The Shattered Circle

36. Awakening in the Ashes

I don't remember falling, only the world breaking. I remember the echoes of the words, the shock of it, the pain inside and reflected back, and worst of all, the moment she let go. And then...sunlight, bright and burning, pouring down unhidden. I didn't know if it was real.

Aleyr... My lips moved, but no sound came. Why would it? Whatever love screamed inside me was trapped there, suffocated into muteness. I could not forgive myself for that silence, even if I wasn't certain I should forgive her either. I was still reeling, trying to make sense of the senseless.

Panic erupted around me, I know that, screams and shouts that seemed miles away but were probably right there. But as cold closed around my heart, soothing it to still, I saw vaulted ceilings of white marble and prayed for a reversal, a waking from nightmare, to see the eyes full of a love unnamed and the faintest hint of a hope unrealized.

My heart stopped, Death sweeping away my breath as a soundless sob. My hand still quivering, seeking, dropped.

An ending. How she wanted an ending. Perhaps I should have been grateful to be offered what she felt she could not have. It was the only mercy she trusted that she understood, or so it seemed from my angle.

Shira, you don't know what you're promising.

Aleyr, no one ever does, but the choice is mine to make.

But I was not done, nor the world done with me.

"You are fortunate," a female voice murmured gently in the darkness, soft and sweet, light as a feather with the little flourishes of Suzail's native accent adding music to her tone. "I can name no other who has faced that monster and survived."

I opened my eyes, mind fogged and the taste of a pain draught on my lips. My fingers, my body, they felt as easily moved as solid lead. I couldn't even turn my head, only blink slowly to bring the room into focus as awareness crept in. Blankets, bandages, warmth, sunlight, sweet incense, the quiet of an infirmary.

"It could be a ploy," a rough voice male voice growled, a Rusan inflection making the snap familiar. "A trap."

"Knight Commander, I imagine a threat was much more the intent. A body of an innocent left laying in the heart of a sanctum of Light never before breached is...not subtle. And the King in Black's Beloved is quite legendary for the lengths she will go to for hate."

The  man's chair creaked as he rose,  aggravated. "Then explain that...that..." He huffed. "Gods damn it, Eavan."

"My job is to save lives, and I have done so, Knight Commander. Go pester the Rose Knights if you wish an explanation of such matters."

I turned my head, dull and slow, willing my eyes to focus. Slowly the blurs and shifting settled: bright, kind eyes of elven emerald in a narrow, angular face. Her silver hair was loose except for a small braid threaded with a soft blue ribbon of grief, but it was the pendant that sparked an ache in my heart. Delicate, carved with such care from red oak, a holy symbol of Ishal.

She smiled gently. "You are safe."

Behind her stood one of Erelim's justicars, a grim-faced human veteran in gleaming armor. The scar on his cheek puckered when he scowled. "Are we, Eavan? Who knows what spiritual contamination—"

"Ishal is also a goddess of protection, Knight Commander. If you do not trust my Lady to shelter you, perhaps you have chosen poor company."

He growled. "She will be guarded."

The elven woman glanced up at him. "How generous of you to offer your protection. What a swift change of heart."

"As a prisoner, Eavan." His voice rasped under the weight of his irritation.