(10) - A Mouse's Resolve -

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THEY HAD RETURNED to the Dying City and barricaded themselves in Axion's rooms to discuss what came next. Abby sat around a table, next to Margo, while the former Archmage sat by herself,  running her hand over the tabletop. Strips of wood separated and curled with each pass of her claws. Axion lingered in front of a window, a bottle of dark ale strangled in his hand. In front of them, an image of Lucy, brought to life by a stone Margo had pulled from her pack, which she had used frequently in her days of being the Dawn Queen's spy, stalked back and forth.

He had wanted to join them, but Reven refused to let him leave Aelurus. Reports had landed on his desk that spoke of rising tensions between the Moonborns and the Cloudian refugees. Several caravans carrying aid had gone missing in Swift and Harvest territory. Reven suspected the Moonborn Lords and Ladies the perpetrators, that they would rather their crops rot than fill the bellies of Cloudian scum.

Lucy shirked his duty plenty, in favor of more frivolous pursuits, and although Reven had conceded saving magick and all the Eridan a noble endeavor, he could not, in good conscience, allow Lucy to vacate his throne. Doing so would open the realm up to fighting between the houses and possible war, with the Cloudians caught in the middle. 

Begrudgingly, Lucy agreed to stay behind.

Margo had presented their plan - the Shadlings would take asylum in Aelurus and be given half of the territory in the Black Sands, that Lucy had set aside for the Cloudians. And after the realm had been evacuated, the Dusk Stag would be released.

No one spoke of what would happen to the Evernight without the Dusk Stag's magick, but they all knew its fate.

A heavy silence pressed in on them from all sides after Margo had explained her plan. Abby fidgeted with her tunic, Margo stabbed at a few mushrooms, scorched and shriveled and left behind on a serving platter. Calleighdia continued terrorizing the table.

Axion stared at the stars in the Evernight's sky, an unnatural light brightening the horizon. His face was inscrutable, his eyes and skin dark, his stars hidden beneath his clothes. He was as much a shadow as the ones dripping down the walls, and pooling along the floor.

"Well," said Lucy, staring at each miserable face, "While the silence is truly delightful, I'm afraid I have things to tend to." He crossed his arms, his Aelurian muscles bulging under his robes. His fur stuck straight up, agitated. "Being a king and all that."

Abby's gaze shifted to Axion. She wished he would talk, like he had when they'd been in the dungeons, but he'd been quiet since Margo and Calleighdia arrived. She was beginning to think their earlier conversation, where Axion had been unnaturally sincere, had all been a dream.

"Axion," Abby said, slowly. He raised his bottle of ale to his lips, and drank. "You've been quiet, but I think it's only right you tell us what you think. This involves your people after all."

His fingers twitched, a muscle in his jaw tightening. He took another longer sip on his drink, his gaze on the world beyond the window. Abby wondered if perhaps he was drinking it in - this image of his home. Memorizing the shape of every shadow, the curve of every tree bough, the myriad of colors against the ever-present dark backdrop. If she had known her world was going to end the night of her thirteenth birthday, surely she would have done the same- etching every line of her father's face into her mind, so that she wasn't left wondering years later if it was the right side of his face his smile preferred or the left.

"It's a good plan," added Margo. She placed her fork down, and met Abby's gaze. Abby noted her refusal to look Axion in the eyes, even when it was apparent she was talking to him. Axion's words to her in Darkmoore's dungeon no doubt still lingered in her mind. "It saves everyone. With Aelurus's help, the Shadlings will have a new home."

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