Page 139 of A Rising Hope

I cried for the little girl who loved her father despite it all. I cried for the girl who, despite everything, kept hope for appeasement and dreamed that one day, perhaps many years from now, there would be a moment when she’d be seen, be accepted by him.

But that hope died alongside his bleeding body.

“You were my father. You were supposed to love me.” I cried out and I let the tears pour from me as I cradled his motionless body. “You were supposed to care for me! I spent all my life trying to make you love me, trying to make you see me . . . ” My words were jumbled, tainted with grief and loss. I cried because the wound that I thought had long been scarred over was now bleeding, gushing as if it was the day I walked away from our family home never to return.

“I wish I was enough. I wish I was enough for you more than anything. I am so sorry . . . I am sorry.” My vision blurred and hands shook, but I held him closer.

“Over here!” someone shouted.

“Fuck. Zora!Fuck!” Orest’s muffled voice sounded from afar.

“I am so sorry . . . ” was all my lips could mumble. “I am so sorry.”

I felt Orest’s hands on my cheeks as he stared at my leaden eyes. His lips moved, but I didn’t understand the words. He shouted a few commands as more soldiers poured in. I felt my body move as Orest picked me up. The shouts and orders were muffled, streets flooded with our battalions raising Gideon’s insignia for everyone to see and submit to. But my eyes were glued to the lifeless body of my father, his peppered gray hair stark against the crimson, his black eyes still wide open.

“Get him out of her sight, damn it,” Orest scrambled, carrying me away from the shadowed alley. The city was swallowed by infernos, whether it was from Finn’s dragons or Gideon’s flame I didn’t care as my vision darkened and mind crumbled like sand against a wave.

“Zora, listen to me,” Orest spoke against my hollow body. And I tried. I tried to fight through the rising craving of the Numb. “The war is over. You did it. No more fighting. No more death. It is over.”

“I am so sorry,” was all I could say, as my chest wheezed its last drop of air. Streams of tears rolled down my cheeks without reprieve. Each drop was heavier than the one before, taking the last sliver of strength my body had. My limbs shuddered incessantly. All I could see was the dark sky covered in smoke, and my stained, bloody hands.

“Stay with me, Zora,” Orest whispered in my ear, holding me tight against his chest. “Listen to my voice, Commander.” A sliver of my consciousness clung tight to the tethering sound of his firm voice.

Orest walked, carrying me past the rushing soldiers, past the smoke and the flames of the final battles erupting throughoutthe city. He carried me far beyond the sound of fighting, past the carnage and the bloodstained fortifications. He walked until we reached a long alleyway of trees, away from prying stares. He kneeled, gently rocking my shaking body as I sobbed.

“We’ll be okay,” he reassured my scrambling mind, kissing my forehead. “You’ll be okay.”

“I am so sorry . . . ” I managed to say between the clattering of my teeth.

“I am never letting go.Never,” Orest whispered.

And he didn’t, holding me tight as I wept against his chest until the sun hid far beyond the horizon.

79

GIDEON

Iwiped the blood off my swords against the charred flags of the destroyed enemy battalions at my feet.

The City of Light had fallen.

I strolled past the scattered remnants of bodies towards the small, barricaded pub. Sheathing both of my swords, I knocked on the closed door four times. A set of footsteps sounded. The door chimes rang, and a friendly face peeked out from the open door.

“Not even going to ask who is here?” I raised my brow at Xentar.

“I figured if someone wanted to kill me, they wouldn’t be knocking. And if they did, it was a polite thing to do. And who am I to discourage good manners from Destroyers for once?” His face turned a few shades lighter as he beheld the piles of bodies scattered all over the streets. His throat bobbed, watching my soldiers rip the insignias from the dead before burning them. He swallowed hard, no doubt fighting a terrible urge to puke.

“So, it’s over now?” he questioned, tearing his eyes away from the gore that covered the city. I gave him a nod, scanning the street. “Good,” he managed to say before turning to the sideand hurling his guts out. “Gods dammit.” He gagged. I chuckled, patting him on his shoulder.

“Do I need to hold your hair for you?” I sneered, holding his long braids, as he violently puked again.

“Fuck off.” Xentar strained, standing up, wiping away the snot from his nose. His golden eyes scanned the surroundings. “It’ll take ages to clean up,” he murmured, staring at the bloodstained, white walls of the ancient buildings.

“Wait until you see the river,” I murmured, looking up to the sky, anxiously looking for her.

“What did you do?” His lips turned to thin lines as he glared.

“Minor adjustments, but you might need a few Creators to fix it.” I smirked.

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