Review Responses

Guest (Chapter 6): Dante's learning! It's a bit slow, but it's impressive, considering that it's really only been about six weeks. I do like writing Wes and Riley's relationship. It's a shame that I couldn't include them a bit more in this part of the story.

Guest (Chapter 7): Mist is the most competant person on this mission, and everyone knows it.

Guest (Chapter 8): Dr. Grace is NOT a canon character. There was a medic mentioned in canon, but she wasn't named, so I made one up. I assumed the Order would want to send their own medic instead of just Wes

Guest (Chapter 9): Thank you for saying that I wrote the Elder Wyrm well! It's tough to write someone so unlike any of the people that I'm used to. She was pretty blindsided by Dante. He didn't even give her time to prepare after the breeder islands, he just told them where the lab was and offered to go in. Anyone would be surprised.

A/N: Last chapter of From the Truth of a Thousand Lies is up, where I finally address the mess called chapters 7 and 8 for you! Enjoy Dante's moral crisis 2.10.

Chapter 11
(Dante)

He could still smell the blood and the smoke.

Dante had taken a shower, changed into new clothes, and scrubbed his hands raw, but the scent was still trapped in his nose. The ground had threatened to collapse on them as they ran, and the billowing ash and dust from the lab had followed them like a wronged spirit. Tristan's blood had stained his hands red as he tried to keep the bleeding to a minimum, as Mist had cut open part of his head so Dante could pinch shut a severed artery, as Tristan's feeble twitches stopped and his pulse became weaker and weaker until Dante couldn't even feel it. Mist had nearly pronounced him dead before Wes and the other doctor even reached them. He had been so cold.

You would've made a good Viper, if you weren't a better Chameleon.

Why had Tristan done that, after what Lilith had said? There wasn't any way someone would twist the words to make Dante innocent. Tristan had known that Dante was responsible for the destruction of the Western Chapterhouse. Of his Chapterhouse. It would've been in his right to let Dante die then and there, regardless of any promise he had made Ember. Why would he make that promise in the first place? It made no sense. Nothing made sense, anymore.

"Hey, tweedledum."

Dante didn't look up as Ember sat down at the foot of the porch chair, leaning back against his legs. His ban from the outdoors had been officially lifted; he knew that he was supposed to feel happy about that, but any emotion had been suffocated with the weight of the mission. Tristan had chosen to die for him. Mist knew about the Night of Fang and Fire. Tristan had chosen to die for him.

"How are you holding up?" she asked softly.

"I…" Dante swallowed. "I'm alive. Counts for something." He could still see Lilith, eyes blank and expression slack, blood leaking from the hole in her head. Even though she would've died anyway, even though he didn't pull the trigger, even though she would've killed him, the memory made him sick. She wouldn't even have a body to recover.

"I just got back from the medical tent," Ember said. Dante stiffened, hands curling into fists. He didn't think he could forgive himself if someone died for him. Tristan hadn't even known him, and he had went into a fight that he couldn't hope to win.

"Tristan lost a lot of blood, but he got a transfusion, and they're keeping him on fluids, so that shouldn't be a problem. The… the biggest problem is that there was some brain damage. They can't evaluate it until he wakes up, but it's not looking good. They're trying to hope for the best and prepare for the worst" She pulled at a lock of hair and shivered as a breeze blew past them. Autumn was definitely coming to a close. Dante wondered if it snowed, wherever they were. He hadn't ever seen snow, before.

"He has eye damage, too, but they think that will heal quickly, and it shouldn't have lasting damage. It will just be unpleasant for a few days," she continued. "The doctor put him in a medically induced coma, so he can recover a bit easier. Assuming that he lives through the next few hours, they think that he'll be able to come out of it. You… I know that you probably want to talk to him. I know that I do. But that's not going to be able to happen anytime soon. But… he's alive. That's a lot more than we could've hoped for."

Dante nodded and realized that his hands were shaking. "But there's brain damage."

"Yeah. Laceration to his… temporal lobe, I think? I don't know, I don't really understand medical things," Ember said. She snorted. "You'd think that, with everything I've gone through, I'd actually take some time to… read something, or ask Wes questions, or anything, but I still can't even do my own stitches. I guess it is something that I should look into."

Dante didn't reply, and Ember didn't try to carry the conversation any further. They were both left to think on their own. Tristan had known that Dante was responsible for his Chapterhouse. He still knew, even if he couldn't share the information. And Mist knew, too.

What was going to happen with him?

"When Tristan and I spoke in the attic, I asked him to look after you," Ember said softly. Dante had guessed as much, but he didn't interrupt. "I asked for him to put you above the mission, but what I… what I really wanted was for him to put you above his life. I didn't admit it to him, or even to myself, really, but he guessed as much, and… he promised that he'd do it. I don't know why. I didn't have the right to ask him to do it. And he… he kept his word. He's good at doing that, apparently." she paused and shivered again. "You know what he told me when we were in the attic?"

Dante swallowed. "What?"

"He said that I wasn't allowed to feel guilty if he died. It was his choice to do it. If I'm not supposed to feel guilty after I asked him to… to put you first, then there's no reason that you should feel it, either."

