Family, I had one once. I see their faces in my mind when I fall asleep, before the nightmares start. Before I see their bodies red on the floor, before I see her. Her body so still, my love, I’m so sorry.

We’ve been beaten down so long, living on the cusp of death for near two decades. Our spirits float out of us, we have nothing left to fight for. Family. We have to fight for our families, to keep what we have and preserve what will be. I lost them but if I can do this one thing, a day will come when that doesn’t happen again.

The day will come as the suns will rise. I have to believe it. I have to believe that the lives that have been eaten up by this machine of death will mean something, will bring something. That those who live on will keep fighting, fighting for us, until the fighting can stop.

-Doc Vorran. 18 years. End of lune.

LESEDI:

I stare into the distance taking in the white rolling hills that lump along the horizon. It’s a clear day, the sky is blue and the suns are out for the first time in weeks, albeit faint and dim. It is after all still lune, I hate this season, everyone does.

In the distance bare rohedan trees form a dark looming wall, even from a distance the trees look enormous. Without their leaves the tree line looks like a string of burnt sticks piled beside each other. I can hear nothing but the howling gale of a cold wind that blows hair astray from my bun and sticks it to wet cheeks.

Talea lies unconscious in her bed, I did what I could for the bleeding. I stitched her up, like I always do. My chest tightens and I feel the dry heave of more tears. Like I always do. How many times has it been now? She comes beneath my needle over and over and I can’t escape this fear that one day my skills won’t be enough. I give everything I have to help her, she’s obstinate and hot-headed but she’s my family. More than my sister, she’s my best friend. My anchor to life, I can’t lose her. Yet, she seems determined to get herself killed.

I wipe the tears from my cheeks and take in a deep breath crossing my arms again to retain warmth. We’re nightstalkers. Halfmoons they call it, a prettier term but it doesn’t hide the fact that the blood of monsters runs through our veins. In the span of one sentence I’ve become a woman who belongs nowhere. Even if I show no signs of nightstalker traits, I know. It changes things. Grayskins, I loathe them, but I am one of them.

I can see it in Talea as clear as day. It’s like staring at the sky for so long and seeing nothing but a cloud. Then someone points out that cloud is shaped like a bird and all of the sudden you see it. Then it can never be unseen and you can’t understand how you were blind to it before. Tall, skinny, and pale, like a young snow dusted tree. Strong and fast like a zigon that charges through any obstacle. Hostile and determined, as immutable as any storm. It’s obvious once it’s been pointed out. But I share none of these traits, I’m almost ready to believe we’re not twins, as if this is all some big conspiracy.

But then there’s our eyes, our purple eyes. I wonder if they manifest in all halfmoons. I remember from the texts that purple eyes are seen as a taint from the void, it’s said that the void king put a demon behind their eyes to turn them purple and fill their minds with evil. Perhaps that’s from a kernel of truth.

I remember when we were young, we were teased by the other children at festivals and gatherings. The holy colors are blue, green, and gold. To have purple is to say you don’t have Father Sky’s blessing, that you already belong to the void. It would make Talea so angry, I suppose that’s when I stopped believing. Who could possibly damn a child based on their eye color? It’s probably for the best we didn’t go to social events often, especially with Talea’s temper.

Talea says they turn red with anger, but I think it’s more than that. If it were simple anger, we would have seen her red eyes long ago. I suspect the flash of red is linked to violent rage, the compulsion to do harm to another, or being swept up in the adrenaline of a fight for your life. As was the circumstance last night, challenging a nightstalker to a fight to the death. I sigh and shake my head considering that.

A memory pushes into the front of my mind. I remember being six and playing by the pond on the Klaysa’s farm. Talea was lost in the swamp grass chasing a salamander, I remember giggling as I saw random limbs flailing within the tall grass. I heard curses that at six we weren’t supposed to utter as she was fixated on catching the salamander. It was blue, my favorite color.

“Demon eyes demon eyes. To the void when you die!” Gent chanted as he approached the pond with his brother. He was a stocky boy who hated us for reasons I could never understand.

