A metallic creak echoed around Dorothea, bouncing across the walls of stone. The cell next to hers had opened, and a soldier she didn’t know dragged out an unresponsive form from it.
Gren. His wounds had been cauterized with fire. Black flakes of skin drifted down as he was heaved up the stairs. He’d been stripped down to his undergarments, body now adorned in gouges, slashes, and blistering burns. His body was being made to bear the brunt of Sacer’s rage.
A cry reached her from upstairs, evolving into many voices yelling, cursing, and the crash of a heavy object hitting the floor. Then came the sounds of a body being battered, kicked and punched and thrown about. Wet, desperate gasps and coughs reached her just like screams would.
This was all her fault. She understood now why Gren hadn’t fought back against Cerid at the border. Because she’d been there, he had restrained himself to not scare her off while waiting for her answer. And now they were here.
Hoping that everyone would come to agree with her version of what was right had been nothing but arrogance. They already had their convictions; she was an interloper, valuable only for her magic. That was the only reason she was alive. It would be fine if it was just her, but Gren had been roped in, and he was going to be killed.
Gren wasn’t brought back down until things had gotten quiet. He was tossed back into his cell, and the silence afterwards was horrific. She waited and waited and waited until she heard him stirring, but words died in her throat. Why would he want to hear anything she had to say? What good would her words do him now?
He let out a series of choking coughs, and she heard something splatter on the floor. Then a painful breath, and he rasped, “Hello? Are you okay? Are you…here?” He sounded increasingly uncertain and scared as he continued.
Not surprising herself, she immediately started crying. “I’m so sorry, this is all my fault, I’m so sorry for everything, and now you’re—”
“You’re not responsible for the choices I made or the things I failed to do.”
How was she supposed to respond to such kind words of comfort that she didn’t deserve? All she could think of were more apologies, but those had already worn thin.
“How are you so calm?” She asked, whimpering over her words. “They’re going to kill you!”
“Yes. I’ll become an example. Public execution, I bet.”
The Sacerians would relish the one blamed for the war being destroyed before their eyes. And they would make it as painful as possible. “It’s not right…”
“But it’s what’s happening, so I need you to listen to me. You still have value to them, so you need to stop worrying about me and focus on how you can convince them to let you go.”
“What…?”
“I’m going to die. If you have a chance to get out of this alone, you should take it.”
“How can I just—”
“Dying for the sake of honor or pity towards me is a waste.”
But what was the point of going forward without purpose? “You know… When Iree attacked us, I thought that it would be better for you to live instead of me.”
He was shocked, sucking in a faint breath in response to her words.
“You reached out to me, but I only got in the way of your goals. You have the stronger will… You’re stronger in every way, and you should have been able to keep fighting. I’m sorry.” She closed her eyes and relaxed her body, giving in to the irresistible, dark flow of surrender.
It was okay to stop now. She had at least tried to follow her conscience. Ghuria, Sacer and Sirpo would someday become relics of the past. Like Ariana said, nothing mattered. Long after whatever world this war created changed into a new one, more people would hate and kill each other.
“Hey. If that’s your choice, then…” Gren’s voice was softer, hesitant. “Will you keep talking to me? Just for a little while.”
She was kept tethered by this merest thread. Yes, she could at least do this much for him after all the chances he’d given her and how hard he’d tried. “Of course…”
He was quiet for a while. “Tell me a story?”
Think of something, anything. “Once… Once upon a time…” In the depths of her heart, she found a story her mother had recited countless times. “A sapphire star fell to the ground. The waves its impact created resounded so strongly that the oceans were formed. The star remained rooted, crystallized at the bottom of the sea in a crater. Shocked so much by its landing, the star lost all memory of its former life. However, those who had been left behind still remembered.
“In particular, the sapphire star was loved by a ruby moon. In order to follow the star, the moon asked the friends of it and the star to knock it from the sky. The moon was battered and scarred when it fell, and it crumbled. Its floating pieces becoming land once it met the ocean. The moon, like the star, had lost its memories. Their friends in the sky, knowing that they too would forget if they tried to follow and help, watched and prayed for a miracle every day.
“But it never came. The star and the moon stayed as they were, sourcing the land and sea forever, content. They made new ties and loves. Eventually, their old friends bade them farewell, accepting that they had to find new happiness without the moon and star. And so it remains and ends, the eternal closeness and separation of two beings once united.” She paused. “Is the ending happy or sad? What do you think?”
