TKC 351
Enris does not offer more insight; instead he becomes a
living statue. His eyes close and he does not move for a long time. He seeks
the talents spilled when the Spire collapsed.
Biting my tongue, because I seek answers, I watch him for a
while. Soon it is evident the process, however it works, cannot be rushed and I
dare not interfere. Thus I wander around, staring at first at the scars in the
earth and then up and out.
Now there is no sight or sound of smoke and fire. There are
no more explosions overhead and no flyers or shuttles traverse the airspace. The
great silence is encompassing.
Briefly I wonder what becomes of the gear and craft the orb
obviously impounds also in its quest to remove all sign of confrontation, and
then do not care for the answer. It cannot matter now; what matters is Iniri.
Iniri; the woman who saved my life and my soul on Makaran. The
woman I lost my heart to on the day she whispered in my ear that absolution can
be mine if I make restitution. Waking me from another terrible nightmare, she
asked what brings on my dark visitations and I told her about the village in
the badlands. A small, poor place where two traitors chose to hide and we found
them there. They did not surrender; instead they started killing the villagers …
My eyes snap open. I do not wish to remember those horrors.
Restitution? Not yet. Absolution? Still elusive. But the
nightmares ceased after I had unburdened myself to Iniri Makar. She deserves life;
perhaps my restitution and absolution lies in saving her as she saved me.
Peripherally I notice that Enris has doubled over, and I swing
back.
Abruptly the man sails through the air as if shoved hard. He
lands on his butt, his eyes huge and frightened. The unseen shoves at him
again, causing his head to bounce upon the trampled earth.
“Iliri!” he gargles.
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