Twilight paints the lake in pale kaleidoscopic light as birds whistle through the surrounding woods,
before his children's laughters
swell his heart in pure bliss.
Awestruck, he watches as a glowing, spirit-like figure twirls before him.
A gentle breeze stirs her curls into whispering waves while her long lashes veil her lowered eyes.
A rosy blush warms her cheeks, her lips bloom a luscious red,
and her ethereal face is the closest he has come to glimpsing heaven.
Ivory fabric drifts like mist around her milky skin as her fingertips lightly gather the flowing skirt.
Light seeps into the little figures circling around her,
a little girl with floating curls and a beaming boy with bright, beautiful eyes never
leaving the young woman he calls Mother.
His heart races as her eyes find his, a soft smile blooming upon her lips.
In that mysterious moment, he beholds a whole world... his young wife,
their little children, and a serene corner of creation untouched by shadow.
The fullness of it overwhelms him, tears welling in his eyes as a breathless wave of a pure, soaring joy sweeps through his soul.
He steps forward, their musical laughters sprinkling over him like silvery dewdrops. His trembling fingers reach for her, when dawn erupts into a blinding flood of light.
His love and their children dissolve into the brilliance, like morning mist melting before the burning rays of the sun.
Then he awakens in the smothering woods, drowning in the cold sweat
of reality, torn from an ephemeral dream.
But he knows this is no dream as he watches her emerge from the tent,
her face every bit as breathtaking as the vision that had graced his sleep.
As she draws the sheer black veil from her head,
the deep green folds of her dress brushing the ground, the painful verity haunts him.
He remains hidden in the darkness of the woods as she walks the opposite way.
Children laugh and gather around her and a blonde woman in the cottage foyer
before she disappears from sight.
He steps forward, but a firm hand on his shoulder stops him mid-step.
"The appointed time will come," Gideon says. "But it is not yet."
"And watch my children die... while my wife warms another man's bed?" Ishmael says quietly.
Gideon remains unmoved. "When the camp is revealed to the priests, the soldiers will come.
Then you shall return unto your family."
"When will that be?" he asks again.
"Soon," Gideon replies. "It shall all come to an end soon."
The solemn certainty in Gideon's pale grey eyes only deepens his doubt.
Even so, Gideon had remained behind when the agents rescued the refugees and took Jacob captive.
Gideon had seen a vision of the camp and led him back to his family, where thousands of refugees had gathered.
War is already looming over Miraeth. The moment Leviathan reveals the camp to the other priests, soldiers will pour into the camp. Miraeth will drown in the chaos of warring faiths, and he has to get his family away before they are swallowed by it.
But in the end, whose side would Gideon truly choose? Why was he helping him at all? Had he done the right thing by coming alone instead of bringing the guards?
It had been Gideon's strategy to remain as inconspicuous as possible.
And he was desperate to be with his family, to make sure his children were safe, that his daughter was still holding on for him.
Yet if Gideon does not flinch at the deaths of thousands because his own family was slaughtered for their faith,
why would he care whether he and his family ever made it off the island alive?
He thought nothing could surprise him anymore, until that night, six months ago, when the vessel transporting him to Erriador under the agents' custody came under attack by a band of mercenaries.
After he was rescued by the mercenaries commanded by the notorious fugitive Huston, he met the priests whom Huston served, one of them being Gideon.
Funny. Gideon had tried to lead him down the path of faith, preaching to him while he was held captive in that cramped room under the watch of one of the agents.
Gideon never disclosed where the true faith of Ephrath's villagers lay, nor that he was a respected pastor.
He is a man still torn between morality and revenge, and he can never truly be trusted.
"We must find a place of rest until then," Gideon says, making his way toward the quieter edge of the camp,
farther from the main village.
He follows after him, his gaze drifting to the guards patrolling the forest's edge,
bows slung across their backs, paying them no mind.
The guards wouldn't know that they had arrived through the woods paths, a choice by necessity.
The gates would have meant scrutiny, questions,
and a search they could not afford.
Yet within the woods, they found one willing to bargain with them,
granting them a means to trespass into the camp without inviting suspicion.
He owed the crone a future debt, one she would collect when the time came.
He casts a glance toward the cottage for a glimpse of her, only to see Agent Czar heading toward it instead.
He looks away, a numbing ache spreading through his chest.
It's as though he's trapped inside the narrowing confines of a coffin, paralyzed as a deafening roar engulfs him.
Fire races beneath his skin, the pain intensifying until the sickening scent of burning flesh numbs all his senses.
His throat tightens as a sharp epiphany of failure drags him back to where it went wrong.
Had the plan to bargain Neva for the believers succeeded after the initial assault that left them trapped within the cave, he would have been at peace by now.
He had forged an alliance with the priests to wipe out the believers before they reached the Promised Land. It meant stopping their Prophetess, and bring his wife back to him.
He could have demanded her surrender as soon as his men had infiltrated the
believers with explosives. Instead, Gideon sought something far worse, to poison their hearts against both her and her God.
Then Agent Knight ruined the plan by threatening the lives of his own children.
Yet Gideon's scheme had done its work, and the easily swayed flock turned against her, and in the end, he had not truly lost.
He had his children back, and he still possessed the one advantage that mattered. Because she would come back if the believers' lives were at stake.
But then his daughter fell ill, and all he could think about was how to save her.
Now she had taken them back from him.
But how were they being treated now? Were they even still alive?
Rage consumes him, burning through his mind until everything dissolves into a haze of smoke.
He'll make sure she understands the grave mistake she's made once he gets the chance to take her back. Just one chance.
He'll break her limbs if that's what it takes to keep her by his side.
Because he can.
Because she's his to love, his to possess, his to break, his to save, and his to destroy.
Only... his.