“That is the third time you have stepped on my foot,” Cerid remarked, “but I feel that, somehow, you are improving.”

“Sorry. Thank you?” Dorothea stared at the chapel’s newly polished floor and put more effort into keeping her toes nowhere near his, which put an awkward and improper distance between them.

“It would do you some good to relax,” he advised, falling still to guide her a bit closer. “Your body will remember the steps soon enough. Dancing is much like swordplay. Trusting your movements and becoming tacitly aware of your center and the space you occupy are important and will feel more natural with practice.”

“Okay.” The steps he had taught her reeled through her mind, and she nodded when ready to resume. “But how am I supposed to know when I need to step forward instead of you stepping forward?”

“You will feel me shift, and the pressure on your back will become more firm. Trust me. I will lead you. Either that, or your back will hit a wall or a different person.”

“Let’s just not do that…” Dorothea looked over her shoulder and let out a slow breath. They were being watched, and they both knew it. That was the entire reason for their meeting here, after all.

“Relax,” Cerid repeated in a whisper. It sounded like he was trying to convince both of them. “I have dealt with this pressure for all of my life. The only thing to do is to keep going.”

She grasped his hand more tightly. “Lead on, then.” Within seconds, he received another blow courtesy of her foot to his. “Um, maybe we should try dancing another time?”

He smiled, letting out a light laugh. “Perhaps we should not have begun with the foxtrot, either. I shall offer something much more simple.” His hand landed on her lower back. “Please continue to follow my lead, as it were.” They devolved to simple swaying in a slow, small circle. “Once, a genius without parallel discovered that moving their feet slightly would cause them to turn in a circle while dancing with a partner. This is what my sister calls the simpleton’s dance.”

“It’s very much at my level, thank you. Did you all have to learn to dance?” It seemed a typically noble-esque sort of thing.

“Me specifically, yes. Not all of my siblings. My birth mother advised my father that women appreciate a man who can dance, and then lessons became mandatory. I enjoyed them despite the intent, however. I do believe it assisted my efforts in gaining the edge in bouts against my siblings.”

“Your, what was it, tacit awareness?”

“Indeed.” He tilted his head in thought. “I never asked you myself. Because you are Shark’s friend, I assumed that you would follow where we are going.” His cheeks flushed at the mere mention of Shark’s name. “But your life is your own, and our burdens do not fall onto you. What is it that you want, Miss Dorothea?”

“Oh…” She stared, shocked. Her time in Sacer had been guided largely by the interests of others weighing atop her vague desire to make something of her life. There had to be something much more than that, though. “I… Why do you call me ‘Miss’?” she asked, primarily to give herself more time to think.

“Well… Because you were a stranger to me. Until a stranger becomes familiar or trusted or close, whatnot, I prefer to give a formal address.”

“Do you think things have changed, Mister Cerid?”

He frowned. “I realize how it sounds now that I hear it from you. Very well then. We are friends now, as is proper, so… Dorothea. Please tell me.”

In the end, her desire was reflective of the small slice of the world she had always known. “I just want peace for everyone. I don’t want there to be war. And I think most people would say that we’re about to create that world, but exterminating Ghuria isn’t peace. It’s a war without end to leave scars like that. I don’t even know if I can trust you enough to be saying this, but I don’t want to hide it.” She wasn’t able to accept the nature of war or what others deemed necessary for peace. “I’m not sure that tranquility is worth reaching if its roots are a massacre.”

Cerid contemplated her whispers for a long time. His expression shifted, conveying enough for her to understand what she’d set off in him. Concern, confusion and serious consideration interchanged to reach a final disquieted frown.

“When I was a child,” he began eventually, “I thought that kindness could rule the world. That notion was dispelled when I became a soldier. Kindness has not helped anyone. It is a deadly thing. Yet my father tells me that it is because I am supposedly kind that I am to become a leader. I do not understand your words, but they reach a place in my heart where I… It feels as if something is breaking.”

“I’m sorry, Cerid.” Had they all lost that something, then? In becoming warriors, what had been forced out to make room for the hatred it took to survive?

