Of Empires and Dust (The Bound and The Broken, #4)

by Ryan Cahill

“We’ll never know the outcomes of the decisions we do not make.

Now all we need to do is wait for Belina Louna to give us the signal that the gates have been opened.” “She’s going to set something on fire, isn’t she?” “Something big,” Alina answered. “That sounds like her,” Aeson said, folding his arms.

The gemstone called to him, urged him to breathe inwards, to capture the wisp of life that flowed from the dead Lorian. He pushed the voice down. I am stronger than you.

House Koraklon will not just die, it will never have existed.”

“A man should not simply wish to live. He should wish to live in a way that he deems to be right,”

“It is my soul that will bear the weight of every life I take. My soul. Not yours. I will fight for you, as I always have. I will stand against The Shadow, as I always have. I am a warrior, I am your warrior, but I am not your executioner.

He stood by the decision he had made and knew it was a decision he would have to make again. But that didn’t mean the guilt would ever leave his heart.

Whatever rumours and stories spread, I am but one man and Valerys is but a single dragon. I still wish to rip Farda’s heart from his chest, but I will swallow that hate. If it means having you and Avandeer fighting at our side, I will bury my darkest desires, because that is what is required of me.”

at least five different songs were being played by five different bards, and not one of them was as bad as the bard from The Two Barges in Milltown, who had sounded like a drunk man strumming a cat.

“You still smell like cherry blossoms.” As soon as the words left his lips, Calen realised how much of an idiot he was. “I didn’t mean… That was creepy, wasn’t it? I’m sorry, I…”

“It’s really good to see you, Calen.” She gave him a broad smile. “You look taller.” “It’s the boots.”

Tarmon stepped forwards, but before he could do anything, Dann came striding from nowhere and slammed his fist into Thannon’s face.

yes! go Dann!

“Did you have to hit him so hard?” Erdhardt asked, standing next to Tarmon. “I don’t hit soft.”

“I had to trade two kidneys for that.” Garramon raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you need those?” “They weren’t mine.”

“I am pleased you think so, Exarch Kalinim. You put great care into these. Someone special?” Garramon nodded. “My son.”

🥺

All cruel men were cowards at heart. A fear of their own pain led them to inflict it on others.

“Do you find there is power in a name, Emperor Mortem?” Fane looked at Rist with a raised eyebrow. “I only ask because you used mine four times.”

He would not be remembered in the books and stories. He would be the only Rist Havel, and he would be remembered in the hearts and the minds of the people who knew him, the people he saved, and the people he loved.

“It will give her the truth. What more is there?” “The truth for truth’s sake is not always what a person needs.”

The sight of it only made Ella miss Rhett more. Perhaps, if he’d lived, they might have grown apart, or argued, or screamed and roared at each other, and that would have been fine. Because that was human. They would have gotten through it; they would have gotten through anything. But he’d had to go and leave her alone, and so now all she had were memories of a man who loved her, who was kind and gentle, and selfless, and perfect. And that made her hate him a little bit, because no one else could ever live up to that.

“They were everything. I’d always told myself I didn’t want children. What if they were born without the Spark? There was something dark about that – about the chance that you might live to watch your children be born, to raise them, to bring them up in the world, and then watch them slowly grow old and wither, and then, eventually, lay them into the earth. But the girls, they made me see. To care for a child is a different kind of love… On the darkest days, just one smile from Hana or one laugh from Valyianne, and everything was better. They were joy, and love, and beauty. They were my girls.”

I’d forgotten the reason I was even fighting. I didn’t care – I couldn’t care. Shinyara took everything. But you gave me back my pain. You returned it to me.”

“You let me remember the day my heart broke, and I’m so sorry that I’m the one who broke yours. But… I remember who I was now, and that is your doing whether you knew it or not. You gave me back my pain, Ella Fjorn, and that is a debt I can never repay.”

“Everything you seek lies on the other side of fear,”

Here and there, druids and Angan dropped dead without a blade touching them, and at the centre of it all, two gods collided.

He ran, his entire body feeling as though he’d dropped himself into a lake, his skin cold, veins cold, bones cold. This place did not want him. And yet, there was something more here. As though he were that little bit closer to being whole.

He drew a slow breath, his fingers tightening around the hilt of his sword. In his mind, he pictured Ella standing with her hand on the tree. He would not let any harm come to her. He would be her shield.

I will be the man I was. I will be worthy of her again.

“I thought it would be nice if you finally got a chance to give it to her.”

😭

“The sun will set,” Haem whispered, pressing his hand to the ground beside where Calen had buried the scarf. “And it will rise again, and it will do so the next day and the next. The gods are in charge of such things, but it is by our own will that we pick ourselves up when we fall.”

I love you. I have always loved you. And I will love you until the breaking of time. You are the beating of my heart. You are my goodness and my light. You are my eternity, my constant. I’m sorry I waited so long.

“The mark of the righteous is to rise when you would rather fall, to stand when your legs beg you to kneel.”

“Listen to me, demon. Tell your god I am coming for his soul. He is in my world now. He is not free. He is trapped in this mortal plane with me, and I will have my vengeance for every soul he has torn apart.”

“The Godwar is here, my child. Efialtír has crossed the veil and taken a body of flesh and blood in the mortal world.” “Good,” Kallinvar whispered. “Now I can kill him.”

“Alvira followed the council blindly when she allowed The Order to slowly rot – we all did. And Eltoar and the traitors followed Fane blindly when they butchered their own kin. I am tired of being blind. Blinded by honour, by fate, by vengeance. I wish to see. Do you not?”

“I believe it is time we sit down with this new Draleid and see if a future can be found for our kind in which we don’t tear each other apart.”

yeah, about that...

“I love you, little brother. Please don’t be mad. This was always my purpose. I only ever took the Sigil so I could keep you safe. I love you so much, and I could never be prouder of the man you’ve become.”

You never gave up. Not once. We would train for hours, and no matter how many times you went down, you stood right the fuck back up. Covered in mud, blood on your face. You always stood back up. And I was so gods damn proud of you every time. I need you to stand back up again, little brother.”

Calen dropped to his knees the moment the door was opened, his legs collapsing beneath the weight of his shattered heart.

“Where are you taking him?” “Home.”

I am proud of you. I am proud of everything you have accomplished and everything you have overcome. You are a special soul.

And please, for the love of all things sacred, use the bookmark.

😭😂

I would keep writing this letter until time broke, because I know that when I put the pen down, I will never speak to you again. And so, I keep writing, because our talks were the greatest happiness I’ve had in a long time.

And so now I put the pen down, and I walk towards the only honourable thing I’ve done in a very long time. Magnus will always be there for you. Remember that.

People – they are what’s important, lad. And when you live long enough, you learn to choose your people carefully.

“Me?” “No, the fucking shrub behind you. Of course you. Where are we going, Rist?”

His brothers were gone. Without them he was not whole.

“It is the moon that gives the stars permission to shine,” Vaeril whispered. “Calen showed me who I was. Without him… what am I?”

But somehow he knew. It was the moon that dimmed the sun’s light, the moon that dared shine in the face of the greatest fire. The moon inspired the stars to become what they needed to be, to light the way.

Calen was a symbol them, a symbol of hope and change, a symbol of strength, but he was not their brother.