Silas
Silas had known from the time he had woken from his memories that the only way he would be able to defeat the Overlord was with Eryn's help. What he hadn't known was if she would be able to do it.
When Iolis had frozen him, he believed his life was over, his mission to find justice for Aren, and all of the Cursed, failed. He stood with his muscles locked in position with Feng and the Overlord looking at him, his brother prepared to sink his blade into his chest.
It was another forgotten memory, remembered when he saw the man. Feng had once been his Lieutenant, his strategist and confidant. After the battle in Neder, he had been promoted to General Errant, a roaming leader who traveled where he was needed. They were brothers, not in blood but in deed. They had sworn an oath, he and Feng, along with the others from his generation, along with him. Loyalty, honesty, brotherhood, with loyalty foremost above all else. There was nothing loyal in his deception, regardless of what Feng had decided. Fighting him had been a painful sadness. Falling to him a humiliation.
Then, something had happened. Silas found he could move. His body fell forward as it was let go of the Overlord's power. Feng was still next to him, but he was doubled over on the ground, a sword point protruding through his back. Eryn's sword.
Eryn was there, on the ground, her face laying towards him, almost peaceful despite the blood that coated it. The Overlord was behind her, on his hands and knees and looking up at him with dull, weak eyes.
He heard the metal boots of the soldiers approaching. He turned and slipped his blade past one's guard, and then the other, putting deep slashes into their abdomens before they even knew they had been attacked. They both fell while he turned back to Iolis.
"Talon," the Overlord said. "I was there. The day Aren died. I killed him. I cut off his head."
Silas looked down on him.
"Murderer," he whispered.
***
He could hear the crowd outside. The murmurs, the cries, the hisses and hushes. He could feel the pent up anger and frustration in the air. He knew the assembled masses had heard the fighting inside. He knew that they would be wondering what was happening, as would the gathered soldiers who had never been summoned to an alarm that had never been raised.
He walked towards the open doors that led out to the balcony, his bare feet slippery from the blood that had run beneath them. Red footprints trailed in his wake, a shedding of pain and sorrow.
As he grew closer to the balcony, he could see out past the palace walls, to the city below. He was surprised by the fires he spied in the background, and the distant echoes of shouting and battle. Before that moment, he'd have had no way to know what he had started in Elling, just by being present in the city. He'd have had no way to know how many had answered Atticus' call.
The walk felt like it took him forever. He was tired, and sore, and more than a little worried about the girl he had left behind, resting on the floor, the Overlord's cloak covering her and keeping her warm. He had found the beginnings of the thread of memories that had been stolen from him, and with it a measure of vengeance for the wife and son that had been stolen, but he still had one more thing to do.
When he reached the balcony, he placed his left hand upon the railing, to hold himself up. He looked down at the citizens of Elling. He looked down at the soldiers gathered there to conduct the searches and keep the crowds in line. They looked back at him, confused, scared, upset.
He found the bowmen on the walls across from him. They had a clear line of sight, and were well within range, yet they held and waited. They could see what was going on outside the walls. It was easy to be loyal when you were in control.
He took a deep breath.
"My name is Silas Morningstar," he said, his voice booming across the courtyard. "Many years ago, I was known as Talon Rast, General of the Northern Armies. I fought for him, killed for him, murdered your sons and daughters for him."
He paused, waiting to see how the crowd would react. They stood silent, staring up at him, their faces a mixture of shock, anger, and uncertainty.
"I came out here to apologize to you. To pledge myself to you. To promise you my dedication in bringing an end to his dark empire. I have brought you a gift, a token of my vow. The rebellion has started, here in Elling. It will finish when I reach his gates, and squeeze the life from him with these hands."
He lifted both of his hands then, his body unsteady on tired legs. A gasp rippled through the throng.
Silas drew back his right hand, threw the head of Overlord Iolis out into the courtyard below, turned, and walked away.
The crowd erupted in chaos.