it’s unmistakable.”
That doesn’t make me feel any better.“Great. So now everyone knows we’re bonded because I smell different?”
“Not everyone,”he assures me, though the teasing glint in his eyes suggests he finds my indignation amusing.“Only those who are perceptive.”
I narrow my eyes at him.“You’re enjoying this far too much.”
“Perhaps,”he admits, his voice rich with amusement.
Solan’s amusement still caresses my mind by the time Varek has finished talking with his crew and gets us to leave. The first thing we do is collect Geralt and Ridge. They’ve been fed and watered, and I thank Shanae profusely when I realise she’s also organised for them to be brushed down. I’ve been a pretty shitty horse owner since being here.
The journey to the rebel town—Dathanor—stretches out in quiet tension as we make our way. The group moves at a steady pace, Solan and I sticking close together while Jamie shares his horse with Calythra. My stockhorse, Geralt, surprises me with his composure. Even in this strange terrain, with different species and odd contraptions surrounding us, he handles it with the same steady gait I’ve trusted for years.
Most of the rebels travel on foot, their movements ranging from fluid and swift, while some are heavy and lumbering over the uneven, rocky ground. It’s like they’ve been shaped by this terrain, their strides effortless where mine feel precarious. Thank fuck I’m on Geralt’s back. Solan walks beside me, his steps powerful and deliberate, his eyes ever watchful. He doesn’t stray from my side, his hand occasionally brushing Geralt’s flank as though anchoring us both.
A few among the group ride peculiar vehicles—contraptions that remind me vaguely of scooters, though sleeker and more “other” in design. Their purr is subtle, almost like the whisper of wind through tall grass. How silent they are is impressive. It’s clear they’re not powered by anything familiar. No electricity hums in the air, no engines roar. The energy feels… alive. I think of the elemental trick Solan showed me before—the way, with a flick of his hand, he powered the light in his home. Is that what drives these machines?
Jamie’s voice drifts to me as he chats with Calythra, his awe at the strange landscape and the company of monsters bubbling over into endless questions. Calythra answers him with surprising patience, his voice a gentle rumble punctuated by Jamie’s sharper, more eager tones. For a moment, I’m grateful for the distraction it gives my nephew.
The terrain grows rougher as we progress, jagged rocks jutting up like the bones of the earth. The air takes on a different quality, heavier and tinged with a faint metallic taste that sits on my tongue. I feel it the moment we cross through the wards, an almost-imperceptible ripple that tingles across my skin.
Then, as though the world shifts around us, the rebel town comes into view.
Nestled against a ridge of rocky hills, Dathanor is unlike any place I’ve ever seen. The settlement seems to rise organically from the landscape, its structures carved directly into the rockface. Glowing veins of bioluminescent green and blue trace patterns along the cavernous walls, casting an otherworldly light over the area. The effect is eerie but mesmerising, like standing inside a living, breathing organism.
The town is layered, with pathways spiralling upwards and downwards, connecting a network of caves and platforms that cling to the cliffs. Wooden bridges, ropes, and ladders stretch precariously between levels, swaying slightly with each breeze.At ground level, makeshift tents and lean-tos are scattered in clusters, their inhabitants bustling with purpose.
“This used to be underground,” Shanae says to us as we dismount. “The rift brought it to the surface. The floating rivers obviously didn’t stick. The gravity of Terrafeara makes it impossible.”
Varek gestures for us to follow, his silver eyes glinting in the bioluminescent glow. “The wards don’t keep anyone out,” he explains as we walk. “That’s not their purpose. They work as a cloak, concealing the town from view unless you pass through them.”
The ingenuity of it impresses me, though it doesn’t loosen the knot of unease in my stomach. This place isn’t just a refuge. Apparently, it’s a war camp, and the purpose behind its creation is evident in every detail.
Armed rebels move with precision, their steps purposeful as they go about their tasks. A group practices with weapons on a platform above, their strikes sharp and deliberate. The clanging of blades echoes faintly through the cavernous space.
“This isn’t just a place for people like us to live safely,”I mutter to Solan through our bond.
“No,”he agrees, his golden eyes scanning the surroundings.“It’s not. There’s a lot of activity and weapons.”
I catch sight of Jamie as Calythra helps him dismount. My nephew’s wide eyes are glued to the glowing patterns on the walls, his curiosity unbridled. Despite everything, a small smile tugs at my lips. His awe is a comfort, a reminder that even during chaos, there’s room for wonder.
Solan steps closer to me, his presence steadying as the weight of our situation settles heavily on my shoulders.“Stay sharp.”His voice is low and grounding in my head.“This is no place for carelessness.”
I nod, sweeping my gaze over the town as Varek leads us deeper inside. The activity around us is relentless, the air thick with tension and purpose. This is a community on the brink, not just surviving but preparing for something far greater.
It’s fucking terrifying.
Sure, there’s a small collection of market-type stalls and cave-shaped domes being used as stores. There are smaller species racing around, and I think they’re young… kids rather than small monsters.
“How many live here?” I ask. I can’t see the end of the settlement or how many dwellings are here.
