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IGS #4, Chapter 22
🕑 Added 2025-08-11 16:53:55 +0000 UTCScorio
Nezzar smashed across Scorio’s face like a thunderbolt. The force behind the blow was punishing. The world flared white and silver as Scorio staggered back, but the pain of the blow was nothing to the shock of Leonis’ words.
It’s your fault we died!
They reverberated in Scorio’s mind like tolling bell, overwhelming, panic-inducing, horrifying.
No blow followed the first. Scorio blinked away his daze, the pain becoming a profound ache in the side of his face, sinking into his draconic muzzle and half-blinding the eye that had been struck.
It’s your fault!
Scorio felt as if his very being, his essence, had been gripped by giant hands and squeezed, so that he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. The pain and raw outrage in Leonis’ voice had been a weapon in and of itself.
Blinking away the pain, he forced himself to focus. Leonis was pale, his eyes wide, Nezzar held still at the terminus of his cross-swing. In the big man’s eyes was a haunting of fear and a shock all of his own, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he’d done.
What he’d said.
Scorio righted himself, the pain becoming a deep ache, blood on his tongue, the fine scales across his maw split. His mind clamored, his thoughts thronged, but words failed him.
He just stared at the man who’d once been his best friend.
“I…” Leonis’ voice was husky, hesitant. “I was just seeking an advantage… surprise… to lower your guard…”
The words were like mist. Scorio disregarded them, sought to understand, to see, to pierce the man’s true intent.
“Do you…” He almost didn’t want to know. “Do you believe that?”
“I…” Despite having been the one to deliver the blow, Leonis was the one who looked dazed. “No. Of course not.”
That last was said rapidly, an assurance, too quick to feel real.
Scorio’s head began to pound. It had been a direct blow with all of Leonis’ strength behind it. Were he not Gold-tempered, were he not a Pyre Lord, there was no telling how much damage it might have done.
“I was thrown into the Crucible,” Scorio whispered. “They tricked me. Trapped me. Before you were killed.”
“I know.” Leonis voice grew sharper. “Of course. I know that.”
“They forced me to crush rocks for five months as part of their plan. The setup began all the way back at the White Queen’s Edicts.” Scorio didn’t even know what he was saying. He felt as if he were drowning and clutching at flotsam. “Praximar and Dameon, they planned it from the beginning. We were all their victims.”
“Look, I’m sorry.” Leonis tone grew forceful. “That was… that was uncalled for. A low blow. I’m sorry.”
“I… when I found your grave, I swore vengeance.” Scorio felt tears enter his eyes. “I’d have done anything to bring you back. Naomi and I, we killed everyone but Dameon to avenge you and Lianshi.”
Leonis began to back up. “Look, I’ve already apologized. I know all this. You don’t have to say it.”
But Scorio couldn’t stop himself. He felt nauseated, fascinated, drawn to Leonis’ attack like a moth to a flame.
Was it true?
Were Leonis and Lianshi’s deaths his fault?
“I… they used me to take down House Kraken. I was a tool. A scapegoat. They used me only because I was easy to fool, because I was friendly with the captain of the Celestial Coffer. I didn’t know. I didn’t know.”
What he wouldn’t give to have Naomi there with them, right now, by his side, backing him up, proving to Scorio that his memory was real, was accurate. Her ferocity, her passion, her everything. How he longed for it like never before.
Jova emerged from the depths of the cave at a jog, expression sober. “What happened? What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” protested Leonis. “I said something idiotic to get Scorio to lower his guard. It was… I shouldn’t have said it. But now he won’t shut up about it.”
Jova pinned Leonis in place with the intensity of her stare, then turned to Scorio. “You all right?”
Scorio felt helpless. “He blames me for his and Lianshi’s death.”
“He what?” She wheeled back to the Flame Vault. “You what?”
Leonis threw up his arms. “It was a damned battle ploy! And you know what? It worked! He should be thanking me. For revealing such a huge fucking weakness. If anybody used that against him in a real fight, he’d be a dead man.”
