"Do you think the people here want me protecting them, Scholar?" I replied, tentatively, pausing in my juggling to look over at him (only once he'd taken a bit to go on) then he was smiling at me.
"I think that whether they want it, or you want it..." he shook his head "doesn't matter so much. You'll do your duty.... the same should apply to battle, shouldn't it?" he'd wondered patiently.
And he hadn't waited for my reply. And in my head, I'd thought, should apply to killing, for that had been the reason I'd meant to avoid battles. But I'd never thought that he was right—because it was different for Cyric Dracla; he couldn't be trusted.
Only here I was, and nearly every part of me didn't want to kill Lox. He was choking Ellia, certainly—so I would stop him. But I could disable him; I could cut his hands away; I could make sure that he was captured, then Amalia or Lucian might get the chance to fight him. But hadn't I decided already it was my duty to fight him? Or, had that been when Ellia wouldn't be here, and had I thought in the back of my mind that it would be disabling him only.
Ellia's eyes widened, wet with tears, and I realized only by how close they were that I had kept on coming towards Lox without stop— how near I was to him. And with her sudden, muffled yelp, I jumped from the glass up around his body, high enough to get a grip, and from there I stuck my knife into his chest—what must have been his heart—a perfect strike.
As soon as I heard his muffled reply, saw his hand loosen from Ellia's neck, and her drop safely to the ground, everything, everything that had been wildly confusing, and lost, and blurry to me, came into focus. The room of red, and stone, its crumbled walls, the dragon far off outside and its fate, the blue sky, the sounds of Warrior's and chimera behind us, Ellia's short gasps, my own heartbeat, and Lox. With Lox, came a thousand evil images of the things he had done, and how absolutely right that he should no longer be a part of this world. He had only made it worse. I thought of Veera, then I thought of Tobias, then Amalia, and Lucian, and Ellia, and Savras, even Molec. I could feel his own pulse racing beneath me. Feel his great body, convulse, I let go the knife, then told him, like they weren't my own words, just a message from an old friend.
"You will never see the Akadia of your dreams, Commander."
And with that, his eyes went wide. I did not think that he could have moved again, but he did, jerked back, and I fell clear of him. And he staggered a step around to face me. Then his eyes, I suppose they did what I would have most feared: they showed grief, betrayal, turning liquid and pained; he guessed who I was; these words he had spoken to Tobias with none but mine and Ellia's ears to hear. I remembered his words to Ellia, things I hadn't taken in consciously until now; that he'd considered me his best officer, that he'd never replaced me right. But I did not regret, even while my chest ached and my nose stung: as fiercely as it had that day before Lox had sentenced me.
We stood facing each other like that, and then, I felt a body grab at the side of me. Then he collapsed the next second, and so did I.
ELLIA:
"Cole, Cole, Cole, Cole, wake up," I cried, "please wake up."
I moved my sleeves up, rubbing at my eyes, to clear the tears so I could see him. He lay on the ground, just where he'd fallen.
Why hadn't he used the fire for Kraehe? I'd thrown it to him, so that she wouldn't hurt him, now I could see his side and leg—one whole half of his body, was wet with blood, sticking his robes to him. It had been horrid, fighting Lox, hearing, practically seeing outside the corner of my vision, Cole being knocked on this way and that about the chamber by Kraehe—and hadn't it all been my fault. But the worst part was that I'd been so much more focused on Lox, and killing him, for Cyric. He'd said, the worst and best things about him both at once. How easy he'd been to win over. How much he'd enjoyed killing for Lox. How well he'd trained, and how poorly those afterwards had replaced him. How he'd screamed when he'd died. How he'd have never left Lox if Lox hadn't intended him to.
So it had been my sole aim through to silence Lox. And I'd succeeded, in disabling him, using that very technique which Tobias had taught to me—and I'd seen he'd recognized it. And all this, I'd done with Cole and Kraehe, and even more granted animals, crashing around and past us. But it had been when I'd seen Luffie's mind, when it had gone from me, and then there had been light like a color, I couldn't tell—like that light her mind had glowed with when she'd first used the lightning bolts—it had been that sort of inconceivable thing; but one part of it had been clear.
