Epilogue
ENDER
P ain is something I’m accustomed to. Always with me, creeping into every part of my life. I once thought I understood pain, but that was before my banishment to Grym Hollow. This is where I learned true suffering and that a lonely heart is the cruelest punishment of all.
My only escape from this pain is making amends and setting my wrongs right. With three successful matches, a newfound entity grows inside me. Something I haven’t felt in a long time.
Hope.
Rose was the start to all of this. She’s brave and a natural leader. No one enters a realm of dragons without fear, but Rose had no problems making Mescos her home.
Hettie came next—fierce and proud, someone hoping to fix her mistakes. I can empathize with her. Her sacrifice gave her mother and sister a better life.
And then there’s Erin—the sweetest of the three and the most selfless. There was no other pick for Allarick. It was always Erin. He would allow her the opportunity to grow and discover who she is. And that’s exactly what she did.
All three women hold valuable traits Mescos needs. Leadership. Bravery. Selflessness.
All traits she had.
The traits I once vowed to uphold, too, until temptation got too strong and I too weak.
I see her everywhere and in everything I do. A reminder of what I lost and will hopefully one day gain back. But first I have to help the other three kings.
King Oziel is a challenging one indeed. In many ways, he reminds me of myself when I was younger. There’s very little that fazes the demon and even less he cares about. He can be wicked when necessary and show mercy when there is mercy to be given. Usually. He’s not a bad king; his kingdom thrives under his rule, but his ego and temper will cost him everything.
Unless I find his perfect match.
And I think I have.
I venture farther into the city than normal, but it’s late, and many of the downtown shops are closed. A few bars remain open, but only a few patrons frequent them this late. I don’t stop walking until I come to a set of stairs.
These stairs lead up to a brick building. Inside is sterile, cold, and dated with its meager furnishings. Although no lights are on, I know people are inside. A place like this doesn’t close. Ever.
I take the stairs two at a time until I reach the entrance. The customary no weapons sign is plastered to the front, which is ironic because everyone who works here carries numerous weapons on their person at all times.
I’m hit with harsh fluorescent lights as soon as I open the door. A low buzz from the ancient vending machine and the clicking of a keyboard drown out the shouts and cries coming from the back. It reeks of bodily fluids and bleach.
I approach the counter just as the man behind the barred window does a double take when he sees me. His already pale face drains of all color, and his body fidgets uncomfortably.
“Are you…The Guardian?” he whispers as if we aren’t the only ones in the room.
“I’m here to post bail for an inmate.” I ignore his question. It’s idiotic. Who else looks like stone with their gray complexion and has horns protruding from their forehead?
“O-okay. Uh, can you tell me the name of the inmate?”
“Isabelle Sinclair.”
The man stops what he’s doing to peer over the computer at me. “Isabelle? You know what she’s in for, right?”
“I do.”
“And you still want to bail her out?”
I sigh, growing tired of this mundane conversation. “Is her bail not set?”
“It is for half a million dollars, but?—”
“Then allow me to pay and bring the girl to me.” My command leaves no room for argument. Considering the man before me looks like he’s about to piss his pants, I don’t believe that to be a problem.
I hand him the cashier’s check, and he inspects it. “I’m going to need to talk to my superiors about this. You good to wait, sir…The Guardian?”
“I have been waiting for years,” I say.
The man just furrows his brow in confusion but nods. “Right. Going to check that for you. If she can be bailed out, I’ll bring her to you. Honestly, your punishment is probably worse than what we have.” He laughs, but when I don’t join in, the man scrambles away.
I take a seat on the cheap plastic chair, crossing my right leg over my left, and place my folded-up hands in my lap.
And I wait for Isabelle Sinclair. The woman who murdered Erin’s abuser. She took care of James for me, so posting bail is the least I can do.
Yes, Oziel will meet his match with this one.
To be continued…