Dawn is about to break. I can see her shimmer at the edge of my vision, the sky lightening from the black of pre-dawn to the purple and red that heralds the sun’s coming. Clouds threaten to cover her light, but she shines through the holes to bring light to Videlia and to herald another battle.

I am alone, for one blessed moment. I've found a hidden space between the curve of a bush and a tree half-way up the side of the inn where there are still growls and moans of pain escaping from within. The shadows hide me, and with Flash being too injured to come and find where I've gone, my bodygaurds should be unable to find me. Case in point, Jace and Tim walk within inches of my hiding place. Of course, they don't find me, even as Jace chews frantically on a candied fruit on a stick and Tim scratches his head.

Heather was stable before I left. Flash was grinning and called me an emotionless bastard for seeing to my girl first over him, but his eyes kept slitting, showing his pain ran deeper than he let on. Morgana was fast asleep, but her hands would twitch and her eyes moved behind her eyelids while sweat poured from her brow.

And I can’t keep from staring at the blood on my hands. A Shifter, Hiphrate, put a bowl beside me many minutes prior, but I cannot seem to gather the energy needed to wash the red and black from my hands. He took one glance at me and left. Flash would've sat beside me and teased me until I either grinned or punched him.

The cold numbness is an old friend, but I know. I know I should not hold to the emotionless mask for too long lest I become it. But the bitter emotions leaking back into my soul the moment I release the numbness... it is worse than being stabbed with silver.

I wish I were the one fighting for my life within. Heather deserves much more than this. And Flash... a part of me—after all we had been through and all the battles we fought and he came through unscathed—a part of me considered him untouchable. He is smart and sly, but... he is mortal. Just like us all. He may be faster, tougher, and heal faster than a human, but what I felt when I saw him laying on the ground, covered in his own blood... I shake my head, pushing the emotions to the background where I can deal with them later. Right now, there is a war to win. I need my head clear.

General Brackenridge and David came to update me a while back, saying all men were in place and they would like a word from their Commander before the battle began. I figured looking like I stayed up the entire night wouldn’t be a good look and so asked for time to prepare. But more than that… I needed a moment to myself.

And in the quiet, I don't like what I see.

The bloodstained hands go well beyond the physical. I almost broke last night. I almost killed the entire army and those with me. The power at these fingertips… it is not a weight for any one man to carry. The burdens on my shoulders weigh too much. I'm afraid I will make a mistake... one I cannot come back from. If Heather had died... if the spear had driven through Flash's heart... if I had killed them through Beast... dread pools deep in my stomach, feeding something dark inside me I thought gone when the Allfather forgave me.

A quiet voice whispers on the wind.

I jerk my head up, needing to feel his peace.

A dark pit is growing inside. I try to ignore it, try to go on without it. But it seeps into my bones. It grows and festers, and with each step I make trying to win this war, it seems to ache worse. It’s like a… it’s a craving. A craving for control. A craving not to feel. For what I want to be to happen, even if I must force it from the blood of my enemies, and perhaps, even, my friends. It’s a need to be strong enough, to be just be enough to win this war and finally settle down, either in life or death knowing I had given my all for those I love and that they are safe. To have peace.

But life is not safe. And a part of me would wrestle with the Allfather if only I could keep those I love from the pain in my soul.

The voice grows louder. It comes closer, caressing my soul.

Feel, my son. Feel.

I cringe away from the voice. I don’t wish to. Feeling is too much. It shows what I’ve become, the monster I’ve fought and tried not to be. It shows the growing darkness inside of me.

Why do you run from me? he asks

I shake my head, my limbs trembling.

Where can you go to escape me? he asks.

I bow my head, heart aching inside me as emotions press against the wall I hide behind.

When will you realize I love you? he asks.

A tear escapes my tightly closed eyes at his soft voice that aches with a pain that matches the one in my heart. It teases at my emotions, and they ease back into my heart from where I had stuffed them.

There is no need for you to do this alone, my son.

I know. I know this. And yet… it’s easy to go back. To return to what I know. And what I know is numbness. A cold control. Relying only on yourself. No one else will look out for you and what you care for. It’s easier. Everyone and everything else can and will let you down. Betray you. Hurt you. Die.

