Basila tried to retrace her steps. She had to get the three daggers. Icarus was counting on her.
She let out a sob.
Her aunt was dead. The only person from her entire family who had bothered to keep in touch. The only person who had given her a kind word.
Basila hadn't needed the woman's protection for a while now. She had been there during the last stand of the Pearl of the World.
The territory had been conquered fifty years ago. That had been the truth. And Basila, who was fifty-five in truth, but with a strong Blood Elf magic, had seen it all.
Her aunt was just a bit older than her. Just old enough to make the mistake which had given her new husband credence.
Enough of a claim to conquer the rest of what was left.
Basila looked at her hands.
They should be the hands of a woman who had been through it all. Hands which were beginning to get their first wrinkles.
But they weren't.
Because Basila knew that as soon as someone figured out that she wasn't fifteen, she would get a slave rune.
She had no idea who the new Sultan was. Nor did she care that the man now held her fate in his hands, should he find her.
But that didn't mean that she wanted for this to end. This sweet love she shared with Icarus. Something she was old enough to realize.
She had the body of a girl.
Icarus had the mind of a man.
And her aunt… her aunt had told her that horselords make for poor husbands.
What if Irina had it right? What if Icarus was no different from his distant cousin?
Basila let out another sob.
But what was she supposed to even do? Run away? To where? For how long would she be able to hide?
Oak's Rest had been a good hiding spot for her. Calm, quiet, with an execution only when the Emperor Constantine himself forced Lord Oswel's hand.
Basila knew that she wouldn't find a better place to go to. Not here, in the Empire of Plenty. An empire which was doing its best not to be conquered by the horselords.
Who had the Pearl of the World but wanted the entire world instead.
Basila kicked at the ground, only to hear something metallic rolling around.
She saw it: One of the daggers made from Order!
The Blood Elf ran to it. Scooping it up like the priceless treasure it was. She cradled it. Imagined it was her tragic aunt she was hugging.
One of her tears fell on the metal.
"Don't cry," the man's voice was old and weary.
Basila thought for a second that it was the Emperor Basil. That he was going to right all the wrongs done to the Blood Elves, Order in his hands.
But as she turned around, she only saw Master Tang.
"Oh, it's you," the girl winced at her own wording soon after. Oh, it's you was not something one said to someone who had saved their life.
"Yes, sorry, I am no Blood Elf emperor," Master Tang nodded at the two pieces of Order. One on the far edge of the meadow. Near the flowers where Basila had hugged her aunt for the last time.
And the other one in her hands.
"What are you going to do with them?" It was a strange question. Basila knew the right answer.
It was on the tip of her tongue. But she couldn't bring herself to say it.
"You know what Icarus wants," Hua Tang said, as he made a step towards the woman who was hiding under the face of a girl. "You know it's the least bloody path. The only path which will do anyone any good."
Basila did. Still, her grip on Order did not loosen.
"But what do you want to do with it? It's not shining, is it?" Master Tang took the final step to stand before Basila.
He was towering over her.
Blood Elves were not a tall people. Basila knew that had Icarus' father not been a horselord, Icarus would have been considered adorable in these parts.
She snarled, making to run.
She could use Order herself! Irina, Sadiha Sultan, had still teleported back to her husband! To fight him! Like a true Angelic woman!
Like a Warrior Princess of Old!
Basila could be that as well. She could…
It took her until she reached the place where her aunt had left her life forever to realize that Master Tang had not followed.
She looked at the dagger in her hand.
"It's not shining," a tear fell on the blade.
The dagger still refused to shine.
"Why?" She asked. "Why can't I be enough? Why does it have to be a male heir? Why can't I be Empress? Like Irina! The one you loved the most! The one who carried your legacy after your death!"
A warm wind ruffled her hair, stealing the tear which had been doomed to fall on Order.
"I see," she did not, even if she was ready to lie to bring Order back into her life. "You want a male heir. A liberator."
Basila looked at the direction she had come from.
Master Tang was there. In the shade of the trees. Waiting for her with two daggers in his hand.
"Basila," he called out to her. "You know what is right."
She did. But she wanted to take her life in her hands. She wanted for Order to shine for her!
To reforge for her.
"You know what your destiny is," Master Tang continued, as he took a couple of steps towards her so, as if he was afraid that she was going to run again.
"What? To be the mother of Icarus' children?" Basila spat the words like they were waste. No different from what swam in the sewers where they hid.
"No," Master Tang whispered, close enough for her to hear. "As Icarus' Empress. The one who makes sure he does nothing stupid. The power behind the throne."
The old Guild Master knew what others wanted to hear. He knew what Basila was capable of.
Has seen the spells she had stolen from the dungeon core.
One of them was Meteor.
Master Tang was ready to kill her if it came down to it. But first, he wanted to fight for her soul.
For Icarus; for himself.
For the lady who was looking at him with big, puffy eyes.
And even, he thought with a smile as she took the daggers, for Sadiha Sultan.
The one to whom he owed his life.