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His eyes were the wrong color, not Reynolds’s sapphire blue, and they were cold…but curious, too, and looking at us with a certain…familiarity. And this man didn’t share my auburn locks. Instead, wheat-blond hair framed a face as hard and sharp as a blade. The jawline, the curve of the cheeks, the line of the nose…no, the man was more mature, older…it couldn’t be him.
Those golden eyes met mine over Ellie’s back as our rescuer pulled her into a tight embrace. He smiled, and it was like a bolt of lightning ran through me. That smile…I never thought I’d see it again. It was Reynolds’s smile, and it both lit and softened the man’s face, letting the truth shine from him so bright and warm that the icy barrier I’d been building around myself melted away. “Hi, Mom. I’m back.”
The smile reserved for his loved ones.
Arthur…it really was him. My son.
I wanted to tell him how much he meant to me. How glad I was to have him…as my son.
My old mentor and friend ruffled the girl’s hair in a very un-Jasmine-like way. “I’ll be fine.” Her scarlet gaze moved back to me. “So, while we were all here fighting for our lives, you were busy getting your hair dyed, huh?”
The usually stoic Lance had tears in his eyes, and he stared at Arthur in disbelief, then he leaned forward, resting his forehead against Arthur’s in a sign of respect and care.
“I’m not afraid to fight, El.” He gave me a wry smile. “Neither are you, obviously. But we should be afraid to become as bad as the thing we’re fighting against.”
otherwise just letting Regis talk—something he could do at length and without encouragement.
“I did want to come back sooner…as soon as I realized where I was, but…I knew if I came back too soon, if I didn’t take my time, grow strong again….then the same thing would happen all over again. There would be no one to save me this time, and then I wouldn’t be able to protect you.”
“You know, I forgot how annoying you can be.” I gave her my widest grin. “Isn’t that what big brothers are for?”
“The attack on Vildorial was led by a man with golden eyes,” Arden said slowly. “Who, it appears, could walk through lightning and conjure purple flames from his hands.”
‘Ugh, spending five hours listening to these dwarves play the blame game is making me miss passing through a mana beast’s colon,’ Regis grumbled. These meetings may not be exciting, but they are important. Just…try to enjoy the view or something, I thought tiredly.
As my vision shifted and the atmospheric mana suffusing the cave appeared all around me, I decided what I would call this godrune. Realmheart.
It's back!
The Wraiths are trained asura killers. A strong squad is capable of taking down even an accomplished asuran warrior.”
“But they failed. And then, because he’s nothing if not showy, he appeared via portal in the heart of Vechor and obliterated an entire military base, killing a few hundred battle groups and several battalions of unads.”
“Even if you lived a thousand lives, not one of them would be ‘unimportant.’”
“When I saw you come back through that portal alone, all I felt was the bitterness of knowing that Tessia wasn’t with you. You were returned from the dead, while her body is left to be tugged and pulled across Alacrya like a marionette. And…I didn’t want to hate you for that.”
My words cut off as the image of Tessia’s resigned smile intruded on my thoughts. The aether blade pressed against her sternum, mossy green veins spreading over her face, her words… “Art, please…” “She’s alive,” I said instead. Virion looked up quickly and blinked his shining eyes. “Her body may be under Agrona’s control, but Tessia is alive, buried beneath the personality of a being known as the Legacy.”
“I looked into her eyes, Virion. Tess was still in there.”
“I do feel quite fortunate, you know. Not everyone gets—how many chances are we on now? Four? Five? Anyway, not everyone gets a second, second, second chance to make things right.”
And suddenly, the armor of callousness and apathy I had donned in order to survive my time in the Relictombs and Alacrya crumbled.
Tears spilled freely as I took bite after bite. Alone in this little kitchen, far away from anywhere I’d ever called home, I wept silently as I ate the first meal my mother had cooked for me in years.
I had needed Grey to survive there, and as much as I wanted to just be Arthur, living as Grey again had reminded me why I’d become him in the first place. Until this war was over, truly over, I couldn’t let Grey go. Not yet.
Something he said stuck out to me, and I couldn’t bring myself to move past it, despite other aspects of our conversation being more important. “Your advice I failed to heed…you’re talking about Tessia.”
“Give it to Arthur Leywin—Grey—on the other continent. Tell him…” He paused, and a pained look crossed his face. “Tell him he has to save her. He owes her a life.”
If you’re good at something, people will keep asking you to do it, I quipped.
I left unsaid the problem that loomed over everything else, the one I had done my best to keep to the back of my mind ever since Sylvie’s sacrifice and my appearance in the Relictombs…because I still had no idea what I could do about Cecilia and Tessia.
“All I ever wanted—even before the war, before any of this started—was the power to protect you guys,” Arthur said, his voice low and sad. I glanced up at him, but his face was hidden behind a curtain of wheat-blond hair. “I guess even now, after everything that has happened, I couldn’t,” he finished, his chin tilting up to reveal a pained smile.
“I guess I’ll have to add a warning label to the hilt that reads ‘hey idiot, don’t touch the glowing hot steel.’”
You never know how even a small kindness will stick with a person, what it might mean to them.
“And I appreciate what you’re doing. Elenoir was my home too, after all, even if only for a few years.”
“I need Arthur—Grey—to return to Alacrya soon,” Seris continued. “He is…singularly focused on the protection of his family, and I worry that now that he has finally returned home, he may not be eager to leave it again. Convince him.”
Regis, you son of a bitch, explain or— ‘Don’t speak ill of the dead, princess,’ Regis shot back.
Mom rested her head on my shoulder. “With all your many responsibilities, you may have an image to uphold to the public, but it’s just us here. No need to put up a façade in front of your family.”
I looked the olive-green owl over carefully. It was slightly larger than a normal owl, but still small enough to comfortably ride on my shoulder. “And how’s that going to work exactly?” ‘Uncomfortably. By balancing on your tippy-toes.’ Regis chortled at his own joke.
“Say hello to your creator, Regis,” I said, suppressing a chuckle. Regis blinked, inspecting Wren. The flames of his mane were still. “Daddy?”
With the Legacy.” I focused on him, goosebumps rising all over my body at the mention of the Legacy.
Don’t worry, papa. I’ll always take care of you.
Everything that made me was intrinsically, inseparably linked to him. We were one and the same. My body, my magic, my vivum arts…they could save him, but only if I gave it up for myself.
My life felt like a dream yet to happen, my death like the beginning after the end…
