seul’s Reviews > Blood Over Bright Haven > Status Update

Time was precious, but Thomil took a moment of it to look back at the barrier. Wrapped in the icy arms of his homeland, he imagined that his sister, his parents, and all the Caldonnae watched from that light that had taken their lives. The twinkle of magic became the spring gleam in Sciona's eyes.

To hope. Sciona lifted her glass, and Thomil raised a fist in return.

To hope, Highmage Freynan.

Maybe, like so many of the people he had loved, Thomil wouldn't live to see the dawn. Maybe Carra wouldn't. Maybe it would be a hundred generations before the sun rose on a life of dignity for their descendants, but the worthwhile run was not the sprint.

But the "we" was more than the Caldonnae, more than any coalition of tribes. It was Arras pushing Maeva a little farther than he had gone, Maeva pushing Thomil a little farther than she had gone, Thomil pushing Carra a little farther than he expected to go even Sciona Freynan giving her life to push them both a little farther still.

Sciona had posited that all emotions—fear, anger, sadness—were just energy, equal in their potential power, but Thomil found himself disagreeing as more and more Kwen fell into step around him. There was greater power in him now than there had been during his first crossing, when he had run in fear.

It meant that everyone in Leon's Hall was dead.

Realizing what the absence of gunfire meant, Carra turned to look at Thomil in pain and concern. If there had been any sliver of doubt, it was certain now. Sciona was gone. Thomil met Carra's raw silver eyes and repeated the chorus around him:

"Don't look back."

"I watched a woman run herself to death on the belief that there was some good in the High Magistry. She did her best to leave some hope in the world—for your people and mine. I never... Even at the end, I never shared her optimism, but in her honor, this once, I'm going to try."

Sciona was proof that hope didn't have to mean living to the end of the story; for Kwen like Thomil, how could it? Carra's life was worth fighting for, whether fighting meant dying here or stubbornly living on. Maeva had understood that: that it was worth dying at the border of salvation if you could push your love before you over the finish line.

Even as he said the words, they felt weak. Because Sciona had been something new. She had brought summer to a part of Thomil that should have frozen to death on the lake with his tribe. And now she was gone too.

Thomil had to be honest in memory of Sciona if nothing else. "I did. But we're Kwen in the age of Blight." He shrugged. "Our fate is to love, and lose, and lose, and lose... He drew a deep breath in the vain hope that it would quell the grief. "But we keep going. This is nothing new for us, Carra. We keep going."

Two of his tears dropped into Carra's hair, and she blinked sodden eyelashes up at him. "You're crying too. A lot."

"Yeah." Thomil pressed a palm to one of his eyes, oddly unable to stem the flow of tears. "I am."

Carra sniffed. "Did you love her?"