His brows were knitted. “I cannot envision it. Is it possible? The peace you want?”

“I don’t know. No one seems to think it’s worth trying.”

“If the opportunity arose, I would surely take it, I think.” He smiled a tired smile. “It is no good to dream of impossible things.”

That was her point, though. To immediately write it off as impossible was what doomed them all. “Do you really think war will end after Ghuria is gone? Do you think that Sacer and Sirpo will never have disagreements, or that there won’t be someone somewhere who will crave more power than they’ve already been given?”

His tentative mystification only seemed to deepen. “What are you saying?”

“War won’t end if you all…if we destroy Ghuria. The only thing these methods will accomplish is enforcing the use of extreme violence as a tactic.” Her feet stilled despite the overwhelming urge in her muscles to take off running. “Cerid? I should go.”

“I shall accompany you.”

“I, well… I don’t know if that’s a good idea. I don’t think you’ll like what you hear.” She hardly knew what she was doing in the first place, moving on emotion and whim. Add a little pinch of desperation, and there they were.

“It does not matter if I like what I hear. I only wish to understand. There is so much tension around us all, always, and I do not know the source. It is tiresome and worrying.” He paused, frowning at her. “I am not intelligent or insightful.”

Except he really, really was, he just didn’t see it. “Cerid…”

“Why do you always look as if you are in so much pain when we talk of war? Why does it seem as if joining Shark and I in the future is the last thing you wish to do?”

Though she knew the danger, instinct told her he could be trusted. “If you’re sure you want to know, then come on.” While they were still in the chapel, she held his arm and wore a soft smile, eyes downcast. She took his hand in the streets and gradually quickened their pace as they veered towards Springen’s farmlands.

“This is where Ariana lives, is it not?” The shock on Cerid’s face made it clear he’d never visited the area.

“I think so, but we’re not here for her.” Guiding Cerid to skip the notorious squeaky step, she planted herself on the Nobelis family porch.

“Miss… Just Dorothea, that is. Are you going to knock on the door? It has been three minutes and roughly forty-seven seconds.”

“I’m working up to it.” Once she was fully prepared, she rapped with a cautious beat.

“I believe that was almost inaudible.”

“Geez…” As she raised her fist again, the door swung open.

“Oh. It’s you,” Foster Nobelis observed. “And…” His blank expression morphed into a tired frown. “A Creed. In these parts. Fancy that.”

Cerid tried and failed not to react to the shabbiness of the house. “Yes, sir. Well met.”

“Sure, sure. Mind stating your purpose?”

Dorothea took a tiny step towards him. “I came to ask you a few questions, if I may, and to apologize for my conduct the last time we saw one another. I reacted poorly and was rude beyond belief. I’m very sorry.”

He sighed and gestured for them to head inside. “Sharee and I weren’t exactly friendly either. Seeing her daughter gets us both bent out of shape. Either way, it’s not something worth dwelling on for any of us.”

“Thank you.” Though he was basically saying he didn’t care.

Foster shrugged, putting a hand on his wife’s shoulder to redirect her attention from her work as Dorothea and Cerid shuffled to stand in her view. As before, papers were scattered and tacked up to almost completely obscure the walls and floors. By now, Dorothea could tell, the writings had all been changed, previous papers tossed out or stored away.

“Is this really productive?” she wondered aloud.

“You know,” Foster sighed, “you’re pushing it.”

“Again, sorry. I’ll be quick.” She took a deep breath. “What’s your plan, to be exact?”

“Come again?” Sharee had turned and was scrawling away, but she waved her hand to urge Dorothea to continue and to show she was still listening.

“When you make your calls for peace, what plan do you have to reach it? What do you want everyone to do?”

Foster held up fingers as he listed points. “A ceasefire, to start with. Peace talks where we level as fellow human beings rather than different races. It would require a rearrangement of lands or a generous trade agreement, preferably both, so that the Ghurians could share in Sacer’s and Sirpo’s resources. Those with privilege must make sacrifices to even the field. That would barely scratch the surface of the work that needs to be done.”

