by C D Beaudin
He’d hesitated with that one. Knowing it was wrong wasn’t a factor, though. He’d plunged his sword through his mother’s heart, and his heart nearly broke, but his mind had been numb to it. He’d rationalized it, as he was taught to do. But that’s the thing. Cadets aren’t taught that. It’s just something that automatically happens when you’ve been brainwashed. Wrongs become rights because you can think them into being so.
It had taken him awhile to realize that, and when he did, he’d nearly killed himself over what he’d done to his mother. He’d murdered her. His father would have disowned him, hated him. But he had come so far, he had done too many things in the name of revenge that he knew he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t waste the lives he took, couldn’t waste the years he spent training with those he was raised to be wary of.
And so he continued. But the guilt still ate at him.
Saine glances at Kepp, who’s still tied up, staring at Eldowyn with dark, murderous eyes. I feel guilt…but does he?
Kepp’s eyes meet his, and for a moment Saine’s back in that tavern, saving him from the hoard of angry brutes whom Kepp hustled money from. He remembers seeing him in the throne room of Kevah, a bow drawn on them as Kepp was Tamon’s protector. He recalls the desert, the heat, and the blood from his dry mouth, but he also remembers that Kepp was there every step of the way.
Now he doesn’t even recognize the elf. But he doubts anyone recognizes him either.
He doesn’t.
This is a battle like no other he’s ever fought. The enemy is now an ally, uniting against Crozacar, who’s fighting Idies, the rest fighting the Kahzacorians. No undead soldiers from what Saine can see, but he doubts they’d look any different from the Tarken. Gotham seems to have been forgotten about, but Saine wouldn’t rule him out quite yet. I can’t believe Aradon’s sleeping through this.
Ethiah fiercely protects Aradon, using her powers to fend off attackers. Saine isn’t sure if it’s in defense or comfort, but he’s a little angry that the only elf here with useful powers is on the sidelines. She should be fighting Crozacar. And Aradon, why hasn’t anyone woken him yet? He isn’t the only one facing the Cross.
Saine is struggling himself. The heat of the earth sends licks of fire along his legs, his heart beating too many times a minute, and he hears the rushing of his blood in his ears. It’s too fast. Everything is too fast. He can barely feel his steps, he doesn’t know when he strikes, only sees that he does, as if his instinct is controlling him and not the opposite. And that can be dangerous for a man. Especially when one’s a Red Warrior, where the instinct is to stop thinking and kill. Skilled soldiers? The skill is drilled into their heads so many times with such force the skill becomes nature, not knowledge. Aradon’s a good fighter, that’s true.
But he was made one.
No one’s born a Red Warrior.
He remembers standing over his mother, seeing her tied up, fear in her eyes but also the knowledge that he could destroy every last warrior that surrounded the fighting pit. He could save her, and she knew it. There was no plea in her eyes. She didn’t look worried. Only afraid for her son. But that was her mistake. She should have been afraid of him. Because he did what she thought he wouldn’t do.
Saine winces as he remembers the betrayal in her eyes as he lifted his sword, and the rest of it—the killing of his flesh and blood—was blurred, a hole in his memory. He doesn’t remember anything else of that day. Only the betrayal. He didn’t come out of his room for days.
There was no shock in her eyes. Her fear had left her, and the only thing left in her gaze was his perfidy. He could barely live with himself, but the Creed is strict against suicide. “Any warrior who takes his own life shall be forgotten, his body burned as that of a traitor’s.”
And if there’s one thing you don’t want to be, it’s a man who betrayed the Red Warriors.
He looks over at Aradon, his sleeping, exhausted-looking face hardened and defensive even in slumber. Traitor. But Saine also knows that to commit treason against the Creed is to have courage like no other.
Or maybe it’s stupidity, he really doesn’t know.
Maybe following the Creed is foolish? He’s unsure what to think. He’s spent so much of his life working toward the moment when he could finally kill Aradon, but the Bowman is still alive. Saine’s had so many opportunities. He could kill him right now, but he wants to be staring into Aradon’s eyes when he rips out his heart and crushes it in his hand. But what if he shouldn’t? What if his home can have a chance at becoming united?
