by T. C. Edge
"So, have you made a choice, then?"
My mind takes a moment to work out the question. It seems something of an abrupt change of subject. I take a sip of wine, keen to avoid it a little longer. I know she's talking about Elian and Jude.
"I...haven't had much time to think about it, Kira," I say. "You know, with all the fighting and killing. It's kinda distracting."
"You want my advice?"
I let out a breath. "Fine, go on then."
She turns back, for a moment, and looks to the city, merging into the dusky air. She pauses, thinking, as though trying to arrange her words.
"You love them both, right?" she asks finally.
"Is that advice? It sounds more like a question."
"Then answer it. I'm getting there."
I sigh. "Yes, I guess I do."
"And Jude you've known all your life?"
"Yes."
"And Elian, what, a few months?"
I nod.
She purses her lips, thinking again. I'm not hearing anything groundbreaking yet.
"You're not just going to tell me to follow my heart, are you?" I ask her. "If you are, then don't bother. My heart doesn't seem to have a very good sense of direction."
She breaks into a smile. "No, Amber, I wasn't going to say that."
"Great. Then what?"
"Quite the opposite, actually."
I frown. "Follow my...head?"
"In a word, yes." I'm slightly taken aback. It doesn't sound like helpful advice. "Look," she goes on, trying to explain, "who knows what your love for each of them means. Maybe your love for Jude is just a deep affection, because you grew up together. Maybe your love for Elian is because you link your fires, and that creates a strong bond. If you can't work that out, then no one can. So perhaps it's best if you just think of the bigger picture."
"OK," I say, interested. "And what's that?"
She turns to the city again. "You heard Perses earlier," she says. "It was a nice speech, don't get me wrong, but it's not going to be easy. You think these people are just going to accept the Fringers as equals? They've been entrenched in their beliefs for generations. That's not going to change overnight."
"You sound like Elian," I tell her. "That was his reservation."
She looks me in the eye. One of her brows lift into a slant. "They're going to need symbols, Amber. Strong connections between the Fringe and Olympus." She tilts her head to the side. "Marriage can do that, you know. A marriage between a prominent Fringer, and a prominent Olympian?" She lets the statement hang for a while.
"So, Elian," I whisper. "You think me and him should..."
She nods. "Perses will need all the help he can get, and both of you can give him that. You can help bridge that gap. Maybe that's how you make your choice?"
I slip away into my thoughts, considering her words. It is hard to deny that I find them compelling. The political marriage aspect alone is sensible, a way of showing solidarity between Olympus and the Fringe. It would give me a way out, too, of having to make the choice.
But beyond that, what is my immediate reaction? With my mind so heavy with all that's happened, it's hard for me to really consider it. Yet somewhere behind all that, in the clear, unburdened spaces, I find joy in the thought, joy in the match.
Even now, as I look to the jeeps rushing our way, I can see it happening. It would break Jude's heart, but I see it. It just...makes sense.
"Well, think on it, anyway," Kira finishes. "I should get back. Come join us when you're ready. And don't worry, Amber. It's over. I'm sure your family is fine."
She moves off, leaving me to wait a little longer. A number of others among the remaining Fringers begin to gather, eager too to hear what's been happening. I step out, as the jeeps arrive. I glow, a beacon of light, for Jude to follow.
He wastes no time in springing from the forward jeep, hurrying towards me, taking me into his arms. I turn my mind from Kira's advice, from Elian, from all such thoughts, and hand this moment to Jude alone. His arms are strong, his embrace tight. His words come quick, but clear.
"What's happened here?" he asks, speaking into my ear. "We could see it from the distance. The camp...the dead..."
"There's a lot you don't know, Jude," I say. I pull back and look into his warm eyes. "The city has been taken, and the Prime and Overseer are dead. I got Lilly out," I say, before he can ask, his eyes screaming the question. "She's...different now." I shake my head again. "There's so much you need to hear."
Now my eyes call a question. My parents, how are they? Is Hunter's Station safe?
