The Art of Rebellion

Memento Mori

I'm not sure if Drusilla is dead. She's already proven herself a powerful teleported, and is - was, if we're lucky - hailed as the boss's equal. Shadow is tricky and versatile. There's no telling how many of its abilities I've yet to discover. Still, if the Red Queen lives, she's far gone now. I'd be able to sense massive power like hers if she were here.

"Congrats," I say, turning to Corwin. "You're in charge now."

He looks hesitant, then swallows the lump in his throat and responds. "Thank you." I know what he means, just as I know he's not going to get any more specific, or as I know how pointless the gratitude is.

"No need for that. I only saved a powerful ally, nothing more."

He seems to accept that, because he stops glaring at me - something he's rather fond of by now - and looks at En instead. "Are you alright, girl?"

"I ain't a damn baby. Stop treatin' me like one," she snaps, then walks up to me. "Yer friend's in trouble."

I finally remember the blow Mad took, and rush over to where he's lying. He's alive, and not in any grave danger, but the damage is noticeable, to say the least. A few broken bones here and there, and he's also breathing hard. I hover a hand over him, and the shadows get to work, stitching him up and fixing both the internal and external damage. Within moments, he's as good as new, and wakes up immediately.

"What... happened...?" he asks, wiping his forehead clean of sweat.

"Can you stand?" I say, ignoring his question, and he nods, then gets up with my help. "There's no well anywhere near this place, and our HQ is about a day away. Can you take us?"

He nods. "Yeah, 'course, but... what do I do then?"

"You're free to join us," I offer, extending a hand. "It's not like we only accept sorcerers. We need as many fighters as we can get, and your ship's gonna come in handy once the war starts."

"So you're really going through with this, huh?"

I nod, then look at Corwin. "Any message you have for Mr Shimura? It's gonna be up to you two to plan the battle out."

"Our plans relied heavily upon our leader's capabilities," the man replies. "There's also not enough of us to make a big difference. We may have won the battle, but it took its toll nonetheless. The Dead Poets will continue to oppose the forces of Aro, but we will not go to open war."

"What?" I snap. "That's not an option. It took this many of us to take out two fucking council members in Veluga. We didn't even kill anyone actually strong. Either we fight together or we lose. Remember, they know where you live."

He walks up to the throne, then sits down. "They will not risk it. They've lost hundreds of men. If they send any more after us, they leave themselves open for an attack by you people. I will not risk any more Poet lives."

"Then you're condemning us to failure."

"Better that you should be the ones to die than we, who've already suffered." And with that, my composure breaks completely.

"I'm the one who's friend just died," I tell him, taking a step forward. "I'm the one whose family was wiped out by the militia. I'm the one who has to tell his boss the girl he viewed as his daughter is dead." I don't pause - not even to catch my breath. "What do you know about suffering?"

I expect him to feel guilty or humiliated, but he isn't. Instead, he just livid, and his power spikes up to match the output of my own as he rises to his feet again. "I know full well what it means to suffer, boy. Do not assume you're the only one who's lost people dear to you."