“No, you idiot.” Jova’s voice could have flayed stone. “Because it wouldn’t hit like that coming from anyone else. Why would you say such a thing?”
“All right, I’m done.” Nezzar disappeared from his hand. “I can’t apologize any more than I already have.”
Leonis managed three steps before the ground shuddered violently and a slab of rock erupted to form a blank wall before him a good three yards tall. Dust sifted off its sides, and Leonis was forced to stagger back to avoid being clipped under the chin.
“You’re not going anywhere,” said Jova.
“Oh, it’s like that, is it?” Leonis turned slowly, clenching and relaxing his fists. “Now you’re on his fucking side.”
“Yes,” said Jova, “I am on his side, especially on this. I was there, Leonis. In the chasm when it happened, but I was part of that camp and saw after what they had done to you. What they did to him. If there’s anybody you should be attacking it’s me, but to lash out at him..?!”
Leonis took a deep breath then crossed his arms and gave a slight nod, as if to say, go ahead, get this over with.
Jova stepped right up to him. “Scorio spent two years being tortured in the depths of the Crucible. Trapped in Ydrielle’s prism. Do you know what that even means?”
“Yeah, poor guy. Such a pity he got Gold-tempered out of it.”
Jova went very still. “I’m regretting bringing you with us all the more with each passing second.”
“Oh come on!” Leonis threw up his arms, eyes flashing. “You want me to feel sorry for him? For Scorio the Scourer? After all his successes, his fancy kills, his ridiculous growth?” Leonis glared at him over Jova’s shoulder. “Tell me it hasn’t all worked out in your favor, Sir Dragon-man. Friend of the fiends, beloved by Imperators, the talk of the damn town. Tell me you haven’t profited by every death you’ve left in your wake.”
Scorio forced himself to inhale. His chest felt shuddery, his body distant. The moment surreal. “Is that what you think?”
The fire in Leonis’ stare guttered and he looked away. “Sure looks like that from where I’m standing.”
“By the gods you’re an idiot,” said Jova. “Is this really who you are, Leonis? This infantile and bitter?”
“Me?” Leonis temper flared right back up as if Jova had poured oil over smoldering coals. “Me? Infantile? Do you know what I’ve had to deal with? What I’ve suffered? No. Of course not. Because it doesn’t involve tearing down Blood Barons and saving the world. But I’ve suffered, Jova, and I’ve not let it keep me down. I’ve used it as fuel. I’ve trained, I’ve toughened up, but that doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten.” He loomed over the smaller woman. “It doesn’t mean I forgive.”
Jova glared right back at him, uncowed. “And for what does Scorio owe you an apology? Manticore and Praximar’s evil?”
“They saw something in me!” Leonis’ roar shook the heavens as he flung his arm out wide. “They saw something in me, something that has only been ignored ever since! If they hadn’t been obsessed with him, I’d have continued to grow, I’d have fulfilled that promise, but instead he came along and set the whole Academy on fire. Poisoned Lianshi against me, and did it all without even thinking twice about it!”
At this Leonis raised his glare to Scorio. “Admit it! You’ve never once considered the consequences of your actions. How they might be fucking over everyone else. No. It’s always just about your glory. Your pain. Your losses.”
Scorio didn’t even know where to begin.
The ground around them began to shiver. Sand whispered as it shifted about. Leonis staggered back.
“You.” Jova’s voice was barely audible over the shaking earth. “Immature, pathetic, whining man-child. You think yourself the victim?”
The ground was actively shuddering now, waves of force causing the rock to ripple so that Scorio swayed with each judder.
“They lied to you about your worth! I was there! I saw them ply you with Fat Cricket and Peaceful Wheel elixirs. They stuffed you to the gills, and did you win a single tournament? Did you come first in anything?”
Leonis’ expression darkened.
