Page 464 of Of Empires and Dust

Salara shook her head.

Barathûr’s soulkin, Haviríl, let out a sigh on Salara’s other side. She rested her hand on her sword pommel. “What are we? All these years we have waited… for vengeance, for honour… and still he tears us apart. And now, we commit the same atrocities as those we hate?”

As Haviríl spoke, the words the man who rescued Boud had spoken in Salara’s chamber occupied every corner of her mind.“But your fate is not yet decided. It is in your own hands. What do you want to be? A hero or a monster?”

“What would you do?” Salara asked, looking to both Lomari and Haviríl, then to Taran, who remained silent.

“I would stop following blindly.” Lomari’s expression didn’t change as he stared out at the horizon. He knew the meaning of those words, knew the risk of speaking them.

“Be careful of your next words, Lomari.”

“Or what, Salara? You will strike me down? I’ve lived far too long to care about death. Death is an old friend. I will smile when I see them.” After a moment, he looked at Salara. “Alvira followed the council blindly when she allowed The Order to slowly rot – we all did. And Eltoar and the traitors followed Fane blindly when they butchered their own kin. I am tired of being blind. Blinded by honour, by fate, by vengeance. I wish to see. Do you not?”

Salara hesitated, then gave a slow nod. “I believe it is time we sit down with this new Draleid and see if a future can be found for our kind in which we don’t tear each other apart.”

Chapter 107

Of Gods and Ashes

28thDay of the Blood Moon

Temple of Achyron – Winter, Year 3081 After Doom

Haem foundKallinvar in the Soul Vault, staring at all the Sigils that had returned to their alcoves – staring at Brother Tarron’s.

“What is it, brother?” Kallinvar asked without turning his head, his voice steeped in loss.

“I want to speak to him.”

“To who?”

“Achyron. I want to speak to him.”

Kallinvar turned his gaze from the Sigils and looked into Haem’s eyes. “Why?”

“This cannot be it, Kallinvar.” Haem clenched his hand into a fist behind his back. “It can’t. You said you can hear his voice, that you talk to him.”

“Your brother is dead, Arden. You must accept that.”

“Why? Why must I accept it?”

“Because there are things in this life that just are. Calen is not the only one we lost this day. What has brought this on?”

“What has brought it on?” Haem’s throat tightened, and he clenched his jaw. “I woke with my little brother’s dead body in my arms.” That was the moment the tears flowed, rolling gently down his cheeks. There was nothing he could do to stop them. They were a symptom of a broken heart. “I watched him grow, Kallinvar. I watched him take his first step and speak his first word. I held him in my arms. He was mine to protect –mine. I promised our dad that I would watch over them both, that I would keep them safe. And this morning, as the sun rose, I held Calen’s cold body and I looked into his dead eyes… and I just cannot accept it. I will not.”

“Achyron cannot bring back the dead, Arden.”

“Look at us.” Haem said, opening his arms. “What arewe?”

“That is not the same.”

“How do you know?” Haem roared. “How do we know anything at all? I need to try!”

Kallinvar stared back at Haem, tilting his head slightly. He closed his eyes. A few moments passed, and he nodded. “Say what you must.”

Haem’s Sigil burned in his chest, ice flowing through his veins. The world flashed with a green light, and when the light faded, he stood atop a cliff, the wind blowing against him, the waves of a sparkling silver ocean stretching out before him.

He stood there in silence, watching in awe as the light from a sunless sky sparkled across the ocean. When he looked to one side, he found himself staring at a man with a head of thick black hair and dark beard. He wore a long purple cloak over a marble-white cuirass, his hands clasped behind his back.

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