Chapter 23
The garden would have made a beautiful refuge—a place where the carefully cultivated peace could ease even the most troubled mind.
The first time I’d seen it, I’d studied it carefully.
Livia had told me how much she loved this garden, and I still had a dream that one day I’d get her away from all the pain and death and build her a beautiful home.
I knew now that home would need a garden as peaceful as this one.
Ancient olive trees cast dappled shadows across stone benches and winding paths, while the scent of jasmine and rosemary hung heavy in the warm afternoon air.
Birds called to each other from hidden perches, and somewhere nearby, water trickled over smooth stones in one of the ornamental fountains.
Today none of it brought me comfort.
Taveth sat with his back against the massive trunk of an old oak, its gnarled roots forming natural seats in the earth around it.
Livia was settled between his legs, leaning back against his chest, her dark hair spilling over his shoulder.
His arms were wrapped around her waist, holding her close, and I could see some of the tension ease from his features whenever she shifted against him.
The sight should have warmed me. The woman I loved, finding solace in another's touch despite everything they were facing.
Instead, it filled me with a cold dread that I couldn't shake.
It wasn't jealousy, not really, though none of us could get near Livia when Taveth was around and we were all missing her.
I knew Livia's presence calmed the shadows that plagued him—we'd all seen the evidence of it countless times.
But I also knew how quickly those shadows could turn violent, how little warning there might be before Taveth lost control completely.
The memory of finding them in her chambers, of seeing the marks on her throat, made my hands clench into fists.
She was too close. Too trusting. And he was too dangerous, no matter how much he loved her.
"The Emperor's planning something beyond just entertainment," Antonius was saying.
He sat cross-legged on the grass nearby, scrolls and notes scattered around him like he was preparing for one of his lectures.
"A public massacre of Talfen prisoners, broadcast across the Empire - it's about demonstrating absolute power. "
I watched Taveth's jaw clench at Antonius's words, his arms tightening protectively around Livia. Even from where I sat on one of the stone benches, I could see the way shadows seemed to flicker beneath his skin in response to his anger. The sight made my stomach twist with familiar dread.
"How many prisoners?" Tarshi asked quietly. He was seated on the ground near his brother, close enough to help if the darkness became too much to bear alone. The strain of sharing Taveth's burden was written in the lines around his eyes, the way he held himself as if every muscle ached.
"Hundreds," Septimus answered grimly. He stood with his back against another tree, his protective instincts keeping him positioned where he could watch all the approaches to our makeshift council.
"From what our scouts reported, they've been gathering Talfen from across the conquered territories.
Men, women, children—it doesn't matter."
“Not hundreds, thousands,” said Jalend grimly.
“How do you know that?” asked Livia.
“I saw them, before we left for the battle,” Jalend answered her, his face deepening in colour. Lying to her was really tearing him apart. He’d been very quiet the last few weeks, and I knew it was eating at him, at lying to her and fear of what she would do when she found out.
Livia frowned and looked like she was going to ask more, so I jumped in, cutting her off.
"It's more than just a demonstration," I said quickly. "He's trying to break their people's spirit before the invasion. Make them believe they have no hope. Incapacitate them with grief."
Taveth's voice was quiet when he spoke, but I could hear the darkness threading through it even in the garden's peaceful setting. "He wants us to know that we're nothing more than animals to be slaughtered for sport."
I watched his hands tighten around Livia's waist, saw the way shadows flickered at his fingertips despite her calming presence. The rage was always there now, just beneath the surface, waiting for any excuse to break free.
"The revelation about the cure changes everything, though," Septimus said from where he sat with Tarshi. "If there's really a way to break the shadow magic..."
"Then we lose our only advantage against the Empire," Taveth finished grimly. "Many dragons are already enslaved, many of those still free have been killed in the battles raging across the borders. Without shadow magic, we're just another conquered people waiting to be destroyed.”
The silence that followed his words was heavy with implications none of us wanted to acknowledge.