I remember him glaring at me with his perfect golden eyes, I remember his taunting as his brother laughed at me. I glanced back towards Talea, she was the one who protected me, defended me. She hit the bullies for me. But that day she was lost in her chase and heard nothing.

Gent cycled through a slew of insults, each increasing in offense as he moved through them. I tried to be strong, like my sister, and glared at him in silence. Until he uttered words that were unforgivable. “Little orphans, that’s why your mom killed herself. She had demon babies. Your dad is probably Scliras himself!”

I loathed him, my entire soul blackened into nothing but hatred and he needed to pay for what he said. No one should be allowed to say such despicable things, even if he is the son of two priests. Only one sky temple built in all the outlands and the priest’s son was a spiteful little prenk.

The hate and rage boiled inside me like a storm billowing into the sky ready to destroy. Heat flashed to my skin and my mind darkened, before I could stop myself, I leaped onto him grabbing his hair and slamming his head down into the ground. My fingernails dug into his scalp as I pulled his head up again and again pounding his skull into the ground while I screamed.

His brother screeched and punched me in the cheek. “Demon!”

I stepped back to rub my cheek; Gent was alive but his face was red with blood. He spit red fluid across a rock and tried to say something, but it was slurred and gurgled. He limped away clinging to consciousness by a thread as his brother supported him and together the boys ran away to the house.

With my chest heaving in ragged breaths, it wasn’t enough. I felt robbed. He didn’t die, I wasn’t finished yet, my hands ached to stretch out and grab him by the hair again and finish the job. I turned around and dropped to my knees reaching my hands into the water watching strings of blood float away. Looking at my reflection I saw red eyes staring back at me, and I screamed.

I fell backwards into the grass and then Talea appeared beside me crouching on a rock soaking wet in bare feet. Her hair was stringy and formed into matted clumps of tangles that fell where they wanted. Bits of grass and twigs poked out from her unruly locks and mud covered her face. Her hands were clasped one on top of the other and a huge grin was pasted to her expression. With slow movements she pulled her top hand away to reveal a salamander of the most brilliant blue I had ever seen.

She giggled and clasped her hands together again as it tried to escape. “I thought you could draw it.”

Without responding I lurched forward to look at my reflection and my eyes were purple again. It terrified me to my core that anger had made me a monster. Being angry and violent is what nightstalkers are, it’s not what I wanted to be. From that moment on I dedicated myself to calmness of emotion, logic, and reasoning. The next trip to market I asked Wren for my first book.

I assumed it was a hallucination influenced by my subconscious fear of nightstalkers and adrenaline-fueled rage. I was wrong. My eyes did turn red, my delusion was real.

I don’t know how to feel, how to think. All I can do is what I do best, reason. Nothing can change the facts, so there is no point in fighting them. I am half nightstalker, but I am also half skysinger. My fate is mine and nothing will change who I am unless I wish it. So, I will move forwards as I had intended anyway, my soul has not changed. I am who I was and who I choose to be.

Talea has taken on a monumental task, an impossible task. She has chosen a path that will in all likelihood kill her, even if she succeeds. Her odds of death are diminished with my presence in this venture, but the odds of my own demise rise in the process. We can both make it through this, we have to. We cannot leave on this quest and leave Wren and Trigan with two more deaths to hang over their heads. It would crush them.

What will happen if we succeed? There are many possible outcomes, but assuming the best-case scenario we could end a millennium of death and killing. Us. I chuckle, a headstrong girl and her twin sister that’s read a lot of books.

The probability of this is grim at best, but the chance is there. If there is even a small chance of us fixing this broken world, or at least averting worldwide catastrophe, it is a chance we must take. If I can save Talea’s life, over and over likely, in the process then all the better. I choose to commit to this journey, this goal, this war coming towards us. I am not coming only to protect my sister; I join in cause and I will give everything I can to help us win.

“Talea is awake again.” I flinch as I hear Trigan’s voice behind me.

