14. Sarilian
fourteen
Sarilian
It was surreal returning to Twilight after more than a year away. While the other Celestial delegates seemed determined to ignore as much of the city as possible, their eyes glued forward and their backs rigid with disapproval, Sarilian couldn't help his roving gaze.
The shadowed streets appeared simultaneously familiar yet strange, like a half-remembered dream. Without a darkvision enchantment, he could only make out the vaguest outlines of the shifting embellishments he knew surrounded them.
Passing Infernals gave them a wide berth. Most acted like they didn't even exist, and a few even sniffed or turned up their noses. Disparaging whispers followed in the delegation's wake.
Still, the city felt teeming with life in a way Daybreak's carefully curated streets rarely did. Such vibrancy had once thrilled Sarilian. But after everything that had happened, he'd come to appreciate Daybreak's quiet serenity. It seemed safer somehow, more comforting—a reminder that, even when he felt like he was falling apart, the rest of the realm stood firm.
And if sometimes, alone in his room beneath the Dawnlands' eternal day, he recalled Malorg's icy lips and gentle touch, longing for the many hours they'd spent talking and enjoying each other's company…well, that only offered more proof why he had to stay away. If he'd seen Malorg again, he hadn't known if he'd be strong enough to make the right choice again.
Are you strong enough now?
The question taunted him as their procession reached the spiked crown of the Dusk Citadel and strode up curved black steps reminiscent of a colossal spine. His hand strayed upward to where his duskflame pendant lay concealed beneath his clothes. Though months in the Dawnlands had dulled its magic, the necklace pulsed now like a frigid heartbeat against his breast—yet another remnant of his time here he hadn't been able to completely let go.
After that doomed conversation near the rift into the Shroud, Sarilian had distracted himself the only way he knew how by throwing himself into his duties. He'd signed up for every available voidspawn excursion, devoted every scrap of his free time to assisting Darius until he was certain the Aspect must be growing sick of his near-constant presence.
A year passed until thoughts of Malorg were reserved only for rare moments of rest or when his duties took him too close to the wavering border that separated light and dark: an eternal reminder of what could never be. But then the Dusk Council's request for aid had spread through Daybreak like wildfire. And Sarilian, fool that he was, had begged Darius until the Aspect of Justice relented and put in a good word for him. Thus had Sarilian been appointed the Dawn Emissary, with Darius and Faeris to round out his other two delegates.
"No matter the outcome, this represents a rare training opportunity," Darius had told him, his voice begrudging. "Few Celestials are granted such unparalleled access into the Dusklands. We can learn much about our fair-weather friends for when hostilities resume."
The look Darius had given him implied that he thought such an outcome inevitable. The Aspect had made no secret of his disapproval for the Accords or Sarilian's involvement, and Sarilian hadn't forgotten their previous conversation about Malorg. Darius likely worried he'd prove a liability.
Truth be told, Sarilian feared the same. His sympathies for the Infernals might make him a good emissary, but they'd also make him easy to manipulate. Especially when he'd be facing an enormous distraction.
Said distraction weighed on him as he took his seat in the conference chamber that had been chosen for their negotiations. The rest of the delegation clustered around him, there to offer advice and present a united front against the Infernals. Faeris took the chair to his left while Darius himself sat to his right. The Aspect of Justice claimed he'd come to represent the Dawn Council in the proceedings, but Sarilian suspected it was just as much to keep an eye on him.
Requesting Malorg as the Dusk Emissary had seemed the noble thing to do at the time. After all, peace between Celestials and Infernals had been Malorg's dream long before it had been Sarilian's. And if rewriting the Covenant together offered them both some much-needed closure, well—so much the better. No matter how confidently Sarilian believed in his decision, he worried about Malorg. The last thing he wanted was to leave him in pain.
A pat on his arm jerked Sarilian from his reverie. He glanced over to find Darius giving him a firm look. "Relax, Sarilian. We've practiced oratory and memorized Infernal customs. We've strategized about what concessions they might request and devised potential counteroffers. We have a list of the Dawn Council's terms, both primary and secondary, to drive the Accords. You are as prepared as you will ever be. I know you will make us proud."
The praise sent a flush of warmth through Sarilian. He nodded gratefully to Darius. Thank you, he meant to say, but what came out instead was, "I hope so, sir."
The soft slide of the doors whispered from the chamber's far end, announcing a new arrival. Sarilian's breath caught in his throat. Malorg was as handsome as he remembered, his narrow face stern and his lithe body full of deadly grace as he stalked across the floor to take his seat between two other Infernals that had yet to say a word.
Malorg clearly hadn't seen him yet, and as the Infernal introduced himself and bantered with Darius, Sarilian took the opportunity to study his former lover. Was it his imagination, or was Malorg's pale face more drawn, his eyes full of a heavier weariness?
He'd certainly dressed up for the occasion—Sarilian had never seen him in anything other than his hunting clothes. The new outfit looked good, slim-fitting and stylish, though Sarilian couldn't help but think of it as out of place, like someone had shoved a skirt on a voidspawn.
