Dorothea admired Iree for keeping it together so well in front of the intimidating Sacerian council. In light of that, her own outburst felt all the more childish. Still, for the Sacerians to assume that the Sirpoans hadn’t been affected at all by the epidemic… Maybe she didn’t have a right to talk. She wasn’t so sure what she had a right to feel or complain about anymore.

After taking some time to reflect the night before, she’d accepted she had made a terrible mistake. She hadn’t thought about what her actions would cost the people around her in the long run, only how she could save them temporarily. Now Springen was overcrowded and Iree’s squad was under fire. It was because Dorothea was to blame that she had come to join the council meeting and take the punishment she deserved.

“What’s this about Rhys guarding me, or…?” she asked once she, Iree and Rhys had escaped back out onto the streets. The others were nowhere to be seen; Cerid, Shark and Ariana had disappeared into the ether.

“Rhys is taking Creed’s place in your guard detail.” Iree wore a knowing smirk. “I’m sure you won’t mind that too much, right Atlin?”

She bristled at the implication. “Whatever you think is best,” she replied, stiff. “I’m sure Cerid will be busy with better things from now on.”

“Right, right. As long as we can all suffer through our new arrangements, it’ll be fine.”

Rhys spoke up sheepishly. “I meant to ask your permission beforehand, Dorothea, but I figured you wouldn’t mind. With the council meeting happening, I thought it would be better for us to be able to say we’d figured out what I would do now that I’ve been demoted. ”

“No, no, don’t apologize. Really.” Iree’s teasing aside, it really wouldn’t be bad to spend more time with him, watching out for each other.

“Your mom wasn’t exactly pleased,” Iree observed dryly to Rhys. “Did you see her face? She looked like she wanted to fly down and strangle me.”

Rhys shrugged. “Just count yourself lucky you won’t be there for the lecture she’s going to give me later on.” He looked at Dorothea apologetically.

“Speaking of parents”—Iree, in a smooth transition, floated to Dorothea’s side and looped her arm in the crook of her elbow—“why don’t you come and meet mine, Atlin?”

Dorothea blinked, surprised. “O-Oh, okay. If you’d like.”

“Great! Sorry to steal her away from you, Rhyyys!” Iree sang as she yanked Dorothea off at her usual rocketing pace.

“Please stop that,” Dorothea sighed. “There’s nothing for you to tease either of us about. It’s… I’m sorry, but it’s annoying.” It was one thing to talk about it in theory. Thinking of it as something that could actually happen to her wasn’t allowed.

Iree blinked at her, surprised. “Damn. I was just teasing, Atlin, but okay. I’ll stop.”

“Thank you,” Dorothea mumbled.

They fell silent as they passed on and on through the fort, Iree’s arm anchoring Dorothea to her all the while. Buildings became more sparse and then disappeared altogether at the beginning of a dense forested area near the rightmost side of the fort. When they slipped back into open area, the smell of manure and upturned soil carried thickly on hot winds, a modest hut came into view.

The Nobelis home hardly felt to be part of Springen. They had entered somewhere disparate, incongruous with the rest of polite society. Its construction was the bare minimum needed to keep it standing, and even then the windows were boarded up because of holes, and the porch had long wooden poles bracing it to stop the foundation from crumbling. Beside the porch stairs rested a tomato plant brimming with plump bounty that strained up a metallic lattice. A large vegetable garden flowed from the right side of the house. Since she was too busy examining this, Dorothea didn’t notice how rickety the first step was until it groaned beneath her weight. She leapt back with a squeak, and laughter sounded behind her.

Iree hopped right up onto the porch before turning back with a grin. “It’s better to just skip them, but the first one especially.”

Dorothea flushed. “Right…” Would have been nice to have been told that before.

“Just try not to talk about the war, ‘kay?” Iree warned. “Or else things’ll get real awkward, real fast.”

But what else was there? “I’ll try my best.”

“Good.” Iree entered the house without further ado, opening the door gently and easing it closed with the same gingerness to avoid stressing its whining hinges. “Hey guys.” The words were spoken like she was greeting old acquaintances she was neither happy nor sad to see and to whom she had nothing in particular to say.