And deep in my heart, anger breeds. The Allfather took Pa from me when he could have saved him. He put me with assassins as a child and forced me to grow into a monster long before my fangs grew long enough to kill. He put me with a loving family only to take them from me just when I came to believe my life could be more than the death in my past.

I know he has a reason for it all… and I understand his pain is greater than my own… but couldn’t he give me a break? Just a small one?

A chuckle, one filled with loving humor but also sadness. Be patient and know I am with you.

Why can’t you change it? Why can't you bring peace without me? I've no wish to be your so-called True King.

Do you trust me?

I remember what he has done. I remember what I have done.

And there is no comparison.

Why would you want me to? I cry out, the ball of darkness deep within once again roiling like something alive. Coldness seeps into my pores and I shiver with the growing ice in my veins.

His voice grows soft, gentle. My son, why would I not?

Don’t you know who I am? What I am? What I’ve done?

You still think your worth is based on what you do or do not do.

Is it not?

Another chuckle. Do you love Jed for action or inaction? Do you love Barry any less for his anger at you?

I deflate. No.

Have you forgiven yourself for your past, my son? Or do you yet hold tightly to it? Until you release it, you will not find the freedom of the chained.

I recoil from his voice, mentally and physically, standing from my knees and retreating to one of the few trees left this side of the wall, hiding in the shadows, as if I could hide from him.

A laugh makes me turn my head, and I see the dark hair and dark eyes of a Shifter, about ten feet from me, skipping from the back door of the inn in a baggy tunic and pants. And I realize there comes a drizzle from the skies, soaking me and washing the blood from my hands.

The Shifter jumps in a puddle, laughing, as an elderly woman walks after her, shaking her head but pinching her lips to hide a smile as she holds a tanned hide above her head by a stick. I can smell the pitch used to make the hide waterproof, keeping the woman dry.

I sniff the air and realize the Shifter girl is Ephora, the Shifter daughter of the wolves who saved my life back when I fought Commander Vex.

She turns back to look at the woman with a grin, her eyes sparkling with joy even as rivulets of water make her dark hair stick to her forehead. “Come, Grandmother! The day is beautiful. Let's not waste it on broken things.”

“Shouldn’t you be in bed, child?” the older Shifter asks. Ephora shakes her head, her smile dimming slightly. “Bad dreams again?” comes the elderly Shifter's soft, gentle voice.

I ease around the tree so I'm still cloaked in shadow and crouch, watching this unfold and unable to look away, feeling emotions returning as if they'd been a dead whale washed away by the tide only to be brought back once more.

“They come. They come for us all. But I choose not to grant them hold over me anymore. Life is too beautiful to waste a single moment complaining about what was. Let us face today with joy,” Ephora says, her grin growing as she hops from foot to foot, splashing mud on her plain brown pants that seem a size too large.

The older Shifter shakes her head, her face finally softening from its scowl into a smile. “Fine, child. Let’s explore before the dragons come and eat us all!”

Ephora squeals in delight, racing to hug the woman and then darting off into the city, the shadows lengthening but growing more grey than black as the sun shines on the city through the small gaps in the rain clouds.

I sit back on the cold ground, feeling mud soak into my pants, but uncaring.

How could Ephora, after all she had been through and all that had been done to her, shine so bright?

I realize I'm jealous. Jealous of her light. Jealous of her joy. Jealous of her outlook.

In the middle of war, she found joy. Despite her pain, she chose happiness.

Did this mean happiness is a choice? Could I choose to have joy now, even in the middle of war? Could I seize the moment and live, even in the midst of pain?

I shake the thoughts from my mind. Surely not. Joy is for the innocent ones like Ephora. Not for monsters like me.

But the words of the Allfather seep into my soul and make me wonder. Can I have joy? Can I find it in the here and now... not forced to wait on the end of the wars or on peace?

And in that moment I realize... there will never be peace enough to satisfy. There will never be a perfect moment in life where I can settle and be content. I had almost three years of near-perfection with a family who showered me with love. But I was still discontent and unhappy. I still blamed my past and what was coming for being unhappy in the moment.

I sit back against the tree, my muscles giving like liquid. What if the problem is not my circumstances... but me? Can joy really be so simple as that?