He is quick to put me at ease. "There was a fight," he explains. "Some of the militia were killed by the ones Brie awakened." He rests a hand on my shoulder. "Your parents are fine, Amber. Not many died. Not like...here." He looks up again. The scent of death pervades the air.
From the side, Keith comes marching, the head of the League militia. His eyes look around sharply, his usually soft voice now tight and urgent. "Amber, I'm glad you're all right. Where is Alberta? I need to update her."
My heart and eyes sink. Telling someone new is like reliving her death all over.
My expression tells the story in itself, twisting in grief, turning away. I am grateful when Burton, still running the Fringers here, steps over from among them to tell Keith what happened. To speak it myself merely opens the wound as it tries to knit shut.
But ahead of me, Jude stands, those consoling eyes drawing out my pain anew. "I'm so sorry, Amber." His soft words, and the tender touch of his embrace, are comforting, though not what I need. They cause me to break down once more, tears spilling freely from my eyes.
I suppose it's not just about my grandmother. It is about it all; the death, the war, the explosion of relief that it's all over. And one more thing besides...
I have just decided, if only provisionally, that I am to choose Elian. I suppose it's about that as well.
About breaking Jude's heart.
215
AMBER
Funerals.
I've seen enough of them to last a lifetime.
Havenites, Neoromans, Olympians, Fringers. I've seen hundreds burn, thousands. But none have been quite like this.
Her pyre is simple, built by hand. No powers were used in its making, no Forgers tasked with speeding the job. It took us about an hour, the small group of us. Burton, Keith, Jude, me. My father and Bryan, now arrived from Hunter's Station. Secretary Burns lent a hand too, as did Kira and Emperor Domitian. Even General Decimus laid a piece of wood to its foundations. For all the questions my grandmother posed him, I know he respected her greatly. Perhaps he did because of those questions. She was never one to hold an opinion at bay.
The pyre is complete now, and my grandmother lies atop it. She wears simple robes, a bit of colour here and there. Some red for the fire in her blood. Some muted browns and greens to signify her decades spent in the woods. She will always be remembered, now, for the work she did to save the Fringe. It will be her legacy, one spoken through the ages. And the Prime and Overseer, those who cast her out, will have their names and titles branded evil for evermore.
I stand with my family - Lilly, my mother, my father to my sides. Jude and Grace, an extension of our group, stand arm in arm alongside us. Others are here to pay their respects. Burns, the General, the Emperor, Commanders Maximus and Ares. Kira stands with her husband-to-be, alongside Brie and Adryan. And Perses too, newly anointed ruler of the city, stands tall in his funeral robes, face shaven, head not, eyes black pools of sorrow.
Marcus, too, takes position nearby, with a clutch of soldiers who'd been touched by my grandmother's warmth. There are even a few people from Olympus here, those who knew her many years ago, when she was the Chosen Fire-Blood, in her early years among the Children of the Prime. They stand to one side, each of them old and frail. I will look to speak to them all when this is done. I want to know how she once lived. I want to know it all.
Finally, Elian. He stands with hands clasped together, head
bowed low as the fires are lit. I know he feels partly responsible, ridiculous as it is. When those you care for die, you often seek to take blame upon your shoulders, lose sight of rational thought.
If I was stronger, he's thinking, I wouldn't have needed her flame. And perhaps she'd still be alive.
It is the cold council that accompanies loss. He knew her only a little, but knows her importance to me, and others. His sadness is real, his regret authentic. It makes me care for him even more, the kind heart that can now be let to breathe.
The flames begin to rise around her, as I stand next to my father, who watches on with stoic eyes. His arm is clutched to mother, who grips at Lilly too. We huddle as a family, returned together as one, reunited in the aftermath of this great war, never to be torn apart again.
Her dying wish has been granted.
No one speaks, as the smokes swirl and flames crack, her body now able to burn. It is the case with Fire-Bloods at their death, their skin and flesh no longer protected by their powers. I find some nice poetry in that.