“Good afternoon. Erm, thank you for having me,” Dorothea greeted once she’d crept inside. “My name is Dorothea, I’m a colleague of Iree’s, and it’s nice to meet you.”

Two adults sat at a table with a book beneath one of its legs to keep it level. The table itself was scattered with papers that were covered top to bottom with small, curly handwriting. The floor was littered with scrunched pages thrown into all corners.

A woman with deep blue hair and Iree’s bright eyes glanced Dorothea’s way dispassionately. “Sharee Nobelis. Welcome. Not that we enjoy unexpected guests, but still.”

“Sorry to intrude,” Dorothea said quietly.

Iree smiled, but her words were sharp. “Be nice, please. Hey there, stepdad? You going to acknowledge us?”

“Foster.” Iree’s father—stepfather, she’d just revealed—introduced himself without looking her way. He brushed hair behind his ear before pushing glasses up with his middle finger. His eyes were narrowed to slits as they focused on the page before them.

Dorothea stared at the wall, the further papers tacked to it in perfectly parallel rows and columns. What now? She couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Almost unconsciously, her hands slipped into the satchel that bumped against her hip. They closed around the book Sharee Nobelis had penned, and she approached the table to put it on the edge without a sound.

“Would you mind signing this?” Her voice sounded too loud in the tight space. “I’ve read this more times than I have fingers and toes. Of which I have all of them. A full set.” Wow. Eloquent. She was doing great. “Erm, it gave me insight, I hope, and…” They weren’t listening, so why go on?

“That’s nice,” Sharee replied, distracted as she peered over her husband’s shoulder. “Change the phrasing. Be more firm. Evocative.”

“Right, right.” Foster crossed out part of a line and made notes in the margins.

“It’s not personal,” Iree murmured as she crossed her arms and donned a wry smile. “They’re always like this when they work. We just got here at a bad time.”

Dorothea would have normally expected Iree to put them in their places by now, but she just seemed tired. She couldn’t tell if her lack of fire was due to caring too much or not enough. “What are you writing?” she asked in a timid, high-pitched voice.

“A peace treaty,” Foster replied shortly.

“Erm, Miss Sharee, can I ask in regards to this book I have here… Why did you write what you did about the Atlins? About my family.” With that, she finally had their attention.

“I only endeavored to write the truth, Miss Atlin,” Sharee stated mildly. “I assure you that nothing in regards to the inexcusable apathy of your family was incorrect.”

“I get it.” Dorothea wasn’t entirely sure why—maybe it was everything compiled, every single accusation she’d gotten, first Ariana, then the council this morning, and now, always having to justify herself—but enough was enough, and she snapped.

“Gods, I get it already! You want me to use my power to right whatever wrongs you think I should, you think I’m lazy and irresponsible and a terrible person. That’s fine, but I’m tired of my entire family being brought into it! My mother already died fighting in the first year of the War of Wither, so what more do you want? You have no right to insult the Atlins who came before me. All of them gave away precious years of life away for Sacer. Saying it’s our responsibility to do something when all of us know that there will just be another war because you Sacerians and Ghurians can’t play nice… How conceited! Deal with the consequences of your own actions and policies without bringing me and my loved ones into it! Haven’t you done enough to the Atlins already? I’m the last one you can take, so how exactly do you intend to get along afterwards once the line’s died out?”

“Woah, Atlin, stop.” Iree seized her shoulder and gripped hard in warning. “There’s no point.”

“On that, you’re correct,” Dorothea agreed, frenzied. “Keep your book, I don’t need it anymore. Waste of time.” She turned on her heel and flew from the house, remembering just in time to skip the stairs. After a clumsy leap to the base, she distanced herself to stand against a tree and catch her breath. What a rant. The Nobelises probably thought she was crazy, and she couldn’t contest.

After a few minutes, Iree joined her. She stood a few feet away and put her hands on her hips, scrutinizing Dorothea. As her hair was tousled by the wind that sifted through rustling leaves, it moved between flickering shadow and searing sunlight.

