The sense of déjà vu that seized Ariana upon crossing the border floated somewhere between intense discomfort and bitter longing. She was here, facing off with a familiar opponent and partner alike. It was her and Shark against Pearlie and Johanna, and she knew who would win.

“No mercy,” she whispered to both herself and Shark, and they nodded. They created branches from the pillar they had raised them both on to get a better vantage point, easing them closer through the opponents’ defenses with each one.

Pearlie wasn’t calling any of her animals in. She gripped her blade and watched Ariana, waiting for the moment they would mert to finally decide where Ariana’s path would take them. She and Shark dodged needles that would have brought them crashing down, and then they were directly above their enemies.

Enemies. Not her sister, not her compatriots. This was the only way it could be. Shut everything down, push it out, and seal fate.

“Ariana!” Shark yelled, their urging giving her the horrid strength to follow through.

Balancing on one last thin block that formed a diagonal bridge, she rushed towards them. Ariana’s swords met Petunia’s; the force and velocity were so intense that the impact jolted up Ariana’s arms. Petunia, her trembling legs unable to support her against the pressure of the attack, fell onto her back. Ariana jumped off of her platform and straight onto the closeby Johanna. Hands closed on her forearms in a feeble attempt to fight back, but she wrenched free and slashed Johanna’s throat with a quick swipe.

Pearlie’s screech of despair resounded in waves throughout Ariana’s body as she rolled off of the corpse. Pearlie had risen to her knees but showed no other signs of moving, not even as Ariana touched her blade to the side of her neck, drawing a delicate trail of blood.

“Big sister,” she pleaded in a sob, words choking off as Ariana separated her head from her body.

It was over.

Shark dropped down to her side, brushing off. A hand came up to her cheek, and she saw a clear drop perched on their pointer finger when it came away.

Ariana almost laughed, but if she made a sound now, she’d start sobbing. In no way did she deserve to cry. She was supposed to feel nothing. Everything was decided, and she was secure in her choice.

“Ariana!” A voice called out from deep in her memory, and rushing, blending into one another as they did so, parts of her came back.

A baby’s fingers grasping hers. Her newborn sister. Such tiny nails, such a weak grip. Pearlie’s laugh was the most infectious, precious sound she’d ever heard.

Watching with a close eye as she crawled, eventually took her first tottering steps. Anything there she could hurt herself on?

Pearlie yelping, arms and legs flailing as Ariana yanked a comb through her hair, tiny blue curls floating to the floor.

How her giggles would give her place away during hide and seek but Ariana would let her win anyways, feigning ignorance.

The woods, their favorite place. A brook surrounded by bird nests, the song of nature blending into perfect harmony. The way Pearlie chatted with the birds for hours, finding a new world of her own that Ariana could only marvel at.

Meeting Johanna Marley in raider training, how quickly Pearlie took to her. Friends of friends could become friends too.

Those wonderful, peaceful days.

The Bittersweet Nightshade tragedy, then war. Too many orphaned, the Kingfisher family reduced. Ariana’s decision to put her own survival above all else. Pearlie’s screams and sobs as Ariana tried to convince her to leave everything behind. The younger sibling would defend her parents’ graves and their broken homeland to her last breath.

Stealing away that same night. The stars were aching, and the earth seemed to crack beneath her feet as she crossed the border into Sacer.

Iree Nobelis. A walking brand of fire, the consuming beacon of hope. To find the life she promised, Ariana was willing to follow her as deep and dark as they needed to go.

But had that fire actually been the one to consume Ghuria in the first place? Had everything been a lie in the end?

Why was she fighting? What was the point in any of this anymore? Wasn’t the peace and happiness she had thought she might find at the war’s end nothing but a delusion?

The smile and laughter she had once been willing to do anything for… She’d lost sight of it. Why had such a world been created? She wanted to live so badly, but no matter where she went or what she did, the suffering wouldn’t stop. These pictures wouldn’t stop playing.

Pearlie was dead at her feet. This was what she’d wanted, and this was going to be the story.

“I should have stayed and died with her,” she realized aloud.

