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“He remains within?”
Indumathi addresses the tracker firmly, not slowing in her steps. Ahewann keeps time beside her, his face drawn tight with anticipation. The woman nods, jogging slightly to keep up with the older auri. “Yes, lady Indumathi. The esteemed Warrior has not left the rooms since he was escorted there. Our detail has closely monitored all entrances, and observed no movement.”
Indumathi slants a furrowed brow at her brother. Ahewann returns it. This only removes one possibility of escape. Her son, his nephew, is apparently the Warrior of Light, now. What is he even fully capable of? She recalls the last time she saw Issei. He was still her height then, seventeen and barely grown into his body. His horns were just sharpening. And now, a quarter of a century later… Indumathi almost retches.
She has no idea what to expect. So many years that could have been with her son, lost. Indumathi is sixty-two years old now. Will she still have twenty-five years to share with Issei? Would he even want to share them? Could he, when his duties have him walk first into the eye of the storm? She thinks of Nobutoshi’s ashes, kept safe under lock and key in a forgotten estate, out of Indumathi’s hands. Should Issei fall, who will keep him? Will the world lock even his ashes away from her?
A hand on her shoulder brings her back to reality. Ahewann looks into her eyes. What he sees there, he shares. He shakes his head, urges her forward by the shoulder. “We can only– we must speak with him.” Indumathi nods stiffly, and resumes walking, woodenly. They must first… meet him.
They arrive at the door to Indumathi’s private chambers, the tracker bowing and subtly making her exit. Indumathi looks at the doors, then to Ahewann. He smiles helplessly, placing a hand on one of the door handles. Indumathi steels herself, reaching for the other. Whatever comes, they will face together. They push the doors open in concert.
The last fingers of dusk stretch across the room, the warmth of the afternoon giving way to the coming chill of night. No chair or cushion bears an occupant, the sitting areas otherwise empty. The windows and doorways stand empty, their frames undisturbed. The cold in Indumathi’s stomach has the bite of steel. Has he gone, some other impossible way? Her eyes rove across the rooms, itching to settle on a sign of anything, anything at all.
There. The jug Indumathi left out is untouched, but the note that it pinned down is gone. Her heart leaps into her throat. Behind a screen, movement. Could it be?
An auri man stands, slowly making his way to them. He is only a bit shorter than most auri men, built leanly. His hair falls over his face, unbound, curling and pale over skin violet as a dawn sky. Like Indumathi’s. As he comes to a stop before them his tail curls in on itself, fidgeting. Long and thin, like Nobutoshi’s. His face twists in heavy emotion, brows furrowed and lips pressed thin. That much, Indumathi recognizes. She used to do the same, when she had something difficult to say. His voice is quiet as he speaks.
“Forgive me, mother. Forgive me, uncle. It’s… it’s been many years.”
Ahewann gasps, tears budding in his eyes. Indumathi rushes forward, seizing her son in her arms. She has to pull him down to embrace him, but he goes easily, falling to his knees to wrap his arms around her. Ahewann joins them quickly, folding mother and son into his embrace. His voice shakes with his tears.
“Twenty-five! Issei, my boy…”
Indumathi feels Issei burrow deeper into her shoulder, warmth blooming on her tunic. His fingers curl around her and her brother. She presses him tighter, tighter still to her chest. If only she could open it and keep him there, safe from all the world, and always with her. Issei’s voice hitches, muffled by Indumathi’s embrace.
“I’m – I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I let him die.”
She hushes him, gently. This must still be a sting for Issei. But for Indumathi, this is an old and worn-over pain, rubbed smooth from years of turning. Until all detail and complication are gone, reduced to simple fault. Indumathi let her son and his father go, and then they were gone. She is old friends with the hollow in her chest. She can teach Issei to do the same.
“I thought I could never – I let him die, and I hurt another. I’m sorry.”
She holds her tongue. She does not speak of how many more Issei has let die, has hurt. How many more he will have to let die, and will hurt. He is the Warrior of Light now, and where he turns, empires will fall. The same is true for her and Ahewann both. Thavnair’s path to peace is hard-fought, and bloody to keep. It is no reason to play-act at being dead to his family for twenty-five years. It is a foolish thing to think, but it would be cruel for her to deny him, and she cannot stand to be cruel, now. Issei has been cruel enough for them all. She crushes him closer to her chest.
Ahewann lets out a sob, pressing a kiss to the top of Issei’s head. Indumathi digs her fingers into them both like claws. Issei shakes, his tears soaking into Indumathi’s shoulder. Before her throat can close, Indumathi tells him the truth he should have always known.
“You are my son, always. I love you, always. There is nothing I cannot forgive you, if you let me do so.”