Heir to a Fallen Star

Chapter 6

The deep, peaceful sleep that had wrapped around you like a cocoon vanishes in a terrifying instant.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

The heavy oak door of the apothecary rattles on its hinges. Loud, gravelly voices explode from the misty streets outside, cutting through the quiet morning light.

"Open up in there! King's Guard! By order of the Magistrate, open this door immediately!"

You bolt upright, your heart hammering violently against your ribs. The lavender velvet of your robe is still warm, but a sudden spike of ice-cold adrenaline shocks your system.

Beside you, Kaelen is already moving. The transition from deeply asleep to lethally alert takes him less than a heartbeat. In one fluid, silent motion, he is on his feet. He doesn't look panicked; his jaw is set, his moss-green eyes narrowed and scanning the room as his thief instincts instantly take over.

"They're early," Kaelen whispers, his voice a low, gravelly rasp. He drops to one knee, snaps the velvet box containing the star shard shut, and shoves it deep into the pocket of your robe. "Keep that hidden."

BANG!

"We know someone's in there! Open up or we break it down!"

"It's not the bandits," Kaelen murmurs, his eyes darting to the heavy iron bolt on the door, which is the only thing keeping them out. "It's the city guard. If the captain reported the theft, he must have framed me—and anyone associated with me—to the Magistrate to get the law to do his dirty work."

He turns to you, grabbing your shoulders gently but firmly. His grip is steady, grounding you amidst the rising panic. "Iris, listen to me. They don't have proof of anything yet, but if they find me here in your father's clothes, we're both done for. Is there a back exit, or a cellar door that leads away from the main street?"

"There is, but… I’m coming with you!"

Kaelen opens his mouth to argue, the protective instinct flashing fiercely in his moss-green eyes, but he stops himself. He looks at your determined expression, then down at the pocket where your family's starlight shard is safely hidden. He knows that if the Guard tears this place apart and finds any connection to him—or worse, the artefact—you won't be safe here anyway.

"Alright," he says, a sharp, fierce nod cutting through his hesitation. "We stick together. Lead the way."

CRACK!

The wood around the door's iron bolt splinters dangerously as another heavy blow rains down from the outside. "Break it down!" a guard shouts from the street.

You spring into action. Grabbing the flowing skirts of your lavender robe, you rush toward the back of the shop, past the shelves of tinctures and dried flora. You shove aside a heavy woven tapestry on the rear wall, revealing a low, unassuming wooden door that leads down into the darkness of the cellar.

"In here!" you whisper frantically.

Kaelen follows you instantly. Just as the sound of the front door completely giving way echoes through the shop with a deafening CRASH of splintering timber, Kaelen slips into the cellar behind you and quietly pulls the door shut, sliding a small brass latch into place.

It won't hold them for long, but it buys you seconds.

The cellar is cool and smells of damp earth and aging oak barrels. You guide Kaelen through the pitch blackness, navigating by pure memory until you reach the far wall. Behind a stack of empty crates sits the iron-bound cellar hatch—the old coal chute that lets out into the narrow, fog-laden alleyway running parallel to the harbour.

"This is it," you breathe, your heart hammering against your ribs.

Kaelen steps up, his powerful shoulders bracing against the heavy iron hatch. He heaves upward. With a low, metallic groan, the hatch unlatches, letting a shaft of grey morning mist and the sharp scent of sea salt pour into the cellar.

From up the stairs, you can hear the heavy, thudding boots of the King's Guard stomping across your shop floor. "Search the rooms! Check upstairs! They couldn't have gone far!"

Kaelen climbs out into the alley first, then reaches his hands back down into the chute to haul you up effortlessly. The morning air is freezing, and the thick sea fog wraps around you both like a shroud, completely obscuring the city.

He slams the hatch shut and takes your hand, his grip tighter and more fierce than ever before. He looks at you, a dangerous, exhilarating grin breaking through the tension on his face.

"Well, gold-locks," he whispers, his eyes shining in the mist. "Looks like you're officially a fugitive now. Which way?"

The sudden, violent end to your peaceful morning leaves you completely numb. The adrenaline pumping through your veins feels less like fire and more like ice. Your mind spins in a chaotic blur—you have no idea where to turn, where to hide, or what your next step could possibly be. You're shivering in the damp harbour mist, still half-asleep, your heart aching with a profound wave of longing. Just minutes ago, you were warm, safe, and nestled against Kaelen’s chest. You would give anything to crawl back into that moment by the fire and hold onto it just a little bit longer.

Kaelen looks at you, and the roguish excitement in his eyes instantly softens into deep concern. He sees the shell-shocked emptiness in your grey gaze, the way you’re trembling in your velvet robe, completely overwhelmed by the sudden loss of your home.

Without a word, he pulls you sharply against him. He wraps his heavy arms around you, shielding your small frame from the biting wind, burying you against his chest just like he did by the hearth. For a brief, stolen second in the foggy alleyway, he gives you that warmth back.

"Hey... look at me," Kaelen murmurs, his voice a low, grounding rumble against your ear. He pulls back just enough to cup your face in his hands, forcing you to focus on his fierce, steady moss-green eyes. "Breathe, Iris. Just breathe. I’ve got you."

The shouting inside your shop grows louder, boots thudding right above the cellar chute.

"You don't need to know where we're going," Kaelen whispers urgently, his thumb gently wiping a stray tear or drop of mist from your cheek. "That's my job now. I know a place. An old safehouse near the upper cliffs—dry, hidden, and completely safe from the Guard. I'm going to get you there, and I'm going to build you the biggest fire you've ever seen. I promise."

He drops his hands to slip one firmly around yours, locking his fingers with yours just like he did in the serpent's cave. He leans down, pressing a quick, fierce kiss to your forehead.

"But we have to move right now, gold-locks. Trust me?"

"Ok." I whisper.

That one little word is all he needs.

Kaelen gives your hand a firm, reassuring squeeze, and then you’re moving. He guides you smoothly into the thick, protective blanket of the sea fog, navigating the labyrinth of narrow alleyways with the effortless grace of a ghost. Your lavender velvet robe sweeps against the cobblestones, but Kaelen keeps a steady, brisk pace, adjusting his long strides so you never stumble.

Every time a distant shout echoes through the mist or the heavy stomp of guards' boots rings out on a nearby street, Kaelen pulls you into the shadow of an awning or behind a stack of shipping crates. He presses his back against the wall, pulling you flush against his chest, shielding you until the danger passes. In those quiet, tense heartbeats, you can feel the steady, rhythmic thumping of his heart, a constant reminder that you aren't alone.

The damp, salty air of the lower docks slowly gives way to a crisper, biting wind as he leads you upward, climbing the winding stone staircases that carve into the city’s upper cliffs. The grand architecture of the Magistrate’s district looms high above, completely swallowed by the dense fog.

Finally, Kaelen turns down a dead-end alleyway choked with overgrown ivy. At the very end sits a small, weathered stone cottage, its windows dark and boarded up to look completely abandoned.