I gasp and hold a hand to my chest. “Oh, that’s good. She’ll be able to eat dinner then.”

Trigan nods as he walks through the snow to stand by my side. He stares off towards the same horizon I have been during my contemplation. His thick arms are crossed against his chest and layered in thick fabric that only makes him look stockier. An awkward stillness falls over us.

My uncle breaks the silence with a tense tone. “Are we going to talk about what happened?”

I gulp and cross my arms standing beside him, unable to look him in the eyes. “What did you see?”

He breathes out sharply from his nose. “I saw Talea being dragged home unconscious and bleeding. What happened?”

I let out a slow breath that blows steam in a twisting cloud from my lips. “She made a bad decision and got hurt.”

Trigan grunts. “Again.” I nod even though he isn’t looking at me. “How bad is the trouble she’s in?”

I sigh. “She’s in deep Trigan. I won’t lie to you, it’s dangerous.”

He rubs his fingers across the creasing lines on his forehead, I hear him sniff. “Can she make it out alive?”

I harden my nerves. “She can, with my help.”

He lets out a bitter laugh. “So, she’s dragged you into her mess again.”

I turn to look into Trigan’s face, I gulp at seeing his bloodshot wet eyes. “I chose this. I chose her. I always will.”

He nods and pinches at his nose as he sucks in a breath through his nostrils. “Fine. But you need to talk to Wren.”

It feels like a boulder has dropped from the sky and fallen onto my shoulders. I nod without words and pat him on the shoulder. Leaving him freezing tears onto his cheeks I go back inside. So much pain, and we haven’t even left yet. This better be worth it, because I know that this pain is only the beginning.

✽✽✽

TALEA:

I walk as a woman condemned. My chest tightens and my hands shake as if my own execution is awaiting me in that dining room. Lesedi is stunned I can even walk at all, then she droned on about tissue regeneration and nightstalker hardiness and a lot of other words I don’t care about. My body still aches and I feel like I was trampled by a team of orbig. My body is covered in purple bruises and if I bend too much I wince from my cuts, but all in all I’m not dead so that’s good.

Lesedi walks with dignity and patience, her emotions are contained deep down inside while mine can’t help but surface. Fear swells up within my chest causing my heart to pound with full fervor. I try to push down my nerves, to be the master of my own emotions like Lesedi does. Sometimes she seems like she doesn’t feel at all, the world is just a calculation to her.

Dinner was tense and quiet; the family could feel something was going on. Lesedi asked Wren and Trigan if we could talk in private without prying ears. Knowing the importance Wren gave Zoey and Echo and entire jar of buttered geckle drops and sent them away to their room to enjoy it. Zoey’s eyes almost popped out of her head, she’s only ever been allowed two or three at a time. She might wake Wren up by vomiting in the hallway, but I doubt my aunt will sleep tonight anyway.

Alaric is away for the night at Ilana’s. He broke the news to the family a week ago that he found his bondmate, he plans to introduce her to us tomorrow morning. Everything will be different by then, just as someone new is introduced to the family we’ll abandon them all.

Wren and Trigan sit at the table. My aunt has a kind smile with worry lines wrinkled into her forehead, her eyes look sick from fear. Trigan hunches with his round muscled arms stretched towards the middle of the table. His hands clasp together so tight his knuckles pale, there is no hint of smile in him.

Lesedi flows like a flower in the breeze. She wears a loose dress that fits snug in the bodice, blue, her favorite color. Green brocade wraps around her delicate waist. I had balked at first when she put on something so nice for another dinner with the family. It’s also weird to see her wearing anything other than the veyas she always wears. Her words ring in my mind “You have much to learn about diplomacy. A well-dressed individual lends credence to what they say and garners respect.”

I look down at my outfit and feel panic rising. I’m wearing simple brown trousers like I always do and a loose orange sweater that piles yarn around my hands. I do my best to still my nerves, Lesedi can do all the talking. All I have to do is sit, be quiet, and don’t get angry.

