“The Seraphim’s so-called aid has only ever served to feed West’s greed. It is our duty to protect our people, to preserve our way of life. It is our duty to take back what is ours.”
It was three years since Ilana had joined the resistance. She stood at the center of the encampment before her commander, listening with rapt attention. Ilana cut a wiry, sylphic figure, her raven-black hair braided with crystal beads and freshwater pearls, her jaw stubbornly set, arms folded across her chest.
“Many of our people say that we, the children born after the Fall, were condemned from birth. I say we are exalted. Every last one of us has risen from the ashes of the undying dark, and we are stronger for it. We are stronger than any sun-worshipper who has ever lived before us.” The Commander stood b
