The Void's Limit
679 Words
The child was dead before Elara reached her.
She lay on a cot in the clinic, her small chest still, her lips blue. The plague had taken her an hour ago. Sarai had already covered her face with a cloth.
But Elara couldn't accept it.
"Move," she said.
"Elara—" Sarai began.
"Move."
She pushed past the old healer and placed her hands on the child's chest. The void inside her stirred—reluctant, tired.
She is gone, the void said. There is nothing to consume. Nothing to heal.
"There's death. Consume the death."
I cannot consume death. Death is not a sickness. It is an absence.
"Then fill the absence."
With what?
"With me. With the void. With anything."
Elara poured golden light into the child's body.
---
The void screamed.
Not aloud—inside Elara's mind, inside her bones, inside the hunger that had been sleeping. The light burned. The child's body jerked.
Stop, the void begged. You are killing us both.
"Heal her!"
I cannot heal death. No one can.
"Then I'll die trying."
The golden light turned silver. Then red. Then black.
Elara collapsed.
---
She woke in darkness.
Not the darkness of the clinic. The darkness of the void's heart. The place where hunger was born.
The void stood before her—a figure of silver light, human-shaped, its face Elara's own.
You almost destroyed us.
"The child—"
Is dead. She was dead before you touched her. You cannot raise the dead. Not even hunger can raise the dead.
"Then what's the point? What's the point of carrying you if I can't save everyone?"
The void was silent.
Then: The point is not to save everyone. The point is to save who you can. To try. To keep trying. Even when you fail.
"That's not enough."
It is the only thing that is enough.
Elara closed her eyes.
"Take me back."
When you are ready.
"I'm ready."
You are not. But I will take you anyway.
---
Elara woke in the clinic.
Her father sat beside her, his grey eyes red from crying.
"You've been out for three days," James said.
"The child?"
"Buried. Her name was Lira. She was seven years old."
Elara stared at the ceiling.
"I tried to save her."
"I know."
"I failed."
"I know that too."
James took her hand.
"Failure isn't the end. It's just a step."
"A step toward what?"
"Toward learning your limits."
---
Sarai came in with broth.
"You need to eat."
"I'm not hungry."
"Eat anyway."
Elara sat up slowly. Her body ached—every muscle, every bone. The void inside her was quiet, almost absent.
"The void," Elara said. "Is it still there?"
I am here, it whispered. I am resting.
"Can you heal?"
I can heal the living. I cannot raise the dead. I have limits. You have limits. We must respect them.
"Or we die."
Yes.
---
Taylor visited in the evening.
She stood in the doorway, her hand on her sword, her face unreadable.
"You scared us."
"I scared myself."
"The void?"
"Almost killed us both."
Taylor walked to the bed and sat on the edge.
"I've spent my whole life fighting losing battles," she said. "The Inquisition. The Syndicate. The Maw. The void. Every time, I thought I could win if I just fought harder. Pushed further. Refused to stay down."
"That's what you taught me."
"I was wrong." Taylor took her hand. "Sometimes staying down is the only way to get back up. You have to know your limits. Respect them. Or you burn out."
"Like Dad with the Ember."
"Like your father with everything." Taylor almost smiled. "He never learned his limits either. That's why I had to learn them for him."
Elara squeezed her mother's hand.
"I'll try to do better."
"That's all anyone can ask."
---
The void spoke to Elara that night.
I have never tried to heal before. Only to consume. The limits are new to me.
"You'll learn."
So will you.
"Together."
Together.
The void was warm.
Elara slept.
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