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

by James Islington

“Asar once told me that they did it because nothing is truly beautiful unless it can be lost,” said Caeden idly as he gazed out over the rubble. “We forget that sometimes, Alaris.”

Had he killed someone whom he would come to respect, to love? And had Davian come back, said those things and accepted death itself, because he’d known that his words would stick in Caeden’s mind like needles? Prick at him day in and day out until he finally took action—did exactly what he was doing right now?

She had only ever inserted herself into this conflict—violently manipulated the political and social landscape of an entire country, ruining the lives of thousands upon thousands of Andarrans—because while she wanted the rift closed just as badly as Caeden did, she was also desperate to stop him from killing himself.

??? And? I dont care if she's a villain, i have to love her. Not what she did to Asha tho. That sucked.

her belief that eventually he would end up with her, had never fallen anything short of obsession.

God forbid a woman has a hobby

“The old saying is wrong, you know,” he said eventually. “A common enemy does not a friendship make. You can only ever be as good as the people you are willing to fight beside.

He remembered that—something that had never quite stuck. He’d called her Ell for years in private; it had been the running joke of a child, then his affectionate name for her. But a week before their wedding, she’d brought it up. Told him that as much as she loved their shared history with the epithet, it might be time to start using something less… disrespectful.

Not him giving the love of his life a nickname thats the same name as his god oh my

Faithful people suffer and evil people prosper all the time, Davian—you must know that is true. Besides, if our actions are driven only by reward or punishment—eternal or otherwise—then they are motivated by greed and selfishness, not faith or love. That is where so many people go wrong, even those who say they believe in El. They obey because they think it will make their lives better, rather than themselves. And that is very much the wrong reason.”

“Because it is like… like listening to a piece of music and judging the composer by how skillfully the musician is playing it. The question that needs answering isn’t ever ‘who acts better.’ It is easy to seize upon the worst of groups—but every group is a collection of individuals, and every individual is flawed. Some are contrary, some are outright liars when they say that they believe in something. So every action has to be assessed against what someone claims they believe, not simply seen as a result of it.” He shrugged. “Does that make sense? You should never judge the sides of an argument simply by who is doing the arguing.”

“And he doesn’t just reveal himself, clear up the confusion, because…?” Raeleth shrugged. “Because we’re meant to realize that this is important, and figure it out for ourselves. ‘No decision without doubt,’” he added, clearly quoting something. “El could convince the world in a heartbeat—but if He did, it would no longer be our choice to follow Him. Instead, He enables us to choose Him.”

Our own choices that led to whatever outcome came.” Raeleth shook his head. “But it never sounded right to me. What kind of god would create us and then leave us with no guiding hand, no plan, to the mercies of chance alone? Is a lack of discipline caring? Is absence somehow love? Should a father take his newborn and cast it out into the wild, helpless and alone, all because he does not want to unduly influence its life?”

You enshrine those whom you have lost, whom you have killed. You raise them above the living; their voices drown out all others who try to reason with you. They are your gods.”

Evil men rarely convince others to their side by asking them to perform dark deeds for no good reason. They will always start with the lightest shade of gray. They so often use what seems like a good cause.”

“Gray is the color of cowardice and ignorance and sheer laziness, Davian—never let anyone tell you otherwise. If something is not clearly right or wrong then it bears actually figuring out which one it is, not dismissal into some nebulous third category. If you have a basis for your morality, a foundation for it, then there will always be an answer—and if you do not, then trying to decide whether anything is right or wrong is an exercise in futility and irrelevance.”

“Because hurting someone is not teaching them a lesson, Davian. As you pointed out earlier—we can hate what they do, but we should never hate them.” He shifted. “And I’m not ‘better’ than you. That’s not how it works. Believing in El, trying to follow His rules, doesn’t make you in some way superior. If anything, it makes you more aware that none of us can claim to be truly good. That’s why forgiveness is so important.” He saw Davian’s dubious expression and shook his head. “I’m not suggesting that enemies should suddenly be friends, but I am choosing to forgive. Because if I don’t, I’m nothing more than empty words.”

“They obviously didn’t sway you then, so what’s changed?” “Me, I suppose.” Tal shrugged at Davian’s look. “Sometimes it’s not the message. It’s the timing.”

“For Caladel,” he whispered hoarsely in Rethgar’s ear. He let go.

RAHHHHHHHHH

Death had been such a constant companion that for centuries he had just accepted its inevitable presence, turned off the piece of his mind that was sickened by his bringing it. Refusing to kill now—now, when it would be easier, when it would be considered by many to be justified—was freeing. As if he was in some small way breaking the shackles of his past self, reaffirming that life did matter. All life, not just the lives of the people he liked or needed.

“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.”

We are the delay. We are the sacrifice.”

Wirr spent time with each man and woman who bore a Mark, learning their names, giving each of them the same command. Not to retreat or surrender. Not to break. To be focused throughout, never giving in to fear. To be organized. And to not fear death when it came.

“Your choices, Tal. Always your choices. Influences don’t get blame or credit.”

Finally they broke apart, Dezia still grinning. “You need to stop making me think you’re dead,” she said, a little giddily.

YEAH. PLEASE.

Wirr glowered. “Easy for you lot to say,” he grumbled. Caeden glanced across at him. “We’ll make sure you’re safe. We’re all painfully aware that you’re the weakest one here.” “It’s a little awkward,” concurred Asha. “Lucky you’re a prince, really,” continued Davian absently, peering over the edge into the raging white water. “You wouldn’t have a whole lot going for you if you didn’t have—” “All right,” growled Wirr. Davian shared a grin with Asha, for the briefest of moments the banter making him feel like they were all back in Caladel.

Caeden went with him, cradling Alaris’s head in his lap. 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.

Suddenly there were tears in her eyes and she was sobbing. Crying into Davian’s shoulder, gripping Wirr’s hand so tightly that it probably hurt, but she found she couldn’t stop. From the shaking of their bodies as they returned her embrace, they were feeling the same thing. 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.

“Maybe more,” agreed Caeden softly. He took her hand in his, squeezing it, his heart a stone in his chest. “I worry about the man I’d be without you, Ell. I’d fight El Himself, break His plan and burn the world if I thought that it could bring you back.” Ell smiled slightly. “No, you wouldn’t. You aspire to be better than that,” she said, brushing back a strand of his hair affectionately. “Besides. You’d know it’s not what I’d want.” Caeden looked away, emotion choking him. “‘Be the man I aspire to be,’” he murmured eventually. “A friend of mine said that to me, once.” Ell leaned in, putting her head against his. “Terrible advice for most people, but for you?” She kissed him gently. “Be that man, and I will never stop loving you.”