I sit down at the table across from the pressing eyes of my family with Lesedi to my right. She sits with perfect posture, of course. I think a lot of this diplomacy is unnecessary, but she does it to comfort herself. Lesedi likes rules and structure and guidelines, it gives her direction and makes her feel confident. Her hands stack on top of each other with a soft touch and she smiles. It’s breathtaking how stunning she is sometimes, even with the faint white scars, she looks like a woman of power.

Her voice is even and melodic. “I know this seems odd and your minds must be going to worst case scenario. But, please, Talea and I have something of the utmost importance to discuss with you. Keep an open mind.”

Trigan raises an eyebrow. “Diplomacy Lesedi? Really? Is it that bad?”

She purses her lips and gulps before forming a smile again. “Not bad, important. Talea and I have been given a task of monumental importance. It can have a significant impact on everyone’s future. So, when we tell you this, bear in mind, this affects everyone. This isn’t only about us.” She pauses to breathe in so soft I can’t even tell. “We are travelling to Capital Island to speak with the council.”

Their eyes go wide. Wren reaches out and takes Lesedi’s hand. “What? Why? Were you summoned?”

Lesedi pats the shaking hand of our beloved aunt. “We are going as liaisons to broker a non-aggression pact. If we succeed, the resulting alliance would be strong enough to destroy the Razorbone clan. They would no longer be a threat and the overpopulated cities and towns could expand. People of Thraz could move into the territory. There they can become farmers and herders instead of pirates and thieves.”

Wren frowns but smiles. She knows there’s more to this Lesedi isn’t saying. “Noble. But, liaisons of who? With whom would you travel?”

She pauses collecting her thoughts. Before she can speak a single word Trigan cuts her off mid breath. “You’re done Lesedi. I admire your delicacy and grace, but you’re too well trained in mediation. I want a straight answer.” He turns to face me. Oh no. “Talea, what is going on? Who is sending you to Capital Island?”

Oh no. Panic. My chest begins to heave in quick breaths and my fingers shake. My toes curl and uncurl fidgeting. I look to Lesedi who begins to open her mouth. Trigan speaks again. “Don’t look at your sister, look at me. One word from Lesedi and I’ll remove her from the room.”

I pause and close my eyes. I’m acting like a frightened rikue. No. I’m stronger than that, I’m a moon runner. I am brave. I may not be eloquent like Lesedi, but I have no reason to fear anyone.

I meet Trigan’s eyes with boldness and ferocity. “Leader Wikon of the Blood Bane clan.”

Lesedi mutters under her breath. “Oh, dear Father Sky.”

Trigan squeezes his hands together even tighter and leans back in his chair. He grits his teeth and narrows his eyes. His voice is sharp, but quiet. “Nightstalkers?”

I feel the fear melt away. “Yes. Nightstalkers. I met with Wikon last night in the village and he proposed the alliance.”

I can see Lesedi in my peripheral vision. She leans over with her hand over her eyes. “Thrack.” I’ve never heard her use profanity before. This isn’t going well.

In a flash Trigan leaps to his feet kicking his chair behind him sending it skidding across the floor. “Grayskins!”

Indignation pulses through me. I smack the flats of my palms to the table. “Don’t call them that! You don’t know what you’re talking about!”

Lesedi flinches and pushes her chair back from the table with preemptive judgement.

Trigan’s anger bursts. His tight fists fall through the air slamming into the wood surface. The entire table jumps and clashes back down against the floor banging my knees in the process. His deep voice bellows. “Liars! Cheats! Murderers!”

I leap up from the table kicking my chair to the side as I hear it clatter across the floor. I slam my fists down half a handspan from his own. “Then we are too!” My voice barks at him with a growling rasp to it. I can feel my eyes hot with rage, I know they flashed red.

In an instant his anger cools and slumps, unclenching his fists. His voice loses its fuming edge and his fingertips tap against the table. “You know?”

“You knew? All this time?” Lesedi peeps up with a shaky voice.

Trigan’s head droops as he stares down at the table top. He nods his head letting it droop limp and weak. He doesn’t speak a word. Wren reaches up and pats the small of his back. Her hand moves in a circle as she directs her eyes towards us.