“I’ll be honest,” she said after she’d concluded whatever she had needed to. “I didn’t expect that from you.”

“That…makes two of us,” Dorothea mumbled. “I’m sorry. I really am. That must have been so uncomfortable for you. I’ll apologize to them.”

“I don’t really give a shit.” Iree laughed. “It was funny, really, watching someone like you get angry. It’s like hearing a puppy bark.” She sat, hugging her knees to her chest and peering over them. She waited, so Dorothea understood the signal to join her, huddling herself up in the shade. “I think you mentioned at one point that she died, but your mom really fought for Sacer, huh?”

“In the first year of the War of Wither, yes. It’s no wonder you’ve all forgotten, given that. So much has happened since then, and she didn’t last lo…” Dorothea pressed her nails into her arms. “That was all her body could handle.”

“Only a year…” Iree frowned, confused. “But over a century passed between the War of Blending to now. Shouldn’t your family line have had lots of time to recover?”

Dorothea laughed bitterly. “Do you think that peacetime meant we would stop being pushed to use our magic? No. So-and-so broke their arm, this person died too early, this fight from a week ago made a couple break up so could I please stop it, this memory hurts too much and needs to go, someone gets hurt at work and needs healing to continue, Gods forbid someone stub their precious little toe!” She let out a long, exhausted breath.

“Why don’t you just say no?”

“Do you really think I’d have a place in Sirpo if I did? The understanding when Mischa Atlin helped to found Sirpo in the War of Blending was that the Atlins were responsible for the protection of neutral territory and all of its citizens. Besides, isn’t it the same everywhere? I’m evil if I don’t fight for what you fight for. From the moment I stepped into Sacer, I’ve known what people think of me. I get my daily dose of it with Ariana, but today has been… I’m trying to be mature and understand how everyone else must feel, but it’s frustrating. That’s not to say I’m not to blame, because I am. I really am. Before I came here, I barely thought about what Sacer has gone through. I’m not a good person.”

“Hm.” Iree took a while to digest this. Her eyes never left Dorothea’s, and she felt dissected. “You know, Atlin, after today, I really do like you. More than I thought I would.”

Dorothea smiled. “But?”

That made a smile blossom across Iree’s lips in return. “But I don’t think one life in the face of all this horror means anything. If I could stop all this right now by dying, I’d gladly do it.”

“I respect that, though I can’t understand your mindset.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to. We’re just too different.” Iree sighed, then tilted her head in consideration. “You said some stuff about being the last one of your line. Not going to pass on the magic?”

“No, I’m not.” Dorothea didn’t care to elaborate, and Iree didn’t press. “What was your motive in bringing me here, Iree? You had to have known it wouldn’t go well.”

“To show you the truth before it’s too late.” She shook her head and laughed at herself. “Damn, that was vague and ominous. Let me rephrase.” Iree jerked her thumb over her shoulder at the poor excuse for a residence her family was holed up in. “That’s where fighting for peace in a reality founded on war gets you, Atlin. Abandoned and rejected.”

“And yet you earned the position of commander,” Dorothea reasoned. “You’re well-respected from what I can see.”

“That’s because I’m only a Nobelis in name, see. I’ve cut ties. Today is the first time I’ve visited them in years,” Iree explained. “They hate me, you know. For doing exactly what they taught and begged me not to do. But maybe they have a right to hate me. I talk tough, but I’d also trade everything to bring back a single person…” She laughed lightly. “Shit, what am I saying? You’ve got a way of making people feel at ease, you know? I just started dishing on you without realizing.”

Dorothea smiled gently. “That’s okay, really.” She was glad if there was something she could do to help, even if it was so small.

“Anyways! I am where I am because I had help when it counted and because I worked my ass off. That said, I don’t tend to let people jeopardize what I earned. Get what I’m saying?”

“Yes.” Dorothea had transgressed once in playing the role she had in Sunmer’s surrender. Another mishap clearly wouldn’t be forgiven. Because she couldn’t imagine what punishments would be doled out in that case, the prospect made her feel more confused than scared.

