Page 69 of Ever Dark Academy: Volume 6

Not that lying to Eyros was useful really. He could know in an instant what the truth was regardless of what anyone said, but he didn’t rake through Elgar’s mind to know if there was something more to glean. He trusted Elgar implicitly and the future bore out that trust. Yet if Elgar was here for much longer, he would find out about the other Immortals and the future–gods, the future–and he couldn’t do that to Elgar. He should try to save him from that fate. He should send him away. Do something to protect him. But he already knew that Elgar wouldn’t go. Just like he wouldn’t stay in the city when Eyros had asked him to.

“Do I need to command you, Childe? Have you so little respect for me that you will not simply do as I ask of you?” Eyros asked, his voice a tad sharper than he intended. But it was the fear that was talking here. The frustration of knowing he couldn’t undo what was already done. If Seeyr foresaw this, it was happening.

“You could, of course, command me,” Elgar agreed. “And I would have no choice, but to obey you for your mind reigns supreme.”

Eyros rubbed his face with one hand as he let out a bitter gust of laughter. “My mind reigns supreme, does it? That’s why we’re here hiding? Because I am so great–so grand–that I’ve managed to survive and keep you all alive so far? Yes, I am so wonderful.”

He sounded so sour, bitter, and yes, defeated. Elgar shifted to face him, but Eyros could not look upon him. He stared down at the grass. Elgar reached over and touched his chin. Eyros allowed him to lift his head so that they were face to face. Immediately, he superimposed the wasted creature that Elgar would become over the strong-shouldered, powerful Vampire he was now. How could he allow that to happen?

“Master, you have done everything you could. Anything anyone could. We still stand while most others have fallen,” Elgar pointed out.

“Yes, but it won’t last!” Eyros’ voice was thick with anguish and perhaps a touch of self-pity.

He ripped himself away from Elgar and began to pace. His hands, too, moved. He swung them wildly. Up into the air. Down towards the earth. He stopped, snarling. It was not fair! It was not right! Nothing was as it should be! But in the future–in that glorious future–it would be fair and right and… his Elgar would be a mess. Why did Elgar have to pay for his weakness and for the Immortals’ mistakes?

“What is it, Master? What can I do to help you?” Elgar pleaded.

“What could you do? What should you do? You should get away from me! That’s what you should do, Elgar! You’d be infinitely better off away from me!” Eyros shouted.

Elgar blinked slowly. His mind did not reach towards Eyros’. That would have been the ultimate violation for a Childe to do to a Master, to his Immortal. But Elgar did not seem to take the words at their face value either.

“That is something I could never do, Master,” Elgar answered as the wind blew and stirred his black hair.

“Even if I commanded you? Because I could do it! I should do it!” Eyros’ voice was high, nearly a screech of pain.

“Not even if you commanded it,” Elgar contradicted everything he’d ever said.

“If I were stronger I would do it. I would command you to forget me and walk away from all of this.” Eyros’ shoulders slumped. “You would have no choice. But I’m too weak to send you away. Gods, Elgar, I do not deserve you. I do not deserve to be remembered. You don’t understand.”

“Help me understand then, Master.”

Elgar wrapped his arms around Eyros and pulled him into his chest. It was something a Master should do for a fledgling, but Elgar did it for him. Eyros was shocked at the sob that actually escaped him. A sob!

He was alone.

He was alone.

He was alone.

His brothers and sisters were dead by his hand or each other’s.

They were gone.

They were gone.

They were gone.

And he’d had a part in it! It was so easy to pretend to be jaded and bored by it all, but then to have reality shoved into his face by finding the others in Lasting…

“It is all right, Master. It will be all right,” Elgar soothed him, one of his hands gently running up and down his back.

Eyros allowed himself one final squeeze of his fledgling before he pulled himself a few feet away. He wiped tears–tears!--from his face and gave Elgar a smile that probably looked more like a slash across his face.

“We’ve made so many mistakes, Elgar. I have made so many mistakes,” he corrected. “We’ve destroyed the existence that King Daemon left us. That peaceful, wonderful world. We spit on it, kicked it, set it on fire and all of you have paid for our selfishness and folly. And what’s coming next is not going to be much better. Not until… until there is so much more suffering.”

“What do you mean, Master?” Elgar asked.

Eyros was torn. If he told Elgar what would happen then Elgar would suffer with the knowledge of what was ahead. Or his Childe could perhaps escape that fate… but no, Seeyr’s visions never worked like that! The harder one tried to escape the future the more assured it seemed to be. But there was no time left. The others were at the gate. Fiona cut her hand and was smearing the symbol in blood on the gate. There were angry Kaly voices in the background. He had to let them in or they would be overcome.