Wren speaks so soft we almost can’t hear her. “You both came into this world with red eyes.” She reaches her free hand out towards us. I pull away, but Lesedi takes it clasping tight. “How did you find out?”

I cross my arms. “Othin figured it out, he told Wikon, who told me.”

Her brow creases with a mind full of questions. “Who’s Othin?”

Lesedi lets her head fall backward as she stares up at the ceiling. “Suns.” She groans as if she’s in pain.

The original plan was to skirt around the topic of nightstalkers. Lesedi’s fine crafted words would have implied us attending peace talks. Lesedi being chosen among outstanding youth in the area for a convention at the Academy on Capital Island. She even weaved a story of me going with her to escape some convincing trouble I had gotten myself into. We would leave under the premise we were joining a group of legionnaires exiting the area. They would never be the wiser and wouldn’t have to worry.

But then I talked. I should be cautious and careful with my words, but instead they come sputtering out. I lock dead serious eyes with Wren as Lesedi again scoots her chair back breaking Wren’s grasp. “He’s my bondmate. A nightstalker.”

Trigan’s silence shatters at once as he belts his booming voice through the house. “What?!” Wren gasps as my uncle grabs the table and flips it. “No!”

The beautiful work of art seems to stare at us with its legs sticking into the air. Trigan heaves in staggered breaths, his cheeks are flushed red and I don’t think it’s possible for him to be angrier. He reaches up and grips at his hair turning his back to us and stares at the wall. Wren sits in her chair still as stone trying to process all this.

Lesedi pulls herself to her feet in an elegant rise. How can she stay so calm during all of this? She grips my shoulder and tugs me away from the dining room. “That’s enough.”

My rage fumes as I protest. “He doesn’t even-”

She spins me away from the scene dragging me to the archway by my ear. “Talea needs a time out.”

I lean against the curve of the archway and cross my arms; I shoot her a glare so intense I can feel every stiff facial muscle. Frustration pulses along my skin and I can feel shallow muscles twitch. This isn’t fair, I understand it’s terrifying and upsetting to hear something like this all at once, I do. But he won’t even hear me out, he doesn’t care at all. He’s treating us like we’re idiot children playing with vipers.

Lesedi takes a deep breath and rubs her right eyebrow. “What happened to the story we prepared?” I shrug. She sighs. “That’s it? You just forgot it?”

I uncross my arms and flex my fingers trying to let the rage cool and leave me. “I don’t know. I couldn’t say it.”

She rolls her eyes. “Oh, so fighting and killing is fine but lying is where you draw the line?”

I snort a breath through my nose. “No, it’s not some moral high ground or anything. Lies just don’t stay in my head ok? They’re too hard to remember.”

She looks away from me pinching her chin in thought. Her chest sinks as she sighs and looks back at me. “You need to do better. This is a disaster.”

I clench my hands into fists and pound one into the wood of the archway with a thunk. “What does it matter?!”

Lesedi hushes me and glances back at my aunt and uncle consoling each other. Or rather, Wren trying to calm Trigan down. “Keep your voice down!” She hushes me in an urgent whisper.

I grip the edge of the wood turning my knuckles white. It takes everything I have to keep my feet in place and not run out the door off into the woods. “We’re leaving no matter what they say.” I push off the wall to turn and leave, giving up.

Lesedi grabs me by the shoulder of my tunic and pulls me back to her. “Don’t you think about anyone but yourself?!” She uses the momentum to shove my back against the wall. I can resist her pull if I want to, but I’d rather not anger her. She gets lecture happy when she’s enraged. “We are most likely going to die out there.” She whispers through gritted teeth.

I squint my eyes and shake my head. “No, we’re not.”

Lesedi lets go of the fabric and moves her hand to push on my chest pressing me into the wall. I don’t know if I’ve seen her this angry, at least not often. “What if we do? What if we die out there and never see them again? Do you want your last words you speak to be angry and hostile? Do you want them to live with that?” She pauses and takes in a slow calming breath. “This conversation tonight is not about their permission. It’s about leaving their home without causing them pain. Or, it was.”

