He always seemed so strong, full of life. Like nothing would topple him. But now, encased in the blanket he’d procured for me earlier today, it was like the spell of his strength unraveled. There were deep circles under his eyes, so purple they were nearly black. His normally tanned, olive skin was sallow and wan. A slight sheen of sweat beaded at his brow while blood pooled under his nose and in his ears. His hair was a chaotic mess, and his emerald eyes were duller—still full of deep intelligence and emotion but muted somehow.
But worse than his physical appearance was the light that seemed to leave him.
Gone was the confident, borderline cocky, second-in-command.
Gone was the grumpy General who could barely say two words to me.
In his place was a man completely drained—mentally, physically, emotionally, and I suspected, spiritually. He was fighting a losing battle with Mage Sickness and was losing his best friend in the process.
I couldn’t even imagine what was happening in the chaos of his mind.
Rohak sighed heavily as he ran a hand over the short stubble on his jaw.
“I won’t bore you with all of the minor details, but essentially, Alois is going to crown himself King of Elyria.”
“What?!” I practically jumped out of my chair at his declaration. “That’s—that’s—” Rohak held his palm up to halt my tirade and I clamped my jaw shut, settling back into my chair.
“Preposterous and a serious overreach of power, yes,” he agreed. “But, in the eyes of the Northern Territories, he has justification. The gods are moving north, burning cities as they go. It’s rumored they’re heading here. In an effort to stop them, Alois is going to consolidate power”—he sighed heavily—“I don’t think it’s going to work, but there really isn’t anything I can do to stop him, short of removing him.”
“He’s going to warn the southernmost cities, right?” I asked, and Rohak rolled his lips, avoiding eye contact. “Right?”
He shook his head once, and I scoffed. “Figures.”
“Apparently that needs to be kept a secret for now.”
“It won’t be a secret much longer when a line of refugees a mile long starts traveling toward Vespera,” I snarked, and he nodded his head.
“Agreed. But he threatened to imprison anyone who leaks this information when I insinuated that the people needed to know so they could flee.”
I wrinkled my nose in disgust. “So he’s sacrificing his own people because? What? He read a vision.”
“More or less,” Rohak admitted quietly, and I shook my head.
“He’s repulsive.”
Rohak said nothing, but I saw a flash of agreement in his eyes.
At least I don’t have to be disgusted with him, too.
“So now what?” I asked, and Rohak shrugged.
“He’s taking the youngest cadets on a field mission to Cellia, where the gods first attacked. I’ll be staying here to coordinate the refugee efforts. Find them jobs, enroll some of the more promising Mages and Vessels in the Academy. That sort of thing. And he insisted that I Bond a Vessel from the next exchange with Samyr.”
The room buzzed, heavy with silence, the only noises the crackling of the now low-burning fireplace and the padding of the chairs as Rohak or I adjusted our position. There was nothingtosay after Rohak’s story—no words of platitudes or comfort that I could offer.
To say I was incensed on Rohak’s behalf was an understatement. Lord d’Refan always claimed to love Rohak as a brother, but it was clear, now, that it was all lip service. Rohak—like everyone and everything else in Elyria—was a pawn in the Warlord’s games.
I couldn’t wrap my head around his threats and, if I was feeling this confused and frustrated, I could only imagine the competing emotions Rohak was experiencing.
“Tell me about your research,” he intoned in that emotionless voice again, clearly masking as deeply as possible.
But part of me needed his emotions. Needed to know that he was going to be okay—that he wasn’t going to do something drastic in response.
“Rohak,” I whispered, my voice cracking on his name. The General refused to look at me, just waved a hand shakily in my direction.
“I’m fine, Faylinn. Just tired,” he said, eyes closing slightly with his words. “Tell me about your research. I need something to distract my thoughts.”
I chewed my lip in thought, the burns on my hand throbbing now that the healing balm was wearing off, before nodding my head reluctantly.
