It wasn't supposed to be like this, Elarion thinks, glaring at the council of elves who have gathered to condemn her.
She wants to be able to sweep the smug looks from their faces, but her hands are bound in silvery chain behind her, tight and immobile.
It wasn't supposed to be like this.
"For your crimes against magic," the nearest Moonshadow elf says, her blue eyes burning with anger as she stares down at Elarion, "For the murder of Archmage Aaravos, through the vile act of dark magic, you are to be bound in silver chain, so that you may not escape your doom. You are condemned to the deepest depths of the ocean."
Elarion doesn't quite break down at that pronouncement. She's known in her heart, that he could not have survived her attack.
She's killed the one person who she loved more than anything.
She had ripped the magic from him, ignored his screams of agony and tore free the brightest star that she had ever seen.
For that alone, she thinks, she deserves death.
She takes solace in the knowledge that the dark magic will spread across the continent, that even though she may die here, that knowledge she had stolen from the very stars themselves would remain in the hands of humanity.
And maybe one day, she thinks as the elves haul her to her feet, towards the ship that will carry her to the last place she will ever see, humanity may stand beside elvenkind as equals, as bright and shining as the stars.
She is reminded of watching the ocean with her teacher, a calm settling over her soul as she watches the shore begin to shrink away as the sails fill with wind.
It had been a warm day, and he'd shone no less beneath the noonday sun than he did in the light of the stars, sitting beside her on the cliffside, watching the seabirds wheel overhead.
"What has caught your attention so, zahrat saghira?" Aaravos asks, and in her memory he is whole, alive, his sketchbook open on his lap as he draws.
"Nothing," Elarion says, flushing at the nickname. Little flower.
"It cannot be nothing," Aaravos says, flicking his golden gaze from his work to study her. "Your nature is not to be silent, Elarion. Come, tell me."
"It's just...do you really think I can learn to cast magic as easily as you do?" Elarion asks.
"I do," Aaravos says, setting aside his sketchbook and turning to clasp her hands in his. "You will be able to do great things, Elarion. I have foreseen it. You have the strength and determination to make your will reality. But..." he says softly, and his gaze is as hard as Elarion has ever seen. "You must understand that the easy way is not always the best way.
"Just as life is not made to be easy, thusly does magic reflect that reality. Magic requires focus, study, and dedication. It is not a road made for the weak-willed." Aaravos says.
"I am not weak!" Elarion cries.
"You are not," Aaravos agrees, "but even the strong may be tempted with the easy road. You can learn this," he releases her hands, his fingers a blur as he traces runes in the air with a speed that Elarion envies.
A miniature star sits in the palms of his hands when he's finished.
"You make it look so easy," Elarion says wistfully.
"Practice," he explains. "One day, you will be able to cast it as easy as I."
"Promise?"
"Promise," Aaravos says, dismissing his spell and picking up his charcoal and sketchbook again. He smiles at her, bright and warm.
"We're here," a voice says, disturbing her thoughts, and hands shove her forwards, to the edge of the boat.
The waters are calm, a blanket of deep azure stretching out beyond the horizon.
Elarion casts her gaze to the sky, where the stars remain hidden. Perhaps, she thinks, she might find Aaravos in her next life.
Behind her she can hear the sounds of a great boulder being attached to her chains and then she is stumbling over the side as the stone plummets into the depths.
She has no time to shriek a last curse as she is dragged downwards.
The sun is vanishing from her sight, the stone sinking further and further. The pressure is heavy, and it forces the last gasp of air from her lungs. The water floods in, choking her, cold and icy as it squeezes the life from her body.
Darkness is closing in, light dimming.
Aaravos, she thinks, her tears lost to the ocean's waters, Teacher, I am sorry. I am so sorry.
Then Elarion lets the darkness drag her into its bottomless depths, surrendering to the endless void.