Chapter 66 Sariel
SARIEL
S ariel trudged away from the wreckage that felt wrong to call a city. Isabelle was limp against him, awake just enough to aid in walking as they crossed the yellow expanse of grass to the mountains beyond.
Behind him, Racliffe squirmed and sighed like a beast well fed.
Don’t look back , Sariel thought as they traveled. And don’t you dare look at the sky.
Sariel need not search hard to find the hidden path upward.
He more carried than guided Isabelle along the rocks, needing only twice to leap over little gaps and crevices.
Perhaps it was nostalgia that brought him here, perhaps a twisted sense of irony, but after half an hour of hard climbing, he arrived at the flattened clearing halfway up the Sapphire Mountains and laid Isabelle down in the shade of the lonely red oak, remembering how Eder had been propped in similar fashion the night the Rebellion of the Broken had ended the Anaon Kingdom.
Back then, the night had been deep and the stars bright, when Sariel knelt humbled before his siblings and swore his vows.
None were with him now. Eder lay beheaded atop the Tower Majestic.
Aylah was wounded and had fled somewhere unknown amid the mad city.
He could only guess where Calluna lurked during all this, and no one had spoken with Eist in decades. And of course…
“Faron,” he whispered, and slumped to the dirt. “Why, brother? Did you always wish to leave us? Was this everything you wanted?”
He was too tired for tears, but the sorrow still ached in his breast. The sight haunted him.
Faron’s empty eyes. The color drained from his body.
The way he resembled not himself, not the ever-living bodies that would recover from any injury, but a hollow shell.
A dead thing. Real death. True death. Sariel’s throat tightened.
He would never speak with Faron again, never laugh with him, never chide him for his kindness or his attachment to his mortal lovers.
He struck the ground. This loss. This suffering, it was never meant for them. They were never meant to say goodbye and weep over pyres lamenting the lost. That… that misery was for humanity, and humanity alone.
“Not us,” he whispered, and it seemed he was wrong. There were still tears left in him to fall. “Never us. Faron. Please. Faron. Why?”
At last, he looked to the east.
To his relief, not all of the protectorate’s army had perished in the aftermath of the sky’s opening.
It seemed a third had managed to retreat beyond Racliffe’s walls, through such heroics as he could not begin to imagine.
They fled west, toward Nature’s Path, and Sariel wondered if he should rejoin them. They would want their queen, after all…
Sariel glanced at Isabelle, still groggy and empty-minded as she slumped against the trunk of the red oak. She was not fit to lead this crisis. Bringing her in such a state might only worsen their morale. Not that much morale remained, he suspected. Not after today’s cursed events.
At last, he willed himself to look upon Racliffe.
A cloud of smoke hovered over the White City, adding to the strange discolored haze that emanated from the radiant fire.
Said fire still burned fierce, and even as he watched, it continued its steady progress outward, swallowing the edges of the city as well as portions of the grass beyond.
The more Sariel watched, the more he saw.
Strange beings crawling across the rooftops.
Six-winged creatures hovered in circles above the spires.
Much of the city was no longer white. Some portions were covered in vines, some turned brown like stripped bark, and others sparkled silver and gold, blinding to look upon in the midday sun.
The ache of its light was nothing compared to the sickly, shimmering gold that swallowed everything if he dared allow his eyes to bear witness with blessed vision.
The entire city blazed with the hue of uncontrolled radiance.
And all that paled compared to the gaping hole in the sky.
Just looking upon it made Sariel’s stomach twist and threaten to vomit.
Even its dark center, seemingly black, felt like an illusion, as if it were composed of so many colors his eyes could not see any of them.
The outer rings burned red, gold, and violet, rolling outward in waves that faded like smoke.
Though it made not a sound, Sariel swore he could hear it burning.
Once Kaus is made pure, we shall join him and be together in Father’s paradise.
Sariel shook his head.
“If this is the paradise you sought, I want no part of it, Eder.”
A sharp intake of air stole Sariel’s attention. Isabelle sat up, her arms curling about her legs and her head leaning forward. Her eyes were as wide as saucers, the whites deeply bloodshot. And then she screamed.
Sariel held her as she thrashed. He endured her scratches, and he whispered as if all were well.
“Shush, Isabelle. You are safe now. Listen to me. Listen. You are safe with me. Isabelle… Isabelle…”
The woman suddenly froze, her entire body stiff. It seemed to take her enormous effort to force out the next three words.
“I’m… not… Isabelle.”
Sariel released her, and she scurried away from him like a frightened animal. Her movements were unsteady, and she stumbled onto her side, sliding across the hard ground and scratching herself on the loose rock. As she bled, she glared at him with her golden eyes.
“Leliel,” she said. “My name… is Leliel.”
Sariel slowly stood, his every movement carefully controlled lest he startle her like an alerted deer.
“No, it is not.”
The body of Isabelle frantically looked over her shoulder to the east. Her gaze fell upon Racliffe, and the instant she saw the gaping hole in the sky, she let out a horrified shriek and recoiled from it, crawling on her hands and knees to the nearby tree.
“No,” she moaned, and pressed her spine against the bark and held her arms over her head like a frightened child. Her entire body quivered. Her fingernails dug so hard into her skin, she drew blood.
“No, no, no, no no no no no no.”
She rocked back and forth, beginning a new horrified mantra. Her words slid like poison into Sariel’s mind as Racliffe burned and the sky wept radiance like tears from a lidless eye.
“We are seen. We are seen. We are seen. ”