“It’s happy,” Gren said after thinking. “They’re all fine in the end. They move on.”
“Yes. I thought it was sad when I was a child, but as I got older I realized that they all just had to go through life naturally, losing things and getting past their grief.”
“It’s a good story. Thank you.” The silence he fell into scared her. Now that it was just the two of them here, she wouldn't have known what to do without him.
“Gren?” She heard him crawling and realized that he had come to press against the wall between them, putting them as close as they could be.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
It took him a long time to utter words that were small and devoid of hope. “Did I manage to make up for what I did? Even a little?”
Because this was reassurance for his sake, she managed to hold back her tears. “Yes,” she whispered, then repeated louder, “Yes. You did your best to find your way. The hand you reached out to me, the words you used when you didn’t have to, they made me try to find the truth. You made me look beyond myself and try to be a better person. Even if we didn’t end up doing what we wanted to, you… You put a little bit of goodness in the world. I think we can call that atonement enough.”
Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.
He laughed, a short peal of mixed joy and sorrow. “Thank you.”
“No… Thank you. For everything.” There was a strange sense of peace flowing through her, washing away the despair. He was here with her. She wasn’t alone.
“I’ll tell you a story too, if that’s okay.” His words were coming easier now. Like her, he was finding what small semblance of peace he could in their shared acceptance of the end.
“Of course.”
His breathing was strained. “After I’m gone, no one else will remember them. So if you’d carry them with you for as long as you can, I’d appreciate it.”
“Yes. Whatever you need.”
He cleared his throat painfully. “My mother and father were named Mishmi and Erell. My older sister was Grella, and my little sister was Fir.”
“Mishmi, Erell, Grella, and Fir,” Dorothea repeated.
“Yeah.” A sob choked him, but he coughed to shake it off. “One time, Fir and I tracked mud in right after Dad, Erell I mean, had finished cleaning the floor, and…”
He told her mundane stories of his childhood, abandoning any sense of guardedness or pretense. They both did. They weren’t enemies or murderers, naive or worldly or cruel or kind, just themselves and what words they could offer one another.
They talked the entire night through. She told him about Shark and Cerid and Rhys, about her mother and how her hatred had turned into love throughout the journey she’d taken here in the lands below her cold mountain home. He talked about his family until she felt like she’d met them and would never forget these little bits of their souls. Their former dreams and old pastimes, all the stupid and fun things they’d done before all this had started.
Despite knowing someone would come eventually, they both froze at the sound of footsteps an hour before dawn. It was Ariana, and Dorothea didn’t have it in her to feel anything but pity.
“Dorothea…” Ariana dropped to a crouch in front of her cell, head bowed and body shaking. “I really thought I’d abandoned everything. I wanted to drown in my self-hatred and forget the rest of the world because that would be easier.”
“It’s okay, Ariana. I understand.” She was doing the same thing, after all.
“They’re going to breed you. Starting today.”
Dorothea’s body reacted as if she had physically been punched in the gut, and she released a strangled cry. She couldn’t comprehend it anymore, how people could be so sick and evil towards each other. She heard Gren start screaming and throwing himself against the bars of his cell.
“I know I don’t have the right to ask…” Ariana slid to the floor, putting her forehead and hands against it. “Please save Pearlie. Please protect her. Please… Save Ghuria.”
“We already tried, Ariana… It’s useless. You said it yourself,” Dorothea said numbly.
“I was wrong!” Ariana cried. “I was wrong, and I was afraid! It… It’s hard to let go of your hatred. It’s hard to admit that the things you can’t take back are wrong. But that doesn’t mean we stop trying after failing once! We can’t quit on kindness after only being rejected one time!” She looked up at Dorothea with a desperate face. “Right? Isn’t that the kind of thing you’d normally say?”
“I…” She was right. A kindness or a determination that could be defeated by a single failure wasn't worthy of respect at all. She was honor-bound to take this second chance now that it was being offered. But she wasn’t strong enough to do it alone. “Hey, Gren?” she asked, feeling a new thread of possibility unravelling around them. “Ready to give this another shot?”
His breathing was hard, his voice firm. “With all that I am.”