The reality hits me like a wall of snow, this could be the last time we see them. What if we did die? What if they had to live their lives with a fight being their last night with us? I rub my eyes and shake my head. “I’m an idiot. Suns, I’m so sorry Lesedi. I didn’t think about that.”

My sister releases her grip on me pulling her hands back in slow movements. She pulls on her dress and pats at her hair to smooth it. “That’s the problem Talea.” She shoots me a glare and points to her head. “You don’t think. We’re half nightstalker, but we’re half skysinger too. Skysingers think, they care. Try.”

I nod and do my best to collect myself. I need to find a way to control the rage, tame the anger. It’s helpful when fighting, but not with relationships. I cringe as I flash to my fight with Othin, my burning rage towards him. I gulp it down, I need to focus.

We return to the table after it’s been turned right side up. I see fractures forming in the wood, cracks spreading out like webs. I feel more guilt towards harming Trigan’s intricate hand-crafted table than I do about upsetting him. I close my eyes, trying. I push away the energetic storm and see things Lesedi’s way, at least for a few minutes. Now, it’s Lesedi’s turn to talk, thank Father Sky.

She pinches the bridge of her nose collecting her thoughts before bringing her eyes to theirs. “Alright, here it is laid out. We’re half nighstalker, we know. The fact that you didn’t say anything doesn’t matter.” She shoots me a look and turns back to them. “Talea has bonded to a nightstalker named Othin. It’s been going on for almost three months. It also doesn’t matter.” She stares down Trigan who sighs and pushes back from the table.

“What happened?” I ask with a cooled down curiosity.

Trigan looks up at me with scrunched eyebrows. “What?”

I shake my head with wheels trying to turn. “With our mother. You’ve kept this from us, what else haven’t you told us? How did she really die?”

Lesedi taps my arm. “Talea, this isn’t the time. We need to stay on track.”

“In a shack. By the pier.” Wren’s voice wrings out like hollow echoes. Her eyes stare at a wall instead of a person. “I saw her sneak out of the house one night. Suspicious, I followed her. She had found a way to open the gates enough to slip through without the guards noticing. She was my best friend, my sister in everything that matters.” Her voice trails off for a moment as her breath chokes.

Trigan pulls her into his arms. “You haven’t had to tell this story in almost twenty years, you don’t need to start now.”

Wren shakes her head trying to take in deep breaths. “Yes, I do. I followed her outside the gates hoping to stop her. She ran along the road to the pier. Being unprotected it’s deserted at night. I followed her along the docks to a shed. She wasn’t happy I followed her. We had a fight.” She wipes her eyes and keeps staring at the wall. “We said such awful things to each other. Then we heard the screams, hunter calls. She hid me under a partially built boat and then ran outside locking the doors. I stayed there until morning, hearing the screams.”

Wren breaks down in tears and Trigan holds her finishing her story. “The nightstalkers left her in pieces on the docks.”

I frown. “A boat? Was she trying to run away? From us?”

Lesedi’s voice becomes solemn and angry. “That would not be surprising. I imagine we were a reminder of whatever it is she had been through. With the nightstalkers.”

“I don’t understand.” I tilt my head with confusion.

Lesedi rolls her eyes. “You and Othin may love each other. But that is hardly the standard for nightstalkers. We all know rape is very real and never talk about it. Where else do you think our parentage came from?” She wipes the water from her eyes. “She didn’t want us. We were half of the monsters that hurt her.”

“Regardless, we only know our half of the story. My sister was very headstrong. Stubborn.” He looks at me with a shake of the head and a sighs. “You’d sooner stop the suns from rising than keep her from doing something she sets her mind to. Talea shares that with her.”

Wren nods and pats his forearm. “I’m sure you tried to stop her Lesedi.” She nods. My aunt pushes aside a black curl and tucks it behind her ear. Her eyes lock onto mine with the beginnings of a soft smile on her face. “Putting aside all of this, are you happy Talea?”