“No. You didn’t. Because you’re not a legendary Great Soul. What’s the highest damned rank you’ve ever achieved, Leonis?” Jova stepped forward, driving Leonis back. “Pyre Lord. So what exactly are you saying they saw in you? Greatness? Or a useful, gullible, stupid tool they could use against Scorio?”
Leonis gaped, face flushing.
“The heavens know I have my issues with Scorio.” Her words were a whipcrack, the heaving ground beginning to settle. “But the last thing I’d accuse the man of is not caring for his friends. It’s his biggest damn weakness! Or so I’ve always thought. And you blame him for your failures? You blame him for your lack of progress?”
Leonis’ breath was coming faster and faster as he gave more ground, gaze darting from side to side.
“If you’re weak, it’s your own damn fault. If you lost Lianshi, it’s because she has a mind of her own and can make her own decisions. Take responsibility for your own damn life, Leonis, or get the hell out of my sight!”
Movement. Xandera, Kelona, and Nyrix stood staring, shocked, on the ridge above.
Leonis darted a look back at them, then glanced wildly about the cavern’s confines.
“I… he…” The man could barely catch his breath, much less respond.
But the sight of Leonis like this tore at Scorio’s heart. The sight of his former best friend cornered, defeated, panicked, made him sick.
“Leonis.” Jova stepped aside and glanced back at Scorio. It took the big man several efforts, but he finally met Scorio’s gaze. “I’m sorry.” The words were so bleak that they could have been carved into a tombstone. “In any way that I’ve failed you. Or your past self. For any pain I’ve caused. There was a time I’d have died for you. Died for you gladly. I wish…” His words almost failed him, caught in his throat like shards of glass. “I wish things could have been different. That Dameon and Praximar hadn’t used us. Killed you. That my killing Praximar could have repaired what he destroyed. But nothing can.”
Leonis’ eyes were glazed, but he forced himself to stand tall, some instinct, some inherent dignity, raising him out of his hunched stoop.
Scorio felt everything fall away.
There was Leonis and his own raw pain. His own dulled grief.
In this moment, nothing else mattered.
“So I’m sorry. For the Hell we live in. The monsters that people it. The events the crushed us, tore us apart, destroyed what we had. I’m sorry I wasn’t smarter. More perceptive. That I couldn’t be more. I’m sorry.”
Tears brimmed in Leonis’ eyes and he clenched his jaw. “Don’t fucking say that. Don’t you dare.”
Scorio had nothing left. Just the dull throb of pain in his jaw and along the side of his nose. Just the pain. He felt scraped to the rind and hollowed out, but he knew, to the very depths of his core, that he could meet Leonis grief-stricken gaze so laden with revulsion and horror forever if need be.
“I…” Leonis voice shook as the ground had done. Tears brimmed and ran down his cheeks.
Scorio nodded. He allowed his Heart to gutter and sank into his human form. Walked slowly past Jova, touching her shoulder as he went so that she fell in with him.
Together they walked toward the sleeping caverns.
Behind him came the sounds of Leonis desperately trying to stifle his emotions.
Up they climbed. Past Kelona and Nyrix who parted for him, and into the flame-lit interior. To move into his cavern and there stand in the gloom, each wrapped up in a cloak of deep thoughts and intensity.
The others moved tentatively into the cave mouth. Some distant part of his mind wanted to reassure them, set them at ease, but he couldn’t manifest the words. After a moment he simply sat, arms wrapped around his shins, and lost himself to a numb reverie.
No thoughts.
No memories.
Just the darkness in which endless memories waited to be replayed.
Xandera sat beside him and placed a warm hand on his arm. After a moment she drew closer and rested her head on his shoulder, her effulgent orange hair searing hot, but not unpleasantly so.
Kelona crouched by his other side, wet cloth in hand, and dabbed at the wound in the side of his face. The pain was distant.
Nobody spoke. It was as if they were all suspended in an eternal now.
