I am not lost. Though at times I may have been without direction, for half my life my steps have been entirely my own. Whatever leaps or stumbles I may have made, I made them by my own choices. I was where I was. I am where I am. And I’m going where I’m going.
“Aaye Aurient, Atara en Elenrim, Seimaya.”
Hail Aurient, Star-Mother, Merciful.
“Fallana i'corm rusve.”
Heal the heart that was broken.
“Tanka i'harwen aha sakkat.”
Mend the wounds that rage tore.
“Lava lye poldor au'dune,”
Grant us strength to stand again,
“Ar'lye coiuva ero ner.”
And we will live once more.
Curled up in the hot and humid miasma of the dragon's crop, with the arms of one half of myself wrapped around the other half of myself, I prayed like I never had before. Hundreds of times I had called upon the Stars, only to be the recipient of their famed silence. But in the Lindequalmë, for reasons only they knew, they had answered me twice.
If the silver in my reflection meant what I thought it did, hoping for one more chance wasn't entirely a fool's hope.
Give me a chance to right my wrongs, or let me drown in my betrayal.
For a long moment, nothing happened. My two halves clung to each other in a mockery of their whole – enemies, rivals, sisters, symbionts. Each had reason to hate the other, oh yes. But each also needed the other.
Let me be all, or let me be nothing.
Silence. There was no answer. I was weak. Podë's survival was my fault, and mine alone. I had doubted. I had succumbed to my anger, to my greed. I was condemned. I was dead.
Just as I accepted that, light erupted from everywhere, burning everything away in its glory. A powerful chorus surrounded me, carried me, wound around me. When its crescendo faded and the light dimmed, I stood once more in Podë's grove, surrounded by charred clumps of dragon flesh, whole in a way I'd never appreciated before. My right hand, held aloft, clutched a sword that glowed with the light of a million stars.
In the Witch's presence, a few trees had their mirrors and ornaments untouched, but the even she could not deny the damage the dragon had done. The rent earth, the splintered forest, despite her vanity, those all remained. She stood opposite me, face stuck in an expression that couldn't decide between shock and fury.
"How?” she sputtered. “You were sure to kill yourself, or succumb to Carak. There is no way you can be.”
“Still I stand among the living, unbound, unbroken, and unforgiving,” I shot back, lowering my sword to challenge the Red Witch. I had a second chance, granted by no less than Aurient herself. I had a new perspective, gained by the opportunity to examine the rage from both halves of my blood. And I had a new understanding of the situation I was in.
I don't know if Podë accurately reflected the others she'd shown me, or even if they existed. But she had reflected me. I was full of shit, so she was full of lies.
I only give people one chance to lie to me. Podë had used hers.
“You exist to take what is beautiful, whether it is something as grand as the Belegwain i Beleg or something as small as the love one stray had for another. I don't know why the High Bard Council chose to end you now. I don't really care. I came because I hate assholes, and oh... you are an asshole.”
Podë's eyes narrowed and her hands lowered, fingers clawing for the ground. I just grinned, tilting my head to indicate the voices that still resounded through the clearing.
“Can you hear them singing, Witch?”