Not currently. I snort with crossed arms. Try. “Yes.”

Her smile grows and she leans back in her chair. She pats Trigan on the back. “At least there’s that. It’s not what we were hoping, but it’s something.”

Trigan rolls his eyes. “Of course, Talea could only be bonded with the most dangerous mate possible.”

Lesedi redirects the conversation with a cough. “Regardless, Talea is now part of the Blood Bane clan.”

They look at me with surprised glances asking for more information. I smile. “I killed a guy.” Their expressions droop and they shake their heads not wanting to broach the topic.

My uncle sighs and rubs his brow. “Your injuries?”

I nod with a mischievous grin. “You should’ve seen the other guy.” I hear groans around the table, including Lesedi. Right, I need to try.

Lesedi raises her eyebrows and shakes off the comment. “Anyway, here’s where all this gets disturbing. The Razorbone are organizing. They’re implementing strategy. There are signs of a grand plan to not only wipe out the Blood Bane, but come after all of us. Suns or not.”

Wren mutters under her breath. “That’s not possible.”

Her eyes flash cold as if her soul filled with ice. “Arinos.”

The room goes still and silent. Wren reaches over and takes Trigan’s hands. “That was them?”

My sister nods with an emotionless face. “It’s a high probability. This alliance Talea has brokered with Wikon is the only chance we have to fight what’s coming. If we don’t act now, it won’t matter where we are.”

I lean forward and try to tap into my compassionate side. Spare them worry and pain. “It’ll be ok though. Once we get to the Srexi, we’ll make a pact and get together with the Sky Legion. Then we can smash in all their faces and come home.” Judging by their faces, that did not help.

A silence falls over the room and I can almost hear their heartbeats. So many emotions pulse through our veins I can’t feel any of them. Trigan leans forward on the battered table. “What happens then? After the Razorbone are dead and this threat is eliminated?”

I shrug. “Hopefully, peace.”

Their eyes widen with disbelief, as if we’re naïve children. Maybe we are. Lesedi pats my hand, it’s a keep quiet pat. “During the interim, Wikon has commanded a stop on all nightstalker attacks. You should see a difference in the next couple weeks.” She reaches forward across the table and grabs their hands. “This is a real chance. The kind of opportunity people have dreamt of for the past thousand years.”

Wren frowns. “You think war can bring us together?”

Trigan shakes his head slow and contemplative. “No, but a common enemy just might. If they’re able to fight with us, they’re able to coexist.” Lesedi’s mouth breaks into a brimming grin. Trigan raises an eyebrow. “That’s a big if Lesedi.”

She nods. I shrug again and reach forward placing my hand on top of my family’s. “A thousand years is enough time killing each other though. Don’t you think?”

I see words cross their minds that they aren’t saying. What’s the point? I know they’re thinking of our mother; they’ve lost so much already. Our little family in our little hole is all that’s left.

A new feeling rises up inside my chest. I’m going to save them. I agreed to this for selfish reasons, but there’s more to fight for. I’m going to stop whoever is planning whatever they’re planning. I promise to myself deep in my core, I will save my family. Every single one of them.

✽✽✽

LESEDI:

The wind is biting and the air is cold sitting on the bench. Wren holds my hands staring off into the distance. The clouds part and for the first time in weeks the sky is clear enough to see the colors of late sunrise. We sit bundled up in thick coats and big scarves that wrap around several times. Zoey is a little fluff of orange hair being swallowed by layers. She throws a snowball into her sister’s face. Echo doesn’t flinch, or react in any way, instead she darts behind Zoey and shoves her face first into the snow.

Zoey spits snow from her now white face. “How’d you do that? So fast!”

Echo rolls her eyes and walks away. “I’m amazing. Do it again and I’ll show you how fast I can kick.”

