The Drowning Faith

She’s the only divine thing he’s ever believed in. The only creature in this vast, cruel land who could kill him. And sometimes, in his loveliest dreams, he imagines she does.

She terrifies him, and he loves her so much it hurts.

What goes unsaid: that only one remains.

What also goes unsaid: the wrong one.

Vaisra doesn’t hesitate. “It should have bee you.”

“Better,” says Vaisra. “Moag found the Speerly.”

She’s the only divine thing he’s ever believed in. The only creature in this vast, cruel land who could kill him. And sometimes, in his loveliest dreams, he imagines she does.

It takes the dirigible sixteen hours to traverse the country, but just six to get from Arlong to Tikany. In six hours he’ll be face to face from Rin. In six hours they’ll see, at last, which of them has the will to finish things off.

They’ve been going back and forth, he and Rin, for what feels like a lifetime. But it’s got to come to an end. All the rest–all the scheming, the minor skirmishes, all the political infighting–means nothing. The future of the Republic hinges on one outcome only: her death.

Her fist against his face. That lovely, familiar pain.

He wants to feel like he has a choice. That if he does this, at least this is his doing . But he knows that’s not true. They are, both of them, bound by forces far behind their making: vicious paths that put them in this spot, across each other, never on the same side.