Finally Jova seemed to come back to herself. “Everyone, give Scorio and me the cave.”
The others hesitated, then peeled away to retreat back outside.
Jova dropped into an easy crouch across from him. “How’s your head?”
“Healing just fine,” he said, reaching up to touch the bridge of his nose.
“Not what I meant.”
“I know. I’m… what can I say. That shook me up. He knew where to hit me.”
“It’s been long enough. If he doesn’t come inside and give you a real apology soon, I’m going to drag his ass back to LastRock and dump him there once we get out. I’ll meet you at the Red Keep.”
“Damn it.” Scorio considered. “Lianshi told me how twisted he was by everything that had happened, but…”
“Not your problem. You’ve been nothing but patient. If he can’t find his way back to the land of grown adults, that’s on him.”
“No, it is my problem. He’s not the Leonis I once knew, and I know he’ll never be that guy again, but… he started from the same place.” Scorio sighed. “And I still care. I still believe he’s a good guy.”
“You need to take him as he is, not as you want him to be.”
“Again, I disagree.” Scorio tried to put his inchoate feelings into words. “Think of it this way: the Leonis I once knew? He’d want me to help this new Leonis out. What I’m doing today is in honor of the friend I once had. I know it might be futile, but…”
Jova pursed her lips. “You know, up until today, what I told him outside was true: I’ve always thought you cared too much, and that was your biggest weakness. But no longer.”
Her tone was different, somehow, and caused Scorio to peer at her more closely. It was Jova, obviously, but somehow… more? Changed? He couldn’t put his finger on it. She seemed older, more weary, less… brittle?
Instinct finally kicked in, and he reached out with his Heart sense.
And saw.
“Oh damn,” he whispered.
“Yeah.” Her smile was bitter. “Your words pushed me to rethink my priorities. To…” She took a deep breath. “To grow up. It’s funny, isn’t it? How we can go on, thinking we’re the most mature, adult person in the room, yet not realize just how willfully blind we actually are.”
“You’re telling me,” said Scorio softly.
Jova smiled at that. “I…” She paused, considered, took a breath, exhaled. “I’m a Pyre Lady now. And I think, perhaps in my case, at any rate, that means I’ve integrated who I am, who I came into Hell as. It ended up not being so much about my powers—finding a final form, or evolving into something new—so much as breaking down some walls and understanding myself better.”
Scorio nodded along, studying her carefully. She was different. Gone was the brash harshness, the… the sharp willingness to judge, to—it was hard to put his finger on it. She looked less tense. Less high strung. Less ready to take offense.
She fell back gently out of her crouch to sit against the cave wall and stared down at her hands. “I… well, obviously, had my Pyre Lady vision. My previous trials had all been about staving off conquest. I’d been a queen, in my first life. And right up till my Dread Blaze trial I was fighting off against impossible odds, trying to…” She trailed off.
“I know what you mean. It was the same with me. I was leading a rebellion against a cruel king. Each trial saw me accomplishing more even as I made ever greater sacrifices. My Pyre Lord vision…” He trailed off, recalling the King’s Scepter dying beneath his flames. “I won, yet I lost everything. That’s when he came.”
“The Archmagus.” Jova nodded pensively. “He came as I was building a—a monument, of sorts, to my… to my loss.” Her brow furrowed, and for a moment her breath caught, and Scorio sensed a depth of pain, a gulf of grief that yawned impossibly wide within her. But then she caught herself, forcibly inhaled and looked up. “He made a pretty speech about saving the innocents of tomorrow, and recruited me to his war.”
“Yeah,” agreed Scorio. “Sounds about right.”
