Grief
They would all die.
Caeliri pressed the heel of her hand against her eye until colors popped and swirled in the darkness, but it did not stave off the tidal waves of tears that came rushing to her lashline. Her palm caught a wealth of the salty torrent, but the tears came spilling back down the slope of her scarred hand and slid down her cheeks with the same inevitability as the one her family faced.
They would all die.
Her grip tightened on the Archon’s letter until her whole arm quivered like a sapling in a storm, and her knuckles went white as blood pooled at her fingertips.
He was right.
She knew it, deep down in her heart, and though there was still some spark of defiance that wailed within her, grasping at threads of possibility that were flimsy and quickly fraying beneath the weight of reality, Caeliri could not foster that guttering hope, nor feed it into the inferno it wished to be.
He was right.
She had hoped Telchis would meet her heartfelt pleas with fury, the burning remnants of the rage the Ranger-Captain and his wayward party had stoked in the man, but he had not, and his firm but gentle truth had cut her more deeply than his anger ever could have.
He was right; some part of her had known that from the start, that the Archon would never turn his back on a potential ally, would never extend a fist when he could offer an open palm. Not unless there was no other option. Not unless his hand was forced. Telchis Truefeather was a man of honor, of justice, of idealism similar - if not more world-weary and hardened - to her own. Were he anything less, she never would have sworn her life to him, not just as a soldier of the Sunguard, but as a Kin’tari of the Dawnspire.
He was right, and the words he’d penned danced before her eyes; ‘This Kingdom Reborn is nothing more than a lie. A lie to turn the hearts of people like you against their own people.’
He was right, and they would push their assault on Sunstrider Isle and Sunsail Anchorage.
‘They will make you see a dream of a world where all people can be reunited into a single elven whole. … I assure you Dame Dawnsworn, no righteous king will rule with the threats of murder, deceit.’
He was right, and they would all die.
Ithranicus. Cere’thien. Vaelrin.
What was left of her family was being ripped to ribbons once more, and this time… she did not know if she could survive the grief of losing all of them. This time, she knew their fates were sealed. They had drowned Thane Mountainbeard, sacrificed him to the Bloodied Squall’s violent, hungry god, and no matter how honorable the Alliance was, they would not allow the barbarity the Sunguard displayed to go unanswered.
Ithranicus. Cere’thien. Vaelrin.
Their names were stones in her stomach, churning and clashing, causing bile to rise in her belly and burn at the back of her throat.
They would all die, and she wouldn’t even get to say goodbye.
@forever-afk | @jonathan-nevermore-smith | @lissanaria | @felthier | @thesunguardmg
