Though she plans to sacrifice far more than one.
Perhaps I should change that phrase, she considers briefly.
The sacrifice of many is worth the salvation of any.
Even as she prepares her muscles to move, to stretch, to strain, she keeps a part of her mind’s eye on the rest of the present. The tent flutters in the cold Winter air…
“Are you going to defend yourself, Telias?”
Still a few moments yet. She’s moved past regret, past fear, past what little humanity remains to her. Her unseeing eyes nevertheless move around the archways of windows filled with glass of such beauty and strength the world will never again see their like, the floors so intricately carved as to beggar belief, a twisting mosaic of all that makes up the world, the high vaulted ceiling so distant all sound echoes. The throne she graced for millennia still stands, a grim monolith three paces behind. She can see none of these things, and yet each is more vivid to her than if she had eyes to witness them now.
This moment has played out in all its infinite variations before her mind’s eye. It always seemed so distant, so impossibly distant. Racing over the infinite realm of possibility, witnessing the death of each world, all worlds, an infinite number of ends to an infinite number of lives, it was easy to forget that this moment approached. Yet now it has arrived.
They called her mad. Perhaps she is. Mad to fight, to strive, to search for all the untold centuries of life she has been granted. Mad to give up the present for the future. Mad to sacrifice everything that made her human so that humanity might, might, live.
“It is forbidden for a Shaper of the Council to lead and govern men. This army you have raised is a clear breach of our laws. It is forbidden for a Shaper, but not for a man.”
A pause. The dull sound of a dagger slamming into wood echoes through the soundless space.
“Become a man.”
She tenses, the crux upon her faster than she expects, the pivot in history upon which all rests. She moves, slowly, her muscles protesting from long disuse, yet still responding, still supple and young, still strong despite the uncaring turning of the world. She crouches over him, silently, bathed in a golden glow her unseeing eyes can’t register. Her hands come up, preparing to squeeze, to twist, to… end. She calls on her strength, long passive, this one final time… awakened.
Existence holds its breath. The world’s turning slows. In this moment, however fleeting, time eases its passage to a crawl.
“I would have faltered, wouldn’t I?” he says quietly, his voice a melody of song in this place of silence. She pauses, surprised and yet not. This future is rare, this present unexpected. It almost breaks her. Maybe it does.
“Too many times to leave to chance,” she whispers, tears unfelt sliding down her cheeks.
“Good, then. We can’t risk failing now,” he answers, content. There is a brief pause. She slows time further to give him the chance to speak. “Was it worth it? Us? This?”
“Yes,” she lies quietly, bending low and pressing a kiss to his furrowed brow. It smooths, his expression clearing. She knows his hair still bears the rich brown of his youth, his eyes still soft and young. She knows the golden symbol of his power still glows strong and bright on the back of his left hand where it rests against her leg. “It was worth it.”
She makes it painless. The end of her last subject, the last living soul under her rule.
Existence exhales. The world turns again. Time resumes its inexorable march.
And Elitrea, the Eternal, now queen of nothing, buries her face in her hands to weep.
THE ETERNAL DREAM WILL CONTINUE…
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Acknowledgments
I'd first like to acknowledge you, the reader, for your eyes are the reason these words exist. For making it this far, thank you. Hopefully it wasn't too painful to get here. There will be more.
The two people who helped most in the creation of this book would require a novel unto themselves, so I'll keep their acknowledgement short. Pop, thanks for listening to a hundred thousand ideas, some of which are related to plot points that won't be relevant for ten flipping books, and doing your best to understand and follow along. Your love and pride has always inspired me to keep fighting. Ellen, thank you for your endless support and love. Your belief in me allowed me to believe in myself. Thank you for reminding me that love exists. And for kicking me in the ass when I needed it.
To my beta readers: Mom, Wells, Meghann, Elizabeth, Mark, Neal, Caitlyn, Emma, Raven, Rich, Evan, Meagan, Brittany, Dickie, Jeff, and Leila (if I forgot someone, I will accept your everlasting anger). Your contributions allowed me to see where my wayward brain was, well, wayward. Thank you for taking the time to make this monster so much better.
Thanks especially to Evan Chabot and Emma Kenemer, without whom the lovely map and cover art for this story would not exist. Your talents constantly amaze.
Thanks to all my students, who never read a word but told me that they would love to read this book. Hopefully, the product lives up to the hype.
Finally, thank you to the fantastic teachers who, perhaps unwittingly, nudged me along this path. The most potent is Mr. Ahern, who took my Legend of Zelda fanfiction in 3rd grade, stained it with tea, burned the edges with flame, and gave me the first belief that my writing could do something magical. What a wonderful thing to do for a child. Thank you to all my fellow teachers, especially those who encourage little nerds that their stories are worth hearing.
The Crux of Eternity: Eternal Dream, Book 1 (The Eternal Dream Saga) Page 55