ASH
The pyres burn all night.
If merciful Azered still has any sway over the afterlife, may she guide the souls of the fallen to their final rest.
On the edge of camp, I greet the first dawn beneath the volcano’s spreading cloud. For that’s what we finally recognize it for: Ekasya Mountain has erupted. And if the strange letter that arrived with a rogue Losian serpent boat after the battle held any truth – it had a little help.
Seated cross-legged, I carefully infuse each braid of my prayer band with the essence favoured by each of the Younger Gods. Perhaps what Rakel thinks is true – prayers will no longer reach them through the ash cloud. I’m no longer sure they ever heeded my devotion. But neither thought is going to stop me from praying. Some actions you perform in the hopes of a subsequent outcome. Some acts are their own reward.
“I thought I’d find you here.”
I don’t turn. I don’t need to. I know that voice better than my own. “A creature of habit.”
Nisai lowers himself slowly beside me, grimacing as he sets his crutches down. “These cold mornings aren’t going to get any easier.”
A pang of guilt aches in my chest – only a turn ago I would have been at his tent to aid him at a heartbeat’s notice.
“There’s no easy way to articulate this,” I begin.
“So just say what you need to say, Ash. I’m still me.”
“I’m going to stay here with Del, Mish and the others. Until we know what the fallout of all this will be.” I look up to the soot-clogged sky. “I think it’s best they – we – stay in the one place in Aramtesh where we know we’ll do no harm. I wondered if you’d authorize supplies to be left behind when the rest of the forces depart? It’s never going to be a pretty home, but I’d like them to be comfortable. Nobody can rehabilitate under duress.”
“That seems wise.” Always so calm and measured. After everything he’s been through.
I shake my head with a self-deprecating smile. “Possibly the first wise thing I’ve done in a long time. Maybe ever.”
“You’ve always had a quiet wisdom, Ash. It’s one of the reasons I love you.” He looks at me, eyes shining as much with affection as melancholy.
I swallow the lump in my throat, but don’t try to hide the emotion in my own expression.
“And Rakel?” Nisai asks.
“She’s going to make a fresh start. Somewhere of her own choosing. I hope I’ll be able to join her one day, but even if I can’t, she deserves a good life.”
His smile is genuinely pleased. “If anyone has earned it, she has. Though she shouldn’t get too comfortable. I may have need of her yet.”
“Ha! I’m glad I won’t be around for that conversation,” I say, recapping the last vial of prayer essence. “I wish I could return to Lostras with you. There’s nothing more I’d like to see than the coronation.”
“You can rest easy on that front. I meant what I told you back in Aphorai. There won’t be a coronation. The rulers of antiquity tried to build a system that would not be vulnerable to corruption. Perhaps they succeeded in some ways. We had the art and literature and scholarship of the Great Bloom. We avoided war for centuries…”
He trails off, gazing out over what has become of the battleground. The residual sulphur tinging the mist gold in the otherwise steely light. “And then we almost lost it all again. On my father’s watch, and with the helping hand of my brother, no less.”
“You’re not your father. Do you not realize that yet? You would be such a different Emperor than he was.”
Nisai sighs. “Incrementally improving on my father’s reign isn’t enough for me.”
My thoughts are stricken. He can’t truly abdicate. He’s the best of all of them; his brother did what he could with what he knew, but it was always misguided. Nisai would be different. Better than his father, than any of his siblings. “But after everything we’ve fought for…”
“I believe our very existence hinges on our unity. But an Emperor and a Council of the most privileged families in each province? I think our future lies elsewhere.”
“What will you do?”
“The Council and I will report to a larger interim committee, of those we trust to have the people’s best interest at heart. And then, as soon as we can ensure it will be a fairly and transparently staged exercise, we’ll let the people decide. Cast ballots on who they would like to represent them. An even amount from each province, each with an equal vote in laws.”
“Sounds complicated.”
“You know I thrive on a challenge.”
I smile, relieved that his faith in his abilities is returning.
“But yes, I’ll do whatever I can to make it possible for you to take care of your brethren. And then, I hope one day you’ll be able to be with the one meant for you.” For a moment his eyes are sad.
But it’s the briefest of moments.
Because Kip is clearing her throat with as much politeness as she can muster. She’s become so good at being unobtrusive that even I hadn’t consciously registered her presence. I turn to see what she’s alerting us to. Ah. Barden.
Without permission or preamble, he thuds down next to Nisai and wraps his arm around his waist. It’s the most casual breach of so many palace protocols I’d lose count of them if I tried to make a list. When these two get back to Lostras, Barden’s going to drive Nisai’s valet to distraction.
Barden grins at Nisai. It’s an open, honest smile. And I know in that moment, in all the Aphorain Guard’s provincial disregard for court niceties, in the way he looks at Nisai like he’s the light in the dark, that I need not worry. Between him – the partner I couldn’t be for fear of compromising my duty – and Kip, the Shield whose loyal service won’t be complicated by her feelings, Nisai has what he needs. Not safety: I’ve seen too much of the world to think Nisai will ever be safe as he sets about changing the Empire into a place for its people, a process that will make him so many enemies among the entitled. But I can rest knowing he’ll be supported.
Cared for.
Loved.
Everything I’d ever want for him.
The realization is bittersweet. I’m truly not needed any more. It’s a thought that brings liberation, and, immediately upon its heels, a first wave of nostalgia.
I tie off the final band in my prayer braid and roll to my feet. “Perhaps if it bears out that magic is truly behind us, and once things are stable in the new capital, you’ll permit me to visit.”
Nisai gives me his lopsided smile, the one that used to signal mischief and fun when we were young. It’s a smile I’ll miss dearly. For we both know his mission will take turns, not moons. But one day I’d like to think his promise of a new Aramtesh will come true.
“I’d like that,” he says simply.
I step back, regarding the man I’ve dedicated the majority of my life to. Our eyes meet, and we hold each other’s gaze until, finally, I will myself to thump my fist to my chest – a former Imperial Family Shield to the soon-to-be former First Prince of Aramtesh.
Nisai nods gravely.
We both know it’s my final salute.