Page 79

Elowynn looked down at the unfinished letter, her face pulling into something that was akin to melancholy. Silence stretched between them for several breaths.

Then softly, Lora asked, “Still thinking about the execution?”

The words felt as heavy as stones, and Elowynn could only nod.

Neither of them spoke again for a few long moments, both having turned their attention to the windows. Snow whispered against the glass, clinging for a single breath, before melting from the warmth penetrating through.

Lora exhaled in a slow huff. “I know it was awful—”

“No,” Elowynn interrupted.

Lora blinked at the sharp tone and turned to look at her.

Elowynn stared at the ink staining her fingertips. “You know what I think is the worst part of all of that?” she asked in a whisper before lifting her sapphire eyes to look solemnly at Lora.

“Everyone believed they were right,” she hissed.

Lora sat frozen in her chair, her eyes wide and sad. She didn’t reply.

“They were not openly cruel. No one celebrated it or seemed pleased.” A knot formed in her throat and she forced it down. “They were frightened, Lora. Everyone there thought it was right to execute a boy. A scared, malnourished boy who had probably just been trying to survive. Why? Because they were afraid!” Elowynn’s voice had risen in her ire and turmoil. “They were afraid of something they didn't understand, believing the legends of old about Nulls instead of making any sort of attempt to understand them!”

Lora’s expression shuttered at hearing Elowynn’s rage and pain, and she fixed her attention back out the window.

Tears fell freely down Elowynn’s cheeks now, and she wiped them away angrily. When next she spoke, it was whispered.

“That’s what I cannot stop thinking about. Because frightened people justify terrible things.”

History had proven it time and again.

The Great Vigil.

The Ash Wars.

Null purges.

Collapsed observatories sealed with scholars still inside.

Civilization survived through sacrifice, but sacrifice always demanded someone be chosen. And now she understood with horrifying clarity what would happen if Caelyn were ever discovered.

That thought destroyed her.

Lora let out a slow breath before she turned to look at Elowynn. Then she leaned forward, meeting Elowynn’s eyes.

“Elowynn… what… who… are you afraid for?” She looked down at the unfinished letter. Reaching over the desk, she tapped her finger to it. “It is him?”

The question pierced too close to her heart, and she turned away toward the snow-covered city beyond the windows.

Elowynn refused to answer. She would protect Caelyn at all costs.

Far below, Veylspire glowed through the lightly falling snow and the ever-present resonance haze. Lanterns shimmered across the bridges like scattered stars while the immense central towers disappeared into clouds above.

Beautiful. Ancient.

Dangerous.

“I found something unusual beneath the eastern archives,” she admitted on a breath after a long silence.

Lora sat back in her chair and groaned. “Absolutely not.”