Page 8 of The Immortal Covenant

Surprised by his own brazenness, Sarilian shoved the thought aside. Merciful Light, Darius was right to worry about him. One run-in with an Infernal, and he was already contemplating shirking his responsibilities. He had plenty enough to occupy him, especially now that he’d been cleared for field duty. Better to channel his restlessness toward fending off the Void.

Sarilian nodded to himself as he assumed his spot within the gathered ranks, waiting to march to the dawnbeam waypoint that would transport them back to Daybreak. Yes, that’s precisely what he would do. And if hehappenedto run into a certain Infernal again while performing his duty, well…no one could fault him for that, could they?

The next few months were among Sarilian’s busiest since his arrival in the Dawnlands. Between training and fighting, he hardly had a free moment to himself. There’d been no battles on the scale of his first gate, only standard incursions with a few dozen voidspawn at most. Still, Sarilian signed up for every detail along the outskirts he could.

Many of his fellow soldiers praised his initiative and courage. Even the most stalwart Celestial warriors rarely took on so many assignments without a break, and there was already talk of how he might someday embody the Dawn Virtue of Sacrifice or perhaps even Justice. Darius hadn’t raised his concerns again, likely believing his warning had been heeded.

But no matter how many voidspawn he slayed or battles he won, Sarilian couldn’t get Malorg out of his mind. It didn’t make any Light-blinded sense! He was fulfilling his soul’s purpose in the Immortal Realm. He had earned the respect of his peers. He lived surrounded by the pristine beauty of the Dawnlands’ perfect silver fields and Daybreak’s gilded spires. Yet despite everything, Malorg’s pallid face and darkened scowl haunted him whenever he closed his eyes.

Something about the Infernal called to Sarilian. Perhaps it had been his blunt pessimism, so unlike the mix of cheerful friendliness and brusque professionalism common among Sarilian’s own people. Or perhaps it was the blatant contradiction between his words and actions.

I will fight until my last breath, Malorg had told him.But when my end finally comes, I will welcome it with open arms.The Infernal might have thought he believed his words, but something in Malorg’s expression and demeanor made Sarilian question their sincerity. If anything, he suspected that Malorgwas searching for a reason to go on. That hewantedsomeone to defy his despair. And that was something Sarilian found himself increasingly eager to do.

That was how he’d ended up on this latest scouting mission, one of four Celestials sent to patrol a section of the outskirts for voidspawn left over after a recent battle. Their position should put them close to where Sarilian had first encountered the alluring Infernal.

Alluring?Sarilian chided himself as they traversed the silver plains. Where hadthatword come from? Sure, Malorghadbeen handsome, in a tall, dark, and brooding sort of way. And obviously, he was highly skilled, which was admirable. But—

“Target, dead ahead,” Faeris, the squad leader, said, snapping Sarilian from his reverie. He fell in with the others behind her, trusting her keen sight.

His heartbeat quickened as they drew closer. The border with the Dusklands extended along their right flank, no more than five minutes distant. Could it possibly be Malorg up ahead? If it was, that meant the stubborn Infernal hadn’t heeded Sarilian’s words and was once again risking his life fighting weakened in the Dawnlands. Still, Sarilian supposed he could forgive him if it meant an opportunity to talk again.

The target wasn’t Malorg, of course—just a tentacled voidspawn they dispatched with surgical precision. Afterward, Faeris surveyed the area, narrowing her amber eyes. “Where there’s one, there’s almost certainly more. We should sweep the area for other stragglers.”

Sarilian’s gaze flicked longingly in the direction of the Dusklands.This is my chance. “Let’s split up,” he suggested, drawing the rest of the squad’s attention. “If we each take a different cardinal direction, we can cover more ground in less time.”

“It’s risky to divide our forces when we don’t know what’s out there,” Faeris said.

Sarilian muffled his growing excitement. That hadn’t been a no. “As long as none of us venture too far, we should be able to use our dawnflame to send for aid if needed.” He gestured to where the voidspawn they’d slain had been. “Besides, those are the only things we’re likely to encounter—nothing we can’t handle on our own.”

The rest of the squad, Gallan and Kyrian, glanced between him and Faeris, seeming uncertain. Faeris frowned. “Standard procedure states that we remain together while in the field.”

“Standard procedure represents guidelines more than strict rules,” Sarilian argued. It was true enough, even if the same could be claimed for almost every facet of Celestial society. Why bother making a rule you knew no one would ever break? “Besides,” he added when Faeris continued to hesitate, “standard procedurealsovalues efficiency. Otherwise, prudence risks begetting cowardice, which becomes an excuse for inaction.”

He hadn’t meant it as an insult, merely parroting one of Darius’ many sayings. But by the way Faeris tensed, she seemed to have taken it as such. Unlike most of his peers, she’d never quite warmed to him, his sunny optimism clashing too much with her reserved pragmatism.

He opened his mouth to apologize, but before he could, she snapped, “Very well. As you say, nothing we’ve seen so far suggests we’ll face any real danger. But if you encounter anything you can’t handle, don’t hesitate to retreat and call for aid.” She fixed Sarilian with a stern look one step removed from a glare. “Too much prudence may risk cowardice, but too little can lead to recklessness, andthatis the purview of foolhardy Infernals, not Celestials.”

Gallan and Kyrian chuckled. Sarilian managed a faint grin even as inwardly he bristled. It wasn’t until his encounter with Malorg that he’d begun to notice how common such offhanded insults were. Any chance to put down the Infernals and imply Celestial superiority. Butwhy?Were they not united in their shared duty to uphold the Covenant?

He stayed silent, however, taking his victory and setting off toward the border. He kept his spear summoned just in case, but he encountered no further voidspawn. Perhaps the one they’d slain really had been the only one in the region. When he reached the edge of the Dusklands, he hesitated, staring at the border.

Such a stark divide. On one side, the rolling silver plains and endless light of the Dawnlands. On the other, near-utter darkness. Squinting, Sarilian could barely make out the gnarled branches of hunched trees, their bark and leaves painted a dull, listless gray.

The unnerving sight sapped some of his resolve. Was he really going to do this?

He pictured Malorg’s scowling face. If he could just talk to the Infernal one more time, he could excise his ridiculous curiosity and return his focus to the Covenant where it belonged. Squaring his shoulders, he took his first halting step into the Dusklands.

four

Sarilian

Instantly, Sarilian realized whatMalorg must have faced coming to his rescue. The darkness pressed in on all sides, near suffocating. His body’s natural glow dimmed, his connection to dawnflame weakening until he had to struggle even to maintain his armor and spear.

Merciful Light, how had Malorg managed to run, let alonefightin such conditions? That he had been anything more than a liability while so afflicted proved how formidable a warrior he was. Sarilian doubted he could have done half so well in Malorg’s place.

This was a colossally stupid idea. He glanced longingly toward the border and the welcoming light of the Dawnlands shining beyond. A couple steps, and he’d be back where he belonged…and no closer to confronting the Infernal that haunted his thoughts.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he turned his back on his home and stepped deeper into the shadowed forest.

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