Saine’s never been patriotic. He doesn’t really care where he came from, or about becoming a kingdom again. Nomarah is just a name given to the ground. An old, tattered flag hanging in the corner of the mess hall in the Red Warrior Village because even the warriors of Idies don’t care anymore. Nomarah is nothing but a memory.
But when he listens to Aradon’s passion, he can almost remember the memories like they are his own.
Turning to look back at Aradon, his eyes widen when he doesn’t see Ethiah. Swallowing, a thought springs to mind and he looks up at the mountain, sharpening his vision for any sign of the elf. He finds none.
He walks over to Kepp. “Where’s the silver-eyed brunette?”
The elf’s eyes are dismissive. “Which one?”
“I’m not playing games, Kepp.”
“Me either.”
Saine tightens his jaw. “Ethiah. Where’s Ethiah?”
He smirks. “I’ll tell you if you cut me loose.”
Saine shakes his head. “Who are you?”
“Kepp Starborn. Knight of Revera.”
“Your name means nothing to me. You are a different elf. Was our friendship always a lie?”
“Shouldn’t I be asking the same question, Besged?”
“How did you—”
“The ropes are around my limbs, not my ears.” He looks away as if bored with the conversation, but finally answers Saine’s original question. “She went up the mountain.”
“I knew it, that girl is going to get herself killed.” Saine turns away, ready to save the elf maiden’s skin until he finds his feet turning back to Kepp. He doesn’t even feel himself speak, he can’t feel his feet on the ground. He must have blacked out for a moment because the next thing he knows he’s climbing the mountain with Kepp. “What—?” He panics for a moment, and Kepp has to hold him down against the rock face to keep him from falling.
“What is wrong with you?”
“What are you—? How did I—?” He blinks, looking down. The height is too much. He swallows, staring at the rock he clings onto. “Oh, I’m going to be sick.”
“Yeah, well be sick on the other side, this is a new shirt.”
Saine looks at him. He fights it for a few moments but Kepp is just so ridiculous he can’t help but grin. “You’re such a knave.”
“Aw, thank you,” his voice is all lady-like, and he flutters his lashes.
Saine chuckles and looks up at the rest of the mountain. He shakes his head, leveling his gaze again. The ground is too far but the sky is too close. He knows Kepp’s staring at him. “I’m not fond of heights.”
“I remember. You clutched me so tightly when we were on that eagle, I thought my heart was going to come out of my mouth.”
Saine smiles weakly. “I missed you.”
“Past tense?”
“You’re here, aren’t you?”
Kepp shrugs, and Saine wonders if he isn’t here. And if Kepp knows it. “What happened, Kepp?”
“I should ask you the same thing.”
“But we aren’t talking about me right now. You’re fighting with Revera. With Crozacar. I mean, what are you thinking?”
“Well what if I’m not thinking? What if not thinking got me into this mess in the first place? And all I could think about was how much I hate my family, and how I wanted to see them suffer like I suffered? Revera understands me. She’s my family. Nakelle is my family. Even Karak is.” Kepp looks away
from him.
“I stopped thinking. When I think, I can see the wrong I’m doing. And I wonder if I should let go?” He looks at Saine. “This may be a surprise…but I want to live.” He sounds unsure, like he’s trying to convince himself but still knows it’s a lie.
“Then what are you doing with Revera? She’s trying to destroy the world, Kepp.”
“She’s saving it!”
Saine shakes his head. “That’s what she’d have you think, Kepp. I was trained to think a certain way, a wrong way. And it’s taken me awhile to realize that. I’ve been so consumed by revenge that I’ve destroyed my own life. I don’t want you to do the same.”
“It’s too late, Saine.” Kepp shrugs, his look defeated. “It’s too late.”
He continues to climb, and Saine follows him. In silence, Saine keeps his eye on the next ledge. He avoids the sky and the ground, and every time he even slightly slips, he clings on as strongly as he can, his heart racing like a pack of horses. The only time he does look down is an accident, and he wishes he hadn’t.