Kraehe would not last it. Kraehe was sentenced by her fellows.
Lox had then fallen forgotten to me, in the sudden realization of it, and I'd only come to remember that he was there left alive when I'd felt my head being jerked backwards; his massive hands on my neck, the back of it, then the front, then both sides. And I'd felt my feet lifting from the ground. And I'd tried to call to Luffie, but her mind had been distant.
"I'll send you to meet your swine kinsmen," he'd said.
Then I'd seen Cole, coming up, and I'd put everything into not looking his direction, so as not to give him away. So I'd been forced to stare at Lox's face, but even then, I hadn't known what Cole would do. Not until he'd reached around him and stabbed him through. My throat drank in a gasp—both for surprise, and for the sudden release to my neck. Then I'd toppled to the ground.
But that was all my foolishness. I could still feel tears in my eyes for Kraehe, and a slamming in my head, for the grief of losing her, but now I wasn't sure if both weren't for Cole. Lox was dead; I'd made sure. He was lying there yards away. I wished he were further. Cole had only just crumpled to the ground. I'd tried to hold him up, but he'd been too heavy, so he'd fallen into only more glass and hard stone.
"Cole, Cole," I repeated. "Cole!"
"It's alright," he replied. "I'm not gone." He made a sound, like a wince, though his voice had been surprisingly clear, then he gasped in, "Is Lox—"
"Oh, Cole, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
I started pressing his face, his neck, his hands, not with kisses, just with my face, and hands—to be sure that he was there, and to be sure he knew how sorry I was. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."
"Ellia stop—" he said. I felt his hand on the back of my head.
It made me gasp, since I wasn't sure he'd be strong enough to do that. Thinking this, even though, made me realize, I had no clue as to how injured he was; I hadn't even looked. I moved my hand straightway to his arm, first, to tear away the robes to look, but then his voice cracked, "Don't."
For the first time I paused to look at him. He looked the same as he almost always did. His robes were torn in places, and wet; his mask was loosened, but not revealing; in fact I saw less of his face, and only the smallest glint for his eyes.
"Not now," he went on. "Not like this. Please don't."
"Do you mean your robes?" I choked. "But Cole, you're hurt."
I felt Luffie's mind. Was she finally coming clear from the powers used against Kraehe? I looked up that direction to tell, and yes, it was that all that bright and colorful light had gone. At its last, it had widened to a globe, Kraehe inside of it. From what Luffie told me now, it wasn't a painful thing. It hadn't been riders, but the animals themselves which had done it. So with the White Tiger, coming up. I didn't understand all of that, how it could have gotten here, or what had happened. But I saw now, that our armies, in all separate colors, were crowding closer to the palace district. The wyverns had not gone yet, but from Luffie's thoughts, the goblin had accepted it and they were returning. I showed her Lox's death: asking that she tell Gael, and then I showed her Cole, and called her here to help him.
All this in a second, then I looked back at Cole, my hands, one on his chest, the other still on his arm, ready to pull away his cloth.
"I'm not that hurt," he objected, "Please.... Did you make sure that Lox—"
"Yes," I interrupted, "He's dead. He's dead. I made sure."
"And Luffie?"
"She's alright. She
's fine."
His body slumped with a sigh—like the last of his energy had been holding for this. "Ellia, I'm sorry it took me so long to kill him." He spoke this raggedly.
It made me sob once. "Cole? What, Cole, no. I'm sorry I put you in danger. You shouldn't have come here."
"I'm angry with you, Ellia. If I could stand better, I might shout at you."
I sobbed again. In my heart, and chest, all I could feel was the weight of Lox being gone. He was gone. He was truly gone. My neck was thick, from the pain of him squeezing it; my every muscle was sore; my arms burned, and my clothes were ragged; I could only imagine how Cole felt for how he looked and sounded, but instead of the present my mind went to as I'd seen him last, in the palace at Karatel, shouting at him, then disappearing.
"Oh, Cole, you know that I do not hate you. I am sorry for ever saying so."
