"I'm sorry," I whisper, rocking back and forth on my knees. "I'm so sorry, Erisen."
My cries echo in the empty temple, a mother's grief bouncing off ancient walls that have seen countless sorrows over centuries. The sound is primal, wounded—a noise I didn't know I could make until this moment. Six years of careful planning, of teaching him to hide, of protecting him with everything I have. All for nothing.
I've faced horrors. I've endured Vorrak's cruelty. I've given birth alone, fled with a newborn, built a life from nothing. But this—the emptiness where my son should be—this, I cannot bear.
A sudden sound wrenches me from my grief—the scuff of a boot against stone. I whirl around, knife already in my hand, the wooden bird clutched to my chest like a talisman. The candle flickers wildly with my movement, sending shadows dancing across the walls.
And then Domno is there, ducking through the low archway, his massive frame filling the space where moments before there was only emptiness. His golden eyes scan the room, sharp and alert until they land on me—crumpled on the floor, bloody-knuckled and tear-streaked. Something shifts in his expression, a crack in that carefully constructed mask he always wears.
"Esalyn—" he starts, taking a step toward me.
"You!" The word tears from my throat, sharp as a blade. "Where is he? Where's my son?"
Confusion flashes across his face, followed swiftly by understanding, then something darker. His shoulders tense as he looks at the empty blankets.
"Where is Erisen?" His voice drops to a dangerous register I've never heard before.
I launch myself at him, a wild, feral thing, my knife cutting the air between us. "Don't you dare say his name! This is your fault! You brought them to us!"
He catches my wrist before the blade can find its target, but makes no move to disarm me. There's no effort in his grip, just enough pressure to keep the steel from his throat.
"Esalyn, I swear I didn't?—"
"You were hunting us!" I'm screaming now, the pain in my voice echoing off ancient stones. "You were going to deliver us to Vorrak! And now—now my son is gone!"
Something inside me shatters completely. I asked for space, but I could already feel my walls weakening once he left. How foolish I was.
My free hand pounds against his chest, each blow punctuating my words. "I trusted you! I let you near him! He loved you!"
Domno doesn't flinch, doesn't defend himself. He takes each blow like he deserves it, his face stripped of everything but raw anguish.
"You made me believe—" My voice breaks, emotions flooding through the cracks. "You made me think we were finally safe. That someone in this gods-forsaken world would protect us instead of hunting us."
My legs give out beneath me, and I sink to my knees, the knife clattering uselessly to the ground. The fight drains from me as quickly as it came, leaving only hollowness.
"He called you his friend," I whisper, the words like ash in my mouth. "He waited for you every day by that window."
Domno kneels before me, his movements careful, deliberate. In the candlelight, I can see every scar that marks his gray skin, every line etched by battles I know nothing about.
"Esalyn, focus." His eyes are sharp, his body tense. "Where is Erisen? What do you mean he's gone?"
My panic starts to ebb and I realize that he doesn't have a clue what I'm talking about. "I came in here after you left, and he was gone." I narrow my eyes in suspicion. "And now you're back."
"Because I heard you screaming." His eyes sweep over the room again, anger blooming across his face. "You were screaming because Erisen is gone."
"Yes," I hiss. "He's gone." I shake my head, trying to push to my feet. The panic and fear overwhelmed me, wasted precious minutes I needed. How stupid of me. How could I have wasted any of that time? "I have to go find him."
"Let me."
I freeze, stopping in my climb to my feet. "What?"
"I am one of the best hunters on this continent. I will find him."
I know that I wouldn't stand a chance at tracking a demon, but with everything that has happened, I am reluctant to let Domno do this. "How can I trust you?"
His eyes never leave mine, unflinching as steel meets skin. "I swear to you, Esalyn—by whatever gods you believe in, by my brother's memory—I will bring Erisen back to you, or I won't return at all."
The conviction in his voice reaches something deep inside me, past the rage and grief. This isn't the smooth talk of a hunter or the calculated words of a liar. This is a vow carved from the same raw place that my own desperation comes from.
