Reality bends, the past rewriting itself in real time. But she needs to keep going.
“So what… you just chose to do the same thing… only quicker?” she bites.
“I chose to preserve what could survive long enough to fight back. I chose to put the Starborn behind a Barrier until…” he trails off.
“Until what?” Elyssara snaps.
He sucks his teeth.
“Untilyou. Until you enacted the prophecy. Until you realized who you are.”
The words settle. Messy. Scrappy. Jagged. But… understood.
And that is the worst part.
Not that he is wrong.
That she can see exactly how he got here.
“But you’ve been importing threvenar from Zerynthia. You’ve been rewriting our history,” Elyssara accuses, though her voice wobbles, less sure of herself.
Thalmyr shakes his head, frustrated. “So Ilyra couldn’t have it! Maldrak sold it to the highest bidder. I was simply trying to keep it out of her hands. Ilyra’s Shades intercepted it, of course. Held it in their reserves… but that won’t last forever. They’ll come for Zerynthia next.”
Elyssara inhales slowly, her chest tightening despite herself. No matter how noble he makes the intention sound, the outcome is always the same.
“The Starborn army,” she says. “That was your solution?”
His gaze flicks to her again, sharper now.
“That was myonlyoption.”
He steps forward—not aggressively, but with intent.
“An army that could survive what is coming,” he says. “Not children. Not citizens.Weapons. So that’s what I made them.”
He does not flinch. Does not balk at his own callousness. And his eyes land on Calira. She lifts her chin, like she’s proud of being his weapon.The Crown’s Blade.
“You think conscription was about power?” he asks. “About control? About taking children from their families?” Ahumorless breath leaves him. “It was about building something that could stand against her.”
The room stills.
Elyssara’s eyes narrow. “Nyrielle.”
Something shifts. There. A crack.
Thalmyr’s expression darkens, something old and bitter surfacing beneath the control.
“She is not Nyrielle anymore,” he says.
“Then what is she?” Elyssara presses.
His answer is quiet.
“Something that should never have existed.”
Silence.
“I loved her,” he breathes. “And I was not enough to save her from what she became. She was everything the history books told you—she was light and wonder. She was magnetic and beautiful. That was until…” he trails off, dragging his hand down his lined face.
