But it’s not until he and the rest of his crew disappear between the buildings and leave me standing alone in the courtyard that the word rings clear in my mind. It takes on a new voice though, not my uncle’s, not mine.
My mother’s.
Imryll, I remember, had been her last dying word.
And my uncle, a man who I may never see again, might’ve been the only person who could’ve told me what it meant.
Of One Country, Of One Blood
Female Dormitory, Castle of Nigh, Arcathain
Sitting, hunched over the edge of my cot, I twirl the letter over in my hand and read it for the dozenth time since its arrival this morning.
Dearest Halira,
It is not customary for Senators to attend the induction of the Shadow Crusade’s newest members, but seeing as you are family, the Magistrate has made an exception. By the time you receive this letter, I expect we’ll be just a few days away.
Until then,
With love,
Senator Kalli Devonshire
By her standards, the letter is quite heartfelt. The fact that she would address me as dearest and sign it with love might speak to a certain emotional development since the last time we spoke. But I doubt it. I can’t help but notice the clipped, formal tone, and the fact that she still signed her name with her professional title. And surname.
I scoff. My sister takes too much pride in her work. Although, I suppose soon I’ll come to understand what that’s like. After today, I will no longer be a mere recruit, I will no longer be the orphaned young woman who abandoned her late parents’ professions on a whim that would’ve given her mother constant heartache. No, after this evening, I will be a true member of the Shadow Crusade, and I have Maxwell to thank for that.
Once the Crusaders found us, and once we were able to finally rouse him, Maxwell had insisted I keep Sai’s shadowsteel sword for myself. Not only did he say he understood what was at stake—that Alphonse had rigged the day so that he and I both, as well as a few others, would never complete our task—but he also insisted that he was actually looking forward to his service at the castle.
“What’s a few chores, if it means I have a roof over my head, and I never, ever have to step foot in the Shadowthorn again. Besides, think of how much I can learn from the scholars!” he’d said animatedly.
I didn’t press him further. I didn’t want to risk convincing him he was making a mistake. And though I mourned our friend Sai, there was no way I was letting grief prevent me from seizing my one chance at a place among the Crusaders. I would rather choose a life chasing demons through the Shadowthorn than being shackled to the castle, a place that will soon be swallowed by the Shadowthorn and overrun with demons anyway.
I’d presented the shadowsteel sword to Alphonse the moment he arrived. The look of disdain he gave me is still seared in my mind. I don’t know why I thought that even he would be able to see past his hatred to approve of me just once in his life. After all, I’d saved one of his recruits; I’d slain the most terrifying, enormous demon I’d ever laid eyes on; and as far as Alphonse and the other Crusaders were concerned, I then took out four demons on my own, as well.
Few Crusaders begin their careers with such feats under their belts, but leave it to our general to give a careless wave of his hand and say smugly that he is still considering who will be nominated for the unit and who is better suited for the castle. There hadn’t been time to argue. There hadn’t even been time to gather Sai’s lifeless body. Demons snarled from the surrounding trees, and we’d fled Ashenvale before there could be any more casualties.
But that was a couple of days ago now. I wouldn’t have to guess for much longer who Alphonse would allow among his ranks.
Just as doubt starts to creep in of what my future might or might not entail, there’s a knock at the door.
Dimitri peeks his head inside, a worried look scrunching his browline until he sees that I am the only one inside. He’s likely already been to the dining hall, and upon discovering my absence, asked one of my roommates—likely Silver—where he could find me.
He’s clad in the same black leathers we’ve worn every day for the last couple of months, but he’s never looked more handsome than he does now. He’s cleaned up the scruff on his chin and reshaven the sides of his head. The oils and wildflowers he must’ve bathed in this morning linger on his skin and waft all the way across the room to tantalize me. I don’t think he’s ever been this clean in his entire life. It suits him. Being a Crusader suits him. He already carries himself with the duty and commitment of one. All he’s missing now is the Shadow Crusade sigil on his chest.
“You ready?” he asks, slowly walking into the room. He doesn’t try hiding the way he’s looking at me, how his eyes rove over my freshly brushed hair, his nostrils flaring at the scent of rose petals that wafts from my skin.
I keep my gaze lowered when I stand from the bed, playing coy as I meet him in the walkway.
“What do you think?”
He chokes on his tongue. “I—you—I think you look great.”
I flush despite myself and meet his eyes. For years, his meadow gaze has comforted me, and I let myself fall into it now, giving myself over to the promise of warmth and comfort I find there.
“Can I confess that I’m worried?” I say into his shoulder.
He slides his arms around my lower back and squeezes. “You have nothing to fear. You fought a formidable shadowcreature and survived. You killed four more demons afterward. And because of you, Maxwell lives to see another day, and the Shadow Crusade gets to keep one more of their Crusaders. General Alphonse can do nothing but reward you with a position on the unit.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.” Dimitri grabs my shoulders and gently pushes me back so that he can look me in the eyes as he says, “I promise you. Nothing is more important to the Shadow Crusade than having worthy fighters out in the field. You proved yourself yesterday, Halira. Any petty childhood grudges he held toward you, they don’t matter as much to him as ensuring we have the best chance at defeating Qaeus, and I don’t know how you did it, but you proved that you are one of our best chances.”
Guilt seizes my chest and makes me avert my gaze again. Dimitri mistakes it for yet another of my humble denials and kisses my cheek, but that’s because he doesn’t know the truth. No one does. Once the Crusaders arrived, I had no choice but to act as if I’d killed every shadowcreature by myself, lest risk blowing my uncle’s cover. Alphonse would’ve delighted in hunting him down. What better prize could a boy eager to please his father deliver to him: the outcast, fugitive brother found wandering the Shadowthorn like he truly fits in among demons better than he does the rest of Arcathain.
And so, I told the lie that most of the Crusaders while walking up to me—covered in demon blood and quaking—already believed anyway. I had wanted to tell Dimitri the truth; I had. But I feared his unyielding sense of responsibility might cause him to confess that I’d been lying.
He grips my chin between his fingers, and I can barely look at him. I hate lying, especially to him. Once our places in the newest unit of Crusaders are solidified, I plan on telling him everything. He’ll be disappointed, I know he will, but hopefully he’ll find it in his heart to forgive me knowing that I only lied so that we could stay together.