“But that doesn’t matter.” She lowered her gaze to where she was rubbing a thumb into the other palm. “What matters is… I understand myself better, now. I’m still… me. Still… wary of being hurt.” She was picking each word with great care, with exacting deliberation. “Still… unwilling to form new attachments.” She paused, reflecting, then smiled bitterly. “I say ‘new’, even though it’s been almost a millennium and a half since… well.” She shook her head with wry amusement. “It’s been a long time since those losses. But in other ways, clearly, not. I’m still living with them. But now. As a Pyre Lady.” She glanced up at him, fixed him with her stare. “Now I understand the way grief has shaped me. Why I’ve desired to be hard, unyielding, to not trust, to not…” She trailed off, her expression turning helpless, and shrugged. “To not let others grow close enough to hurt me in that way again.”
Scorio listened, intent, and her words found a mirror in his soul. “I came into this life angry. Consumed by rage. It defined me for far too long.” He thought of all the mad risks he’d taken, the suicidal wagers, the fury with which he’d dared destruction again and again. “But now it’s less anger that governs me, and more… I don’t know, loss. Moira spoke to me about it. There’s a name for it. The Winnowing. It’s something that happens to all Great Souls as they advance deeper into Hell. We lose people that are important to us. We suffer. And that suffering causes us to lose…” He tried to remember Moira’s exact words. “To lose the willingness to be hurt again. I think… it sounds like you came into Hell as a Char already suffering from this condition.”
Jova stared stonily down at her palms, and for a moment Scorio feared he’d dared too much, but then she nodded. “You might be right. Some losses are carved too deeply into the soul, such that even amnesia fails to erase the mark. But.” Again she took a sharp breath. “But I’m aware of it now.” She frowned. “I’m a Pyre Lady, and won’t be blind to my own… my own injuries.”
“So this mean you’re going to start buying people drinks and making friends left and right?”
Jova raised her gaze slowly to stare at him with subdued lethality.
“No?” Scorio forced a grin. “All right, just asking.”
“This means I’m…” Again she hesitated. “That I now admire you for the risks you’ve taken. In letting others in. In opening yourself to pain. Lianshi, Leonis, Naomi, that young man… Alain? Xandera. All the people you’ve allowed to get close to you. All the pain that’s brought. I used to scorn you as short sighted. Now I see that was real wisdom, real bravery. Daring to make a new friend after suffering such loss is the true mark of courage.”
“Thanks,” said Scorio softly.
“I’m going to try and do better.” She frowned fiercely as she looked away. “I… I still need to parse out how everything has changed for me. My single-minded pursuit of power is still a natural drive, as is my fear of… well. Other people.” She smirked. “I can’t just will those instincts away. But I can master them. And I think the first step on that path is to apologize, Scorio. To you. For my behavior, for my suspicion, my scorn, and how I failed so miserably at understanding the code by which you were trying to live your life.”
She tore her gaze back to meet his own, and her eyes were filled with raw emotion. Tears glimmered in them, and her lips were seamed into a tight line.
He didn’t know what to say. The air in the cavern grew tense, charged, but he didn’t look away, either. So much had passed between them since they awoke in the Academy. She’d been a rival, then an ally, then a mortal enemy, and now?
“Thank you, Jova.” His voice was hushed. “I appreciate that. I’d like to think we can be friends. Moving forward.”
“Moving forward,” she agreed, and the way her smile changed her face was unlike any expression he’d ever seen on her visage before. Never had she seemed so… human, so tentatively warm, so… real. “Let’s give it a shot.”
He met her smile, and something in him eased, some pain that Leonis had riled up, some terror. He thought of Moira’s warnings, her fear over his losses, and realized that he’d just taken a very important in a new direction. Away from self-castigation, from growing hard, from growing bitter.
A step toward healing.
“But hey, making Pyre Lady has clearly not just been a feel-good step,” he said at last. “What was with your tearing a wall out of the ground? And making the whole cavern shake like that?”
Her smile grew smug. “Fine. My mastery over stone may have improved just a little.”
“How much?”
Her expression grew momentarily distant, as if she were seeing something in her mind, and then she returned to the moment. “Quite a lot, in fact. Before I could only work with loose stones. Now rock in general obeys my will.”
