[This post is from Phelan’s point of view.]
“Oh,” Phelan said, blinking slowly and trying to process what she’d just said. “Well that…that seems like par for the course.”
Marin heaved a sigh and shook her head, continuing to walk in the direction Phelan had come from. He frowned slightly, turning to follow her. A wave of fresh nausea crashed over him and he paused for a second. Hecate put a hand out to steady him.
“Are you sure you should be up?” she asked gently.
“Are you sure that I shouldn’t be?” He smiled weakly. “Have we already had the war council?”
“Do we ever really have one?” Marin sighed. “Some decisions are being made. We didn’t get a vote in at least one. There’s another we’re going to fight.”
“Right,” Phelan said. “Did you pick my cousin’s brain?”
“That’s where we were coming from,” Hecate said. “That’s how I know I can’t hide, not this time.”
“Mm.” His vision twined for a second, then narrowed back to single focus. Phelan took a careful breath, swallowing some bile down. He’d have to find something stronger to take than what Jacqueline had given him. “The basics?”
“Matt wants to take the fight to them,” Marin said. “Before they can hit us here. It’s an idea with merit if we can pull it off.”
“And if we can secure everything here for the people who stay behind,” Phelan said, thoughts drifting. Something about this felt familiar, but the why was elusive, evading his mental grasp even as he reached for it. A silent sigh escaped his lips.
Either it would be important, or it wouldn’t be. It was probably some long-forgotten yesterday, and forgotten for a reason. Despite appearances, he was old—and he knew that he was old, accepted it. He had forgotten more things in his lifetime than many would ever know.
Sometimes, that was a defense mechanism. This could have been one of those times.
It probably wasn’t important.
“That is a concern,” Marin said. “Do you think we can?”
“We can try,” he murmured. “That’s all we can do.”
“Then we try,” Hecate said, shrugging. “It’ll be nice to come home to something safe.”
“Will it ever be that?” Marin asked softly, glancing at Hecate, then at Phelan. “Will it ever really be that?”
“You’re the Seer, Marin,” Phelan said. “You tell me.”
She didn’t say anything, just looked away.
It was all the answer they needed.
Eighth paragraph down: you have written ‘his vision twined for a second’. I am picky, but I think you meant ‘twinned’, not twined. I have had migraines, and perhaps they made my vision swirl and twist like a climbing vine twining up a post, but it is more likely that my eyes wandered separately, giving me double vision because it was too much trouble to focus on anything.
Overall, your story is interesting, and I keep wondering what will happen next to these characters that I have gradually come to care about.