Chapter 48 Kaelen
Kaelen
“Neela will take good care of them.” Darian’s eyes are bright. “This is not the end, Kae.”
They’ve gone. Neela and the families in her care had emptied the nursery already when we arrived.
The beds stacked against the wall, toys neatly packed away and the door leading to the tunnels invisible to our eyes.
It had taken Darian several minutes to find it, his fingers running across the stones as we had waited without pushing him, silent witnesses to the grief he’s already locked away.
They have gone, and so there's still hope. It’s enough. And I pray to a god that never listens, just one more time.
Let them find safety.
A home, somewhere new. We’ve given everything we can into a single, narrow chance. But the thought of that empty room still threatens to send me to my knees.
Because it means this is truly the end.
All we can do is give them as much time as we can.
The noise reaches us first. The swelling, chaotic mass of a large group, shouting and talking in a thrum that sweeps over us as we turn to enter the corridor that leads to the great hall.
“Wait.” All three pause. Turn to look at me.
“Just… one minute.” One more, with them.
I trace their faces with my gaze, committing as much as I can to memory.
Eres has forgone his healers’ robes, keeping only his belt of supplies around his waist, and the sight of the familiar worn leather against the darkness of his armor, battling for space with the sword he rarely wears, hits me with a fresh, new stab of pain.
Soft eyes of dark blue crease in understanding, and he steps forward. His lips press to mine. “Together.”
My eyes move to Darian, and I falter. But he only steps forward, pressing his forehead to mine. “A lifetime would never have been enough.”
I still hold regret. I will die with it, and there is nothing I can do to change it. But he falls back to stand beside Eres, and I take a step toward Lyra. My hands cup her face.
She’s contained her hair in a tight, crowned braid wrapped around her head and pinned in place. And as I rake my eyes over her, taking in the sleek, dark uniform, I don’t know whether to shake her or kiss her.
Her hands cover mine. “I made my choice. No regrets, wielder.”
The Lightbringer armor sits in my room, unused and abandoned. My chest aches as I press my lips to hers. Once, and then again, because once was not enough. “It will still be there.”
Until it’s too late for her to fall back.
Darian is right. A lifetime with them would never have been enough.
The hall is as chaotic as I expected. Filled with everyone we have, people call and argue and sit silently, watching the mayhem around them.
This is everyone we have.
And despite the noise that threatens my ears, it's nowhere near enough.
We find Eldritch close to the doors. A handful of soldiers lean in to hear as he talks, his hands moving. Sera is one of them, and she nods at us, her brow furrowed as she listens and her fingers moving over her weapons, checking them with efficient familiarity.
Most here don’t have erevas strong enough to sustain them in battle.
“How many?” I ask Eldritch. “Do we have a final headcount?”
“One hundred and eighty-six.” He surveys the hall. “I sent several of the youths to Neela last night.”
I look around once more, taking in the faces I recognize. My mother isn’t amongst them. “She’s not here.”
I feel curiously flat at the realization. That on this day, the last day, my mother couldn’t find it within herself to stand with us. That she will wait, hidden in her rooms, waiting for the Lightbringer forces to sweep inside and find her.
But Eldritch points. “Over there, lad.”
When I turn my head, he claps my shoulder before moving off, barking at several soldiers who straighten. I do the same, weaving past benches and pushing my way through the crowd.
My mother kneels on the floor close to the wall, her hands tugging at a pair of laces. Tightening them for the soldier who watches her with wide eyes. “There. It shouldn’t come loose now.”
“Your majesty.” He almost stammers it. “Thank you.”
She waves off his thanks, getting to her feet and twisting to look around. When our eyes meet, she stills.
We meet in the middle of the room. She’s wearing Darkwielder leathers. A small, dark circlet rests on her brow; delicate, black-forged onyx, pulsing with faint violet lines. I haven’t seen it since I was a child. “Kaelen.”
“You’re here.” The words are a croak, and her face softens. “Better late than not at all, I thought.”
There isn’t enough time to say everything that needs to be said between us, and soon enough, none of it will matter.
“I’m glad you’re here,” I say roughly. And then I point to the table beside the doors. “They’ll want to hear from you now. Before we leave.”
Our time is running out. Seconds are trickling away like sand in a timing glass, and I can’t hold onto them.
My mother walks with me toward the bench. Her hand lands on my arm. “They don’t need to hear from me today, Kaelen.”
She smiles when I look down. “You are so very much like your father, you know.”
She never mentions him. My breath catches in my throat as she pulls me in, her arms closing around my neck and tightening. The words are a low murmur. “I’ll be on the rampart. I can do more from there. Get the first attack as close as you can.”
My throat grows hot and tight when she lets me go. Nodding, I turn away and climb up onto the bench.
It doesn’t take long to capture their attention. Silence sweeps the hall, staring from those closest to me and moving out in a wave of quiet, until every face is turned my way.
One hundred and eighty-six.
Lyra, Eres and Darian nudge their way to the front of the crowd, Lyra sheltered between the two of them.
Eldritch. Sera. So many faces, and so many missing.
“I have never been prone to long speeches.” I throw my words, pushing them to the back of the room in an attempt for everyone to hear. “And there are more important things right now than the sound of my voice.”
A few hushed chuckles.
“The nursery is gone.” Silence. I stare down at my hands, and back up. “Today, we fight to give them the best chance we can. As much time as we can. And that is a victory that they cannot take from us. Today is not the end, but the start of a new journey.”
Murmured agreement.
“There are no differences between us. Not today.” I scan the crowd.
I see Nythen, his face as pinched as always, but listening.
Valcor, lingering close to Sera. And then I look at Lyra.
“Today, we are all Darkwielders. We will walk onto that field together, and we will hold the line for as long as we can. Until we can hold it no more. For them.”
My voice cracks. “And know… this life, with all of you—it has been my greatest honor.”
They remain silent as I press my right fist over my chest, and lean forward. I hold the position for several seconds, my eyes squeezing closed, before I pull back.
But the tears come anyway.
All of them—every single one—is bowing back.
I swallow them down. Dash a hand over my eyes, and brace myself. “To the field, then. And may Erevan be with us all.”