My eyes move across our farm and see Trigan and Talea doing some tense target practice. She’s aiming at wood targets perched atop posts with her meteor hammer. She’s made incredible improvement. The whole morning feels idyllic and at the same time, ingenuine. All of us are trying to have a simple morning and put out of our minds that tonight Talea and I will leave.

My breath steams from my lips. “Are we the reason you left Gerafar?”

Wren turns toward me and lets out a breath of steam. “Well, I suppose. But that turned out for the best. Out here with the fresh open spaces, that’s better than a dusty house in Gerafar surrounded by walls.”

I nod. “True. I don’t think Talea would have done well behind walls.”

Wren giggles. “No, I don’t think so. But she wasn’t the reason we left.”

I point to my chest. “Me?”

She gives me a soft, kind, nod. “You were toddlers. Talea was always curious and getting herself into trouble. Your mother’s, incident, had happened a year prior. She was affected deeper than you were. She was developing behavior problems with other children. You were always the quiet one that stood over Talea at all times. You were like her guardian. You still are I suppose.”

I laugh. “Me? Her guardian? She won’t listen to me.”

Wren tilts her head with raised brows. “Oh? And this little trip you’re going on? I suppose you’re tagging along because of the fun of it? Have you always wanted to travel with nightstalkers and confront death head on?”

I shrink back. “I’m going to help Talea.”

Wren points a finger into the air. “You’re going to make sure she doesn’t die.” I nod. “You want to protect her. Like back then. Talea picked a fight with a little boy. Some nonsense I don’t remember. Well, he hit her. Then like a flash of lightning, there you were pinning him to the ground. Your eyes turned red and the boy saw it. But, no one believes a little boy. You were all just under three, he couldn’t string together the words coherently anyway. We understood though. We had seen flashes when you and Talea wrestled, or fought over a toy, or thought something was unfair. We knew you were nightstalker, it was the only explanation. Though your mother never said a word, she never wanted to talk about it. We can only assume-” She pauses, there’s no need to explain what likely happened. “We left. We hoped if we kept you away on a farm without people around you would be safe. If someone had discovered you, well-”

“They would have killed us.” I finish her thought. “That’s why you didn’t take us to the socials and gatherings until we were twelve. You were hoping we would learn to control our tempers by then.”

Wren nods. “You did. Talea never did, though blessedly she did grow out of her red flashes.” We look over to see Talea blow through a wood target with her rope weapon. “That girl.”

“Why did you never tell us?” I try to ask as delicate as I can.

My aunt smiles seeing Trigan shoot an arrow into a perfect bullseye. “We knew how tempestuous Talea was. Does it need further justification?”

I shrug in understanding. “You didn’t want to encourage her with knowledge of her parentage and endanger the entire family.”

Wren nods and purses her lips. “Lot of good that did.”

I smile and grip Wren’s gloved hands. “This can be a good thing, all things in life change. Perhaps Talea’s wild and passionate personality will force the world to change. Nothing seems to stop her. She may be what we need.”

“You are what we need Lesedi. Our world does not need more fire. It needs water." She looks away again into the distance.

Wren caresses the side of my face with her thick gloves. “You look so much like her you know. Your mother. You have her kindness, her intellect, though you’ve far outpaced her in that. She was my best friend. In raising you it’s like an echo of her stayed around. I don’t know if I could lose that all over again.”

“I know.” I take my aunt’s hand. I can barely feel it through the padded gloves but it’s a comfort still. “Wren, we will come back.”

Tears well up in her eyes. “I-I-“ I hug her. As I do, she whispers “I know. I know you love Talea. But please, don’t die for her.”

I pat her back. “I won’t. I promise, everything will be fine.”

Everything will be fine, it has to be, failure is non-optional even if it is highly probable. I don’t think Talea sees the urgency in the situation that I do, in her mind we’ve already won. Perhaps we have, but no victory comes without a price.

Acceptable loses, that’s a term coined from a strategy book I read. In war you must be willing to make the hard decisions, to stone yourself against your emotions and accept some will die. We won’t be able to save everyone, that I can see clearly. But if I can save just one person, Father Sky, let it be Talea.