And her Heart Ignited, a palpable whoomph of Silver-tinged might that blazed against Scorio’s awareness like a bonfire.
And the cave around them changed.
The rough walls and sharp angles receded, smoothing over, even as the daggers of rock in the ceiling retracted. The floor grew even, and in moments they were seated in a perfect square chamber, the cave mouth narrowing to a door way whose top rose to a form an arch.
“Damn,” said Scorio, gazing around himself in wonder. “That was quick.”
“I…” She exhaled. “I once had a penchant for decoration. Art in stone. But I…” She considered the walls, the archway, and shook her head. “Not any longer. But I can work with detail, as well.”
“How much does this shift our ability to get out of this cavern?”
“Quite a lot.” Jova’s tone was calm, factual. “We should let some Silverines in here for me to test my powers on.”
“Deal,” agreed Scorio, growing excited. “Between you and me, perhaps we can fight a way out for the rest.”
“Yeah.” She smiled sadly. “I think we can do that. But first you need to go try and patch things up with Leonis. We’re not going anywhere till that problem is taken care of.”
“Yeah. All right.” Scorio rose to his feet and took in the perfectly shaped room once more. “Incredible,” he said, and then left the chamber with a smile.
Progress.
Moving out onto the ridge, he stared out across the cavern. Leonis had wandered a good distance away, and stood with his head bowed, little more than a shadowed figure, hands on his hips.
Scorio could imagine him remaining thus till the end of the war on the Pit, lost in the storms of his own mind.
“Damn it, Leonis,” he whispered, and dropped down to the cavern floor to make his way toward the other man.
Whose face was riven with deep emotion, his brow furrowed, his lips tightened to a line. Dust had caked in the tears that had run down his cheeks, and he flicked the quickest of glances at Scorio before grimacing and looking away.
“I’ve been an idiot,” said Leonis at last, voice raw.
Scorio crossed his arms and said nothing, contenting himself with staring out into the depths of the cave alongside him.
“You can get so deep into something,” said Leonis at last. “You can get so lost in a way of thinking that you start needing to be right no matter what. The journey that got you there, to that dark place, feels so heavy, cost you so much, that to admit you might be wrong…” He shook his head. “It makes you willfully blind. Purposefully stupid. And what’s worse, it can feel good. The self-pity. The… self-righteous me-against-the-world nonsense that you tell yourself is true. Anger can feel good. Hate.”
Leonis sighed. “While you’re in it, at least. Because the moment you step outside its shadow, you realize… you realize maybe it felt good because it stopped you from looking at yourself. Maybe it felt right because it’s better than taking the blame. To accept you’re just not that…” His voice shook and he bit off the last words.
Scorio wanted to say something. To put his hand on the other man’s shoulder. But he held back. Instinct told him to stay still.
“That you’re just not that good.” Leonis forced the words out. “Jova was right. I can’t deny that Praximar gave me every treasure and pill and I still fell short. Looking at it now, it’s amazing that I found a way to believe his lies. That I was special. That the Golden King was a legendary Great Soul come again.”
Scorio’s heart ached at the pain in his friend’s voice.
“I…” He trailed off again. “I wanted it to be true. And while at the Academy, it was, it felt like a fact, so I didn’t even push myself. As if his words were a self-fulfilling prophecy, you know? If you’re destined to be the best, then you don’t have to work that hard. Fate will do the heavy lifting.
“But it didn’t. And then everything fell apart. And it became easier to blame you, even if my blame didn’t make sense, then to look in the mirror and see… this. Me. Staring right back.”
He hung his head. “Fuck. I don’t even know how I got this far out into the wilderness. This lost. Each step made sense. Anger and bitterness and resentment and this like… poisoned faith in my own greatness. It kept me going, making each next step logical, even if the chain of logic fell apart the moment I looked more than a couple of steps behind me.”
