23. Sarilian
twenty-three
Sarilian
The void lord burst from the ground like a monstrous worm, its mandibles clicking as it charged Sarilian. Thankfully, he was ready.
Channeling his dawnflame, he soared upward on blazing wings of light. Flickering flames seared the void lord’s lashing tentacles, holding them at bay long enough for him to evade its snapping jaws. A savage grin split his face. This was going to work!
His brief flash of triumph swiftly dissolved into dismay when he saw the void lord hadn’t given up its pursuit. Its questing maw stretched higher than he’d imagined possible, rings of fangs gnashing mere paces below his feet.
A familiar pair of slate-gray eyes flickered across his memories, urging him on, and he tensed his jaw, forcing every last drop of dawnflame he could into propelling himself still further.
He expelled a relieved breath when the serpentine void lord beneath him began its descent back to the plains below.
Before it could turn to re-burrow and continue its constant harassment of their forces, he hurled his readied spear of light.
It streaked through the air like a lightning bolt straight into the worm’s waiting gullet.
A soft curse escaped him when the dawnflame erupted too soon.
His strike hadn’t gone deep enough to finish the void lord in a single blow.
Instead, the creature let out a sanity-rending shriek as it crashed back to earth, undulating on the ground while foul wisps of purple voidflame leaked from its mouth and the exit wound his spear had left in its side.
Sarilian descended to the silver dirt, watching with bated breath as more Celestial warriors swarmed the downed beast, stabbing it until it bristled with golden spears like a pincushion.
The void lord released one final wail that clawed at his mind before it collapsed, melting away into the violet nothingness from which it had emerged.
“Nice shot!” Laurent, one of his squadmates, called, raising a fist in salute.
Sarilian frowned, conjuring a new spear. “Not nice enough. I missed.”
Laurent’s grin faltered, and Sarilian felt a slight stab of remorse as the Celestial joined the frontline reforming nearby.
He made a mental note to apologize later.
Laurent didn’t deserve the anger Sarilian had had simmering beneath the surface ever since the Accords abruptly ended several weeks earlier.
Truth be told, he wasn’t sure who did. Pelorak, certainly, along with the Dusk Council and any other Infernals behind their insidious scheme to prey upon the Dawn Council’s charity and good will.
It had broken something in Sarilian, confessing what Malorg had told him to Darius upon his return to Daybreak. Watching the Aspect of Justice’s expression shutter while his face contorted with the quiet fury of betrayal and knowing that every other Celestial would soon feel the same
In one fell swoop, the Infernals had destroyed any hope of collaborating to fight against the Void. The divide between them seemed starker than ever.
Though Sarilian had merely been the messenger, he couldn’t help but feel partially responsible.
After all, he’d been the one to volunteer as Dawn Emissary and extend a hand in friendship, the one pushing Darius to trust in the process and not abandon the Accords.
Now, it was him forced to crawl back to the Dawnlands with his tail between his legs.
As for Malorg…
Desperate to drown out any thoughts of the Infernal, Sarilian hurled himself back into the fight. This was one of the larger gates the Dawnlands had faced in a while, and he relished the chance to do something—to know without a doubt that he was making a difference.
But even as he held the line with his fellow Celestials, slaughtering scores of lesser voidspawn, Malorg’s words echoed around his skull. The futility of the fight. The inevitability of their loss. The unending approach of the Void, everyone powerless to stop it.
Misery squeezed in around him, slowly suffocating his hope. He’d thought his duty to protect the Mortal Realm everything, the Covenant his reason for existing.
Yet even as he fought and bled and killed for it, all he could think of was Malorg’s rare smile—the flash of his gray-black eyes and the icy press of his lips. His firm hands grasping needily for Sarilian as if he was the most precious thing in the entirety of Allaria.
Maybe Malorg was right all along—maybe the Covenant is a sham.
With the void lord dead, the Celestial forces slaughtered the remaining voidspawn with relative ease until the gate finally closed.
In the past, Sarilian would have gladly joined the hunt for voidspawn survivors, eager to prove himself and honor his purpose.
Now, the thought of staying out here any longer than necessary bowed his back with bone-deep exhaustion.
He caught the closest dawnbeam back to Daybreak, eager to collapse in his quarters and rest.
