11. Malorg #3
The Aspect of Ambition shrugged. “Perhaps not. But they didn’t hesitate to point the finger at us, did they?
As much as you might wish otherwise, coexistence between us has always been and will ever be impossible.
Even the Progenitors recognized that simple truth.
Hence why they forged the Covenant and divided the Immortal Realm between us.
” He shook his head, his bottom lip curling in disgust. “But despite our best efforts to keep those pompous pricks in check, their influence continues to swell.”
Malorg recalled his recent visits to the border and how it had seemed closer than before. “And what if it has? What do you expect me to do about it?” A thought occurred to him, one that sent a ripple of unease through him. “If you intend to reassign me to soul acquisition—”
Pelorak laughed, the sound full and rich.
“Eternal Dark, no. I know better than to put my faith in your powers of persuasion.” His lips quirked.
“Although, judging by what I walked in on, perhaps I underestimate you.” Malorg’s jaw trembled from how tightly he was clenching it.
Pelorak leaned forward, his coal-black eyes gleaming.
“No, it’s not more souls I want from you—it is your unparalleled leadership on the frontline. ”
Malorg blinked, taken aback by the unexpected pivot. “My…leadership?”
“Quite.” Pelorak waved a lazy hand. “I have several plans in the works to boost recruitment, but I need Infernals I can trust to train them how to fight.”
More like Infernals you can control. “Why is the Aspect of Ambition so concerned with our warriors? Shouldn’t that responsibility fall to the Aspect of Wrath?”
Pelorak’s eye twitched as he shifted slightly in his seat.
Malorg must have struck a nerve. A disagreement among the Dusk Council, perhaps?
The Aspects always seemed ensnared in a dozen or more schemes at any given time.
Malorg couldn’t imagine what Pelorak’s ultimate game might be—nor did he care, so long as the Aspect left him and Sarilian out of it.
“Traditionally, yes,” Pelorak conceded. “But the Covenant’s success is every Immortals’ concern, and our new recruits have proven…lacking.”
Malorg snorted. “What do you expect when you send them out with inadequate preparation barely a year after they arrive? Most of them can’t even control their duskflame yet. It’s no wonder the voidspawn cull so many of their number.”
For a split second, rage twisted Pelorak’s fair features into a hateful grimace.
He quickly masked it beneath an approximation of a smirk.
The abrupt shift left Malorg unsettled. “Hence, why I’m here.
I want you to return to your former post overseeing our forces.
I’ve already cleared it with the rest of the council.
You can pick up right where you left off. ”
An image of Uryqh’s charred face flashed before his eyes. He clenched his hands into fists and turned away. “There is no going back, Pelorak. The man I was died on the Blistering Fields that day. Find someone else.”
“Too busy with that new toy of yours, are you?”
Malorg’s shoulders tensed, but he didn’t take the bait, remaining faced away.
After a taut silence, Pelorak sighed. The faint scrape of chair legs announced him rising.
“So be it. I won’t force you to do your duty—our need is not yet so dire.
” His footsteps echoed across the floor, pausing by the door.
“But for what it’s worth, I didn’t come here only for myself.
Venturing out on solo assignments, fooling around with that boy—you’re better than this, Malorg.
And I hope you remember that before it’s too late. ”
Silence marked the Aspect of Ambition’s departure as he slipped out through the shadows as easily as he’d entered.
Malorg remained where he was, rooted in place.
His frozen body felt at odds with his seething thoughts.
Images of Uryqh and Sarilian flickered past, overlaying one another until past and present collided into this singular point, driven by the choices he’d made.
Malorg wasn’t fooled by Pelorak’s seeming dismissal of Sarilian.
No doubt the Aspect of Ambition was already sending out feelers through the city for information on Jafav.
He wouldn’t turn up anything from the fake name, of course, which was both a blessing and a curse.
But if Pelorak dug deeply enough, he’d discover plenty of witnesses to their trips around Twilight.
It wouldn’t be too difficult for him to start piecing things together.
If Malorg cared enough about Sarilian to put his wellbeing first, he’d break things off now before Pelorak had a chance to embed any hooks in him.
Once the Aspect realized how much Sarilian meant to Malorg, the Celestial would become another pawn in his games.
And should he stumble on the full truth of Sarilian’s heritage—well, Malorg had no idea what he might do.
Shame curdled Malorg’s insides as he collapsed onto the pile of pillows, relishing Sarilian’s lingering warmth. He already knew he lacked the strength to do what he should. So long as Sarilian wanted him, he would cling to whatever fleeting touches and contact he could.