Epilogue A Family Beyond
Rosint did not often venture into the mortal kingdoms these days. He was the only god remaining in Elysium, and there was simply too much work to do for frivolous travel.
He reasoned: this was not frivolous.
This was his brother.
Elys in his new, elven form looked exactly as he had in the heavenly realm. Petite and pale with the most stunning spun-gold hair. And his laugh—his laugh sounded exactly the same. The name was fitting. Aria. His voice was exactly that.
Rosint stood upon the dingy, floating upon the river that passed outside of their yard.
Their yard, yes. Because while he may have come down to spy on Elys, Sumas lived there too.
Of course. They’d been sickeningly in love before.
It was only natural they’d find their way back to one another after being reborn.
Sumas didn’t look exactly the same. This human form was bigger, in fact. Mixed with the blood of giants. But his grin? Rosint would know that smile anywhere. In any lifetime.
They sat enjoying a picnic in their backyard, overlooking the river’s edge.
Sumas fed Elys a grape. Elys kissed him as thanks.
A kiss that turned, all too quickly, into more.
The two of them were like that in Elysium, too.
One sideways glance and they’d be humping one another on the furniture while the rest of the gods groaned for them to do that somewhere private, please.
This was private, Rosint acquiesced. This was their home.
“Noble, you mustn’t,” said Elys, and he laughed as he was tickled, writhing beneath Sumas’s fingers, nearly rolling off the blanket they’d placed on the grass.
“This is your doing, Aria, my love,” said Sumas. “Why else would you wear such a robe in my presence? Do you deny it? Deny me?”
Elys laughed again and pulled Sumas into another kiss. He uttered, “I will never deny you,” into their embrace.
Elys and Sumas reborn. They didn’t even know their own power—great enough to move mountains, to start wars, to end an era of peace. And that was the point. This way, the pair could live together, happily ever after.
Lovers kissing on the riverbank, smiling and whispering the sweet promises they’d keep.
They’d earned such peace. Rosint lowered his oar into the river. He had to return home, to dote upon the souls of the dead, so that they too may, one day, have a happily ever after.