An ocean of black and silver below show the fighting, the yells, and the fray. But below it, blood-stained snow, redder than poppies, splashed across miles. Stark red, brighter than the fields of Eron. He knows he should feel guilt for not fighting with them. But they aren’t his people. He doesn’t have a people. Maybe he thought that the Resistance could become something more than just a band of warriors and misfortunates…but revenge…
He’s so tired of that word. He’s so tired of thinking that he still needs to take it. Why does he? Why shouldn’t he just give up with this mission he sent himself on since he was a boy? But that makes him doubt even more. He’s been fighting since he was a boy. Fighting in his father’s name. Rosh would be so disappointed in him, his mother probably cursing him from the Isle. What has he done? What has he done to his family, to himself?
And Adriel. She’ll never forgive him. He didn’t see her in the camp before the battle started. She’s probably not even here. Kepp. He looks up at him. He isn’t his friend anymore, but he still cares. Kepp’s his brother. Saine stops climbing, blinking back confusion and exhaustion in slick tears. He’s betrayed everyone he ever cared about. He’s betraying himself, because he feels something other than hate for Aradon.
Respect.
It makes him want to jump.
Hauling himself onto the top of a mountain ledge, the snow packs into his sleeve and against his neck, cold and wet, and uncomfortable. It’s snowing, but the ground is charred. Kepp stands beside him, looking at something. Saine follows Kepp’s gaze. Even higher up, fire meets white light, the red hide of the dragon illuminated by the light. And in the midst of it—
A glowing-white Ethiah.
Cold fire fills her veins as she throws a bolt of light at the dragon. She just needs to disable Gotham until she can get Aiocille’s soul out, then she’ll command Gotham to another land. Her energy flows through her, calling on the magic of the Light Pools. She can’t feel her skin, nor the earth below her feet. She’s floating in a cloud of light, weightless as she battles the dragon into submission. His fire is the only thing she feels.
Dragons are beings of magic. Not the kind of elves or the Etheren fairies of Avadega. They’re the children of the Fire Spirit, created by her but made into weapons by other beings. They were supposed to live in harmony with the Daia, the Fire Lords of the northwest. But they were used as weapons by the First Sorceress, and after the war they fled to eastern lands, barely heard from again until the First Age.
Ethiah read about their involvement in the War of Ardon. More importantly, she read about Gotham’s involvement. Given to the First Lieutenant. And now he has Aiocille’s soul in him. She’s going to save the elf lord, she just needs to make sure she doesn’t kill Gotham in the process. It isn’t his fault.
But if it comes down to a choice between the two, she prays Karak doesn’t resurface from whatever depths Crozacar’s locked him in.
Fire scorches her, and she lets out a scream, the light falling and her body hitting the icy ground, cracking and painful. The dragon above her, she lifts her hands and fires at him, but the action only sends shattering pain scattering inside her. She clenches her teeth, groaning, but she keeps the light fixated on him, breaking into his scales.
The dragon lets out a loud roar, one that sends fear piercing through the pain, and one thought enters her mind. Aradon.
She shouldn’t have left him. Why did she leave him? She had been keeping an eye on Gotham ever since Crozacar hopped down from the dragon’s back. She’d kept track of his heartbeat, blood flow. She’d listened for Aiocille. Anything, really. Anything that could give her a hint that Crozacar was communicating with him. Something that could indicate that the dragon was on the attack.
But there was nothing. And that’s what made her climb the mountain.
A flood of fire spreads, and it’s about to envelop her when something shields her from the flames. Lowering her defensive arms, she sees Saine blocking the flames with his body, and a hand grips her wrist and drags her out of harm’s way.
“Kepp.” She coughs, shuddering from the sudden cold. Watching Saine, she grimaces as he starts shooting arrows at the dragon. I hope he knows that won’t work. He’ll waste those. “What are you two doing up here?”
“He was worried about you.”
Ethiah pants. “Worried? He’s a liar. He’s probably up here to murder us.”
“He’d have done that already.” Kepp looks toward him. “I know him.”
“No one knows anyone. Everyone’s a liar.”
“Loving your world view, brunette.”
