Brian McCLELLAN - The Autumn Republic

She glanced at the epaulets again, a bitter taste in her mouth.

“The country will need you. Tamas’s death has left a gap.”

“One I can’t hope to fill.”

“Just concentrate on the tasks at hand,” Taniel said.

Vlora responded, “Beon je Ipille has gone into hiding and there are rumblings of a Kez civil war. General Hilanska still needs to be brought to justice. Bo wants to combine Privileged and powder mages in the new republic cabal, and Gavril wants to make sweeping reforms to the Mountainwatch. There is… a lot to do.”

Vlora had expected a more emotional response from Taniel at the mention of Hilanska, but he just nodded and reached over to touch the gold epaulets she’d left on the desk.

“Tamas would be proud.”

Vlora looked down at her uniform, at the variety of accolades that she wanted every day to rip off the front. “You sure?”

“I am. Will you sell the house?”

Vlora blinked at him. “What do you mean?”

“I read about the will in the newspaper. With me dead, Tamas left everything to you and Bo,” Taniel said, touching the door frame with two fingers. “I’d sell it, personally. Too many memories.”

“Pit, no. I’m moving into it.”

Taniel seemed surprised, but after a few moments he smiled again. “That makes me glad, for some reason. We had a good time here, didn’t we?”

“We did.” They stood quietly for several moments before Vlora said, “Forgive me?”

“Only if you forgive me.”

“I already have.”

They hugged, and Vlora felt Taniel’s lips pressed to her forehead. She felt dampness in her hair, and when they separated, Taniel wiped tears from his eyes.

Vlora took his hand. “Good luck. Take care of yourself.”

“You too.”

He left her in the quiet of her new home.

She remembered a night not long after Tamas had taken her in, when she’d had nightmares. Tamas had come to her room and put her back in bed. He had kissed her on the forehead, which no one had ever done for her before, and told her that nothing would ever harm her or Taniel while he lived.

Even with the blood and slaughter and death, she hadn’t had a nightmare since.

“Were you talking to someone?” Olem asked, entering the office.

Who would keep the nightmares away now, she wondered, but even as she did so, she could hear Tamas’s voice in her head. You will , he seemed to say.

“No one,” she answered Olem. “Just shadows of the past.”

Brian McClellanis an avid reader of fantasy and graduate of Orson Scott Card's Literary Bookcamp. When he is not writing, he loves baking, making jam from fruit grown in northeast Ohio, and playing video games. He currently lives in Cleveland, Ohio with his wife. Find out more about Brian McClellan at www.brianmcclellan.com.