So Speaks the Ruinous Light || To Herald a Dawn Book 1

Chapter 9 (bark sandals)

Michael was chosen for this scouting mission to the Obsidian Castle--I never knew they called our castle Obsidian--because of his interest in wilderness survival and camping. His interest, however, borders on excessive.

He can identify nearly every plant and fungus we come across by name; he makes three different remedies for insect repellent on our walk out of the forest--all the same slimy green goop, which he slathers on both our arms and they feel the same, but he says they smell different--and he knows magical ways to filter water (which he neglects to actually show me).

While I was unconscious, he ripped up my slippers, claiming they were useless for protection but turns out they were also useless for bandages, so he stuffed them in the pocket of his backpack to use for something later, hopefully. Then not long after we leave the cave, he makes me sandals out of smooth bark and twined plant stems. They actually fit my feet, and don't fall apart across muddy fields or streams or clearings of fallen trees.

Michael, also, just casually summons a flat bridge of mist above the raging river, dozens of body-lengths long. I just stare at it. Then I glance back at the forest we've crossed this morning, since light began leaking into the cave and I woke Michael. "Why don't you just launch an attack at the back of the castle?" I ask. "They hardly ever watch the back wall, you can just make a bridge of mist over the river and sneak up on them."

"Because most people can't just make a bridge of mist. Especially not one long enough to stretch across this whole river. And no, I can't hold this that long, so hurry up." He squelches off the muddy river bank and steps onto the mist. Like a sponge, the mist sinks under his boot, but supports his weight.

Most people can't make a bridge of mist...like how hardly any of the night warriors can shadowwalk?

Shaking my head, I trot after him, bark sandals sinking slightly into the glowing bridge. The mist curls around my toes, cool. Below us, the river thunders; if I wanted to, I could lie on my stomach and not quite poke the highest rapids with my fingers. Not that I want to. Michael's walking too fast to give me any chance to pause.

"But what about that light vine stuff you did to keep everyone from chasing me?" I ask. "That was huge, why don't you do that instead of mist?"

He stares over his shoulder at me, face all screwed up. "Those only work on Night Warriors, duh?" He turns forward and picks up his pace.

"Why--"

"Because light and dark repel each other. Wow, do you know nothing?"

"I know lots--"

"The light vines and the inherent dark magic in the night warriors clash, so they can't pass through each other. If it were you or me, those beams of light would just go through us. Or even feed us if you can suck them up fast enough." He vaguely waves a hand up at the sun. "It's just concentrated sunlight."

We hop off the mist bridge, a half-step above the rocky bank, and it disperses behind us. I glance over to our left. Behind a curve in the river, the castle sits like an imposing mountain; the bulbous tower tops look like precariously perched boulders. "Can't they see us from here?"

"Can you see anyone on the walls?" Michael marches off down the pebble-strewn riverside, away from the castle.

"No, but--"

"Then nope, they can't see us."

"--what if they blend into the walls? Or have spotting glasses?"

"Then I guess we better keep moving." Michael adjusts his backpack, same color as his beige leather boots, and also my dyed pants. "Hurry up." He breaks into a jog. I chase after him, bark sandals crunching small stones. Michael leads us away into the field, dead grasses whipping at my ankles.