Page 80 of Empire of Wrath and Ruin
"They're not cowards," Tarshi said sharply, turning on his brother. "They're afraid. Afraid of you, afraid of what you represent. And you just proved them right by threatening them."
"I didn't threaten anyone—"
"You didn't have to!" Tarshi's voice cracked with frustration. "The shadows did it for you. Every time you lose control, every time the darkness shows through, you give them another reason to see you as a liability instead of an asset."
The brothers stared at each other across a gulf that seemed to be widening by the day. I could feel the pain radiating from both of them—Taveth's fury at being constantly judged and found wanting, Tarshi's anguish at watching his twin slip further into darkness.
"Maybe they're right," Taveth said quietly, and the defeat in his voice was somehow worse than his anger. "Maybe I am too dangerous to be trusted."
"Don't," I said fiercely, moving to his side. "Don't let them convince you that you're a monster. You're not."
But even as I said it, I could feel the doubt creeping in. The shadows around him were growing stronger, more agitated, responding to emotions he couldn't fully control. How long before another episode like the one in our chambers? How long before the darkness consumed him entirely?
"So what now?" Septimus asked, breaking the heavy silence. "Do we accept their decision and wait for the Empire to destroy everything we care about?"
"No," Jalend said, straightening with visible effort. "We go anyway. Without their support, without their blessing. We take the fight to the Empire ourselves."
"With what resources?" Antonius pointed out. "No supplies, no contacts in the capital, no way to even reach the Imperial city without being captured."
The hopelessness of our situation settled over the room like a shroud. Seven people against an empire, with no support and no clear path forward. It felt like staring up at an insurmountable mountain and being told to climb it with our bare hands.
That's when the soft knock came at our door.
We all froze, instantly alert. It was late enough that any official summons would have come with armed escorts, loud enough to wake half the temple. This was something else—someone trying not to be noticed.
Marcus moved to the door, his hand instinctively going to his sword hilt before he remembered we weren't armed. "Who is it?"
"A friend," came the muffled reply, and I recognized Mira's voice immediately.
She slipped inside like a shadow, closing the door carefully behind her before turning to face us. Her expression was grim but determined, and there was something in her eyes that made my heart leap with unexpected hope.
"I argued for you in the council," she said without preamble. "Fought for your plan until my voice gave out. But the old guard won, as they always do. They're terrified of change, terrified of risk, terrified of anything that might upset the careful balance they've maintained for centuries."
"So you've come to gloat?" Taveth asked, his voice bitter.
"I've come to help," Mira said simply. "Because unlike the council, I can see past my own fear to the reality we're facing."
She moved further into the room, dumping two heavy leather bags on the floor. "The border plan is suicide. Oh, it soundsnoble and traditional, but it's exactly what the Empire wants. Our forces spread thin along defensive lines, fighting a war of attrition we can't possibly win. They'll crush us with superior numbers and dragon fire, then march into our heartland unopposed."
"The council knows this?" I asked.
"Some do. But they'd rather die as heroes in a doomed last stand than live with the uncertainty of your plan." Mira's expression hardened. "Fools. All of them. They've let tradition blind them to necessity."
She pointed at the leather satchels. "Supplies. Food that won't spoil, water flasks, medicinal herbs. Not much, but enough to get you started."
Hope began to kindle in my chest as she continued.
"I have contacts in the border towns, resistance sympathizers who can provide safe houses and information. Forged traveling papers that should get you past most checkpoints in the Imperial city. And..." She hesitated, as if what she was about to say carried particular weight. "I know people in the capital who can put you up and get you into the palace if you’re wanting to slip in quietly. Not many, but enough to give you a chance."
Jalend leaned forward eagerly. "What kind of people?"
"Servants in the palace, mostly. Kitchen staff, groundskeepers, people who are invisible to the nobility but see everything. A few minor functionaries who've grown disgusted with what they're forced to enable." Mira's smile was sharp as a blade. "You'd be surprised how many people in the heart of the Empire are ready for change."
The transformation in our group was immediate and electric. Backs straightened, eyes brightened, the crushing weight of despair lifting like fog before the morning sun. We weren't alone after all. We had allies, resources, a path forward.
"Why?" Taveth asked, and for the first time in hours, his voice was free of that alien harmonic. "Why risk yourself for us?"
Mira was quiet for a long moment, her gaze distant. "Because I've seen what the Empire does to conquered people. I've watched them systematically destroy cultures, enslave populations, turn children into weapons against their own families. And I've seen what happens to those who refuse to fight back."
