“There is no other option but war now, Symphony. They took that choice away when they captured the city,” Remedy said with a sadness in his voice that echoed her own. “With the Blights only hitting our side though, I don’t see how we can win. We are already so weak before it has even begun,” he added with a sigh.
“That’s why I say the end of everything. We will fight and we will lose. I see no other way. We are drastically low on power right now and we have to focus on the Blights rather than the enemies we need to be watching,” Symphony whispered so only he would hear. It wouldn’t do for those getting ready to fight in her name to hear her speaking this way.
“You don’t know that yet. Our enemy doesn’t have the unity that we do. There is a slim chance that they will turn on each other before this is over,” Remedy offered, though he didn’t hold much hope in his voice.
She shook her head slightly and sighed again. “They will tear each other apart over our corpses, but not before then. They are too close to victory now and they know it. In another three months our contracts of peace with the mercenaries end, and I don’t think either Kithvaryn or Graves will renew them with so much profit to be made by killing us instead.”
“Things could change. Do not give up before we have begun,” Remedy urged and draped an arm across her shoulders.
She looked up at him gratefully and smiled. It was the most contact he had offered in days. Leaning her head against his shoulder, she inhaled deeply and nodded. “I’m sorry, I should have more faith. I know how good the warriors before me are and I should offer them the respect they deserve, not condemn them to failure. Not all our allies are out of the game yet either. We still have Oblivion, Firym, and Merrodin.” The last she added with a heavy heart. They had planned on a vote from Jala and nothing more. The girl had no resources or power beyond a voice at the council. If it came to war, Symphony knew Merrodin would be a casualty.
“I don’t think any of them heard you speaking of failure and I swear to not repeat it to them,” Remedy said quietly, his voice going oddly soft at the last.
Symphony squeezed his hand and smiled up at him. “I know you won’t, Remmy. I never worry about talking to you. I know you hold my secrets and keep them safe,” she assured him and went back to watching Lutheron.
A cold feeling was settling in her stomach as the preparations grew closer to an end. It took her a moment to identify the emotion as dread. It wasn’t something she was used to feeling. With war looming though, she knew it would be a constant companion from now on. Without thinking, she squeezed Remmy’s hand again. Between his friendship and Faramir’s advice, it might be enough to keep her sanity intact through the trials ahead.
*
Shade watched Remedy quietly and smiled as he noticed him in conversation with Symphony. He had been too quiet since his return to Fionahold and Shade took it as a very good sign to see him talking now. Turning his attention back to the crowd around him he studied the tall man near Lutheron. He couldn’t quite place the man’s Bloodline, but he was Elder Blood.
He remembered seeing the man at the council meeting he had attended. He had been dressed as a noble then. Now he stood in polished black armor that seemed sculpted onto his wiry frame. There didn’t even seem to be seams to the armor. It looked as though someone had coated the man in molten metal and smoothed it over his flesh.
By just clothing standards they seemed two different people. The man at the council had seemed slight and refined rather than wiry and intimidating. The hair and eyes were unmistakable though, and he had no doubt that this was the same man from the meeting in the darkened room. No one else he knew had hair that color of grey. It wasn’t the salt and pepper that came with age but rather a solid color like polished steel. His eyes were what held Shade’s attention, though. He had thought they were black at first, but when the light had struck them he had realized they were dark purple. The color reminded him of Jala’s, though hers were a lighter shade, closer to violet than purple.
His attention moved past the man’s features to the leather harness that crossed his chest. Several daggers hung from it across his chest and four swords were attached in the back. He could see two ornate sword hilts pointing up above his shoulders and two that hung upside down with the hilts just barely visible near his hips. He wore a standard sword belt as well with two more swords hanging from it. It seemed beyond excessive to Shade and he couldn’t fathom why the man needed to carry six swords as well as, only the Aspects knew, how many daggers.
“Hey, Charm,” he said softly. The rogue was lounging nearby, leaning against a wall with a sprig of dry grass dangling from his mouth. He raised an eyebrow in question at Shade’s voice and turned to regard him with pale grey eyes. Shade grinned at the relaxed posture. It was rather nice to see Charm when he wasn’t screaming in anger or terror. “Can you tell me why that guy looks like a living weapon tree?” he asked, motioning discreetly toward the man.
“That’s Vaze,” Charm replied around the grass stem as if that explained everything. He started to look away but Shade waved a hand to hold his attention.
“That doesn’t explain it to me, Charm. I’m new here, remember. I don’t know who Vaze is,” Shade said with a shrug.
“That is Lutheron’s protégé. He carries all of those weapons because he fights with all of those weapons. It is truly a spectacle to behold, but then you will get a chance to see him in action. We are in his strike force,” Charm explained and started to turn away again. “He is also Jala’s Uncle from what I understand from the quiet whispers,” he added, almost as an afterthought.