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The Grand Marshal slammed her hands on the table, the sound of it reverberating across the room like thunder. "How dare they use it on us?" she demanded of no one. The Generals sat with cloudy faces on their chairs. Occasionally, their eyes would wander to an empty seat on their side of the table.
General Craleth.
Although Cyrdel didn't know the man that well, he could tell that the General meant so much to his peers and to the Grand Marshal. It's a tragic loss but there's nothing they could do at this point. One simply cannot revive the dead.
"What is the status of our men?" the Grand Marshal turned sharply at the remaining Generals.
A man Cyrdel had come to know as General Tasar cleared his throat. "All one thousand and five wounded soldiers at the healing hall have passed. The western flank led by General Kilgan had half of their men as casualties."
General Tasar continued rattling off the count. The temperature dropped notches lower until it came to a point where Cyrdel couldn't feel his hands anymore. "There are a new batch of wounded soldiers numbering at least a hundred," General Tasar was saying. "Dalan, our expert healer, passed on as well. Nyxis Helgase, the human who was knowledgeable about the art of healing, was retrieved from the battlefield unconscious and unresponsive to all kinds of waking spells."
Cyrdel's stomach sank. He witnessed how Nyxis was brought from the upper floors, paler than light and barely breathing. Reportedly, he had stolen the Human throne from the sacred hall and used its powers to neutralize the battle.
Cyrdel was on the two-hundredth floor at that time but he felt the throne's hold on his magic. Nobody could access their synnavaimis for the whole hour after the battle and its effects gradually wore off until now. Cyrdel's gut turned. Such power...it's a miracle Nyxis was still alive.
The Grand Marshal clenched her jaw so hard Cyrdel became afraid her jawbones would pop out of her cheek. "Is there really no other way?" she hissed.
"There is, Grand Marshal," Ravalee said, shooting up from her seat to match the Grand Marshal's stance. Cyrdel craned his neck in an attempt to catch Ravalee's eye. She wouldn't look at him.
What was she doing? They couldn't know of Ravalee's plan or else they would go along with it. They couldn't—
"What is it, Ravalee?" the Grand Marshal sounded worn.
"The Virtakios," Ravalee's expression was grim. The Generals gasped as one. "I know a way to bring her back."
The Grand Marshal narrowed her eyes. " 'Bring her back'? What do you mean?"
"It's true that she's with us until now but she's in no way to help us," Ravalee folded her hands atop each other on the table. "Her soul is currently trapped in the Soulcleanser. I know of a way to bring her back."
"Which is?"
"My soul," Ravalee put a hand to her chest. If not for the stupid court room rules, Cyrdel would have shit up and negated everything she said. "The Soulcleanser requires the soul on whose form the soul in the chalice will reside. I will gladly offer mine for this procedure."
The Generals glanced at each other. Cyrdel clenched his fists. They needed hope and this...this was the best hope any of them could give.
After a whole minute of silence, the Grand Marshal rested her forehead against her twined fingers. "What do you need?" she asked.
Ravalee turned to Airese and Eldan who sat side-by-side. "How did you do it?"
Airese stared at her daughter with wide eyes. It looked like she wasn't used to her daughter like this. Eldan just stared at his hands. He wasn't looking at his wife or his daughter. Airene had her eyes squeezed shut as if she couldn't believe that this was happening. Well, Cyrdel couldn't believe it either. How wrong did things go that they had been reduced to resorting to this? Ravalee promised that this wouldn't go here. She assured him so many times that he wasn't going to lose her. So why...
Why does she need to do this?
Duty, Ravalee's voice speared through his thoughts. Apparently, she could hear him even through it all. Was he thinking loudly again?
Yes, you are, came Ravalee's reply. And I answer you. My duty calls me to do this.
I can't accept this, Cyrdel shook his head, blinking to avoid his tears from flowing out. Ravalee kept looking at the Grand Marshal while Airese explained the procedure. She didn't smile outwardly but the tone of her voice in his head did. No one can really accept death when it comes, she said. You have to let me go. I won't fight my destiny and neither should you.
Why? Cyrdel asked.
Ravalee looked at him then, sadness bright in her eyes. Indeed. I would like to know the answer to that as well.
The Grand Marshal pressed her thumb and forefinger against her closed eyes. "We will try to hold out one more day," she said. "When all else fails, I request you to do that."
"Anahel and Zeral will arrive tomorrow," Airese nodded and chewed on her lip. "Ezril too."
Cyrdel didn't understand the rest of the meeting. How could he when his thoughts were roiling around his head, reminding him that his time with Ravalee was limited? He couldn't fight it. He couldn't do anything about Ravalee's decision. She was still going to do it. She was still going to fulfill her duty first.
Where did that leave him?
The Grand Marshal, after a few more minutes of planning and talking, clasped her hands together. "Meeting adjourned," she nodded at the people present. "Tomorrow, we will defend the hundred and fiftieth floor. We've lost so much today. Let's honor our brethren by saving our City."
"Avraja," the Generals replied.
The Grand Marshal looked at Cyrdel. It seemed like she was sending him solidarity—something he thought he didn't need until now. "Avraja."
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