"They welcomed me. Gave me a home. Treated me like family." Her hands clenched into fists before they lost their strength and her fingers uncurled. "And because of me, they're dead. All of them dead."
"Because of a tyrant," I corrected. "Because my father is a monster who destroys everything beautiful out of spite and fear."
"Because I exist." She raised her head again, meeting my eyes with terrible clarity. "If I'd never been born, if my mother had never, "
"Stop." I caught her hand before I'd consciously decided to move. "You don't get to erase yourself from existence because evil people do evil things. That's not how this works."
"Isn't it?" She didn't pull away, but her fingers remained limp in my grip. "Maybe Lyralei was wrong. Maybe I'm not meant to protect anything. Maybe I'm just the final catastrophe waiting to happen. I should have died instead of Lyralei. You can’t tell me Lyralei wouldn’t have had a better chance at defeating the Devourer than I do."
I wanted to argue. Wanted to tell her she was more than prophecy or power or potential destruction. That I'd seen her dance beneath Veil-light, seen her laugh with my team, seen her choose joy despite every reason not to.
But the words wouldn't come. Because part of me also had doubts.
The silence returned, thicker now. Oppressive.
Across the cavern, Zephyr had curled on his side, either sleeping or pretending to. Kael and Kane sat with their backs to the wall, staring at nothing.
We should rest. Should conserve strength for whatever came next. But rest required peace we didn't possess, safety we couldn't feel.
I released Seris's hand, and she withdrew immediately, curling tighter into herself.
Hours passed. Or maybe minutes. The timeless quality of this place made measurement impossible.
Eventually, exhaustion claimed the others. Kane's breathing evened into sleep. Kael's head drooped forward. Even Zephyr stilled completely.
Seris remained awake. I could tell from the tension in her shoulders, the occasional shudder that ran through her frame.
"You should rest," I said quietly.
"Can't." Barely a whisper. "Every time I close my eyes, I see her falling."
I understood that. Had lived with that particular torture for years, the ghosts that waited behind closed eyelids.
"She knew what she was doing," I offered. "Made her choice with full awareness."
"That doesn't make it hurt less."
No. It didn't.
"I thought..." Seris's voice cracked. "For a few weeks, I thought maybe happiness was possible. That maybe I could have something that wasn't pain or fear or?— "
She stopped. Swallowed hard.
"It was an illusion," she finished. "A brief, beautiful lie before reality reasserted itself."
"It wasn't a lie."
"Wasn't it?" She finally looked at me fully. Tears tracked through the dirt on her face, but her expression remained blank. Numb. "Everything good in my life ends the same way. Fire and death and ash. Maybe that's all there is. All there'll ever be."
I wanted to deny it. Wanted to promise her something better waited ahead. But I'd built a life on truth, however brutal, and couldn't bring myself to offer false comfort now.
So I just sat with her in the darkness and said nothing.
The moss-light flickered, and somewhere far above, the world continued without us.
CHAPTER 19
SERIS