Eventually, Malorg turned his attention toward Sarilian, no doubt curious about the opposing emissary. His squinted expression made it clear he struggled to pierce the glow of dawnflame, so Sarilian ordered their lanterns dimmed, ignoring the other delegates' murmured complaints.
It's not like the lights did them much good anyway—most of the Dusklands' beauty remained shrouded, its scintillating patterns dulled to their eyes. If only Darius and the others could see the realm unveiled in all its glory as he had.
His gaze met Malorg's, and the Infernal's eyes widened as if he'd seen a ghost. Sarilian swallowed, gathering himself. I can do this. I can be strong—for my people, for peace, and for Malorg's dream.
"Honored Emissary," he said, inclining his head in a show of politeness Darius had drilled into him. "My name is Sarilian. Pleased to meet you."
He'd spent many restless nights considering how best to handle this reunion, but in the end, feigning polite interest had seemed the safest course. If anyone, even Darius, realized the full extent of their existing relationship, it could ruin any hope of reconciliation.
Facing Malorg now, however, it took every ounce of Sarilian's restraint to maintain his composure. For a moment, he thought he caught the same desperate longing he felt reflected in Malorg's slate-gray orbs. Then, the Infernal's face hardened, and Sarilian was left wondering if it had only been wishful thinking.
"Emissary," Malorg said, his voice coolly detached. "If you are ready, let us begin."
Sarilian blinked, taken aback by the lack of pleasantries. He'd thought…well, he wasn't entirely sure. But as he settled back in his seat, he supposed the lack of a warm welcome shouldn't surprise him. Not after how they'd left things.
Maybe later, he'd get a chance to talk to Malorg in private and smooth things over. Until then, if Malorg wanted to keep things strictly professional, even brusque, all the better. It would help maintain their cover.
"Very well," Sarilian said. "As you know, we are here at the Dusk Council's request to discuss terms for a revised Covenant between Celestials and Infernals." He gestured to Darius. "On behalf of the Aspect of Justice and the rest of the Dawn Council, I would like to extend our gratitude for this chance to visit your fair city, as well as your openness to reconciliation—even if it does come during a time of grave peril. Together, I have no doubt we can reach an amicable arrangement beneficial to both sides so that we may face this latest voidspawn threat united in harmony."
Sarilian paused for dramatic effect, glancing over at Darius to catch his subtle nod of approval. They had worked and reworked that opening speech countless times over the preceding days to ensure it conveyed an appropriate degree of support without making them appear too weak.
As he waited for Malorg's response, however, doubt oozed through him like a thick layer of sludge. The Infernal delegation showed no reaction at all to his words, not even the flicker of a smile. Malorg simply stared, his expression unreadable.
Swallowing, Sarilian continued. "Toward that end, I have prepared a series of talking points that represent the Dawn Council's primary concerns. If it pleases the Dusk Emissary, I propose we begin there to ease into what promises to be a fruitful discussion."
Again, no response.
Annoyance flared around the edges of Sarilian's nerves. What is Malorg doing? The Infernal must know enough about politics to realize the impression his stony silence would convey to the rest of the Celestial delegation.
Indeed, Sarilian could already hear the disapproving murmurs from the guards and sense Darius' rising tension. The Dawn Council might be magnanimous, but even they wouldn't commit to talks they believed a waste of time.
If Sarilian wasn't careful, these negotiations might collapse before they'd even begun.
He tightened his jaw. "I take that as a yes," he said dryly. "First, we feel it important to clarify that we view any proposed alliance as a partnership between equals. Thus, while we are happy to offer our aid against any present or future voidspawn threat, we would expect the Dusk Council to respond in turn: an equal exchange for an equal exchange. It is only fair."
To Sarilian's astonishment, Malorg instantly shook his head. "Impossible. Our estimates place your numbers at nearly three times our own, with a higher percentage of them dedicated to combat. Should we be required to match that contribution, we'd need to dedicate a far greater portion of our population. Equal, perhaps, but hardly fair. If you have three times as many soldiers, then you should field three times as many in each battle."
The whispers around Sarilian intensified. His temples throbbed with the beginnings of a headache as he struggled to rein in his growing frustration. "With all due respect, Emissary, it sounds like you are asking us to risk three Celestial lives for every one Infernal while fighting against voidspawn within your own territory."
Malorg raised a brow. "With all due respect to you, Emissary, did you not just espouse your commitment to facing this threat in ‘united harmony'? Or was all that talk about defending the realm little more than empty rhetoric?"
Darius shifted beside Sarilian like he wanted to leap to his feet in protest. Sarilian had to fight down the same impulse. This was absurd! The Dusk Council couldn't honestly expect the Celestials to entertain so ludicrous a notion.
This first point was supposed to be easy—a good segue into more difficult topics like logistics or how to navigate clashing cultures. Yet, Malorg was already proving stubbornly intractable.
Sarilian expelled his breath, pressing his lips together in an approximation of a smile. "The Dawn Council does not make it a habit to lie, Emissary." He left the implied corollary unsaid, though he took a certain satisfaction from the irritation that flashed across Malorg's face. "Nevertheless, we can return to this point later. Can we at least agree that any alliance will require some method of integrating our forces?"
