Chapter 24 #2
He’s not wrong. Ellie would understand my decision to stay here and protect my people.
She’s seen enough of what the Authority does to grasp the stakes.
But understanding doesn’t make the choice less agonizing.
The bond between us carries not just her emotions, but the echo of her presence, the knowledge that part of my soul exists wherever she is.
Choosing to stay here feels like choosing to cut away part of myself.
“You can’t hold yourself responsible for everyone we’ve lost.”
“Every person who dies because of choices I make become part of my debt. The blacksmith, the fighters who fell at Glassfall Gap rescuing me, everyone who fought while I was imprisoned. Each death adds to the weight of what I owe.”
“But you can’t carry all of that and still function as a leader.”
“Can’t I?” Leadership has always meant accepting responsibility for consequences. “Someone has to remember what these choices cost.”
“And you’ve decided that someone is you.”
“Isn’t that what being the Vareth’el means? Carrying the weight so others can remain free of it?”
Varam watches me with the patience of someone who has waited through years of my internal struggles.
His presence grounds me in ways that few things can.
He’s the closest thing to family I have left, the one person whose loyalty has never wavered, despite countless opportunities for betrayal or abandonment.
More than that, he’s the one person who truly understands the burden of command, the isolation that comes with making decisions that determine who lives and who dies.
How many times has he watched me struggle with decisions that have no clean solutions, where every path forward demands sacrifices?
“Is that how you see Ellie? As debt you have to repay?”
“No.” I don’t even need to think about my answer. “She’s essential.”
Essential. The word doesn’t capture what she’s become, or the way her absence creates a hollow ache that no amount of duty or purpose can fill completely.
She’s essential like needing air to breathe, like the steady beat of my heart, like the way blood needs to pump through my veins.
She’s become part of my structure, and removing her would require rebuilding myself from nothing.
I laugh, the sound startling me with its bitterness. “The terrible irony is that staying here requires choices that could cost me the woman who has become everything to me.”
“Or it might require you trusting that she’s strong enough to handle her own challenges while you handle yours.”
The bond carries traces of that strength.
Even across the distance, I can feel the core of steel that runs through her, the refusal to break under pressure.
It’s one of the things I admire most about her, and one of the things that fills me with dread when I imagine her facing overwhelming odds alone.
All my experience with strategy and tactics, all my knowledge of the Authority’s methods and weaknesses, all my understanding of how to survive in hostile territory—none of it will help Ellie if I can’t reach her.
“You’re afraid.” Varam’s words carry the faintest hint of surprise.
“Terrified.” I lift my head to meet his gaze. “Not of the Authority or Sereven. Not of war or death, or any of the things that should frighten me. But of losing her. Of failing to protect the one person who sees me as something other than a weapon to be aimed at enemies.”
A shout from the square interrupts our conversation. Exchanging glances, we hurry out of the forge. Several villagers are gathered around a woman who is pointing toward the western mountains.
“Smoke.” She spins to face me. “Thick columns of it, coming from the direction of Millhaven.”
Millhaven. A farming settlement half a day’s ride from here. Another village the convoy passed through on their journey to deliver me to Blackvault.
“It could be anything. An accident, or—” someone else says.
The woman who spotted the smoke shakes her head. “There’s too much for it to be a contained fire.”
“How many soldiers would it take to burn a village that size?” One of the men voices the question in a low voice.
“It depends on whether they met resistance,” Varam replies. “It could be a dozen. It could be fifty.”
The villagers exchange worried glances, and several look toward the places where Stonehaven families have found shelter.
The fear in their eyes is familiar—the same expression I’ve seen on countless faces over the years when faced with Authority soldiers.
The knowledge that safety is always temporary, and that protection is never guaranteed.
“What do we do?” Erya, the village leader arrives, making her way through the crowd and coming to a stop in front of me. Her voice carries the expectations of the entire village. They’re looking to me for answers, for reassurance, for the kind of leadership that will turn fear into purpose.
“First, we need to confirm what has happened. I’ll send scouts to investigate.”
“And if it was the Authority?”
“Then we prepare to defend Greenvale. For now, gather up the children and go back to your homes.”
Varam catches my eye over the dispersing crowd. His expression carries understanding and regret in equal measure. He knows what this means as well as I do.
The choice has been made for me. I can’t abandon Greenvale now. These people have committed themselves to protecting Stonehaven’s families, and that commitment demands protection in return.
Even if it costs me everything.