Epilogue
The bright summer sun beat down on the island of Canjir, driving even the most seasoned islanders indoors to seek relief from the unrelenting heat.
The creeks and rivers cut into the landscape by the old volcano ran low, their banks dry and crumbling.
Soon enough, the summer rains would come and bring the island back to life, but right now, all they could do was wait it out.
Eiri would love nothing more than to be inside the small house he shared with Syrus, napping through the worst heat of the day or perhaps passing the time in more pleasurable ways.
When they’d first arrived, they’d spent several weeks living with his mother and sister.
While he’d enjoyed reconnecting with them and letting them get to know Syrus, it didn’t take long before they were ready to go out on their own.
They’d lucked into the home they were in now.
The previous resident, an older man named Botan, had moved in with his son and daughter-in-law to help care for their children, leaving his house vacant.
Situated on the edge of Maizar, it sat far enough from the docks to allow peace and quiet while being close enough to the water for Eiri to recharge his magic easily.
After speaking with Botan, he’d given them the house in exchange for help to fix his son’s fishing skiff.
Eiri had also gone on a few fishing trips with Botan’s son, using his water magic to create eddies in the tide and direct more fish into the nets.
It’d taken Eiri awhile to convince Syrus that they weren’t swindling the man.
Canjir had a currency, of course, but it didn’t rule their lives like it did people on the mainland.
Here on the island, after the volcano decimated their home, the Canjiri had learned to rely on each other.
Bartering and trading were far more common than money changing hands.
By helping Botan’s son, they’d ensured his livelihood and he could continue to provide for himself and his family.
In exchange, they received a home for them to start a life.
Eiri wasn’t entirely sure Syrus believed him, but the more time he spent on the island, the more he’d understand how things went around here.
He and Syrus had been living in the house for two months now and were slowly making it their own.
They were still collecting furniture, whether trading for bigger pieces or building smaller items themselves, but it was coming together.
Their bed was his favorite piece, and not just because of the long hours they’d spent twined around each other there.
The solid piece was fashioned in the style of Vaetrean beds, raised up off the ground, with a thick mattress to lie on.
The artist had carved delicate Canjiri flowers and waves into the wood, curling around the frame and down to the footboard.
His mother gifted it to them the day they moved out of her home, shocking both of them.
Like most everyone on the island, she’d been wary of Syrus at first, but warmed up to him as she got to know him.
When he’d attempted to thank her for the shockingly lavish gift, she’d simply said she’d noted Syrus struggling to get used to the Canjiri beds, which were very close to the ground.
Years of military service had left their mark on Syrus’ body, leaving a stiffness in his joints, especially in the morning.
The effects of the poison lingered, as well, leaving him coughing if he tried to exert himself too much.
He hid it well, so the fact that she’d noticed at all was what surprised Eiri.
He loved to lounge in that bed with Syrus on the rare morning neither of them had somewhere to be and he’d hoped to spend the afternoon with him, but there was one big problem with his plan: Syrus was nowhere to be found.
While the adults of Maizar were wary of Syrus, the children had responded to him with blatant curiosity.
Most of them had never met anyone from the mainland before, let alone a prince.
After the initial concern wore off, they’d flocked to him like minnows, peppering him with questions and following him around wherever he went.
When he relented to their endless begging and showed them a few basic self-defense moves, he’d instantly become the most popular man in the city.
Potentially on the whole island, at least according to the children.
Now Eiri could usually find him at the schoolhouse during the day, passing along his expansive court education to their eager minds. By unspoken agreement, he didn’t teach them the history he knew, which skewed heavily toward Vaetreas.
When Eiri poked his head into the small school, though, he didn’t spot Syrus anywhere.
The woman currently teaching the children raised an eyebrow when she saw him, an expression he was all too familiar with.
She’d been here when he was a child and that gesture always meant he was about to get in trouble, usually for not paying attention.
Wincing in apology, he ducked back out, pausing just outside the door and looking around in confusion.
