Seyari was fast, but I was faste—

How is she still gaining speed?!

My heart swelled at the sight of my now-wife soaring through the skies with all the grace childhood me would expect of an angel. Even if the way she dove was almost more akin to a predatory bird, crimson wings tucked and silver hair billowing.

When we were going straight across the valley, I could keep up, but the moment we hit cross-currents and thermal rises as the land underneath us shifted to jagged elevation changes, I nearly lost her.

Clearly on purpose, as she played in and out of my vision, darting and diving with a fluid agility between peaks and crags, her wingtips kicking up snow from how close she came to touching. Really, it was a little embarrassing that the wrath demon who could walk off a high-speed crash into a rock face showed little temerity

But at the same time… this was so like us wasn’t it? Here, in her element, Seyari was the leader. And I was more than content to follow, watching both her and the landscape below. What a fantastic view!

Trees like matchsticks wrapped in tinsel moved so fast a mortal would only see a blur. I didn’t fear this height. Nor did I fear ending up miles away from a warm hearth buried under mountain snow. We’d make a shelter and I’d heat it.

Seyari and I could hunt, no problem—unfairly even. And I didn’t need food. Or sleep. In another life, perhaps another world, we were easily the villains a band of plucky heroes would rise up and slay.

But for now, in our own story, we were… not quite heroes. I’d fancied myself one, once. For a long time really—and recently, too. Heroes burned bright and died young. They lived on the road, lived for adventure, and had no place in the world when that adventure was done.

When the dragon was slain—or lain, I thought, remembering that awful Atagor book Lilly had—they faded away, their part over. I didn’t want to fade away. Here and now, despite all the hardships, and despite leaving my sister in what had to be an incredibly heady mix of smug satisfaction and intense confusion, despite the looming war—now perhaps two wars—and all the difficulties ahead; despite all that, I was happy.

Really, truly, deeply, happy.

Dhias, I’d killed what, a hundred people, in the last two days? I wouldn’t forget that, but I also didn’t need that to weigh me back down to the ground below. My mistakes, like that old name Seyari once had, are behind us now.

The future starts today.

I’m no hero, but I’ll still try to do the right thing. I just don’t have to martyr myself on my idealism. Doesn’t mean that idealism has to die.

I’d almost caught up to Seyari before I realized she’d stopped. Well, stopped moving forward—she was circling. Something about the pure instinctiveness of our flight kept me from calling out. Like a voice in the still, silent air would shatter this reality.

Once I pulled nearer, my own wings of fire letting me hover, Seyari flicked her hand and summoned a warm gale that lifted us both. With that motion, I noticed now that both her hands were the same—tipped with small golden claws I’d call cute despite her inevitable protestations.

Seyari spoke first, in a voice that didn’t echo. “I don’t care…”

“What?”

“Mordwell—all of that. I don’t care, Renna!” Seyari gained volume, turning to me with a smile that was almost manic. “He’s out here somewhere and I don’t care!” She laughed, loud and hard.

“Sey, are you okay?”

She nodded. “Okay?! I’m better than okay!” She hugged me, wings wrapping around even as I rushed to tuck my own in. “I’m whole again! And not just my wings!”

Despite my worry, I couldn’t help but smile. Her aura looked…different. A crimson ring encircled the edge, but it didn’t penetrate to the center. Not that I really know what any of that could mean.

When I met Seyari’s golden eyes again, they were glowing with aura sight. “Yours is beautiful too, Renna.”

“Thanks… but really—are you okay, Sey?”

She pecked me on the cheek before answering. “Yes! I just… I just don’t really know what to feel. I guess I must seem a little manic, huh?”

I nodded sharply.

Sey giggled and pushed me away to do a twirl with her wings. “I feel young again, Renna! Like I’m not held back anymore! And!” She pointed down toward the south and its imposing, snow-covered mountains. “And I don’t need to care about getting revenge on Mordwell. He doesn’t have a hold over me anymore! He can’t!”

I followed her outstretched finger with my gaze. “But we should still make him face justice. And I’d like to save those we can—Lorelei included—if that’s possible.”

Seyari’s face fell. “We could just elope, Renna! Fly out somewhere into lands unknown and get away from all of this. Start a new life with that house we always wanted and a garden and books to read and a smithy out back for you!”

I gulped—the thought was tempting. But I thought of Taava, Nelys, my sister. And, perhaps most importantly, my daughter—our daughter. “What about Joisse?”

Seyari choked.

“What about our daughter and my sister and all our friends?”

“I… fuck.” Seyari drooped. “Fuck, you’re right. I just… I just want to be done with all this. I’m so full of energy, but when I think of fighting I get so tired.”