"If I had moved faster—"

"You couldn't outrun Lilith. Trust me, I've tried," Ember said. "Tristan knew the risks, and he accepted them. Might've been a knee-jerk reaction, but it was his choice. You didn't cause any of this. What you did do is save him from dying in that explosion. And even if you hadn't gotten him out alive, you would've given the other soldiers a body to bury. That means a lot." She sighed and stood up slowly. "You've changed a lot since you came here, Dante. I'm proud of you."

Dante couldn't meet her eyes. If only you knew what I've done.

The door opened.

"Dante."

Dante's head shot up to see Mist, back into her regular clothing, staring at him without a hint of emotion. She closed the door behind and leaned against the porch railing, keeping unwavering eyes contact. Dante looked away.

Mist knew about the Chapterhouse. The one secret that Dante hoped that he could take to the grave.

"Could I have some time with your brother, Ember? To talk about what happened?" she asked. Ember hesitated, her brow crinkling from worry. "Don't worry, he's safe, now. You'll have all the time in the world. There's just some things that happened that I'd like to work through."

Ember stayed in place for another moment before she nodded. "I guess someone has to keep Garret from sleeping on the floor of the medical tent. I'll be there if you need anything," she said.

Mist remained silent as Ember disappeared, seemingly content to let the both of them do nothing but think for a few moments.

"Have you told Cobalt, yet?" Dante asked softly.

"No," Mist replied. "He's… everyone inside is having a celebration. Without the vessel project able to continue, we're fairly safe, so they're taking the opportunity to get morale up. Cobalt is the happiest I've seen him ever since I went rogue. I don't want to ruin tonight with bad news."

Dante swallowed. "But you will tell him."

"There were five of his kids that died in that raid. He deserves to know who did it," Mist said. She was right, of course, but her words felt like a death sentence. Not just because of the punishment that he'd have to face, either. His friendship with Kain and Hamsah, the bridge of almost-trust with Astatine, Ember's pride in what he had done… it was all going to be taken from him, and there was nothing that he could do about it.

"Are you going to tell the Order?"

"I'm not sure, yet. If Tristan wakes up, is in his right mind, and remembers what happened, it'll be his decision whether or not to tell them, not mine. If he doesn't have the option for whatever reason, then I'll tell Riley and see how it goes from there. Whether or not it feels like a good idea from his point of view."

Dante nodded.

"I will tell you this much: if we do tell the Order, then chances are that we'll have to hand you over to their mercy," Mist said softly, her voice almost sympathetic. "Keeping alliances, showing good faith. I'm sure that you understand."

Dante took a shaking breath and nodded, keeping his gaze fixed on the ground. He could understand the unspoken words in the air: if she told the Order, he would be executed. There wasn't even a question. It did make sense. It's something that he would've done, if he were back in Talon and in a similar situation. The Order and the Underground needed the alliance. More boots on the ground, more forces unified against Talon. His life threw a wrench in everything.

"Ember would have a fit, though," she muttered before lapsing into silence, hopping up on the porch railing to watch the sunset. There were a few clouds in the sky, but it wasn't about to rain anytime soon. Their silence was only broken by the sounds inside the house. The dragonelles and the underground were celebrating, from the sounds of it. The Order probably was, too, even if Dante imagined that it was a bit more heavy, since it was their representative that had nearly died. That ccould still die for him, who had tried to kill everyone less than two months prior.

"Two years ago," Mist said softly, "I blew up a refugee center in Mexico." Dante looked up. Mist was still sitting on the porch railing, staring off into the cornfields. "They were sending supplies to St. George. Not weapons, or anything. Just medicine. But we needed to send a message to groups that stood with St. George instead of us, and they were the easiest target. They also had civilians inside from all over Latin America. Parents, children, innocents… I did my job, and I didn't care for a second."

Dante snorted softly. "What, are we trying to compare shitty things that we've done for Talon? I think that we'd be evenly matched, Ms. Anderson."

"You'd be surprised," Mist shook her head. "I've done… a lot of things that I'm not proud of. My moral compass doesn't point straight north. I doubt it ever will." She went quiet, then gave a long sigh. "A few weeks ago, if we were in that laboratory, I would've slit St. Anthony's throat the moment you told me that he was still alive. Given him a quick, clean death and moved on. But now… this underground is my second chance, so I can do better." She finally looked away from the horizon, glancing towards him for a moment. "I hope that it can be yours, too."

Dante looked out into the fields and leaned back in the chair. Numbly, he realized that he was truly a rogue, now. He could never make it to the top and find freedom in the power that it granted him, like he had dreamed of for his entire childhood. Those sixteen years of study and work were gone. If he went back to Talon, he'd be killed for what he did.

And strangely enough, he didn't regret it.

"I think it already is."

A/N: Wow. And it's over.

I think that it goes without saying, but I'm going to write a third installment of this series in the near-future. Probably a fourth, too. There's a lot to address in these 20,000 words. I don't know when I'm going to post them; I have another few stories that I'm working on, and they take my attention at the moment. (I also have school and stuff).

Please drop me a review, I'd really love to hear your thoughts on my work, or what you think will happen / want to happen in the future of this universe! Thanks for sticking with me for 50,000 words!