"You were scared," he replied simply. "Now that I think of it, no wonder when you were coming here alone.... Are you really not angry with me?"
I couldn't even answer this. I only dropped my head into his neck. I heard something land beside us in a flush of air—or was it a tiger, leaping on again? But either way, I only kept my head to him, crying. Then he spoke, for me. "I thought that Lucian might have wanted to kill Lox himself. Tell him, when you see him, that I killed him for Tobias, alright? Tell Amalia too. Tell them that I'm sorry if they wanted to."
I shook my head, still crying. I thought it was as much for Kraehe, as Luffie, as Cole, and Cyric, and everything.
"Ellia," Cole spoke again. Now his voice was as weak, as ever, but I did not want it to be. His fingers, were on my shoulder, I thought, but they were so weak, it was as if they weren't there. "Don't look at me, while I'm unconscious, alright? Do you promise? Let someone else if they have to. But I think my head's alright."
I started crying harder.
"Do you promise?" he repeated.
I started nodding for him. "Yes, Cole. Yes, I promise."
Then that must have been the last thing he heard, before he went very still in my arms.
Chapter Twenty-Six
ELLIA:
I stood out on the edge of the city, facing a wide open space, that had once been called the field of radiance, and had then become a cavern for the behemoths, then a gaping hole open to the sky. But now, thanks to the Genbuans, it was a lake, perfectly bright and sparkling.
That had been their pledge, to me: what they'd never given, and I'd never thought twice of them not giving in Genbu. I'd thought of the shards as their pledge, even with as many times Cole had explained how Tongon had made it clear they were something belonging to Shaundakul.
The place where I stood, that was a circular summit, surrounded by pillars. The Akadians gave it the name of High Hill, but I knew it as that place which the granted temple had once stood; the granted temple which Tobias had taken me too. Where he'd taught me his maneuver with the sword, and teased me for trying to dance when we were meant to be sparring. Where he had fallen.
So ahead was the granted temple, and beside it the lake, a vivid blue, and reflecting the sun, and if I were to fall now, as I had so long ago, to the surface below, it would be beside that lake that I would land. And there also would be the behemoths, stretched out around it. There were not many of them, yet. But a half-dozen had returned, and so, any specialists expected that more would come. The granted temple, presently, was alive, with resting chimera and Vermillion Birds. Sometimes the White Tigers braved to climb up it, but as for the Tortoises, a ramp was in plan to be built, so that they might go up to enjoy it as well—for whatever times they might come to visit the great city.
I was not alone. Amalia was beside me.
"Are you sorry that you were not here for the battle?" I asked her, "After all?"
As usual, she wore a dress. This one of white and gold. Her hair was braided, as was mine. But despite the end of warring, I wore my Warrior's Uniform as usual. It had been four days since the end to the attack; since Lox's death; but there'd been so much work, so many bodies to be cleared away, even the filling of the tunnels of the cavern, which the Tortoises and Genbuans had done themselves, that there had been little time yet for celebration. And there were many still being treated for injuries as well. Daily, the chimera and other warriors, that had come worked to help, but some from Karatel and the east, had already returned back home.
"I think," Amalia replied, her tone slow and calm. I felt, more than I ever had, that I understood her, and that I knew for certain what sort of state she presently resided in; that was the most of it. I felt confident of her state, as I certainly hadn't that first time I'd met her within Tobias's quarters at the palace. "That I should have liked to witness Lox's end. But as for the rest... Akadia has been too much my home, to like to witness it attacked."
"We were lucky for how many survived," I said, still staring out. "Many of Lox's men turned in the end."
"Yes, I've heard one of your kinsmen betrayed him."
I smiled a little, at the thought of Slark. I'd hardly gotten a chance to speak with him; it seemed always, as if he were avoiding me. And he kept constant vigil in the healer's tents, so that I wondered whether he were concerned after those Akadians which had served under him after all. The one time that we'd spoken, he'd said that he'd always thought of Lox as evil, and at the sight of us, hadn't minded at all, doing what he could. He said he'd done it in part for me, and he'd said that he wanted to be present when I returned to Shaundakul. He'd said that he would help me, that he'd learned much of his father's duties, as noble, and judge.
