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The intruder stopped striking her brother and turned to look at her, a sliver of light cutting across his face. Iris recognized him. It was one of Dacre’s men. Val.
I just killed him.
YEAH YOU DID! 👏
Iris bent to take the flute and the key, amidst Forest’s protests. “Don’t, Iris!” She didn’t answer, her fingers closing over the key. She reached for the sword next, and before Forest could demand any further answers from her, she spoke first.
Dacre didn’t heal their lingering wounds. He didn’t mask their pain and wipe their memories again, forcing them to start anew. He fed them to his monsters.
“I thought more people I knew would refuse to kneel to Dacre, but I suppose I was wrong.” Attie shrugged, but Iris could tell how hurt and sad she was. “Sometimes,” Iris began, “I don’t think we know what we’re made of until the worst moment possible happens. Then we must decide who we truly are and what is most important to us. I think we’re often surprised by what we become.”
This reminds me so much of what is happening with Trump and the other Republicans right now.
And yet they were all connected by their decision to stay.
“Now I see all those moments prepared you for this one. I’m proud of you, sweetheart. Be careful.”
Some scars might fade in time, but others never would.
Even then, Forest never let go of her hand.
This feels like a final goodbye 😭
She still had Val’s flute in her pocket, alongside the key, the ball of wax, and now three blueberry scones. All important items to carry on a death mission below.
She left a crumb of scone on the ground every time she and Attie made a turn, so they could find their way back.
It was easier and harder than she had expected. Easy, because the sword cut through bone and sinew as if Dacre were nothing more than a cobweb. And hard, because another bruise formed on her heart, marked by the killing.
“Why would they be coming out and firing at people? At a time like this, after what we just survived?” Helena raked her fingers through her hair. “Because the chancellor’s dead. A god is also dead, if the rumors are true.” She noticed the ichor stains on Iris’s clothes. “They’re rounding up Dacre’s soldiers. To execute them.”
She came between Roman and the rifle just as gunshots cracked through the air.
She was broken by what could have been. By what now would never be.
Not one name but two, close together as if linked by invisible threads.
😭
She hadn’t understood why she had waited so long to spread Forest’s ashes, but now she did. She had been waiting for his words. For his letter to find its way into her hands.
“Keep writing. You will find the words you need to share. They are already within you, even in the shadows, hiding like jewels. —C.” I look forward to the next chapter. The one you will write in your story,
With her harp in hand and magic gathering at her fingertips, Enva vanished into the dark.
Magic: The Gathering lol