Not everyone lasts long, moving off in their own good time. Some, I know, have other funerals to attend to, the dead still being gathered and burned, even days after the battle was won. It is an especially arduous time for the Neoromans, their senior commanders and leaders in particular. There custom, I find, is to think of the deeds of the fallen, to stand for hours as they burn, their flesh taken to ash. Each fallen Neoroman soldier, whether regular trooper or Imperial Guard, deserves the respect of being remembered. For the likes of Ares and Max, the task takes time. They knew many, and knew them well. Those days, for such men, are spent in deep thought.
Soon enough, as the figures disperse, I find myself left alone with my family. The rest depart, to give us this moment. We cling a little tighter, standing upon the lonely plains outside the city. It was decided to have the funeral here, rather than within the walls, or back at Pine Lake. Somewhere neutral, we thought, where those who wished to attend could come. In the end, I don't think she'd care. She is probably somewhere up there now, shaking her head and laughing down at us as we huddle together and mourn.
Eventually, we draw back, and let the fires complete their feast alone.
We return to the camp as a family, moving to join the Fringers there. And that night, we fall to celebration, remembering the woman who made it her life's purpose to save them.
Much happens in those days and weeks following the end of the war, some things moving quickly, others at a gradual pace, as the city licks its wounds.
With the Fringe now secured, and a peace fashioned between Olympus, New Haven, and Neorome, runners are sent out to try to track down Penelope and Judith. Their departure with thousands of Fringers felt necessary to them at the time, but that is no longer the case. Hopefully they'll be found safe and well, and can return to reunite with the other leaders of the League. It particular, I'd like to see Penelope and Bryan back together. They looked like they'd make quite a charming couple.
As expected, the structure of the city's governance and leadership is swiftly rearranged, with the positions of Herald and Chosen abolished. With the lies and illusions of the Overseer removed, such titles no longer carry any weight. Some will continue to aid Perses in leadership roles. Others may find themselves in lesser positions of power in time. And others titles and roles too, such as the Collectors, no longer hold a function. The Fringe will not be required to give tribute anymore. A new, fair society is to be established.
And to that end, even the label of 'Children of the Prime' is to fade into history. There is no Prime anymore, and the people were never their children. They will remain Olympians only, the city carrying the name for the sake of continuity. But their vaunted status will be removed. The Fringe are to serve no more.
I think much during those days on Kira's words, my new duty now to these people. They echoed what I once thought - that I could help bridge the gap between the Fringe and Olympus, and perhaps Elian could too. I didn't give much thought back then to marriage, but now it circles in my mind like an eagle hunting prey. I only have to tell Jude now, and tell Elian too. I feel pompous and ridiculous to be in such a position. I choose, then, to speak to Perses first.
I find him at the heart of the city, the great hill already being dismantled. It was Brie's idea, I've heard, to tear it down with the Forgers, use the stone and rock to help rebuild. Perses liked the idea immediately, and made it a top priority. And with that great construction as a backdrop, I ask to speak with my mentor alone.
I don't dance around the topic, knowing Perses has little time these days. I step right into it, needing to get it done.
"I think I should marry Elian," I say.
His chin tilts up, brows lifting. "Oh?"
"We can help bring the people together," I tell him. "I've thought about it, and it makes sense. What...what do you think?"
"I think you need to ask yourself another question," Perses says. He leans down. "Do you love him?"
The question is a true test of me. I find that I nod without pause.
"And Jude? You have made your choice then?"
My conviction falters now, at hearing his name. I still love them both, I think, but my heart seems to lean towards Elian. It isn't just the importance of the possible merger, the bridging of the gap. It's something more than that. With Jude, I feel so comfortable, so natural, so safe. But when our lips have touched, I've felt something awkward, something almost out of place. I wouldn't say it's like kissing my brother, but it's certainly like kissing my best friend. Perhaps, if I tugged at that thread, we'd fall into a deep state of bliss, and I'd never love anyone better.
