The hunter’s sad words twisted in Jigano’s stomach, a warning – an omen, as it turned out. Ronin rose as the team closed in, the construct that was the demon laughing as it died, as the combined might of the mortals’ courage and bravery and strength closed around it like a net from which there was no escape—
No escape for Ronin, either, as the battlefield bloomed with a fiery flower that knocked back the team and forced the watchers to look away or close their eyes against the brightness. When sight returned five figures still stood, but one was covered in stars and the man she stood beside… Oh.
Oh no.
Training prevailed, though the bard’s heart quailed within him. He stood statue-still, face pale but composed. The only sign of his protest was in the strength of the hand that gripped Rory’s, as if holding on to a lifeline in a storm-tossed sea. On his shoulder Isuma trembled, a soft keening piping from her tiny beak as they watched the distant farewells and then the final moment, as Ronin rose in light and starstuff to join the heavens above.
What did one do, in the moments that followed? What could one say? A good man had died, but with his death had freed the people of Caido from a demon that had stalked their world as long as the barrier had kept them confined. Some might say his death was worth it – that no one else would fall to the depredations of the mad guardian, and what was the life of one man (one Outlander) to the dozens who had fallen before, and the uncounted number who would live now? But for those who had known and loved him… it had been a price Ronin had been willing to pay, but not one that they had.
Already they began to scatter, the Spire forgotten in the daze of trying to come to terms with what had happened. No one rushed the obelisk immediately, for which Jigano gave a quick prayer of thanks to gods who could not hear him. ”We will need time to mourn,” he said softly, though whether he was speaking to Rory or himself even he couldn’t say. ”And then… to plan. There will be many who are afraid. And a great deal of anger… And there will be consequences, no matter what we choose… But…” He choked off the words, shaking his head as if to force away the emotions that pressed down on him, almost too strong to bear. Sadness for the man who was lost, exultation for the victory his sacrifice had bought them, a wild hope of a future free of the barrier… and a cold fear of what they might be unleashing on the world in their bid for survival.
Feeling overwhelmed and inexplicably lost under the weight of it all, he trailed off into silence, leaning against Rory’s shoulder and watching the crowd disperse, too distracted to notice the way the Ascended flitted among each other, and too distraught to find the words to heal the breach between naturals and outlanders that had sundered vast cracks through a community that now, of all times, could not afford to be divided.