I found myself studying the faces around our small circle, seeing the same realization dawn on each of them.
We were discussing the potential extinction of everything that made the Talfen people capable of resisting the Empire.
"There has to be another way," Livia said, her voice carrying a determination that would have been admirable if it weren't so naive. "Some solution that doesn't require choosing between Taveth's life and our people's freedom."
I wanted to share her optimism, truly I did. But I'd seen too much of war, too much of what the Empire did to conquered people. It had perfected the art of cultural destruction long before they'd discovered dragon shifters or shadow magic. They knew exactly how to break a people's will to resist.
"The invasion is already underway," I pointed out, hating the harshness in my own voice. "Even if we found a way to preserve both Taveth and the shadow magic, we're running out of time. The Emperor isn't waiting for us to solve our internal problems."
Taveth's laugh was bitter, edged with something that made my skin crawl. "Internal problems. Is that what we're calling it now?" The shadows around him darkened perceptibly. "The slow dissolution of my sanity is just an inconvenience to be managed?"
"That's not what I meant…" I started, but he cut me off.
"It's exactly what you meant." His pale eyes fixed on me with an intensity that made every instinct scream danger. "You think I don't know what I've become? You think I don't feel every moment of sanity slipping away?"
I forced myself to meet his gaze, even as the shadows writhing beneath his skin made my stomach clench with dread. "I think you're in pain, and I think we're all trying to help you through it."
"Help me?" The darkness in his voice was unmistakable now, that alien quality that meant the thing wearing Taveth's face wasn't entirely him anymore. "You want to help me, Marcus? Then stop pretending this is some problem we can solve with careful planning and good intentions."
Livia shifted against him, her hand moving to cover his where it rested against her stomach. I watched the gesture. She was trying to anchor him, to pull him back from whatever edge he was sliding toward. But I could see the tension in her shoulders, feel the fear she was trying so hard to hide.
"The cure isn't theoretical anymore," I said, keeping my voice as steady as I could manage. "Aytara showed us the source. We know what needs to be done."
"Do we?" Taveth's smile was cold, predatory. "Because from where I'm sitting, it sounds like you're all debating whether my life is worth the cost of saving our people."
"That's not… we’re just trying to find solutions, Taveth.”
"Are you?" The question came out like a challenge, shadows writhing around him more violently now. "Because from where I sit, it seems like you're all just waiting for me to either die or become so dangerous that you have no choice but to kill me."
The accuracy of his observation hit me like a physical blow. Because wasn't that exactly what I'd been thinking? Wasn't I already calculating how many of us it would take to subdue him if he turned completely? How we might protect Livia if the darkness consumed him entirely?
"The ritual Aytara described," I said carefully, not wanting to push too hard but needing to voice what we were all thinking. "If Taveth could actually complete it, if he could draw all the shadow magic into himself and destroy it..." I trailed off, unable to finish the thought.
“I could free those imprisoned by the Empire, and free those trapped by their own minds,” Taveth said. “We might not have any more shadow mages, but the Empire would no longer have their dragons either. We might still have a chance.”
Septimus leaned forward, unable to keep the frustration from his voice. "And if you attempt the ritual and fail, you become like your father. Chained in the depths, completely mad, a danger to everyone."
"I know what happened to my father," Taveth replied, and there was something cold in his voice that made my blood run chill. "But I'm stronger than he was. I've always been stronger."
"Stronger?" Septimus stood up, and started to pace, his frustration evident.
"You're talking about deliberately exposing yourself to the same force that drove him completely insane.
Taveth, you're stronger than your father ever was.
If the crystal consumes you during the attempt, if you lose control completely.
.." He ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath.
"You could level this entire mountain. Kill everyone in the temple, in the valley below. The destruction would be catastrophic."
Livia twisted in his arms to look at him, and I saw her face go pale as she processed what I was saying. "Septimus is right," she whispered. "If you're that powerful, and the darkness takes you completely..."
"We'd have to kill you," I said bluntly, hating myself for the words but knowing they needed to be spoken.