The Light of All That Falls (The Licanius Trilogy, #3)

by James Islington

“Every time our lives touch yours, Tal’kamar, we are left poorer. And every time, it seems that we have no choice. You are always the lesser of two evils. But never by much.”

All beings are made up of a series of choices; if those choices are not our own, then who are we? Why fight to keep a version of yourself that is nothing more than a character in a play, reciting lines written by someone else?”

“It’s not enough to fight for the right side. You have to figure out how to fight the right way, too. If winning is truly all that matters, then we’ve lost sight of what’s actually right and wrong in the first place.”

“Remember that your past does not define you—no matter the consequences,” he said gently. “Choice is meaningless without consequences, and a privilege we do not deserve if we will not face them. You are facing them, Tal’kamar. You have changed.” He hesitated. “I can speak only for myself,” he added, emotion choking his voice. “But I want you to know—because I do not believe I have ever said it out loud. I do forgive you. I will always hate what you did. But I do forgive you.” He smiled at Tal’s suddenly emotional expression. “Just remember that I am not the one whose forgiveness is important.”

She steeled herself. Tapped her Reserve. The ground began to tremble.

He wept. He wept for his friend. He wept at the unfairness of it all. Alaris had been right in so many ways: it was wrong that he’d been forced to do this, wrong that events were unfolding as they were. This, all of this, felt like a nightmare from which he desperately wanted to wake.

There was no exultation, no sense of triumph. Just mourning for those they had lost, and… relief. Pure, blessed relief, the release of a tension that had been with them all for far, far too long. “It’s over.” Davian whispered the words in her ear; whether they were for her or for him she didn’t know, but they were a comfort nonetheless. “It’s over.” “It’s over,” she repeated, holding him tight. There was more to do, she knew. More to face in the coming days, probably the coming years. But now—right now—all she cared about was that he was there with her. He was safe. She huddled with the other two, weeping with joy and grief and that overwhelming sense of utter, utter relief. The bright dawn settled warm against her shoulders, bathing the three of them in its clean light, rays shearing through the space where the city of Deilannis had once been. It was over.

“‘Be the man I aspire to be,’” he murmured eventually. “A friend of mine said that to me, once.”

“Listen to me, Tal’kamar!” snarled Caeden, putting every ounce of urgency and emotion and energy he had left into the words. “You are at fault! You and you alone! You shield yourself from what you’ve done, you justify and justify and justify but you know deep down that it is NOT ENOUGH! For all that you’ve been given, you are fearful and weak and cowardly! For all you have lost, you have not learned! It’s not fate and it’s not love and it was never, ever because you thought that you were doing the right thing! You know this! You know this better than—” “ENOUGH!” Tal’kamar screamed, and as Caeden felt the last of his Essence trickle away he could see that the man before him was lost to his anger now. Blinded by a red haze of enraged denial. It didn’t matter. Eventually, he knew, that man would change. Licanius was out of its sheath. Tal’kamar raised it high. Caeden smiled.

my god. what an ending to this series. hats off, Mr. Islington.