Shark touched her shoulder, and she jumped away. They looked solemn and pitying, and she couldn’t muster the energy to be indignant about it like usual. “The sooner we get this done, the sooner you can get somewhere private to grieve. Come on. Just a little more.”

“I’m not…” she rasped. Not grieving? She wasn’t fooling anyone, not even herself anymore. But Shark was right; she had to keep it together. “Don’t let your guard down. We don’t know what’s on the other side of these walls,” she said roughly.

“Right.” They paused. “If you feel like you didn’t make the right choice, then… Maybe you can try to take it back.” Before she could rip into them for saying something so ridiculous, they’d rushed off.

As if she had the right to apologize or regret anymore. There were some deeds a heart couldn’t turn back from.

*

Dorothea grabbed onto Cadby’s shoulders. “Don’t be scared!” she pleaded.

“I wasn’t until you said that.” He looked past her at Gren. “Who might your friend be?”

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Now that she thought of it, very few people in Sacer would actually know what Gren looked like. No wonder Cadby wasn’t panicking like she’d been sure he would.

“Cadby,” she began carefully, “I want to ask you about something you mentioned to me before. Please tell me everything you can think of. And…” She hated to add this, but she couldn’t fully trust him. “If you ever treasured any of the time you spent with my mother, you’ll offer your utmost sincerity.” She could hardly breathe after throwing the words out, and she took a gulp of air before asking, begging, “Do you know anything about how the epidemic really happened?”

His puzzled expression fell into a deep sadness that seemed to sink into every line of his face. “Yes. Yes, I’ve known all this time.”

A disbelieving sickness flipped her stomach. “Was there ever any issue with your memory?”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry, dear. Even so close to the end of my life, it’s hard to admit my wrongdoings.”

Dorothea barely held back her anger. “What happened?”

“My word doesn’t matter. What you really want is proof, right?” He smiled sadly under her glare. “Go to the commander’s office. There’s a letter that will explain what happened. Addressed to young Miss Iree from her mother, Sharee.”

Dorothea backed away from him. Still, how mad could she really be? She’d been just as apathetic not so long ago. “Quickly then, to Iree’s office.” She started to walk away but stopped when she realized Gren wasn’t following.

He was staring at Cadby. “Why?”

Cadby’s eyes widened. “Are you…?”

“Why would anyone want that to happen? Why did they make me do it?”

Cadby closed his eyes as if welcoming whatever might come. “I am so sorry, young man.”

Dorothea rushed over to take Gren’s hand; he jumped, attention snapping to her. “Gren,” she said gently, “we have to hurry. Please.”

He let out a soft breath. “Okay.”

There were some instances, Dorothea realized, where words wouldn’t help at all. There was nothing Cadby could have possibly said in that moment to make things better, and nothing she said would take away the pain of the past either.

She locked the door of Iree’s office and propped chairs against it for good measure, then went about tearing through her desk. She glanced over every document even if it didn’t match the specifics that Cadby had mentioned. Gren double-checked each piece of paper she discarded, a faraway look in his eyes.

After she had Gren force open a hidden locked compartment in one of the drawers, she found it. The paper was worn, tears along its creases showing how many times it had been reread. The envelope, tucked beneath the letter, bore Iree’s name in lovely script.

Dorothea handed it to Gren first, acknowledging this as a moment more monumental to him than she could understand.

“Dear Iree,” he read aloud, voice rough, “I know you’re going to be very confused, but above all I want you to remember how much I love you. Please understand that we’re doing this for a very important reason. Cinder, the man who’s taking you with him the day I carry out my mission to make sure you don’t get hurt, will explain everything to you, but I can say without a doubt that what we’re doing is for the greater good.

“We were given magic to serve a purpose. No matter what, we have to make use of it for our people. Remember that having power isn’t about gaining anything for yourself or becoming a hero. It’s about defending the people who need you. You, Rhys, and children like you, I believe that you need me and my power right now. There’s something I can do to save you from the kind of people war forces you to become, so I’ll do it.