This time, I was the one who hugged her, unfairly leveraging four arms against to as I pressed the bases of my horns gently against her forehead. “We’re fighting for that future you just described, but for all of us. You know that.”

“I do, but… but we don’t have to fight for it. We could just take it for ourselves right now and…” she took a shuddering breath. “And doing so would spit in the face of all the help and love we had that got us here.”

“You… I was gonna say something like that. Maybe not as blunt.”

Seyari nodded, then flapped her wings angrily. “I figured as much. Damnit, why can’t we just have a nice relaxing night where our biggest worry is what to make for dinner?”

“Because—” I drew a hand up out of my hug and poked Sey on the end of her nose. “Because we have power, means, and motive to save the world from the machinations of Envy and Styrix.”

“I don’t want to be a hero. I don’t want you to be a her—”

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“I’m not. We’re not.” I smiled, showing twin rows of shark-like sharp teeth. “Did I say we were? We’re gonna save the world, even if that means cracking a few heads and burning a few castles.”

Seyari’s eyes widened, and her cheeks flushed. “Fuck…”

“Sey?”

She shut me up with a kiss. I didn’t get to finish my thought, because a column of wind slammed us down into the snow, me first, hard enough that I heard the rock underneath crack. Sey grabbed hold of my tail and I knew in an instant where things were headed.

Can’t say I was disappointed.

***

In the far distance, outline against the gray sky. Kartania Miller watched as two specks smaller each than a grain of wheat rocketed together from the sky to the ground. Blushing, she cleared her throat, trying to wet her mouth that’d gone dry, and turned to address those assembled.

In the minute or so since Zarenna and Seyari had become swept up in a vortex of magic and Seyari had regrown a pair of crimson angel wings, no one had spoken. After the last “I do,” silence had reigned. In that time, the townsfolk of Astrye had come forward, Keran at the front with an older lupael woman Kartania hadn’t seen before.

Thus, Kartania stood alone in the middle of three factions. She blamed her sister, because it was clearly her fault, but she didn’t begrudge Zarenna for it. They’d put on a show and managed to thoroughly derail whatever it was anyone had been thinking about prior.

Except for one thing. Zarenna and Seyari were married now, and that meant Kartania had a new sister… and a niece. Both of which were a lot in the moment.

Finally finding her tongue in the dry mass that was her mouth, Kartania spoke in a raspy voice that gained strength with each word. “You heard them, and their vows. We all did, and I think we might’ve seen those vows.” Kartania coughed into one gauntleted hand, chill metal near her lips a reminder of just what had been—was still—at stake. “With Dhias as witness, and myself as arbiter, I declare Zarenna and Seyari Miller to be wed.”

Surprising herself, Kartania slipped into a quick, half-whispered prayer to Dhias. Partly out of tradition to finish the ceremony, but also out of a real curiosity and an old, hard comfort. When her words faded, there was but a brief silence.

“You’ve made a demon and an outsider our leader,” the woman next to Keran spoke. Her voice had a slight rasp to it, but it was loud, and it carried. The royal guard tensed

“By King Carvalon’s decree,” the representative answered. “Are you not citizens of Astrye, which is a territory of the Kingdom of Edath?”

“All are citizens,” she answered, sparing a glance at Keran and then back again. “Not all are of Edath.”

“If you live in Astrye, you are subject to King Carvalon,” the representative answered stiffly.

“Only so far as the length the kingdom is willing to go for us. We have been without your governance for ten winters as of this year. And before that, the fat tick in the castle was worse than nothing. We are fine on our own.”

“Do you mean to speak against the king?”

“Does the king punish the truth?”

Kartania looked between them, ready to step in. And thankful that the mutterings of the Church forces were staying, for now, nothing more than a susurration in the background.

The representative thought for a moment. “The king punishes disobedience.”

“Of his subjects.”

“Who are you to presume such questions?”

The woman gave a shallow bow. “I am Nadya, and I speak for those of us who have come to live in Astrye this past generation. Those of us who are deciding, right now, our future in this land.”

“If you do not respect his majesty’s decision, you are free to leave to the south, beyond our territory.” The representative’s words were spoken with more ice than remained on the ground.

“To chase in the footsteps of the man who nearly killed us all in a vile ritual?” Nadya spat, her gray-furred ears twitching angrily. “To leave the safety of the valley during winter when most our food has already been stolen from us?”

“Or you accept the authority of Marchioness Zarenna Miller as vested in her by King Carvalon.”

Nadya barked a harsh laugh. “This is not about her authority. I am no fool.” She turned to the assembled crowd of townsfolk, and Kartania could now see a division between them, largely along human and lupael lines. “We are no fools. The demon, Zarenna Miller, saved us all and has the power to protect us should those who escaped her wrath return.” The old lupael turned again to the representative. “What you must earn from us, is your king’s authority.”

