Daughter of No Worlds

her shoulders that had once been blue. Now it was so spattered with red that it edged on purple, the stains crawling over the crescent moon insignia on her lapel. The sight sent his heart lurching to his throat. How much of that is yours? How much of that is yours? The woman grabbed him by the shoulders and turned him around. That bad? Very bad. Wonderful, he grumbled. He'd hoped the wound wouldn't be as deep as it felt. She turned him around, hands still gripping his arms, her face inches from his. You're bleeding a lot. You don't feel that? Not anymore, he shook his head. The movement tilted the floor, as if the world was a ship preparing to capsize. He imagined the sun on the back of his jacket cleaved in two by whatever blade sliced his back, the halves sliding with him, separating in the sky. Hey. Her fingers were at his face, snapping in front of his eyes. She looked angry, but he knew her well enough to know that it only masked her fear. Just as she had been when they had ventured into the forest for the first time as children, when they had wandered around lost for hours until... Wake up. This time she shook him too. Stay with me. He felt something encroach at the edge of his thoughts, a brush of her presence, her magic reaching into his mind. Don't do that, he growled. The voice chuckled something disgusting, far away. I'm just checking on you. Her presence retreated as the line between the young woman's eyebrows deepened. I went to the west end of the city. So many dead. So many dead. The young man blinked away the image of the little faces peering from shuttered windows. We have to retreat, he said. There are too many townspeople here for this. I can take the fire as we go. Their leadership is here. Retreating isn't an option. Too good of an opportunity. He almost laughed, bitter and ugly and humorless. Opportunity? No, this is... They chose to start this here, in one of their cities, she spat. If they want to shit in their own beds, they can lie in it. The words hit him like a strike to his gut. He wasn't sure if it was her callousness or the blood loss that made his stomach clench with nausea. These are still civilians, he shot back, rebellion or no. These are people. We have options. Not with what I've seen. We have you, she whispered. One hand travelled to his face, hovering over the muscles that clenched his jaw. We have you. A shiver shuddered through his deepest recesses. He stood there, lips parted but unable to conjure words strong enough to match his revulsion. The best he managed was... Hell no. Her mouth thinned. If he had been paying attention, he might have noticed her caress migrating to his temple, pushing aside strands of black hair. We don't have a choice, she whispered. Please. No, we're in the middle of a city and... And what? And so many things, too many to encapsulate in words. Just the thought of it prickled shards of icy horror in his veins. I'm sorry, he said quietly, but the destruction would be. The destruction would be. And I... It was probably the first time he had ever failed to do what was in the Order's best interest, but all he could think about were those little faces in the windows. She looked for a moment as if she might push further, but then something shifted, softened in her expression. Her lips twisted into a sad smile. That bleeding heart will get you killed one day, you know. Maybe, the young man thought. Likely, the voice whispered. There was a long silence, and then finally, she simply said, I am your commanding officer. He almost questioned his sanity, questioned whether he heard her correctly. Your...