Till the End of Time

Chapter 9 - Sparking the Raging Fire

The sounds of hoof beats are welcomed change of pace from the pitying silence that has followed me like a lost puppy. The rhythmic sounds almost drowning out the voices and noises of those around me. No time to waste, no time to wait and certainly no more time to breathe. When will this ever end?

Slowly but surely, my Carmel brown horse no longer canters along the well-worn path and diverts to a more secretive route. Beyond the trees and the heavily grown under bush are hidden wonders, so many feel regret for never taking the path. I say otherwise, I feel no remorse for those who turn away from our haven. They'll never need a place here; they never would even think about a small place like this.

To them, this is pointless but still here it is, Partas Lipax. Thriving on secrets and growing by the second, emerald sheets of plant matter hide them from the sky. Woven branches form a canopy that light can barely pierce through. Bright flames captured in cooled melted sand, colours dancing with the fire. Several trees open into rooms filled with people all chatting. Nothing connecting them beside a pin and jewellery. None of them were made from normal metals, after all what binds them doesn't need to be obvious. Makes it easier for one to blend in with the crowd.

The warmth and icy chills drift over from the etherealki's area which had been dubbed the Ethereal's corner. Tidemakers and Squallers chase each other in circles, turning boiling water to ice that could have come from the permafrost up north. Inferni throw arcs of fire up into the air and draw them back in, away from the leaves. Such a welcoming group of people they had created, something that they never had to constantly check in on.

"Hey Aithera! You daydreaming again?" Leila calls, pulling me from my thoughts, firmly planting me in the current flow of time. I chuckle as I watch her slip off her horse to bound in front of mine. I sharply pull the reins, but Sepia is well used to Leila leaping front of her, s topping before I even thought to do anything.

"Can I not admire the landscape we've created? My apologies, but I do believe we are due for a speech now?" I inquire playfully, Leila's face immediately darkens. She looks at me as if I just handed her a death threat and she was standing at the gates to the afterlife.

"Saints, no! That's your job. No way am I doing that. You have fun with your saints forsaken speech. Bye!" she hastily yells before sprinting off to Casting Laboratory. The Casting Laboratory is what the Materialki had called their tree space. She had always loved learning more about the dangerous chemicals they had discovered. She had taken a liking to poison, maybe because it was similar to how she used her abilities. Oh saints, I'm doing this solo.

Despite being the founder of this place, I still attract many stares as if I were someone new. Maybe because it is commonly known that I had gone to the little palace with Alina Starkov. They thought maybe we would have come to a consensus, but we hadn't. She didn't know this existed. I watch as the cliques of Grisha part to form a path to the stage. Some of the only things in the glen that resembles normal furniture.

The stiff silence has staged its own perfect return as it gives me time to think. To go over everything that's happened and to make a speech that'll rally them behind our cause. Just a bit of carefully chosen word play and a bit of persuasion should do the trick. I slide off Sepia as if she was as slippery as butter and steadily climb up on to the wooden platform. Time to be the leader that Alina strives to be, the one I should be.

"My fellow Grisha, I'm sure you've heard that Os Alta has been captured by the darkling. He won't stop there though, I'm sorry that we've lost the battle, but we won't lose this war! He may have destroyed the second army, but he hasn't gotten rid of us!" I announce, "So why am I here? Why am I not fighting with the others, you may ask but I need your assistance again. I'm sorry I must drag you back into the fighting. Will you come back one last time? Can you pick up your arms to fight? This is a losing battle without you, and we are the last of our kind. We are among few, no one else will be willing to fight again so I turn to you my fellow comrades. You know how terrible he is and how the horrors he committed are indescribable. Please, I make this plea as a friend not as your leader. I will not force you because I ask and hope you will."