I scream in pain.
The duplicate rips the blade free, blood spurting everywhere.
Eragon smiles with glee.
“There,” he murmurs. “Much better.”
Cold dread floods me. He did not just steal my shadows. He stole everything that makes meme—my movements, my instincts, my idiosyncrasies. I am fighting in a body that no longer feels entirely mine.
The duplicates descend again. This time I fare worse—much,muchworse.
A blade opens my ribs. A kick caves into my knee. Another strike catches me across the temple and momentarily shatters my vision.
I collapse against the base of a broken pillar, barely breathing.
Eragon disperses the duplicates with a flick of his hand and begins walking toward me, slow and unhurried, his boots echoing through the ruined cathedral like a funeral toll.
“You have talent,” he says. “Enough to become noteworthy, perhaps. Dangerous, in time.” He crouches before me, gaze cold and pitiless. “But talent means very little when still raw.”
He places one hand against my chest.
Shadow gathers there, dense and violent.
“Consider this mercy,” he says softly. He drives his power forward.
This is it. The final blow.
With all the strength I can muster, I glance toward the barrier where Moe is. For one singular moment, our gazes meet. Time stills.
My eyes become drenched in tears—or is it blood? Still, I do my best to look at her, to convey to her through my gaze what I can no longer do through words.
I’m sorry.
I should have done better
I shouldn’t have dragged you into this mess with me.
It’s…all my fault.
In that one second, my entire life seems to flash behind my eyes. The rejection I felt growing up, the loneliness of my formative years…until her.
I love you.
If there’s anything I can leave behind, even when my soul evaporates and ceases to exist, it’s my love for her.
I wish for that emotion to burst out of my chest and gain its own existence so it can continue to live on even when I no longer am.
I love you, Moe. And thank you. Without you, this last year would have been just as bleak as the previous ones. Without you, I would have gone on to believe that the entire world hates me.
You showed me for the first time what it means to be accepted… to be loved. You taught mehowto love.
I stare at her, pain stronger than any blow reverberating through my soul.
I am so, so sorry.
Because of me… Because I am not strong enough, she is about to die, too. And I cannot accept that.
I am negligible. It doesn’t really make any difference to the world if I live or not. But she still has so much left to offer, so many more years left to live, to experience the world.