Malorg gave a reluctant nod.
"Then, perhaps it is best to move on and discuss some of our other main concerns."
The next several hours passed in a frustrating blur. Sarilian carefully outlined everything Darius and he had considered, from potential training arrangements to cultural exchanges to the sharing of tactics and supplies. And each time, Malorg met him with nothing but obstruction.
So far as Sarilian could glean, the Dusk Council had no set agenda, or if it did, Malorg had tossed it out the window. It was almost as if his sole goal was to provoke Sarilian as much as possible.
"I think it best we conclude the Accords for today," Sarilian said. His head throbbed from how tightly he'd been clenching his jaw. "Clearly, we both need more time to reassess our current priorities."
"Clearly," Malorg replied. "Hopefully, next time you'll return with a better plan."
Sarilian stared after the departing Infernal as he rose and slipped out the doors. How dare Malorg question their planning when he outright refused to suggest his own alternatives!
Ignoring Darius's shout, Sarilian barreled past the other Infernal delegates and a startled pair of guards out into the hall. A flash of movement to the left guided him, and he rushed forward, rounding a corner and running straight into Malorg.
For an instant, they stood pressed against each other, Sarilian's hand on Malorg's chest. Both of them froze, the only sound in the near darkness their heavy breaths. Then, reason reasserted itself, and Sarilian stepped back, crossing his arms with a glare.
"What the Merciful Light was that in there, Mal? Do you want these Accords to fail?"
Malorg loomed over him, elongated shadows making him seem taller than he really was. "Don't call me that," he growled. "And I was only following my orders from the Dusk Council. It's not my fault that your proposals need work."
"This had nothing to do with the Dusk Council or my proposals!" Sarilian's dawnflame lantern flared brighter as he set his shoulders. "You're angry, and you're taking it out on me."
"Of course, I'm angry!" Malorg leaned in closer, his dark eyes smoldering coals. "You made your choice and broke off all contact for over a year, only to blindside me with this assignment. Pelorak said you asked for me by name. Why in the Dark would you do that after everything that happened? To rub salt into the wound?"
Sarilian's eyes widened. "Of course not! Merciful Light, do you really think so little of me?" When Malorg didn't reply, he muffled a wince and barreled on. "I asked for you because I thought you cared about this as much as I do." And because I wanted to see you . "Whatever else lies between us now, surely that hasn't changed. These Accords may be the single most important thing to happen in the Immortal Realm since the original forging of the Covenant! Don't you want to be a part of that?"
Malorg's uncertain expression wavered before hardening into an icy mask devoid of any emotion. "What I want is no longer your concern. However, I assure you that I have every intention of seeing these Accords through to their completion, as is my duty . Now, unless you have any other official business to discuss, I think it best you return to your delegation. Good day, Emissary."
With that, Malorg strode down the hall until he vanished from view.
Sarilian stared after him, stunned into stillness. A flurry of emotions churned within him, regret chief among them. Malorg might have pushed him away, but Sarilian had been the one to take the offered out and end things between them. To choose duty over what they might have been.
And judging by Malorg's reaction, he was no more over their relationship than Sarilian was. It might have been a year since they last met, but that didn't stop Sarilian from recognizing the hurt and sorrow Malorg kept buried beneath his ire.
"Are you all right?"
Darius' gruff voice caught Sarilian by surprise, and he jumped a little before spinning to face the Aspect with a crisp salute. "Yes, sir." His gaze flicked past Darius, Faeris, and the rest of their delegation back to the empty hallway where Malorg had been. "Just having a quick chat with the Dusk Emissary before he departed."
"I see." Sarilian's skin prickled at the appraising look Darius gave him. After a moment, the Aspect gestured. "At ease, son. There's no need to follow protocol so strictly while we're here. After all, as the Dawn Emissary you outrank me in these proceedings."
Sarilian relaxed his tensed posture while Faeris shifted beside Darius, her brow twitching. Despite Sarilian's best efforts, a year had done little to lessen her animosity toward him. Having to follow his lead here probably irked her to no end. He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "What did you think of our first meeting, Faeris?"
Her narrowed eyes scanned the dark corridor, and she wrinkled her nose. "Perhaps such questions would be better saved for our return to the Dawnlands, Emissary, so that we might speak in comfort…and without the fear of prying ears?"
Sarilian muffled a sigh. "Of course. Come, let us depart."
With him, Darius, and Faeris taking the lead and their honor guard trailing behind, they charted a course through the Dusk Citadel beneath the wary gazes of the Infernal guards. As they walked, Sarilian's mind returned to Malorg.
Perhaps it had been a mistake to involve him in these new Accords. At the very least, he should have tried to warn the Infernal first so that he wouldn't be so caught off guard by Sarilian's presence.
But the damage had already been done. All Sarilian could do now was attempt to put Malorg at ease, continue upon this path he'd set them on, and pray he hadn't made a colossal mistake.