No one moved, no one uttered a word. All fighting had ceased, and my ears rang from the sudden absence of sound, my mind conjuring phantom cries and clashes of steel.
The dark, heavy clouds from the ash and soot still hung in the air, obstructing my view of everything except the few feet in front of me.
Tentatively, I took a step forward, my boot squishing in the wet ground. My legs shook, and breaths came in raspy pants as I kept my eyes averted from the bodies nearby.
Eventually, I would have to see them again, thank them for their sacrifice, but I couldn’t right now. If I did, I would surely break and never rise.
Instead, I circumvented their still-warm bodies, stepping lightly through the blood and muck to where my mother stood, Solace still in her arms.
I laid a gentle hand on my mother’s shoulder, jumping in surprise when she flinched at my touch.
“You can let her go now, Mom,” I rasped, the motion still painful but not as searing as it once was.
The Bondsmith turned to me with eyes that seemed stuck in a memory far away. She shook her head, bloodied and matted curls so like mine shaking with the movement, before her eyes finally cleared. With a grunt of disgust, she shoved the corpse of her sister away, Solace’s body making a loud splat where it fell.
“It’s over,” I said quietly, my grip tightening on her shoulder as the reality of what happened came crashing down. My fingers shook first, then the rest of me trembled before I felt my body sinking toward the ground.
Strong arms banded around my back, pulling me close to a soft chest that smelled like home.
“Say that again,” she whispered in my ear, pulling me ever closer.
“It’s over?”
She shook her head where it rested against my own. “What you called me.”
I frowned, the details of the last few hours hazy and muddled.
“Mom?”
My mother let out a gasping sob as she pulled me close, her heart beating rapidly against my own. The sudden expulsion of emotion had tears wetting the corners of my eyes, and I quickly followed suit, the two of us collapsing in a heap of tears and bloodied limbs.
“You’ve never called me that before. It’s the first time . . . the first time since I’d lost you that I’ve heard that word fall from your lips,” she whispered in my ear.
I had no words to offer her, no platitudes, so I simply tightened my hold and basked in the love of a mother who ultimately risked everything for the safety of her child.
I was under no guise that, without the Bondsmith intervening, I would have died today. Rohak would have died. Lex, Ilyas, Folami, Ellowyn, and Torin would have died.
We had already lost so many—countless bodies would need to be identified and funeral pyres lit—but she’d at least saved us.
Saved Elyria.
My sobs quieted eventually as I wiped my face and pulled my head from my mother’s shoulder. Gazing into her glacial eyes, it was like seeing my mother for the first time—not the Bondsmith, not Sharol, my mentor, or the innkeeper in Isrun, but my mother.
We smiled watery at each other, letting our salty tears wash away traces of the battle from our cheeks.
Gasping and covered in sweat and grime, Torin climbed to his feet beforehelping Ellowyn to hers. He pulled her into a tight hug, resting his chin against her head with his eyes closed before he released a breath. With it, wind came, dispelling the black, acrid smoke and exposing the extent of the battle for all to see.
My breath caught in my throat, hand coming to cover my mouth as the utter devastation we wrought on the plains of Deucena came into full focus.
Words could not describe, could not do justice to the carnage that remained.
Countless bodies lay sprawled on the ground, the once-green grass a mess of brown mud and red blood. Pools of it combined with water from Water Mages, creating a small lake at the lowest point, where various body parts were visibly poking out.
Carrion already swooped in the sky, their caws one of the only sounds as Mages and Vessels alike began searching for their friends amongst the dead.
Leather creaked, and low murmured voices rose together as groups and individuals splashed through the pond, pulling bodies up to look at faces.
Some corpses were beyond recognition; either burned to cinders from Fire Magic or missing their heads or faces.