Maizar was large enough to be called a true city, but just barely, and it was tiny compared to Lodie. There were only a few places Syrus could be, and he’d already ruled out half of them.
A sultry breeze blew past as he considered his options, bringing with it the soft murmur of voices. He recognized the deep timbre of Syrus immediately and turned to follow it, going down the steps of the schoolhouse and around the side, toward the back of the building.
A rudimentary play area for the children took up the land back here and it had always been his favorite part of going to school.
Old wood from decommissioned ships formed climbing areas and swings to play on.
The old sails stretched across wood frames to create a shaded space for when the heat became too oppressive, but he’d always ignored them, preferring to climb and run and lead the other kids in whatever games crossed his mind.
He found Syrus sitting in one of those shelters near the school, cross-legged on the ground, with a small child sitting in his lap.
Eiri recognized him as one of the little boys who followed Syrus around, but couldn’t place his name.
He couldn’t be older than six or seven years old, and right now he looked younger.
Tears streaked his face and he clutched at his knee.
Concerned, Eiri hurried over to join them, kneeling in the dirt beside the little boy.
“Eiri.” Syrus smiled, warming him to the core of his being.
“Hi. Is everything alright here?” He smiled in return, then looked down at the little boy. On closer inspection, his knee looked faintly bloody, like he’d taken a fall and scraped it up. Not badly enough for the big tears on his cheeks, but it likely stung a bit.
“Minato here fell and hurt his knee. We were trying to patch it up before heading inside,” Syrus explained. “I think he’s fine now, right, Minato?”
In response, the boy started crying again, but no more tears fell, and Eiri had to bite back another smile. The injury was real enough, but the boy was clearly taking advantage of it, probably trying to avoid going back in to school. Eiri could relate.
“Hey, Minato,” he said, settling down more comfortably on the ground beside them. “Do you know who I am?”
The little boy blinked, peering at him, and his fake cries immediately stopped, replaced by an excited grin. “Uh huh! You’re a raider!”
“I was a raider. We don’t do that anymore,” Eiri reminded him. “But do you know what else I am?”
Minato shook his head, turning in Syrus’ lap to face Eiri. Clearly, Syrus was still the more interesting of the two of them, and the little boy wasn’t going to give up his solo time with Syrus until he was good and ready.
“I’m also a mage.” Eiri whispered it like he was imparting a big secret, leaning in closer. The adults on the island all knew, of course. Mages were rare among their people, though, so Minato had likely never met another one before. He hoped that was the case, anyway.
The boy’s eyes went wide as saucers, his injury completely forgotten. “You can do magic?”
“I can. Do you want to see?”
“Yes!”
Syrus chuckled, smiling at Eiri over the boy’s shoulder when he realized what Eiri was doing.
Eiri gave him a quick wink, then held up his hands over Minato’s knee.
He’d been practicing using his magic since they’d returned, even reluctantly reading old tomes in the city’s library.
Someday, he hoped to use his magic to help his people more effectively.
He’d never found any record of another mage with water abilities, though, so he’d mostly been making it up as he went, experimenting to see what worked.
Reaching out with his magic, he pulled at the ambient water in the air, concentrating it into a ball in front of him. The tiny globe grew larger as he fed more water into it until it was a little larger than his fist.
“Alright, you have to hold still for this part,” he said, looking up to find Minato staring at him with wonder in his dark eyes.
“Are you going to make it all better?” he whispered reverently.
“I can’t make it completely better, but this will help.”
When Minato nodded eagerly, he moved the ball of water, focusing his power and using the water to rinse the boy’s knee.
He couldn’t heal the scrape, but he could at least make sure no dirt remained.
It only took a few seconds, then he pulled his magic back, allowing the water to dissipate back into the air.
“Wow…” Minato stared down at his knee in awe. With the dirt and blood gone, the scrape was barely visible. To a little kid, it probably looked like Eiri really had healed him.
“We should probably get you back to school before Nazra comes looking for you,” Syrus said, easily hoisting Minato back to his feet.