Iree looked doubtful. “You’ve got to get with the program, you know. We live in a world where killing is the only answer that’s accepted. If you haven’t grasped that by now, I really don’t know if there’s hope for you.” She leaned forward, insistent. “I want you to live, Atlin. I want everyone to live. But the only way for me to go is forward, and I can’t waste time with people who stand still or look back. Not anymore.”

“I understand.” But it wasn’t that simple. Iree believed that violence would lead to peace, but any peace they had ever gained didn’t last. Was that it, then? This cycle was all there was to see ahead?

They paused, watching as a group of workers passed towards the fields beyond the Nobelis home, giving the traitor’s den a wide berth.

“All of Springen’s farms are over here,” Iree noted. “If you listen, you can hear the animals. I used to go and feed the goats leaves from these trees. I’d rip huge branches off to bring to them. The babies would nibble on our clothes, and the adults would buck each other out of the way to get fed first. Dale would…” She looked above them wistfully. “Ah, damn. It’s not good for me to spend time here.”

In a different world with just a few circumstances shifted, Dorothea thought suddenly, Iree could have been the one to come to Sirpo desperate to find belonging in the night. Like Shark, she had lost far too much through no fault of her own. She had been outcasted and abandoned by people who had been meant to protect her. “Thank you for sharing with me,” she said gently.

Iree gave a start before smirking. “Come on, don’t look at me like that. All that pity does no one any good. Listen.” She shifted, bracing her hands on her knees and leaning forward in an animated fashion. “I’m not talking about a peace that’s as fragile as lasting decades or a measly century, Dorothea. I’m talking something that will last forever. I’m going to be the one to do it.”

Dorothea believed her. In that moment, with Iree’s blazing eyes focused so intently on her, she believed in everything she promised. “That’s the first time you’ve called me by my first name,” she realized aloud.

“Did I?” Iree seemed surprised. “Well, consider it an honor.” She grinned, sprung to her feet and pulled Dorothea up.

She couldn’t help but smile back. “Um. Additionally. May I ask you an entirely trivial and useless question?” Dorothea sensed that their time together was coming to an end and wanted to wrap up one last concern, however small.

“Shoot.”

“You’re close with Hollyhock, right?”

“Yeah. The Novaks have been real good to me.”

“And, um… What about Rhys?”

Iree frowned. “You got a special reason for asking?”

Dorothea looked to her feet. “Truth be told… Hollyhock, on the first night we met, didn’t seem to want me to spend time with Rhys. That on top of the comments you’ve made… Um, am I unintentionally interfering in your relationship with Rhys? Your...romantic relationship?”

“The fuck!” Iree snapped.

“Eep!” Dorothea jumped, throwing her arms up in surrender.

Iree planted her hands on her hips. “Seriously Atlin, don’t listen to a thing Hollyhock says. He thinks he’s my wingman or something.”

“Wing… What are you talking about?”

“I liked Rhys, PAST TENSE, Hollyhock knew, he tried to keep the field clear for me. Asshole. That’s all, end of discussion, we never bring this up again. If you tell anyone I’ll fuck ya up.”

“I-I won’t say a word.” So she’d been wrong from the start. There was nothing going on between the commander and captain. Why did she feel…? She pressed her hands to her tightened chest and looked downwards, embarrassed and ashamed. Relief was washing over her, and she couldn’t let herself consider why. “It...can be a matter of choice. Love. But I’m glad that you all have time for it. Since you can, it’s good for it to be part of your lives, right?”

Iree opened her mouth and closed it. “If I could stop it, I would,” she replied in the end.

“I’m sorry.” Because Iree had been so open with her, she was moved to be more personal in turn. “I know that trying to stop it can hurt just as much as anything else, though. Please take care of yourself.”

Iree gave her one last smile, a soft one the likes of which she’d not seen from the commander. “You too, Dorothea.”

Here, levelling about love and heartache, life and death and war, Dorothea was able to forget the hardships for just one moment. Sitting there in soft spots of sunlight and shade were two girls trying to make their way to a world where they just might live happily someday.