Page 36 of The Immortal Covenant

He turned his attention to the center seat, straining to see past the light shrouding the Dawn Emissary. The illumination was brightest there, making it difficult to discern anything but the vague outline of a figure. As he squinted, however, the floating lights dimmed, bringing the emissary into better focus. Shock rippled through Malorg, his pulse accelerating.

Impossible!

But impossible or not, he couldn’t deny what his eyes showed him. Sarilian leaned forward, his expression fixed in a pleasant smile tinged with just a hint of sadness as he folded his hands on the table separating them. “Honored Emissary. My name is Sarilian. Pleased to meet you.”

fourteen

Sarilian

It was surreal returningto Twilight after more than a year away. While the other Celestial delegates seemed determined to ignore as much of the city as possible, their eyes glued forward and their backs rigid with disapproval, Sarilian couldn’t help his roving gaze.

The shadowed streets appeared simultaneously familiar yet strange, like a half-remembered dream. Without a darkvision enchantment, he could only make out the vaguest outlines of the shifting embellishments he knew surrounded them.

Passing Infernals gave them a wide berth. Most acted like they didn’t even exist, and a few even sniffed or turned up their noses. Disparaging whispers followed in the delegation’s wake.

Still, the city felt teeming with life in a way Daybreak’s carefully curated streets rarely did. Such vibrancy had once thrilled Sarilian. But after everything that had happened, he’d come to appreciate Daybreak’s quiet serenity. It seemed safersomehow, more comforting—a reminder that, even whenhefelt like he was falling apart, the rest of the realm stood firm.

And if sometimes, alone in his room beneath the Dawnlands’ eternal day, he recalled Malorg’s icy lips and gentle touch, longing for the many hours they’d spent talking and enjoying each other’s company…well, that only offered more proof why he had to stay away. If he’d seen Malorg again, he hadn’t known if he’d be strong enough to make the right choice again.

Are you strong enough now?

The question taunted him as their procession reached the spiked crown of the Dusk Citadel and strode up curved black steps reminiscent of a colossal spine. His hand strayed upward to where his duskflame pendant lay concealed beneath his clothes. Though months in the Dawnlands had dulled its magic, the necklace pulsed now like a frigid heartbeat against his breast—yet another remnant of his time here he hadn’t been able to completely let go.

After that doomed conversation near the rift into the Shroud, Sarilian had distracted himself the only way he knew how by throwing himself into his duties. He’d signed up for every available voidspawn excursion, devoted every scrap of his free time to assisting Darius until he was certain the Aspect must be growing sick of his near-constant presence.

A year passed until thoughts of Malorg were reserved only for rare moments of rest or when his duties took him too close to the wavering border that separated light and dark: an eternal reminder of what could never be. But then the Dusk Council’s request for aid had spread through Daybreak like wildfire. And Sarilian, fool that he was, had begged Darius until the Aspect of Justice relented and put in a good word for him. Thus had Sarilian been appointed the Dawn Emissary, with Darius and Faeris to round out his other two delegates.

“No matter the outcome, this represents a rare training opportunity,” Darius had told him, his voice begrudging. “Few Celestials are granted such unparalleled access into the Dusklands. We can learn much about our fair-weather friends for when hostilities resume.”

The look Darius had given him implied that he thought such an outcome inevitable. The Aspect had made no secret of his disapproval for the Accords or Sarilian’s involvement, and Sarilian hadn’t forgotten their previous conversation about Malorg. Darius likely worried he’d prove a liability.

Truth be told, Sarilian feared the same. His sympathies for the Infernals might make him a good emissary, but they’d also make him easy to manipulate. Especially when he’d be facing an enormous distraction.

Said distraction weighed on him as he took his seat in the conference chamber that had been chosen for their negotiations. The rest of the delegation clustered around him, there to offer advice and present a united front against the Infernals. Faeris took the chair to his left while Darius himself sat to his right. The Aspect of Justice claimed he’d come to represent the Dawn Council in the proceedings, but Sarilian suspected it was just as much to keep an eye on him.

Requesting Malorg as the Dusk Emissary had seemed the noble thing to do at the time. After all, peace between Celestials and Infernals had been Malorg’s dream long before it had been Sarilian’s. And if rewriting the Covenant together offered them both some much-needed closure, well—so much the better. No matter how confidently Sarilian believed in his decision, he worried about Malorg. The last thing he wanted was to leave him in pain.

A pat on his arm jerked Sarilian from his reverie. He glanced over to find Darius giving him a firm look. “Relax, Sarilian. We’ve practiced oratory and memorized Infernal customs.We’ve strategized about what concessions they might request and devised potential counteroffers. We have a list of the Dawn Council’s terms, both primary and secondary, to drive the Accords. You are as prepared as you will ever be. I know you will make us proud.”

The praise sent a flush of warmth through Sarilian. He nodded gratefully to Darius.Thank you,he meant to say, but what came out instead was, “I hope so, sir.”

The soft slide of the doors whispered from the chamber’s far end, announcing a new arrival. Sarilian’s breath caught in his throat. Malorg was as handsome as he remembered, his narrow face stern and his lithe body full of deadly grace as he stalked across the floor to take his seat between two other Infernals that had yet to say a word.

Malorg clearly hadn’t seen him yet, and as the Infernal introduced himself and bantered with Darius, Sarilian took the opportunity to study his former lover. Was it his imagination, or was Malorg’s pale face more drawn, his eyes full of a heavier weariness?

He’d certainly dressed up for the occasion—Sarilian had never seen him in anything other than his hunting clothes. The new outfit looked good, slim-fitting and stylish, though Sarilian couldn’t help but think of it as out of place, like someone had shoved a skirt on a voidspawn.

Eventually, Malorg turned his attention toward Sarilian, no doubt curious about the opposing emissary. His squinted expression made it clear he struggled to pierce the glow of dawnflame, so Sarilian ordered their lanterns dimmed, ignoring the other delegates’ murmured complaints.

It’s not like the lights did them much good anyway—most of the Dusklands’ beauty remained shrouded, its scintillating patterns dulled to their eyes. If only Darius and the others could see the realm unveiled in all its glory as he had.

His gaze met Malorg’s, and the Infernal’s eyes widened as if he’d seen a ghost. Sarilian swallowed, gathering himself.I can do this. I can be strong—for my people, for peace, and for Malorg’s dream.

“Honored Emissary,” he said, inclining his head in a show of politeness Darius had drilled into him. “My name is Sarilian. Pleased to meet you.”

He’d spent many restless nights considering how best to handle this reunion, but in the end, feigning polite interest had seemed the safest course. If anyone, even Darius, realized the full extent of their existing relationship, it could ruin any hope of reconciliation.

Facing Malorg now, however, it took every ounce of Sarilian’s restraint to maintain his composure. For a moment, he thought he caught the same desperate longing he felt reflected in Malorg’s slate-gray orbs. Then, the Infernal’s face hardened, and Sarilian was left wondering if it had only been wishful thinking.

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