Work Text:
No
Misraaks watches Eido scramble up the crates, as if they are a staircase with which she can reach the Great Machine. The sky shimmers and trembles as the silent white sphere lifts away from them all: away from his House, his people, his daughter.
Please, no
A breeze spins around his feet, and he wonders if it is the harbinger of a greater storm.
He did not live through The Whirlwind, but he lived through what it left behind. Eramis with nothing but her hate and pain. His mother a leader who would stick a blade in the side of her own child if he dared to question her. So many of their people torn and scattered with no hope for peace and barely any for survival. Scavengers. Pirates. Fallen.
What could a second one do to Eido?
Riis had been prosperous, settled and thriving when the Darkness tore through the Eliksni. The House of Light is not. They have food and shelter, but they lack quality ether. Their home is not yet a home, and there are still those in the City who look at them askance when they leave it. Such a foundation offers his people so little. They don’t even have the ships on which to flee.
He doesn’t know how much the shaking of his hands is from the ground or himself, when his comm unit crackles to life.
“It’s happening again. The Whirlwind.”
“Eramis?” Misraaks is surprised to hear her reach out to him of all people, even more surprised by the tone of her voice. She sounds pleased in a way he has not heard before, a mix of triumph and conciliation that concerns him more than her rage ever has.
“Don’t worry. The Great Machine will never abandon anyone again.”
His trepidation rings true, and her words make his ether catch in his throat.
“Eramis…please do not do this.”
He doesn’t know how to appeal to her, how to beg her to spare the Light even as it draws further from view. The Eliksni survived its leaving once; he has to believe they can do it again. They are not alone this time. They have the Saint and the Phoenix. Young wolves, Awoken and Cabal. Even if they can no longer see it, even if it goes across the universe, the Light will stay in those bonds if only Eramis will stay her hands.
“If you care at all for our people, if there is anything left in your heart—”
“For Riis.”
The glare of the targeting Warsats breaks through the clouds, and his own heart stops along with his words. He knows that Eramis is no longer listening, anyway. The brightness of the weapons is such that it reduces Eido to a silhouette in front of him, and he wonders if she heard his pleas and feels his fear. He wants to reach for her, climb the crates she stands on and pull her against him so she doesn’t see the Great Machine burn. But he cannot make his feet move.
He hopes that Eido will forgive him for it. She may even prefer it this way, since she didn’t want to be treated as a child anymore. And it was proper a Scribe should witness such an event. Regardless of if her father wished she didn’t need to.
But then the sky goes dull without the accompanying thunder of a world ending, and behind his helm Misraaks blinks his burning eyes.
Like another moon, the Great Machine still looks down upon the Earth. Neither destroyed nor departed. Eido points to it with not just one but two of her hands as she turns to Misraaks with wonder and joy, standing atop the crates like some sort of herald of a miracle. The image will remain in his memory forever, he thinks, as his fear is slowly replaced with relief that today is not the day he has to watch his daughter’s heart break.
He can no longer hear Eramis’ voice, but he can imagine her rage. She and the Witness will be upon them soon, and humanity will need all of its allies. There will be no rest for anyone in the Last City when they arrive.
The dust settles at his feet, the air still around him. Soon he will contact Saint and Osiris, make sure that they are well and unharmed by their near loss. He will see what they need of him and the Eliksni, what the Vanguard will ask of them all. Soon there will be bustle and noise and voices raised in fear and uncertainty.
But for now there is only stunned silence. Eido has turned back to face the Great Machine, bold and safe, and Misraaks can finally breathe.