“Okay. You’ve got it, Ariana. I’ll keep fighting.” Just one more time. Even she could manage to stand up and go forth one more time, only because she wasn’t alone. This was for others.
Ariana let out a harsh laugh. “It’s good you still managed to keep some spirit in you… You’ll need it.” She stood before cutting through both cells. “Things have come full circle, huh?” she noted quietly as Dorothea rushed past her to get to Gren.
He opened his mouth, but whatever he’d been about to say was replaced by a gasp as she fell to her knees and embraced him, arms winding tightly around his back. Her magic poured through his body, healing his wounds and restoring his stolen limbs. Once they were there, his arms constricted her so tightly she almost couldn’t breathe.
When they drew back, they both blinked at each other in surprise. It was as if they were facing entirely new people. Something new linked them now, born from their shared experience here.
After pulling her to her feet, he looked to her wounded arm. It radiated pain, but there was nothing to do for it just now. “We need to hurry. I’ll tend to you as soon as I can,” he said quietly, glancing at Ariana to show he understood Dorothea still had business with her.
“Ariana…” Dorothea held her hand out. “Come with us.”
She shook her head slowly. “No, I…” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “It’s the letter from Sharee. Take it as proof and go.”
“You don’t have to be punished,” Dorothea insisted as she secured the page in her dress pocket.
Still shaking her head, Ariana backed away. “I can’t. I’m sorry.” The hope in her present when she’d pleaded for Dorothea to find her will again was gone, replaced by the same exhausted resignation from before. “I don’t have a place there. Just…go while you still have the chance.”
Dorothea didn’t have the luxury of trying to grasp at ways to convince her when there was so much to do before their enemies came for them. “I’ll show you,” she said quickly. “Your home will be waiting for you.” Even as she said it, she knew she wasn’t the one Ariana wanted and needed to hear these words from.
“Just… Protect Pearlie. Protect Pearlie.” Ariana showed no signs of moving.
Making a snap decision, Dorothea turned to repair the bars of the cells and heal Ariana’s freshly cut hand, regretfully leaving the severed arm untouched for the ruse. At least this way the proof wouldn’t be so obvious even if Iree might still suspect Ariana. “I’ll do it if you run,” she insisted. “If you promise to put effort into living. Between now and the time we come back for you, find something to live for and give it your all. If you turn around and run up those steps, I’ll swear to protect your sister with my life.”
Ariana hesitated. “But I just…”
“Go!” Dorothea pushed her. “This is a promise between us now, so… S-So don’t you dare go breaking it!” Gods, she was going to cry yet again. She’d never been so terrified in her life.
Her show of weakness actually seemed to put Ariana at ease. “Okay. I’ll try.” She put her hand on Dorothea’s arm, nodded at Gren, then disappeared into the shadows of the staircase.
Dorothea’s knees immediately buckled, and Gren caught her against him with a look of concern. “Sorry,” she laughed. “It’s been an…interesting few days, no?” She looked towards the floor below them and straightened up. “Gren, I know we need to hurry, but—”
“This is something you have to do. I understand.” He positioned himself against the wall, hidden from the view of anyone who might come. “I’ll keep watch.”
“Thank you.” She rushed down the stairs, finding Rhys awake and pacing the floor. His haggardness was disturbingly stark beneath the overly bright lights, but his eyes lit up when he saw her.
“Dorothea?!” He gasped and stumbled back when she threw her arms around him to heal him in the same way she had Gren.
“I’ll explain everything later. We need to go.” She turned and rushed a few steps before realizing he wasn’t following her. “Rhys?”
“I can’t do it anymore,” he said quietly. “Not even for you. I’m sorry.”
She smiled gently. “I’m not asking you to fight with me. You don’t have to fight anymore. Please come with me, because I want to help you. We’re going to make a place for you. I swear.”
He hesitated, meeting her eyes. “You’ve done so much for me, you’re still doing and promising more, and I haven’t done a thing to repay you. I should be fighting by your side at every moment. I should…” He stopped as Dorothea laughed. “What?”
“That’s just the thing, Rhys. You’ll never, ever owe me anything. A life where you’re free to be happy, heal, and live for yourself is all I could possibly want.”
“Dorothea, I…” He took a breath and smiled weakly. “I know we’re probably short on time, but there’s one last thing I need to tell you so you understand.”
“Yes. Anything.”
This moment was what would decide everything for Rhys Tamlin.