Querijn stood frozen, her thoughts locked in confusion, mirroring the silence that had overtaken Elisse. This was the first time she had seen living beings—Qaissaran and Netzaleh alike—kept inside Abimalech's crystal tower, preserved in stillness resembling death. Their posture mimicked prayer, yet no breath stirred their chests. Were they alive, suspended between moments, or had life already abandoned them? Why were they kept here? What had her father done to them?
Questions collided relentlessly inside her mind, multiplying without restraint, until Elisse finally gave voice to the uncertainty pressing upon them both.
"What do you mean, Father?" Elisse asked, her tone restrained yet strained. "Who are they?"
Arshya regarded the figures calmly, his expression untroubled. "They are ours," he replied. "Qaissaran, and Netzaleh as well—Netzaleh soldiers, to be precise. They attempted to infiltrate Zerdilla. Abimalech has rescued them from their misguidance."
"Rescued?" Querijn echoed, disbelief sharpening her voice. "From what?"
"…From what you fear," Arshya answered.
He lifted his right arm slightly.
At once, every figure standing at the far end opened their eyes in unison.
Querijn gasped.
The movement was too synchronized, too precise. They rose together, stepping forward as one body rather than many, advancing until a measured distance separated them from Arshya and his daughters. Then they halted, forming a wide ring around the trio.
"When the Crystal Tower of the Sky descended," Arshya continued, unperturbed by their sudden animation, "Abimalech became our guide. Confusion reigned at first. We grasped blindly at a phenomenon never faced before."
His fingers curled.
Green flame blossomed within his palm, casting shifting light across the chamber.
"Fire, water, earth, and air bend to us through Abimalech's power. Yet the Sky marked those who wielded it. Every follower bore its sign. Pride followed, for many believed that mark symbolized divine recognition." His gaze sharpened. "They forgot that the same crystal also silenced their bodies, gradually, unnoticed, without agony."
Querijn's breath caught. "Then you agree with me," she said, certainty trembling beneath her words.
Elisse stepped forward abruptly. "Why blame the Sky, Father? Calling the effect 'lethal' exaggerates the truth if you claim the Sky caused—"
"I am not finished, Elisse," Arshya interrupted, his tone measured rather than sharp.
He turned toward Querijn again, eyes gleaming with challenge.
"Elisse is correct. This is not the Sky's fault. Nor does Abimalech bear guilt." His voice lowered. "The blame rests upon us."
Querijn stiffened.
"We were naïve," Arshya continued. "Unrefined in our understanding of Abimalech's gift. We failed to recognize the true nature of our salvation." He gestured toward the ringed figures. "They demonstrate that truth."
Querijn's gaze swept across the circle. "I feel nothing from them," she said. "No presence. No life. What did Abimalech do?"
"I perfected Abimalech," Arshya replied. "The tragedy that claimed your mother will never repeat."
A chill crawled across Querijn's skin.
Thin lines of orange light pulsed along every vein visible upon the standing figures. Crystal-covered fingers flexed smoothly, unburdened by rigidity. Their movement lacked the stiffness she had seen among afflicted Qaissaran across the city.
Her heart pounded.
Elisse inhaled sharply beside her as Arshya removed his glove.
The skin of his right palm bore the same markings.
"No illness remains," Arshya said softly. "No suffering. Even death retreats. All through Abimalech. At last, I understand what the Sky entrusted to us."
Querijn's voice trembled. "What are you truly saying?"
"The Sky is us," Arshya declared. "We do not merely return to it. We embody it upon this land. Such is our destined role."
Silence fell.
Elisse remained composed, though something unreadable flickered within her eyes. Querijn stepped back, instinctively widening distance between herself and her father. His words felt too vast, too absolute, pressing against her chest like a closing wall.
Thoughts clashed violently within her mind.
Then Arshya's expression changed.
Horror widened his eyes.
Querijn turned sharply.
Behind them, a crystal formation glowed blue. Light parted stone, opening a passage. From it emerged Jeremiah Azaria, silver spear resting across his arms.
The air itself seemed to recoil.