In between battles, Bakal rested, thinking of how Azra's heritage changed everything. Ever since he had heard of the young woman who could fight the revenants, he'd known she had to be protected, but he hadn't realized how special she was.
She was a fairly plain woman, long brown hair, slim, obviously from the capital. A librarian, thrust into the world of the plague and still trying to find herself and her way. Most of them were, except maybe Slak. He didn't need to tell them about the horrors of war. They were fighting battles, in that odd place between life and death.
He just wished that Azra really did understand the grave mistake he had made back then and how much it put her in danger now. How she had somehow become extremely valuable and how important it was to protect her. He owed it to her to keep her as safe as possible.
If he'd only known! Only known what he'd done originally, or even had been able to translate the words so he knew about that lowly soldier whose descendants had served in the Royal Library, unknowing that their blood could help rouse an ancient god. He'd have quiet words with Markos and Wrenna, to make sure both of them could help him keep that blood - that girl, that last living link, safe.
He'd talk to her too, try to make her understand. She wasn't stupid, just naive in ways, and he hoped that she would listen. She had to protect herself better than she was. If the cultists found her, reached her as she was bleeding, the world would come to an end.
And it would be all his fault. Yes, Zelemir's as well, but ultimately his. He hadn't paid close enough attention and now the world might end if he didn't protect an overly-bold librarian with all he had.
It was his burden, and his duty, and now he knew that he would have to pay the price.