7.4 The Strength of Living Things

General Summary

Day 74

The blinding humanoid is a nightmare to fight. It pulses with waves of light that sear my skin and hurls spears of pure light strong enough to go through a body entirely. Just from the ritual of drawing it out, my hands are damaged to the point of clumsiness with both my spells and sword.   Bran and Alder both take heavy hits, leaving them on the brink of death multiple times as Nienne and I try to jab and parry with delicate blades.   Standing over Nidrae’s unconscious form, I can feel that whatever burning presence was inside him has separated completely, and this furiously bright creature is its own being.   I have thoughts about these human gods and what they might be like, to let something like this exist. It is inimical to life itself, not just the shade-sheltered elves but to Bran and Hella, both humans who live in the light.   But Bran spoke kindly of the Candlemaker and the warm safety of his light. I have heard the Empress speak of a time before she knew love, and before she defended her chosen people with that love. Many weeks ago I concluded that bright light casts deep shadows, and it was clear to me that there would always be room for both.   This creature with a spear of light that casts no shade? If it is a divine construct, it is not of the god that the priests had thought. I grasp at the pearl hung around my neck and plunge into the story of its creation - where it came from, and how it got here.   The rush of knowledge is intense, but it is still a welcome relief from the burning across my skin. I see Nidrae suspended on fish-hooks above magical flames for days without rest, the fire burning out any shadow in his heart and setting his being on fire. The pain and hatred seared a conscious curse into him - one that would cause him constant pain to prevent a new oath from inhabiting him. Now the manifestation of that curse has separated from him, and he is free.   The battle becomes a retreat - Bran carrying Nidrae as we run, leaving the creature momentarily frozen in Kadia’s ice. As it chases us, Bran collapses and the rest of us turn to fight. I can see it weakening, but everyone else is on the verge of collapse as well. Safe behind my ward and the resilience that a blood sorcerer has to have, I try to shield the others as Nienne and I flank it together.   “If you die, all of this ends. Run.” Alder tells me, a sworn sword indeed. Kadia, in Hella’s body, agrees, telling me to make their sacrifice count.   There is the barest flicker of doubt in my mind. To leave them here would be unthinkable. But to have sent Dal and Thalien and Lyssa here without me seems unthinkable as well. Are these lives just more sacrifices that I must make so that when the moment is right, I can force someone else to feel the pain that has ripped through my body every time I walk away from someone?   No. The flash of their lives burning out wouldn’t remove the obstacle of this creature even if I was willing to run. We are all held to what we’ve sworn to do - Alder to protect me no matter the cost, and me to be the arbiter of sacrifices.   I step further into the light and growl at him, “I’m stronger than you and that is why I stay,”   By some miracle of fate, it is this fury that flows through my blade and extinguishes the burning creature, leaving us standing in the blessedly cooling air.   The urge to collapse and press my burning skin to the cool stones is so strong, but I fight it back. All of our focus must be on Nidrae and Bran, who is truly hovering on the edge of death.   Stumbling, we take them to the temple of the Weaver, where the guards let us in immediately when they see our wounded companions. We are seen by a priestess who looks over Nidrae and Bran, before turning to us with the sort of neutral face that you show to people whose grief you are not willing to partake in.   “I see the Fisherman’s hand in this, and I cannot work against him. The Fisherman calls us all,” she says, and offers us several vials that will either ease the pain of passing or do some small amount of healing. She leaves us to our choices.   It is not so much a choice, as an obvious course of action. Even without Bran’s magic, none of these wounds are unhealable. Whatever hooks she sees are not divine and untouchable! As always, the presence of elves may have tipped the balance.   And like so many times before, I slip into the dreaming and find Bran waiting for me.   “I told you she would come for you,” Thalien says,   I am so relieved to find Thalien here, because I know he will ask Bran to do things I could never ask. To come back to the waking world and face the pain that wracks his body is not something I will demand of him. He seems so delicate here, shaken from the pain of that burning light and the inability to escape it.   He feels weak, like the strength he has relied on for so long has left him. Nidrae must have lived with that pain for years and Bran wants to fade from existence to avoid it. When I remind him of the strength that the human race has shown in their tenacity and determination in this new land, he tells me he doesn’t want human strength. He wants a better world.   I can see how tempting it is for him to stay here, with Thalien, safe.   “Is this the only path?” he asks, and Thalien gently smacks him upside the head for asking a question like that. There are so many choices present all around us - to stay here and guide me from the safety of the dreaming, to return and continue travelling with me, to return and settle in the Keep to be a Maker of Things and not a Fatespinner...even to return and walk away...though he doesn’t voice that.   I stay silent. I know that if I speak I will call him back to me and that is not my decision to make.   And then….Lyssa steps out of the dreaming and folds Bran into a hug. It is her turn to be the big sibling in this growing family, Thalien tells her. And then Tira, slowly drifting in towards us from wherever she is, deep inside the Barrier. It’s like looking at a future I can’t dare to hope will exist. Still, I watch silently as Thalien, Lyssa, and Tira very gently tell Bran not to be silly, and that of course he wants to return. We are all deep in the various battles we are fighting alone, but the strength of his newfound family bolsters Bran enough that he is ready to come home.   Tira, with her complex magic, shows Bran how to cast from the dreaming into the waking world and heal his body, so that he can return to something less painful. And then he slips out of the dreaming, and back to wait for me with the rest of our misfit band.   With what little time is left, I drink in the time with Tira and Lyssa (I assume Thalien will forever be just a step away, now that he has chosen to remain in the dreaming). Tira and I will likely meet long before I get to Lyssa, and that is just as well. Apparently we will need Tira’s help, and her allies, to make it to the Valley of Storms. Alwen had told me that Tira was negotiating with the Kindred, so I can only assume that her allies will be very powerful indeed.   And then we return to the waking world, where Bran is breathing easily, completely unharmed. He heals Nidrae’s burns as well, leaving him unharmed except for the missing ear and eye. His magic feels like Tira’s, and I catch just a hint of Thalien’s magic towards the end.   The evening finds us collapsed together in my bed, with Alder keeping watch in the same room. For as long as possible, I want them all in my sight, and preferably within reach.