Then she drifts off in thought, her nose scrunching. “I’ve always thought Dravara to be quite… disgusting. Rats—the lot of them. An infestation, if you will. I want the Starborn army eliminated, and the people can stay.” She waves an arm dismissively. As if the people are inconsequential.
Then she shrugs. “Who will labor if there are no people?”
Lara nods, taking in her words.
Mulling them over as if they hold answers she didn’t know she was looking for.
“Understood,” Lara says tightly.
Nyrielle studies her for a moment longer, as though weighing whether the answer is sufficient, then turns her attention back to the slow orbit of the Memory Orbs above them.
“You’ve done well,” she says, almost absently. “Better than I expected, if I’m being honest. Loyalty is a rare commodity. Competence even more so.”
Lara inclines her head slightly, accepting the statement without reacting to it. Though a truth lodges in her throat: it sounds like something Lara would say. And she’s not sure how she feels about that.
“I deliver what I’m paid for.”
“Yes,” Nyrielle murmurs, a faint smile touching her mouth. “And you will be paid well for it.”
Her gaze flicks back to Lara, sharper now, more deliberate.
“Nymeris has no shortage of land,” she continues. “Once this is done, you will have your claim. Territory of your own. Authority. Independence.” A pause. “Something more… permanent than coin.”
Lara nods tightly, taking it all in.
Nyrielle smiles again. “Glassmere Lake and Scholars Spine are extraordinary parts of Nymeris. Claim one when this is all said and done. Your choice.”
It should feel like a reward, but it lands like control. Like a way to silence and lord over the witches. Lara’s fingers tighten slightly behind her back, though her expression doesn’t shift.
“And Dravara—what of them?” she asks, as if clarifying nothing more than logistics.
Nyrielle exhales softly, already bored by the subject.
“I’ve told you,” she says. “The Starborn are the problem—threats. Remove them, and the rest becomes manageable.” Her lip curls faintly. “They’ve hidden behind their magic and their Starsdamned Barrier for too long, convincing themselves they’re something more than what they are. They forget how easily power can be stripped from them.”
“But not the Earthbound?” Lara presses, her tone still even.
Nyrielle waves a hand again, dismissive.
“They remain. They always do. People are… adaptable.” A faint, almost amused tilt of her head. “They survive whatever they’re given, no matter how poor the conditions. It’s one of their more useful qualities. They really can survive on so little.”
The words settle into the space between them. As though people surviving suffering somehow made the suffering acceptable instead of evidence of cruelty.
Lara lets them sit there.
Feels the weight of them.
But Seren’s words echo through her mind.
Paid. Sheltered. Untouched by consequences while the rest of us bleed for the world you helped shape.
Lara sucks her teeth.
“Useful,” she repeats quietly.
Nyrielle nods. “Of course. A world without Earthbound has no value. Power requires something to be exercised over.” She glances back at the Orbs, then to Lara again. “You don’t burn the field if you intend to harvest it.”
Something in Lara’s chest tightens. She’s not sure what it is, but it doesn’t budge. Just sits there under her skin like a parasite.