Ethiah glares at him. “I should kill you. You betrayed everyone in the Resistance.”
Kepp lies back on the snow, his muscles relaxing. “I’ve done worse.”
Ethiah tries to calm her shaking body. Not from the cold, but from the energy coursing through her. “Should I ask what?”
He shrugs. “Probably not.” Sitting up, he points at Saine, who continues to fire arrows. “Should we tell him that won’t work?”
Ethiah looks back at him. “He’s distracting Gotham.” She stares down at her trembling hands, rubbing her palms. “I need to get control of this or I’ll disintegrate myself and this mountain.”
Kepp stands. “Hey, as long as my pretty face doesn’t char, I don’t care.” He slides his bow from its holder and an arrow from his quiver. He walks over to Saine, nudging his arm. “Let’s dance.”
Ethiah sees Saine smile. Forgiveness is possible, even in war. She hopes Saine can forgive Aradon. She’s read the man’s thoughts. They’re confused, uncertain. Angry. There’s still hate in the Plainsman. But envy too. Envy for a better life. He’s angry that he’s come this far, done so many horrifying things, and now he isn’t sure if he even wants revenge.
He and Aradon are more alike than they realize.
Ethiah stands, only shaking slightly. Turning to the dragon, she clenches her fists, the light makes her veins shine as the power flows to her hands and she lets the beams go. They hit Gotham square in the head, the dragon screeching, loud and strangled, fire breathing from his mouth and onto Saine and Kepp. But instead of Saine blocking the elf, Kepp pushes him behind him.
As if on cue, Saine yells out, falling over onto Kepp. They tangle, both shouting as the flames envelop them. Kepp’s agonizing, strangled screams make her wince. But it also makes her realize something. Enemy of my enemy. They’re fighting the same battle. Kepp doesn’t want this, he mustn’t, or he wouldn’t have saved Saine.
Turning back to Gotham, Ethiah beams light at him, the flames extinguishing. Power flows through her, and her skin glows with light, energy emitting from her. She yells as the energy rises, strong and overwhelming. Her body is filled with it, pouring out of her, too much for her to contain. The feeling of the energy combining with her soul, extracting some of its own magic, makes the power stronger but pain begins to grow.
Pushing out her hands, she relea
ses a beam at Gotham. The whole sky lights up, the ground cracking with energy, like lightning breaking the ground. Gotham hits her with the hottest fire she’s ever faced, but she counters it, light against light, fire against fire. Her soul begins to heat, and blood begins to cool. Her power strengthens but her soul weakens. She screams, not giving up this fight. Pushing against the fire, Gotham meets her pressure, but she sees the light begin to devour the dragon’s fire.
A pulse inside her sends a surge of power into her fingertips, toes, and veins. Light beams through her and she reaches for the dragon, floating into the sky. Seeing through his scales, breaking aside his illuminated bones, she grabs the silver, shining orb that is Aiocille’s soul. Tearing it out, she hears the dragon roar before she feels the light leave her and the fire hit her back. From her place in the sky she hits the ground, hard and harrowing.
Ethiah lets out a squeaky breath as she tries to stand, falling back to the ground. Gotham’s screeching, and she hears the footsteps and worried voices of Saine and Kepp as they run to her.
In front of her, Gotham’s flying, a mangled mess of flight as the hole in his scales burns with orange fire. Tears cloud her vision, but the elven sight allows her to watch as the beast climbs into the air, as if drowning, trying to reach whatever safety lies in the clouds. He disappears behind the falling night.
All is silent for a moment. Ethiah hears no battle, or the worried voices of Saine or Kepp. She doesn’t know if it’s her own hearing or if everyone’s frozen, watching as a ghost from the past fights for its life. She just wanted to save Aiocille. It wasn’t Gotham’s fault. It wasn’t.
A piercing outcry, and a moment later Gotham falls as a star does, hitting the ground with an impact that shakes the mountainside. Ethiah closes her eyes, tears flowing down her cheeks as she cries, exhausted and weak. She feels sick, broken. Her power seems absent and distant. Gone. When her hearing returns, she feels hands roll her over onto her back, and she stares up at the faces peering down at her.