“I know it’s going to be hard without your mom, but everything is going to be okay. Just be kind to Rhys. Take care of him and keep him by your side so he’s safe. Cinder and I are going to make a world without suffering. How could I say no to giving that world to my children?

“You’re going to do great things, Iree. I’m so proud of your hard work and your burning spirit. Please forgive me for leaving you too soon. Never forget I love you. Your Mother, Sharee Ambre Nobelis.”

Gren clutched the paper like he wanted to rip it apart, but in the end he put it on the floor and hung his head. Dorothea touched his arm in a small gesture of comfort while her mind raced. She now knew without a shadow of doubt that the epidemic had been planned by Cinder Creed with the help of Iree’s mother, Sharee Nobelis. The only question left was how they had been able to force Gren's hand.

“What do you want to do now?” she asked.

He was completely silent; she couldn’t even hear his breath. But his chest rose and fell as if he was breathing deeply, and he finally spoke up in voice little above a whisper. “I knew the whole time. I knew this was what it had to be. How can I let this stand when I’m so close?”

It was true. Cinder was in this very house. If she were in Gren’s shoes, she would want to find him and kill him. But because she wasn’t Gren, she could say what needed to be said.

“We have to end the cycle of war. I don’t think peace will ever be real until we can say that, for once, we reached out to each other with understanding. You have a right to your anger, and I won’t hold anything you choose to do against you. But Ghuria as a whole won’t be benefited if you take revenge right now. Cinder will eventually receive the punishment he deserves, but he’s one of the few people who can confirm the truth right now. The same goes for Iree.”

He nodded, relaxing his gritted teeth. “You’re right. Okay…”

“Gren, I…” Once more, there was nothing she could say. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pressing her forehead into his hair. I’m here, she communicated to him through touch. “Whatever you decide, I’ll be right behind you.”

He’d stiffened at first, but now he relaxed, holding onto her arm loosely. “Dorothea Atlin,” he said quietly. “You are…” He turned his head, and the tips of their noses touched. Then he pushed his cheek to hers as if seeking further solace from the simple act of touching and being touched. Dorothea remained perfectly still as he breathed slow and deep. Had anyone comforted him, all this time?

Gren gently extricated himself after a few minutes. “Thank you.”

Dorothea smiled. “What’s the plan?”

He paused. “Hm. Can you take us back to—”

His words were brought to an abrupt halt as the door was kicked and then blasted apart with a great crash of fire from outside.

Dorothea jumped to her feet, standing in front of Gren with her arms spread out in protection. This combined with the fact that she waited for Iree to enter the room to try talking to her before anything else was what sealed her fate.

“Iree—” Was all she was able to say before a sharp pain spiked in her shoulder. She was too shocked to cry out; Iree had driven a blade into her shoulder and driven her back for that blade to be embedded in the blackboard behind her, pinning Dorothea there.

“You!” Iree addressed Gren, who had rolled out of the way and was poised to attack, crouched low. Iree had one of Dorothea’s wrists pinned with one hand and was squeezing her neck in the other. “Don’t for one second think I won’t kill her.”

“Guh…!” Dorothea tried to say his name, but Iree’s grip tightened to the point where it felt like her throat might be crushed. Instead she met Gren’s eyes, managed the best smile she could, and closed her eyes as a sign of acceptance. If only one of them could live, it was better for it to be him. Wherever his will ended up directing him, he had the right to go forward and address what had been done.

She waited for the moment of her death, but it never came. He’d…surrendered? For her sake?

“Kingfisher, hurry up,” Iree ordered, and Dorothea’s eyes snapped open.

Ariana wouldn’t look at her, but Dorothea couldn’t take her eyes off the swordswoman in part because one of her swords was gone. Her left hand was missing, arm ending in a charred stump.

Dorothea forced her gaze to lower to the blade Iree had pierced her shoulder with. A hand was attached to the end of it, scattering droplets of blood as it flopped about.

The pressure on her neck was increasing. Even as she tried to reach out to help Gren as Ariana removed both his arms with an unhesitant slash from her remaining arm, her vision was going black. The last thing she saw was blood spreading beneath him as he went still, stiller…