To think that Slark should be a great part in the rebuilding of Shaundakul, in itself (and that that was possibly one of my most acceptable prospects) was a burdensome thing. And yet I'd found that he'd been more pleasant to come around then ever he had been for me. Still, when I thought of him, I remembered those days of being left with him, while Cyric had gone away; I remembered those things he'd said of following under the better man.
"It wasn't for our country, I think, that he turned away from Lox. Or even for his evilness, but for my second friend. Cyric."
Amalia pressed her lips. I'd glanced to look at her. I did not have trouble, now to speak of Cyric with her. I did not feel the weight of him having wronged her. I'd felt more certain than ever, that moment after Cole had killed Lox: that it had been Lox who'd hurt Tobias; that he'd been responsible, and to think that he was ended, there was a justice there, that healed the death of Tobias in part. I had no doubt, that if not for him, events would never have been set in motion to stop Lox. It was his fighting and hope for Akadia, which saved it. He'd always been the one to see what it could be.
My breath caught short. "Cole, asked... that I should tell you that he meant to kill Lox for you, and Lucian, and Tobias."
"Yes, Ellia, you have told me as much."
"I have?"
"When you first saw me. And after, you have told me."
"Oh..." I spoke. I watched back at the water. The furnaces, had once been beneath there, but even those had been so damaged in the attack, that they would need to be rebuilt; the river of flames had been cooled by the water. The other tunnels of Akadia, beneath the city, those had survived, blocked away from the water. They would still be used for mining, but my people were not longer kept there to work.
"How is he?" Amalia asked.
"Hmm?"
"Cole," she clarified. "Your Kanthian? He's healing well? He was with the healer's, wasn't he?"
"Oh,... yes," I answered. "He still is. He was badly injured by my... by the dragon, but... he's supposed to be better in time for the coronation. I mean for him to come along at least."
Here, Amalia adapted a smile. Though I couldn't tell whether it was humored, or warm, or to hide a sort of pain.
Taiper, that was the name of the boy who was to be coroneted. After the conclusion of the battle, there'd been of course, thousands of Akadians, (made up as much from other countries as born from the city itself) come forward, that
were not soldiers at all; not to mention those soldiers which had surrendered. There was yet to be any opposition to Lox's end of power, but within those survivors, there had been many of the old council and nobles of Akadia. Within that, were those, most loyal to Molec, even one I had seen with him in his chamber that day when he'd called me in on my own. He hadn't been lost in the attack on the palace. And he, among others, had known of more than one lady or handmaiden, who'd birthed a son for Molec.
There were... quite a few of them, thus far—and almost all confirmed by appeasing servants, or residents of the palace—so that Lucian was sure never to be short of brothers again. But the eldest, was called Taiper, and he was thirteen in age. He had ruddy hair, like Molec's, Lucian's and Tobias's—though perhaps leaning more towards that darker tone of Tobias's. His mother was a palace servant—or had been, and had afterwards served nobles. He had a watchfulness about him; he'd known of his father, since the start; even lived close with him those years up until he'd died, as Tobias had.
He was still too young to rule, but the others were far behind him in years, so left to those councilmembers of Akadia, and those rulers of the other kingdoms which had come to fight Akadia (myself included) we'd decided that he would be the one to lead Akadia, with the help of his brother. At least until a support for him, of trusted councilmembers could be assembled.
"So, how does Lucian feel about staying on in Akadia, then?" I asked Amalia.
She laughed short. "He seems to mind it at times, but only long enough until someone asks him one question or another about what is to be done with this crumbled down building, or where this or that should be moved, or how the survivors should be organized. He's distracted then, constantly, into directing along with it."
"He wants Akadia to be as it was," I followed.
"He wants it to be as his brother, saw it, I think," she replied. Then, after a pause. "Or perhaps, it's that he has something of his brother in him, when it comes to Akadia. Taiper has that too, so I think... that he should make a good king, if he is guided well. In any case... he seems less whimsy than his father was."
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