At this he finally did look at Scorio, eyes raw with grief. “I’m sorry. I’m not the friend you had. I’m weaker. I’m…” He exhaled. “I’ve made a shitshow of just about everything I’ve put my hand to. But… at least I see it now. At least I can apologize before it’s too late.”
“Apology accepted.” A vast and inchoate ocean of emotions arose with Scorio, and there was so much he wanted to share with Leonis, to tell him. About Naomi and her slide down to madness that he’d failed to stop. About Dameon and how easily he’d tricked Scorio into busting rocks and implementing his plan aboard the Celestial Coffer. About the madness that besieged his mind in the Crucible. The moments of pain, of loss, of sorrow.
Leonis grunted and looked away. “Once we get out of here, I can make it back to LastRock. I’ll stick to the Red Road. Or perhaps I’ll just head south to the Red Keep on foot alone. It’s fine either way. The Red Road’s safe.”
“You’re not heading out alone, at least, not on my account.” Scorio reached out and punched the other man’s shoulder lightly. “I might not know this version of you that well. But what you just said, what you just did, it’s the kind of tough honesty that made your previous self a man I could trust. That I wanted standing by my side when things began to fall apart. So. If you’re up for it, I say we give this partnership a second chance.”
Doubt, hesitation, and even something akin to skepticism flashed across Leonis’ face. “You serious?”
“Yeah I am.” Scorio gazed back out into the darkness. “One thing I’ve learned in this life is that you don’t let go of good people lightly. They’re few and far between. And you’re good people, Leonis. Maybe in this life you got your head turned by lies, but that doesn’t change who you are at your core. A good person. So what do you say? Willing to give this a second shot?”
Leonis hung his head even as he tongued his cheek. “I mean, how did I go about getting you so wrong?”
“Probably because we’ve just not had much of a chance to get to know each other, this go round.”
“Or I’m just that big of an idiot.” He inhaled sharply and gave a curt nod. “I’ll travel some more with you, if you’ve the tolerance for it.”
“I do.” Scorio extended his hand.
Leonis considered it for a moment, and then engulfed it in his own massive mitt.
They shook, and then Scorio turned back to the caves. “Jova’s eager to test her new Pyre Lady powers. If she’s as powerful now as I think, there’s a good chance we’ll be getting out of here soon.”
“She made Pyre Lady?” Leonis gazed back at the cave mouths, but there was no sign of her. “Damn. Good for her. I guess… chalk up another example of my not understanding your relationship with people.”
“You mean the shouting, before?” Scorio shrugged. “Oh, I make my share of mistakes. Perhaps that time, however, I voiced some necessary truths.”
Leonis chuckled roughly. “So it would seem.”
“Let’s get some food and then prepare for the some Silverines. I want out of this cave. You ready?”
Leonis took a deep breath, then wiped the tear tracks away from his broad cheeks. “Ready.”
They trudged back to the caves. Nyrix and Kelona looked spooked, clearly aware of great changes afoot but unsure as to the details.
“We’re all good,” called Scorio when they were close enough. “All good.”
Leonis stayed quiet, but nodded when Jova emerged from her cave to stare down at him.
“Fine,” she said. “I’m trusting Scorio on this one. And kicking myself for not having seen it before now. You’re going to shape up?”
“Yes,” was all Leonis said.
“That’s all I need to hear. If we’re done, I want to experiment with my Pyre Lady powers. I’m tired of this cave, and I want out.”
“Pyre Lady?” asked Nyrix, stunned. “You just made…?”
Jova smirked. “Ask Scorio to yell at you some time. It’s surprisingly salutary. But yes.” She placed one hand inside the other, and cracked her knuckles. “It’s time to see what I can do.”
Comments
Ben Parton
This was my absolute favourite chapter so far. Seeing Leonis like this and glimpses of the real one coming through is incredibly emotional - well done Phil. It‘s a tough one and making me feel…. things. But beautiful!
Jeremy Pace
That being said, this was my favorite chapter so far
