“I do not think it can be undone,” I said. “I… don’t know if I could. She’s…” There were too many words, none of them doing Izzy justice.
My mother’s lips compressed even more, the pain of her own loss radiating off her. She nodded. “Yes, I know.” Then another, “I’m so sorry. I never wanted this for you.”
Because the loss of my father had devastated her. I’d been a child, but I’d had enough awareness to notice the change, the light going out of her eyes, the heaviness to her step, the tears.
“It feels great,” I said, voice soft.
“I know, I know it does, so wonderful… until…” A faint hope glimmered in her eyes. “But perhaps… your life is safe? You can live in peace now?”
Yeah… that wasn’t going to happen.
“I’m about to go to war against all the elven armies… and the one I love is leading the charge.”
Tears welled in my mother’s eyes, and she shook her head, overcome.
Here in Urval, war was a way of life, a permanent thing. We’d always been at war with the pyrkai, and most thought… we always would be.
My mother blinked her tears away and hardened. “Then you have to end it, now.” Her tone brokered no argument. “Walk away before fate takes her, or you. The loss is too great. End it now, Amar, you must!”
Yeah… that’s what I’d expected from her, and it dragged up all my fears around myself and Izzy. I knew how likely it was that one of us would die in the coming war. When I’d served in the forces here, I’d seen so many of my friends and comrades fall. And being such empathetic creatures, I’d felt my mother’s pain after my father’s passing, the drowning depths of her loss. I feared the same would happen to me… or Izzy, but what could I do?
“I can’t leave her,” I said. “I’ve sworn to help her, to… stay with her.”
My mother squeezed my hands hard, her head falling in regret and loss all over again. She shook her head and couldn’t seem to stop.
“I’m sorry.” My turn to say it. “I… I tried to stay away from her, but… I couldn’t. I tried pushing her away and we were still drawn back together. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost her. I know it’s going to hurt like hell, but… what can I do?”
“Nothing,” my mother said, voice faint. “If you’re that far gone… you’re lost.” There was a note of disappointment in her voice, which tore at my heart.
And that was that.
I’d failed my mother, done the one thing she’d warned me against, the one thing she feared for me more than anything else.
Needless to say, it was a subdued visit after that. We ate dinner in sullen silence, then I returned to my old room and had a fitful sleep, my dreams plagued with images of Izzy in pain or dying.
I left early the next morning, having slept little, out the door before my mother woke. I sneaked across the city, then met with a few old friends outside the military compound, who let me in.
The generals had met, swayed by my words and those of their own men… and had agreed to lend us as much of a fighting force as they could. They’d withdraw all of their forces from the front and keep only what was needed to defend our settlements. The rest would come with me to Seial. Twelve thousand Salmaeri and three thousand concubi.
I’d done it. I’d brought the forces of Urval into the fight.
So why did I feel like I failed?
VYNSIEL
My meetingwith the angels of Elysial had gone exactly as expected. The seraphim were all for fighting for freedom, while the sylphim — those that had even deigned to come and listen — were fervently against helping the rebellion.
The sylphim had prospered under the elves and even more under Valnea, who trusted them for some reason. And in return, the sylphim were fervently behind the false queen. They were also against the seraphim leaving Elysial to help us.
If anything, that was the upside to this little revolution in the realm of sky and light. If all the seraphim left, the sylphim would lose their fighting force against the nephilim. If they wanted to continue the war here, they’d have to fight it themselves. Moreover, they’d not be able to send as many troops to help Valnea, since they’d need warriors to defend the cities of Elysial, in case the nephilim attacked.
In many ways, it was nearly as good a result as if the sylphim had joined us.
And once preparations were underway to transport theseraphim to Seial — coordinating with dragons and others for the mass teleportation — I had another task to attend to.
My family had come crawling back to me.
They’d lost their position of privilege when I’d turned on Saldrea and now had next to nothing. They’d be coming with me back to Seial, but my mother had asked to speak to me before that happened, all formal and apologetic.
