Page 316 of Of Empires and Dust

“I offer you this last chance. Die by this blade, or wear it. Which do you choose?”

Tivar’s lips moved, but no words came. Her eyes shifted from the sword in Calen’s hands to the Rakina who watched her. “I…” She looked back to Calen, lowering her voice. “I do not understand. Have Coren and Farwen come?”

Calen shook his head. “Coren and Farwen sent word from the North. They are under siege and have called for aid. Chora Sarn has changed her mind and decided instead to grant you and Avandeer the chance to do something honourable with what is left of your life.” Calen drew a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “If you accept, your life will not be your own. You and Avandeer will be sworn, by your honour, by your soul, by the blood in your veins, to spend every moment standing guard over this world. You will be Onuvrín. Unforgiven. From this day until your last day.”

Slowly, Tivar’s lips cracked into a soft smile, and she looked up at Avandeer, whose head was craned over her. The dragon twisted her neck so that her eyes met those of her soulkin, a deep rumble resonating in her chest.

Tivar dropped to her knees. “By The Father and The Mother, The Warrior and The Sailor, The Maiden and The Smith, we pledge the same vow to you that we did when I first knelt in this eyrie. We give you our dying breaths and every beat of our hearts until that moment. We will be both your sword and your shield. On the bond, we swear it.”

“Then rise, Tivar Savinír, Onuvrín, Unforgiven. Take this sword, and with it be a guardian once more.”

Calen held out the sword and scabbard. Tears welled in Tivar’s eyes as she took it, her hand lingering on Calen’s for just a moment. “You will never know what you have given me,”she whispered, the tears rolling down her cheeks. “Vrail du nur haryníl asatrú en mír.”

Thank you for having faith in me.

“Aver kanet nakil mír olkiran det,” Calen replied.Do not make me regret it.

“Never.” Tivar clipped the scabbard onto her belt and tugged on it firmly. Drawing a deep breath, she turned to face the other Rakina. “I know there is nothing I can do that will turn back the things I have already done. And it is you who have paid the price for my mistakes. I also know there are many who would rather take my head from my shoulders here and now. And I thank you for not bowing to the same darkness that took me.”

A brief silence was followed by the sound of dirt crunching beneath wheels as Chora Sarn moved forwards. “I did not change my mind as Calen said. In my heart I would still rather have you dead. Protect him with your life, Onuvrín. Do not waste the chance we have given you.”

Tivar pressed a fist to her chest and inclined her head.

With that, Chora looked to Calen and nodded once more.

Calen stepped past Tivar and stood before Farda, Hala, and Ilyain.

The elf and white-haired woman returned Calen’s gaze, but Farda stared at the ground.

“Look at me.” The words were barely louder than a whisper, but they were sharp and harsh.

Farda lifted his gaze. His eyes were as green as Ithrax’s scales had been, the scars on his face now pale and pink.

This was the closest Calen had stood to the man since the day Farda had killed Freis. It took every drop of his strength to hold back the fury that swelled in Valerys.

The dragon ignored Calen’s attempt at restraint and moved so that he loomed over his soulkin. Slowly, Valerys lowered his head, bringing his snout barely an arm’s length from Farda’sface. A puff of warm air swept back Farda’s hair as Valerys bared his enormous teeth, a growl resonating in his throat.

Farda looked up at the dragon and did not flinch.

Calen reached down to the patch of red silk he’d tied to his belt loops, twisting it in his armoured fingers. It would never replace his mother’s scarf; nothing could. But it gave him the slightest of reliefs. That was until her screams sounded in his mind.

“Farda Kyrana, Hala Nôri, and Ilyain Altair. You, too, are offered the same choice that has been offered to Tivar.”

Therin and a Dracurïn moved to Calen’s side, Therin handing him another sword and scabbard.

“Die by these blades,” Calen said. “Or wear them. Forsake forgiveness and the lives you once led, and swear yourself to me, swear yourself to the brothers and sisters you betrayed, to the lives you destroyed. You will not be offered this chance again.”

Calen’s heart was a hammer in his chest, resounding thump after resounding thump, the sounds of his father’s forge filling his mind, his mother’s screams echoing. With those sounds, Valerys wrapped his soul around Calen, filling the cracks in his heart, warming the cold depths of his mind with a burning fury.

Farda stared at Calen for a moment, then turned his head to look at Ella.

Calen’s sister had come a few steps closer, Faenir at her side. He wasn’t sure which of the pair looked more savage. Ella’s face twisted in an unnatural snarl, eyes glimmering gold, a pair of fangs jutting from her upper and lower jaws, and dark black claws extending from her fingers. There was none gathered there that day who would ever deny the wolf in her blood.

“I accept,” Farda said, clear and loud. He dropped to one knee. “However long I have left in this world, I wish to spend it trying to reclaim the man I once was. I have no honour left to swear upon, only half a soul to give, cracked and broken as it is,and the blood in my veins is dark and worthless. I swear upon Shinyara’s memory, upon the only piece of me that is good. If I betray that oath, she will never look upon me again, in this life or the next.”

To Farda’s right, Ilyain followed suit, his knees crunching in the dirt. “I am blind, and I am Broken. But I will give all that I am.” He looked to where the Rakina stood, his milky eyes seeming to see. “It means nothing to you, but I have waited a long time to say that I am truly sorry for what was done to this world and for my part in it. My life is yours for as long as you will allow me to walk the mortal plane.”

“Have you ever taken a life with your blood cold?” Hala said once Ilyain grew quiet. “While they knelt before you? Hands empty, neck stretched?” When Calen didn’t respond, she continued. “I am tempted to die by the blade you offer, if only to know if you have the steel in your heart to do it. It’s not much of a choice, is it? Kneel and swear oath, or die.”