Dorothea nodded, thoughtful. “I see. The emotional work, too.” Forgiveness wouldn’t be possible for many, not after all of the death and destruction both sides had unleashed upon the other. “Is it possible for that kind of healing to happen?”

“It has to be.” Sharee’s hands had stilled. “Or this cycle will continue.”

“Would the council agree to redistribute the lands and resources in the first place? And even if that does happen, what happens when the next fearful magic needs to die out or someone wants more?” Dorothea paced a few steps. “What if you didn’t have to change the lands or reallocate resources? If Ghuria’s lands were fertile, they wouldn’t need to fight for resources.”

“We can’t base our protests on the impossible,” Sharee snapped. “Ghuria’s lands —”

“Have been utterly wasted since the War of Seasons, I know,” Dorothea interrupted. “And Wither travelling through it ten years ago would only have made things worse. That’s part of why they’re so desperate now. But if we could return the fertility of the lands, resources wouldn’t be a problem, correct?”

“Is that possible? To reverse the state of the land to a time when you weren’t even alive?” Sparks seemed to fly from Sharee’s eyes as she realized Dorothea’s intentions. “Using your magic to restore it to how it was hundreds of years ago…”

“It is.” Dorothea swallowed past a lump in her throat. “So, do you think that would work? Or that it would even give us a ghost of a chance to reach a slightly less…genocidal resolution?”

“Genocide?” Sharee gasped, alarmed.

“Peace for Sacer, in most people’s minds, means the total elimination of Ghuria. I… I need you to tell me that this is a good enough idea to act on. I’m not brave or strong, but if there’s something, anything…” There had to be a way to stop the unthinkable from happening.

“We don’t have the full picture, but I can advise this,” Sharee offered. “Whatever the commander… Whatever my daughter is planning, you need to enter into talks with Ghuria before she puts anything into motion. Time is of the essence.”

Foster continued, “It’s not as simple to do it as it is to say it, but it’s the truth. If you present this plan and convince Ghuria to announce a ceasefire or even a truce, then Sacer won’t have an excuse to move in on them. The kicker is that you need to find a way to enter into these talks without getting killed.”

True. If she approached carelessly, people like Johanna or Wesley on the Ghurian side would slice her into prime cuts between blinks. But there was someone on the other side who had used words rather than violence on a few small occasions. She’d have to hope for one more chance. “There’s a person I can try to reach out to.” Nevermind how.

“Is there anything we can do to help?” Sharee asked, wringing her hands while excitement and anxiety fluctuated in waves across her face.

They weren’t strong either, Dorothea realized. They were two voices in a sea of dissent, battered by towering waves. But even so, they had never stopped fighting in their own way. “How do I get Iree to listen to me?” If the commander decided to move ahead with her plan regardless, it would be a huge and deadly complication.

Foster sighed. “Iree is stubborn. She hardly listens to anyone once she’s convinced she’s stronger than them. Or strong enough not to need them anymore…” He looked to his wife with sympathy.

Sharee’s voice came out strained with regret. “Because of her late father and I, Iree lost everything. Losing anything else is where it hurts her the most. Dale Holmfen’s death almost broke her. If you hit her there… If you make it clear to her that violence only leads to more loss, then maybe. That’s the only way I can think of.” She looked to her husband, and he nodded. “Iree is a good girl. I know… I hope she can be convinced.”

“Okay. If I can, I’ll keep you updated. And, with Iree… I’ll try. I promise.” Nothing was certain, as usual, but it was a step forward. She bowed to Sharee and Foster. “One last time, I’m sorry. I didn’t have enough sympathy for what you’ve been through. All of you. Sacerians and Ghurians alike.”

Sharee smiled faintly. “Likewise, though you’ll not get me to admit it a second time.”

“Take care.” Foster gestured around them to a torn room filled with unheeded calls. “It’s not much, but there’s a safe place for you and your allies here if you need it. We usurpers have to stick together.”

“I’ll keep it in mind. If there’s anything I can do, let me know. For now… Farewell.” Dorothea whirled and all but leapt down the stairs outside, where Cerid caught her arm at the base. He had observed the entire exchange silently, not reacting until now.

