Page 106 of Taloned Heart

“Death,” she whispered. “For all those who stood against me.”

And Lore stood there, unmoving, as she watched the world burn.

CHAPTER41

Lore stood on the broken, bloodied remains of the battlefield and stared at the tangled mess around her. Yet again. Another mess that she’d caused and more blood and pain than she’d ever thought possible.

This was wrong. She shouldn’t have done this and yet, how could she have done anything else?

They needed saving. She needed this kingdom to be on its own feet, so she could leave it and not be eaten alive by the guilt.

She lifted a hand and waved it in the air. The remaining metal soldiers she’d summoned fell to pieces where they stood. The dwarves would pick their mess up at some point. She’d send someone to help them bring all the parts back to their forges, where fire and embers would melt them into liquid.

What would become of them? Would they be turned into necklaces that eventually noble women would wear around their necks? Never aware for even a moment of what that meant? Of what that metal had once done?

Running a hand over the back of her neck, she wondered if her fear was really how people would remember her. Would they remember a goddess who saved them in the middle of a battlefield? Or would they forget she ever existed?

“This was well done.” Lindon’s voice interrupted her thoughts, and his sylph fluttered in front of her face before landing on the back of a dead elf. “You made the right choice.”

“I used the power you warned me about.”

“You used it to help others.”

“I used it and became the monster I feared I would become.” She’d felt that power running through her veins and whispering in her ear. It had wanted more than what she’d done. It had wanted to tear the entire castle down. “I’m afraid I will never be able to stop listening to it now.”

Lindon clapped his hand on her shoulder, then gave her a little shake. “You have to stop thinking of it as something that lives inside you, Lorelei of Silverfell. You are the magic and the magic is you. You are the one who wanted destruction. You are the one who wanted to tear this entire world apart and set it ablaze. Only then will you reach the peace that you seek.”

And he was right.

She knew he was right and that he’d been right this entire time. It wasn’t the magic that whispered with dark intent in her mind. It was her. She had been the one desiring and wanting and needing to feel blood on her hands and a sky darkened by clouds.

Broken, afraid, she looked to Lindon and tried not to let the tears fall. “What do I do with it now?”

“You choose.” He bent down and picked up his lovely bird, letting it settle on his shoulder before he turned his attention back to the forest. “You choose how you want to be remembered. Me? I will always be remembered as a tyrant and a villain. But you don’t have to walk that path, if you do not wish it.”

Taking a deep breath, Lore felt that desire shudder through her. She wanted to be remembered as a good woman who had helped this kingdom back on its feet and then let it stand on its own. That was what she truly wanted, no matter the temptation of a dark queen seated upon a cursed throne.

So she turned away from Lindon and started back into the castle.

The few humans and magical creatures who were still well enough to stand on their own seemed to stare off into the distance as she passed. Their gazes saw something she couldn’t, perhaps, or their minds only remembered the terror of battle.

Lore first stopped next to Beauty. The little human was still alive, somehow, and she made a gurgling sound around the blood that filled her mouth.

“Shh,” Lore soothed as she started placing Beauty’s guts back into her body. “I’m here now.”

A flutter of magic stirred in her chest and then poured down her hands. She smoothed them down Beauty’s stomach, gentle, oh so gentle, as pristine, soft flesh was revealed in the pass of her palms. Lore knew nothing about human bodies, but her magic did. It healed, it mended, it stitched, and Beauty was bruised and bloodied and battered when she was done, but the little human could stand.

Beauty’s eyes were wide with shock, and she pressed her hands against her belly through the tattered remains of her shirt. “How... How is this...”

Possible? Lore had no idea. She wasn’t about to look at the magic inside her and beg for an explanation, though. Instead, she hooked her hand behind Beauty’s neck and drew her in close.

Breathing in, together they stood in the middle of the battlefield as Lore let out a pulse of healing magic that spilled out of her and onto the soldiers who weren’t hurt quite as badly as who stood around them.

She could feel their wounds healing. The skin that knit together and blood that rushed back into their bodies. She could feel them all, even the ones who had died. The souls she hadn’t locked inside their bodies to save.

Lore released Beauty’s neck and strode toward a small gathering of humans around Zephyr’s body. He should be dead. His heart had stopped beating a long time ago, but his eyes still roved toward her. His chest didn’t move. He didn’t breathe. But she knew he saw her.

“Absolutely not,” the Baron hissed. He stood and jabbed a finger toward her. “You will back away, witch. You will not touch him.”

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