Is this the same weariness I glimpsed in Malorg when we first met? The same sense of hopelessness that weighed him down and drove him to consider giving up?
The thought petrified him. What if this broken piece of him was beyond repair? He’d already lost Malorg. Without his duty, he truly would have nothing.
“I hear you’re the hero of the hour.”
Darius’ gruff voice startled Sarilian from his melancholy, and he looked up to find his mentor standing in the entrance to his chambers.
For the briefest moment, Sarilian considered claiming the need to rest and sending him away.
Had it been anyone else, he likely would have.
But he owed the Aspect too much to shrug him off like that.
“Sir,” Sarilian said, snapping to attention. When Darius gestured for him to be at ease, he resumed his seat and beckoned for the Aspect to join him. “I didn’t do anything that another couldn’t have done just as easily.”
Darius settled into the chair across from him. “And yet, no one else did.” He squinted, giving Sarilian an assessing look. “I’ve told you before, there is nothing wrong with accepting well-earned praise. Even the Aspect of Humility herself would not fault you.”
I’ve earned nothing. “Forgive me,” he said, bowing his head. “I’m weary after the fight, and my tiredness has left me in an ill mood.”
“So I see.” Darius raised an eyebrow. “Though, I’m not sure it’s fair to blame your foul mood on your recent excursions when it has persisted for weeks.”
Sarilian bit back the retort that leaped to his tongue. Like Laurent, Darius was not his enemy—merely an innocent caught in the crossfire of his malcontent. “Is there a reason for your visit today?” he asked, straining to keep his voice polite.
He must have only partially succeeded because Darius barked a laugh, his eyes twinkling.
“My point exactly. You sound like you want to hack my head off. You haven’t been yourself since we ended the Accords.
Nothing that happened is your fault—you know that, right?
It’s the Infernals who violated our trust and attempted to take advantage of our kindness. ”
Though the words echoed Sarilian’s earlier thoughts, they did little to soothe his guilt. “Perhaps. But their deception was only possible thanks to my naivety.”
Darius inclined his head. “As you say. Yet, you cannot hold yourself responsible for the moral failings of others. The Infernals have earned their reputation as liars and manipulators. Let this be a painful lesson: hope is a powerful tool, so much so that we acknowledge it as one of our driving tenets. But Hope alone isn’t always enough.
Humility, Sacrifice, Serenity, and Justice must also guide your hand if you wish to forge a brighter future.
The Accords, while a noble endeavor, always had a slim chance of success. ”
Fresh remorse twisted Sarilian’s gut. “You’re saying it’s okay I failed because everyone expected me to anyway?”
“Not at all. I’m saying that, no matter what you did, it would have taken a miracle to convince anyone to accept revisions to the Covenant…the Dawn Council included.”
Darius’ admission rubbed Sarilian the wrong way, causing indignation to prickle his skin.
“If the Dawn Council never believed in my mission, then why did they approve it?” Darius shifted in his seat, appearing mildly uncomfortable, and the missing pieces of the puzzle snapped into place.
“The Accords were just as much a charade for you as they were for the Infernals.”
Darius frowned, his lips drawing together into a thin line.
“That’s not fair. Had the Infernals treated with us in good faith, then the Dawn Council would have welcomed peace.
But we have dealt with Infernal trickery enough by now to remain pragmatic.
Their kind would rather backstab one another into oblivion than make concessions for the greater good. ”
Shock widened Sarilian’s gaze as he stared at Darius.
Merciful Light, Malorg was right to despair.
“That’s precisely the sort of narrow-minded thinking that divided the original Immortals and brought us to the brink of annihilation!
We should be striving to follow in Malorg’s footsteps and unite our peoples so that we can focus on our true enemy. ”
“The Dusk Emissary is hardly innocent in all this,” Darius replied with a snort. “He’s been the Dusk Council’s puppet since the beginning.”
“Without his knowledge!”
Darius shrugged. “So he claims.”
Sarilian thought of his last visit to Malorg’s apartment—of how right everything had felt in Malorg’s arms…and of how utterly it had fallen apart soon after. At the time, Sarilian hadn’t known what to think about Malorg’s confession, the Infernal’s partial betrayal stinging. Now, however…
He tightened his jaw. “Malorg is the one who warned us about Pelorak’s scheme. Had he not, we’d still be playing right into the Aspect of Ambition’s hands.”