“You…” he began, faltering as confusion and concern scrunched his face. “You have been playing with the notion, but your intentions and desires… I do not want to say the words, but this is treason. This is what a traitor would say.”

Dorothea pulled away and folded her hands. “Then, yes. Like the Nobelises in there, I’m a traitor to Sacer.” She narrowed her eyes, trying to see deeper into him than she knew how to. “Have you really never once thought that exterminating a race of people just because you fear them and because they’ve taken from you just like you’ve taken from them might not be the right thing to do? Because the conclusion seems obvious to me. Sacer put Ghuria at a disadvantage right at the start. If we don’t change that, history will always be on the same path. Generations will experience the same conflict, no matter how far we manage to go. Since I’ve been made to no longer stand by… Because my hand was forced, I’m going to fight in the way I want.”

She felt the conviction in her heart now: Gren Fall wasn’t lying. Iree had made it clear that she would do anything for victory. Destroying Sirpo wouldn’t have been a stretch for her.

“I…” His eyes widened when he realized that her clasping of hands was in preparation for use of her magic.

“Iree’s not going to find out about today. I let you come with me because I think I can trust you. I know that you’re a good person. But I also know, since you and Shark have confirmed it, that you don’t particularly mind Ghuria’s destruction if it gives you more room to pursue your own interests. If this was before and the war had never come to Sirpo, I wouldn’t have cared either. It’s too late for me to say, but I can’t let you all do this no matter what.”

Cerid clenched his hands into trembling fists. “How do you expect me to respond? Ghurians are the enemy. They want to kill us.”

“They want lands that provide them with the basic resources to live! Do you really not see that, or have you just chosen to be ignorant all this time? I was the same as you, but I can see that much!” She threw her hands up in frustration. “They’re not demons, they’re hungry!”

Cerid let out a bitter laugh. “Is that how you would sum up this entire conflict?”

His confusion was turning to anger, she knew, alongside the growing edge that laced his words. “If you think about it, you’ll know that the method you see as acceptable is wrong. The Ghurians will probably want my head rather than my help at this point, but I have to at least try. Please tell me you’ll stand aside.”

“You are asking me to believe in the impossible!” he cried. “All of what you are saying is what I have been told time and time again never to trust!”

“I’m asking you to believe in me and my magic.” That was all she had to offer, meager as it was. “I want to make a world ruled by kindness. You’ve experienced for yourself that just because there’s a way something has been done or there’s a dominating belief doesn’t mean it’s right.”

He gazed at her for a long time, deciding. “I will not breathe a word to Commander Nobelis. Or Shark, or anyone else, for that matter. Do what you must. All I ask is that, when you fail, please come to see reason.” And please help us, his eyes begged of her.

“In turn, I’ll ask you to please keep thinking about what I’ve said. You say you want a world where no one will ever have to suffer like you and Shark have in having to hide yourselves. Please consider if your goal is actually compatible with the legacy you intend to create.”

“Stop. Please. My head feels as if it will…” He pressed his palms to either side of his skull as if to contain some kind of pressure.

“You’re right. That’s enough for now.” She took a cautious step to him and held out her hand. “I’m not saying or doing this to hurt you or anyone else.”

He hesitated, staring at her fingers before taking them in a loose hold. “Tread lightly. You will not find anyone else willing to entertain you. To be honest, if it were not for your relationship with Shark, I…” Suddenly, his grip was painful. “If it were not for them, I would have dealt with you much differently.”

Dorothea nodded, fighting a shiver of fear. That was right. There was only one person in Sacer she could trust with these thoughts, and he… Well, she needed to find him and share her plans. But not now. All of that could wait until tomorrow. She had disturbed Cerid thoroughly and was now compelled to find a way to comfort him. “Come with me, please.”

“What now?” he asked, wary and trudging behind her as she pulled.

“We’re going to find Shark. Zeal’s Web is a day for lovers. I’m sure we can find a way for you two to spend time alone without anyone getting suspicious.”

“Oh…” Cerid’s cheeks flushed, and he hung his head. “You are a good person.”

No, she wasn’t. But she was trying, and hopefully it wasn’t too late.