When she reached the stone steps that led into the courtyard, Coneti reeled. The heat was a vicious, hungry thing, and the flames were already spreading without restraint in all but one of the main buildings of Syaan's temple. The trees and bushes in the courtyard were alight. The palinien wax in the cellars would only carry the blaze onward.
That morning, Gryffin's Peak was a beacon.
The courtyard showed no sign of the fire's origin, but many of its victims. One whom she had cooked with the previous morning. One whom she had sparred with upon the temple stairs last week. One whom they had encountered half-dead on the mountain road just the past month. Names flew by, names that might never touch a gravestone, that would burn up in her memory like paper.
She had lived here long enough to recognise the faces. They were burnt, but each of them bore wounds. And some, like the beast she had hunted, were the stamp of an angel.
Where was Syaan?
The stairs to the meditation room were ablaze. But she did not need to climb them. The table had fallen. Mosaic stones had chafed in the heat and tumbled out of it. Above, she could see the cracked ceiling, and through it, the meditation room. There was no sign that Syaan might still be up there.
A little garden in view of the communal dining hall. The archway of the building beside it had fallen so it lay aslant. Bridging the roof and a patch where flowers had once stood and now lay about uprooted.
Beneath it, Syaan lay, pierced by several arrows.
Syaan was lying in white and gray prayer robes. She couldn't see if he was alive.
A couple other arrows lay to one side, arrows with trace stains of blood.
The arrowheads were ethereally golden. Her fingertip brushed one.
She gasped sharply.
There was a whir of sensation. For a moment, it was as though far too many sounds and sights assaulted her. The world around her spun. Even the taste of the air was uncomfortably vivid. Then, it died like.
"DisAether," Syaan grunted. He was doing his best to sit up. "Best you don't touch it."
"Syaan, what happened?"
"I believe your guests showed up."
"Don't put the blame for that on me. I told you they were no good."
"I know. I was caught off guard."
"I didn't think that was possible."
Still. Lupe wouldn't put fire to the entire temple for no reason. He couldn't possibly have a grudge so deep-seated against her. He might, but there still didn't. He could, but he didn't take undue risks.
The angel. He must be working for the angel.
Syaan tried to get up again, but collapsed with a whumph. His breath came out in wheezes.
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"Syaan, steady. You're hurt." That in itself was worrying. The man was immortal; he recovered from injuries faster than anyone she had seen.
"I think I can walk, but not much else for. Unless you need me to talk some sense into someone."
"Seems you already tried that and probably failed."
Syaan grimaced.
"Tell me where the angel is."
"I think it isn't."
"I'm not worried about you. Well, I'm worried you'll.
"Syaan, I can handle it."
Syaan nodded, though he seemed hesitant to meet her eyes. "Some Fae imitator if I had to guess."
"That's easy. I've faced real angels before. What's a fake one."
"Don't be caught off guard."
"Lupe, don't do that."
"Connie. I wish you hadn't come back. I was hoping we'd be gone sooner than that."
"It was a favour."
"No witnesses. And of course, Syaan dies."
"Were you trying to hire me to kill my own friend?"
Lupe looked away down the mountain slope. "Nah. I knew I couldn't make you do that."
"??"
"Besides, we've both killed friends before."
"It seems like you've given another chance for that."
Lupe nodded to her. Then, he crouched. He armed himself with a little flourish, his knife of choice settled into his hand. He raised his duelling gauntlet. It was metal. She couldn't warp it.
Lupe raised the gauntlet. "Let there be no more apologies."
"Let there be none," Coneti agreed, "And no more restraint."
Lupe lunged.
Coneti caught the blow.
As Lupe died, he reached out and gripped Coneti's arm like the vice of mortality. "Connie, Connie. I knew nothing less than this was coming for me."
"Lupe, you really couldn't have. There's so much land out there."
"Ah, you know. You can't escape
"We never really worked out."
"Fuck you, Lupe."
"Piteous mortal.
"Humanity is an old friend and enemy."
"But I find."
Wings of angelic light sprouted from her shoulders. For the moment, she knew exactly what she looked like. A harbinger. Fatigue faded from her. For as long as this angel faced her, she would only let a long- fury fuel her.
This angel was not a Protector. Syaan was correct. It was a Fake.
Her voice took on true angelic potency. Her words reverberated even through the Ghost Plane as she spoke.
"Kneel."
The angel cowered for a second.
"That power does... does not abolish mine own. You know not whence it comes. All I see before me is a slave trying on their master's crown. It does not fit your-"
Coneti spat in the angel's face.
"Are you a dog of the Protectors?"
"I am no dog. You-"
"Answer."
The angel quailed. This time, it answered. "Yes. Hail to you from the Forefather."
The name was an unfamiliar one. "Does this Forefather have a messge."
"I do not promise vengeance. I once returned every drop of blood spilled. But these days, I am actually quite tired. If I have a mind to, I will pay them a visit. But I may be merciful."
"I will let the Forefather know."
"Hm? Oh, this is not a message. I am merely speaking aloud. To no one in particular." Coneti swung her blade. Angelic fire spilled once, twice. The rush of using the Voice faded from her. The wings
Coneti nursed her leg. The cut was deep, but hadn't touched bone.
"There is a contemporary of mine. Sceth may see ."
"Skyford? I'd have to head into the city?"
"You could."
"No. I have not heard the sword's call in a long time. I regret that it is still a comforting sound."
"We do not make war. But the sword is not merely for bringing death. You may be one for whom it is peace."
"How you say such things with a straight face is truly beyond me."
"The Academe is also within the Belt-Doral. Skyford will take you directly there. But I have my qualms about the thing. It is something called a train. It was not around when you wer.
"Yes, I've heard from the traders who come for scented candles. Like a carriage without horse, and loud as a riotous devil."
"I've been there. The city has grown louder too."
"Perhaps we will rebuild the temple. Or we may find our fortunes on the road."
"I do not think you linger when you mourn."
"I want to know." She looked at Syaan. She knew he had a past too. The rational part of her told her to travel along. To ask now. But she looked at him. The cold part of her was quiet. So she kept silent.
She stood there, looking at the horse.
She was grateful when Syaan walked closer and opened his arms. They embraced, and she began to take the long road South.