“I’m glad that the Source has blessed me with this final gift,” she continued, gesturing down at my body below. “I have been looking forward to this since the day we first met. To be able to witness you transcend is the greatest honor of my lifetime.”
Of course, this is what she looked forward to. It was selfish of me to believe she wanted otherwise for me. I was her acolyte, after all. She was my teacher. Nothing further. Yet, as I looked upon her, my heart ached as if she were so much more.
Something deep within me fractured, spilling forth words I had held at bay for decades prior.
“I can’t do this, Sancha. Please. I can’t… I can’t lose another mother.”
Sancha paused, her stony demeanor cracking for a fleeting moment as she stared at me. The woman who commanded the greatest respect, who could silence a room with a mere glance, who managed to best an entity as powerful as the Umbral at nearly every turn—merely smiled at me. Drifting closer, she reached out both arms, and for a moment, my mind went blank.
What was she doing?
She embraced me, her body lacking the warmth I expected, but I could feel her arms wrap around me, pulling me close. It was the first time she’d ever embraced me in all the years I had been her acolyte. I was stunned into motionless silence, the tears that had threatened to fall streaming down my cheeks, only to lift off into the Ether as shining spheres of twinkling light.
“No matter what happens, Cirian. No matter what the Umbral obliterates, it can never take away how proud I am of you.”
The tears came heavier then, and I clung to her, as if I could keep her from what was coming next with the strength of my embrace.
“This cannot be goodbye.”
“Things are what they are. You know this to be true. The Church will be in your hands now. Even more so when they realize what I’ve done. They will not understand it at first, but I know that you will show them the way.”
“Please, Sancha. I can’t do this without you. I’m not ready.”
She pulled back, holding me at arm’s length so I could stare down into the warm umber of her eyes. “You’ll have the Source with you always. It will serve as your guide when necessary. But you already know the way. We’ve talked about it at great length, over countless cups of tea. The Church has stagnated, and rot has come from within to poison the minds of those whocling to its power. You can make it right. You can repair what has been broken.”
“Not on my own. I need you, Sancha. Please, there must be another way.”
Sancha laughed, her eyes crinkling at the edges in a rare display. “Come now, Cirian. You’re a better liar than that.”
She believed in me so much that she would stake the entirety of the Church on my ability to lead. It was enough to make me want to wretch. But there was a comfort there, too. Sancha was never one for flattery. Her words were brutal and honest. So, if she said these things about me, it was because to her, they were truth.
I wanted to ask more, to revel in this moment as long as I could. I wanted to keep her with me. But she pulled away, that small, sad smile returning.
“My time is up.”
“Just a moment longer,” I argued, reaching for her again, but she was moving back, towards the looming crystal structure and the miasma that swirled within it.
“My strength is spent. I cannot contain the Umbral any longer. It will come for you, Cirian. And those whom you love. Show it that there are some things that can never be snuffed out.”
“I will.”
“Be well, my child.”
A quick sensation of falling and?—
Fiery strength filled my veins as the world resumed its usual pace. The light had faded from Azrael’s body, his eyes half-lidded as his legs gave out beneath him, the tether between us dissolving in an instant.
Bastien reached him first, leaning down to help the dazed Azrael to his feet once more. Horrid burns swirled along the Unseen’s arms, angry patches of scarlet skin that trailed upfrom wrist to shoulder. I moved for them first, each step feeling lighter than the last as the Source’s blessing took root in my body.
The two of them moved as quickly as they could toward me and away from the swirling abyss that inhabited the crystalline structure. Bastien's eyes widened as they neared me.
“Let me see,” I ordered, pulling the scorched sleeves of Azrael’s shirt away from the burns. Any blood had burned along with the flesh, leaving dark blotches along his otherwise smooth skin. I reached for my magic, but it was already waiting for me, jumping to my hands before I could even form the words of the incantation. The burns on Azrael’s skin receded until they vanished completely, leaving blemish-free flesh in their wake. Azrael’s eyes fluttered open, hazy at first, then focused on me and the missing wounds. Then he lunged forward, wrapping me in an embrace.
“I’m glad the pain didn’t crush you,” he muttered into my ear.
“Um, thanks?”
Bastien watched me still, questions burning behind his golden eyes.