The man balked, and Kartania bit her tongue. Citizen of Edath or no, she was representing the Empire so far as everyone else was concerned. And they weren’t particularly wrong.

“You!” he said, and the guards tensed. “Do you really think you can go against a demon of the marchioness’s power?”

Nadya shook her head. “No. Of course not.”

Next to her, silent until now, Keran broke his silence with a vicious smile. “I think you should be asking that question, sir.”

“Enough.” Kartania stepped in. “Astrye is a territory of Edath, and as such is subject to few crown regulations, am I correct?”

Frowning, the representative nodded.

“So long as taxes are paid, and in the event of a war, the levy is gathered, do you need further control?”

“No.”

“And in the aftermath of an event such as this, is it not fair to exempt Astrye from both for the next year, to rebuild destroyed fields and refill food stores?”

“That is not my decision to make.”

“Whose is it?”

“King Carvalon’s, ultimately.”

“Tell him then, that, as a representative for my sister, the Marchioness of Astrye, we formally request those exemptions for the reason I have just given. The matter of the loyalty of our own citizens is something for the marchioness to handle, yes?”

Nadya frowned, giving Kartania a cold glare, but she said nothing.

The representative heaved a sigh. “Fine. Good luck, then. I can see where I am not wanted, and I shall leave you shortly. There is a writ of duty the Marchioness must receive. May I trust you to deliver it?”

“You may.”

“Very well then.” The representative glared at Nadya. “That will be all.”

“Have a safe journey home,” the lupael woman offered with little sincerity, then took several quick steps over near the Church forces. “And you all as well. I will bite my tongue and give you the courtesy of a civil retreat.”

Priest Cedric looked at the assembled group, and at the Church forces, still ready for a fight. Then he looked at High Priest Grants’ body on the ground. Kartania knew what was about to come.

“Would he want blood shed like this?” She gestured to the high priest’s corpse. “He was wrong about Zarenna, and it killed him, and you know it. Had he been willing to listen and understand all that went on here, we’d all be celebrating tonight, and he and my sister would doubtless have traded stories beside a warm hearth.

“Give up. Go back and give a report. Lie on it if you dare. But if you start a slaughter here, you might win now, but you will not make it over the pass.

“Kill innocents here—and you know we are not under some impossibly complex entrancement—and none of you will live to see the next morning. And without your return, you will start a war. You’ve seen what my sister can do—and I think we all just saw her get stronger. King Carvalon will side with her. Can Ordia’s remaining unity really survive another bloody civil war—regardless of the suffering it’ll cause? Can the Church of Dhias as we know it survive such an event?

“If you’ve any dignity. Any sense of duty to the oaths you have taken… go. Leave and report exactly what happened here and may we all pray to Dhias the cooler heads will prevail. My sister has said there’s a war coming between two factions of demons. And you can guess the side she’s not on—I’m not on—is a lot less cordial. We shouldn’t fight each other. Not now.”

Kartania took a deep breath and swallowed, feeling her heart hammering away in her chest. She’d already done it—made her choice to side with her demonic sister and forsake her career—but that speech made it real.

Priest Cedric looked at her, glanced at Nadya and the retreating representative, and slumped. “You’re right,” he said through gritted teeth. “There’s a lot we clearly don’t know about demons. I will find out what is going on, I will find the truth. And if this is all a ruse and you’re hurting those you claim to help… you will beg for the mercy of a swift end.”

Kartania nodded. “Of course.”

Cedric sighed. “Take High Priest Grants’s body. We’re leaving.”

The few murmurs of dissent quickly died out, and with haste, the Church forces retreated. Kartania slumped in relief, only to feel a slim arm wrap around her shoulder. Next to her, Nadya was suddenly pulled close as well.

“What a show!” Taava gushed. “I’ve already got six—no eight—eleven song ideas. But right now—” the kazzel pushed forward and the sudden motion caused Kartania to spin around on her heel in the slick mud. “—What do we do next?”

Kartania found herself facing an unfamiliar crowd of hundreds of people. She took a breath to steady herself, wound her emotions into a familiar box, and addressed the crowd.

***

On a snowy trail in a hidden valley to the south, a wagon rumbled along. Inside the wagon, under clothing and bedding, a wooden box was tucked away snugly. Inside that box was an orb of glass containing a single feather that pointed unerringly to the north, even as the box moved and bumped along the wild track that was hardly more than an animal path. Then, without warning or preamble, the feather twitched and stopped. Moments later, it fell to the bottom of the glass, already crumbling to dust.