Chapter Forty-Eight #3
“I don’t know if he’s still in there,” she says, voice steady. “I don’t know if you can reach him.”
They all know who she means. The shift is immediate. Different tension now. Sharper. More personal.
All eyes turn to Elyssara.
She doesn’t hesitate.
“I can.”
No doubt. No pause. Just certainty.
Marin studies her. “And if you can’t?” The words are quieter, more dangerous. “I need to know you won’t hesitate.” She pauses for a single moment. Then, “I will not sacrifice my people for one man. I don’t care who he is.”
Her words land harder than anything before it.
Elyssara doesn’t look away.
“I won’t let it come to that.”
Marin’s jaw tightens. “That’s not what I asked.” The air sharpens. “I said: what happens if you can’t reach him?” she sounds out every syllable.
And the inference is clear: will you kill him?
Elyssara does not move, but every muscle in her body goes tense. Coiling tight like an animal about to attack. She schools her features into neutrality.
“If you’re asking me to kill my Starbound—”
“I’m asking you to sacrifice yourself and your Starbound,” Marin cuts her off. “It’s two people or the realms, Elyssara.”
Silence detonates. It explodes across the room so completely that it becomes absolute.
“I will not kill him,” Elyssara snarls, every word penetrating the silence like a blade through flesh.
“I’ll do it.”
Teddy. The words don’t cut. They settle. Final.
All eyes drift to him, landing on him with shock.
“I’m the sword of Zerynthia,” he says, stepping forward, gaze fixed somewhere beyond all of them. “I swore an oath. It is my duty.”
A pause.
“If the choice is between him and the realms…”
His jaw flexes. And in that moment, everyone knows that Teddy is a man of his word. He will follow through, if for no other reason than because he said he would.
“It has to be me.”
Silence crashes back in. Heavier. Because that wasn’t strategy. That was truth.
Seren goes still.
Rubi doesn’t move.
Even Vren says nothing.
Because there is nothing to argue with.
“You will not touch him, Therion,” Elyssara croaks, teeth bared.
He moves closer, closing the gap with steady steps. “Come on. You know him, El. You know he would not want to live if it meant leveling cities, wiping out entire populations. Hurting you.”
Tears rim her eyes—unable to hold them back.
“He’s still in there,” she murmurs, desperation still clinging to her every word.
“And if he is, we’ll give you every chance to reach him. But if he’s not, El…” he trails off.
Elyssara and Teddy stay locked in a silent stare, a thousand words of love for a man they may never reach passing between them.
“You’ll kill him,” she breathes, and the words sound like acceptance. “And me.”
Teddy nods once.
“I’ll never forgive you,” Elyssara murmurs, reaching for Teddy’s hands like they’re a life raft as she drifts in the wide-open sea.
“I’ll never forgive myself,” he agrees, and his self-loathing is clear.
Seren moves to Teddy’s side, but he only shakes his head. Her hand stills mid-air, like a love letter never sent. Hurt flashes across her face, deep and old and unmistakable.
Ronyn exhales softly through his nose, looking around the room for support.
His eyes land on Rubi, but her face is calm, centered.
“I used to be able to count on you for chaotic contributions, Rubes. I’m not sure that the sobriety is an upgrade,” he grouses, though it earns a couple of awkward laughs.
She shrugs, a wry smile lifting her lips.
“…Gods,” Ronyn mutters.
A few heads turn. He drags a hand over his mouth, glancing between them.
“Well,” he says mildly, “that’s one way to kill the mood.”
Teddy huffs a laugh, forced as it may be. “You really are fucking insufferable,” he groans.
Thank the gods. Conversation. Something he can work with.
“Careful, Teddy… you might actually have a good time if you’re not busy volunteering to execute your friends.”
It lands. Dark. Precise. And exactly what the room needs. Laughter fills the space—like the only thing they can still laugh about is the inevitability of death.
Teddy huffs—almost a laugh breaking through despite himself. And just like that, the tension shifts. Not gone. Never gone. But… loosened. Enough.
Voices start again. Low at first. Then louder. The scrape of boots, the clink of metal, the quiet exchange of flasks passed between hands. Not unity, and certainly not peace, but something close enough to stand on.
Ronyn lets it happen. Lets them fall into it. Because that’s all this ever was. Temporary. Fragile. Enough.
Even Calira no longer looks ready to slit everyone’s throats on sight. Ronyn decides to count that as progress.
His gaze drifts to the only place he’s been dying to reach.
He finds her.
Jax.
Still apart. Still untouched by whatever just shifted in the rest of them. Like she’s already somewhere else.
His jaw ticks once.
There you are.
He pushes off the wall.
“Try not to kill each other,” he mutters as he moves past Teddy.
Teddy snorts. “No promises.”
Ronyn doesn’t look back.
“At least wait until I’m done so I can start taking bets.”
A few quiet reactions follow him. But he’s not listening anymore.
Because all he sees is her.