The Last Red Year

TWENTY-THREE: White Light

 Kizlane stands on the palace balcony, trying not to put too much pressure on their new wooden leg. Kas sits on the bench next to them, finding it hard to meet their eyes. They're terrified for the future. They don't know what will happen next. They couldn't reason with Isri, and though Kizlane tried to convince them they understood, that it was okay, they still feel like the biggest disappointment in the world.

They don't know what to do. More and more mages are filing into the camp at the foot of the Golden Mountain every day, including two in green and yellow robes clearly in the style of Arch-Mages. So Kizlane and Hadling have already been replaced. The only two not in the number are Mirei and Ghiliss. Somehow that worries Kas even more. They're highest up on the food chain amongst the mages--wherever they are, whatever they're up to, it has to be important. They're probably back at the Magescourt, putting together last-minute preparations. Though for what, Kas isn't sure.

They never want to see that place again. In a perfect world, the choice would be Kas's to make. But this world is far from perfect.

"I have to go back," they say, words almost lost to a change in the wind. March is closing in--the turn of months is upon them, and with it the turn of a war they never wanted to fight. "I know I have to go back."

Kizlane looks sadly down at them, heavy circles beneath their eyes. "I'm sorry," they say softly, reaching up to wipe at their cheek with the sleeve of their blouse. There's an unspoken agreement between the two of them. This is too cruel of a war for a child their age to fight, but they're the only one in the world who can. So they will. So they must. So they have to.

"I wish Hadling was here," they breathe out, not meaning to actually say it out loud. Their hands are shaking.

"I do too." Kizlane offers them a hand, helping them up and pulling them into a hug. They're a little unsteady on their feet, still getting used to the prosthetic, but they're still as strong and warm and comforting of a presence as always. "I wish they were here all the damn time." They let go of Kas, awkwardly trying to crouch and ending up having to kneel with their wooden leg at an odd angle, taking the pendant Hadling gave Kas in their hand. "But they're lookin' out for you. I know they're lookin' out for you. They loved you so much, Kas."

It's the first time Kizlane has spoken about Hadling since they died.

"I'm going to do my best," Kas says. "I'm going to make them proud. I'm going to make you both proud." They brush their fingers across the green gemstone inlaid on the necklace, remembering Hadling's final words to the other Mages as they charged into their last fight. I'm done being a coward. They hope they can be that brave too. They will be. They have to be.

"You've already made me proud enough." Kizlane sounds so much like Tallin in that moment. Kas can hear the pride in their voice, but they can't understand it. Everything that's happening around them feels unstoppable. They couldn't save Callocast or Serifoss. Hadling is dead because of them. Isri doesn't even see them as their sibling anymore. They don't even feel like they're in charge of their own life. They wish they could have as much confidence in themself as Kizlane has, but they don't. They can't. All they can do is swim as hard as they can, even though they know the currents won't let up. Even though they know nothing's on their side. Not time, not luck, not fate. Not even the only blood family they have left.

But they have Kizlane. Kizlane and Mauragan and Sorine, Lilinore and even Tori, though she's been too busy running a kingdom on the brink of war to be very present. They're woefully outnumbered and overpowered, but at least they aren't alone. They'll hold onto that. They have to hold onto that.

They stand with the door to the balcony open for a moment more before letting it swing closed, leaving Kizlane to look out over the city. They know what they have to do. Whatever the Mages are planning, its heart lies at the Magescourt. They have to go back.