Arrow Lake the caretaker

mahler's gaze dimmed with self-disappointment as stigmata spoke — had he been so distant that his brother did not believe he had the support of his kill-brother? nevertheless, even as a great weariness began to settle over mahler, he listened, lips a dark line of silence.
the pale woman liri came to mind, and then the sweet face of ruenna, upon which he had not allowed himself to dwell for some time. could he flash his teeth upon them? tear them according to stigmata's edict? and then all at once the magnitude of where they stood crashed down upon the gargyole. was this not their land, for which they had fought and shed blood? where children grew up in the shadow of stone teeth?
mahler in this moment put aside his weakness; he bowed his head before affixing the general with a resolute look. "stigmata, if you vere to order an attack upon the vale tomorrow, i vould be at your side." a tearing within him, but he had no loyalty to those who had abandoned diaspora, no matter how fervently he might wish she might come back.
"this land is ours," mahler went on, sweeping the roundabout expanse with his cold lilac eyes, "as are the mountains, the trees, and their inhabitants." as he spoke, his confidence gathered, his pride in what they had wrought. "and within a year, new young varriors to join our cause."
he looked upon stigmata again. "i am sorry i have given you cause to doubt me. my ... delicacy of feeling toward ruenna softened me somevhat, but never enough to betray you, my brother, or diaspora."