But, there is none of that with Elian. It feels natural, and easy, and something primal in me yearns for it. There is no baggage to contend with, no skeletons hidden away. My doubts over him have been because of Jude, my guilt at betraying him, or so I perceived it, and in doing so, betraying the Fringe.
Now, none of that matters. We are together as one, all of us, and the choice has become more easy. I look to Perses, into those wise, paternal eyes, and nod once more.
"I have," I say, confirming it with my words.
He leans down further, all but falling to a knee. I am such a child to him in statue, so diminutive and small. His great paw grips my upper arm, and his voice becomes unusually soft. "This is your choice, Amber," he says. "You did not need to come to me..."
"I wanted to," I cut in. "I want your approval."
"You have it." He frowns earnestly. "You have always had it."
"And," I whisper, "you think it will help? Me and Elian, marrying. Will it help unite these lands?"
"It may, Amber," he says. "It may. But you are so young, and have your life ahead of you. Think first of yourself, and then this city. If Elian is your choice, then I am happy for you. But do not concern yourself with marriage quite yet. We can leave that discussion for another time."
He draws me into a hug, and steps away to continue his duties.
I seek out Elian next, and find him outside of the city in the Neoroman camp. They are leaving soon, I know, the Neoromans and Havenites gathering their things to begin their long march south. I feel a note of sadness as I enter the camp and see them packing up. It is morning, and they will be gone by afternoon. These lands will feel so bare without them.
In the heart of the base, as the tents and marquees are folded, and the supplies gathered upon the jeeps and great transports, I find Elian standing with Secretary Burns. He is saying goodbye to the man who gave him such trust. To the man, in the end, who released him from the Prime, and helped him overcome his demons.
I step towards them, though don't make it all the way. Kira, speeding like lightning, cuts me off, materialising in front of me in her flowing crimson robes. Her face is brightly lit, her hair radiant red. She has a glow about her, that of a woman who is looking to the future with excitement. The often taciturn girl has turned a corner, it would seem. And, as if to prove it, she forces me into an im
mediate hug, the sort that I gave her, some time ago, when she successfully returned Jude from the wilds.
"I'm so glad I caught you, Amber," she says. "We're leaving this afternoon."
"I heard," I say. "I'm going to miss you, you know."
"Little old me? Come on, you've got plenty to be doing here. Anyway, we'll see each other again soon." She raises her eyes. "You didn't forget about my wedding, did you?"
A tentative smile tugs at me lips. "You were...serious about that?" I ask. "About me coming to Neorome?"
"Hell yes I was serious," she calls, smiling brightly. "Everyone's going to be there. Even Perses said he'd come, if he can take the time. I think he'll use it as an excuse to strengthen ties between us. It'll be a wedding, and summit, that sort of thing. So, how about it?"
"How about it!" I say. "When? When!"
"To be confirmed," she breathes, glancing over to Domitian nearby. "People need a bit of time, obviously, to sort things out. The army's heading home with General Decimus, but some of us will be going back to New Haven first. I guess a month or two, and we'll all be gathering over there in Neorome. So, I can count on you?"
"Damn right you can count on me!" I say.
She smiles. "Good." Her eyes switch to Elian. "And, what we talked about? You had much time to think about it?"
"Is 'too much time' a thing?" I ask, deadpan.
"Probably, yeah. Don't overthink it. Just follow your heart."
I look at her blankly. "That's the opposite of what you told me before."
"Yeah, well, what do I know?" She winks and steps back. "See you in Neorome, Amber. You're gonna love the place."
She retreats back into the rush, my heart buoyed, my blood active with the thrill of the future. I pace forward quickly, as Burns sees me coming.
"Ah, Amber," he says. "Come to say goodbye?"
I'm going to have to go through a few of those, I know. There are many here whom I'd like to say farewell to, even though I may see them again soon.
"What else, Leyton?" I ask. I pull him into a hug. There'll be a lot of those too. "All set to go?"
