CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN #2
A small, embarrassed smile appeared on his lips. “You understand, don’t you, that everything you just shared, I feel the same way about you? I would gladly give up everything I am to make your life what you desire. I would leave everything behind for you.”
“Yes, I understand,” she said. “But do you realize I’m giving you a chance to do just that? To choose between becoming the legend you’ve always dreamed of being or becoming the man you believe you can be.”
Deckard’s entire body froze. Even his breathing stopped as fear seeped from him into her hands. “I don’t want it, Evie.”
She softened her expression, understanding he needed reassurance in this decision. “Is it that you don’t want it, or that you doubt you can achieve it?”
“I don’t want it.”
“Why not?” she pressed. “After all this time—after thirty-three years of life—when it’s finally in front of you, why don’t you want it anymore?”
Deckard frowned. “Because it’s too difficult, Evylin.
Being that man, being that perfect, is too difficult.
Throughout my entire life, I have repeatedly denied myself because I believed there was a greater standard to meet.
” He shook his head, struggling to articulate his feelings.
“I have put in immense effort to be selfless, honorable, and decent for those around me. I have done everything possible to mirror Sergus, yet I have failed time and again. I failed my brother. I failed Hewitt and Auden. I’ve failed you more times than I’d like to count.
How could I possibly think I could assist my country in this way?
I do not consider myself the right man for this responsibility. I am not Sergus, and I never will be.”
Evylin knelt before Deckard on the soft bed, cupping his face in her hands. “Who do you want to be?” she asked. “If you can’t be him, then who will you become? A farmer? A soldier? A mercenary?”
“I want to go home,” he murmured, embracing her tightly. “I want to take you back to Loclight and stay there forever.”
Evylin bit her bottom lip to suppress a smile at the sweet sentiment. “And what happens when you get bored?”
“I’d never get bored. I’d have you.”
“After just one week, I’d drive you insane.” She shook her head. “That’s not you, Jonn.”
“Who am I, then?” Deckard pleaded, sincerity and hope evident in his voice, emotions she hadn’t anticipated.
Evylin smiled, gently brushing her fingertips through the waves of his hair. “You are a servant, a leader, a Mage, and my husband.” She pressed a firm, reassuring kiss to his lips. “And I won’t allow you to be anything less than that.”
Deckard lowered his eyes and turned his head away. A hush fell over them as a whirlwind of emotions swirled around him—conflict, confusion, anxiety, and a glimmer of hope. In that brief moment, it was clear he was wrestling with worries that were far too complex for an instant reply.
As she observed him grappling with his inner struggles, Evylin moved closer. Leaning in, she whispered softly into his ear, “I don’t want you to be Sergus.” She kept her voice warm and reassuring, and she felt his grip tighten around her as she continued, “I want you to be you.”
Deckard buried his head in her neck, remaining silent.
“You’re far better than Sergus anyway.”
Evylin tenderly rubbed her hand over Deckard’s back, letting him battle the storm of emotions within him.
Minutes passed by like whispers. Time seemed to stand still as he navigated his internal conflict.
But Evylin didn’t mind; she found joy in holding him close, savoring the moment as he moved toward the same feeling of freedom that she now cherished.
At first, the thought of self-sacrifice was quite daunting for her.
The idea of possibly giving up everything made her question whether she was truly making the right choice.
However, Evylin remembered that Deckard had faced the same dilemma for her.
He was ready to make such a brave sacrifice, fully aware that she would never settle for a quiet life as a housewife, tending to the home as she waited for his return.
That just wasn’t who she was. He had given her the freedom to decide, knowing full well that her heart was set on a life of adventure.
Evylin was determined to show Deckard the same understanding and support.
All those months ago in Whickam Village, Hewitt saw that Deckard was Evylin’s perfect match. “If you sacrifice the man you truly desire to become, you can’t be the man she needs.”
A man who would never settle for the mundane or the simple. A man who would opt for the difficult path because it was the right one. A man who would confront his fears of failure to serve his ruler and countrymen.
Even if, in this case, it made him that ruler.
Deckard placed his hands on Evylin’s arms and withdrew slightly. His green-blue eyes locked onto hers. He attempted to speak but initially found no words. After a deep inhale, he tried once more.
“From childhood,” he stated, his voice firm and heartfelt, “I aspired to be like Sergus. I yearned to be remembered for my excellence. I put in great effort to achieve that, Evie. I truly did.”
“And you are.”
“I’m not, “ Deckard maintained, shaking his head. “I’m a selfish failure, and I’ve disappointed countless people.”
Evylin offered him a reassuring smile. “You’re not the type to quit, Jonn.
I understand you, and I know your desire to become a legend goes beyond mere excitement.
It may have begun that way, but that’s not the essence of who you are.
Everything you are, you give to others. That isn’t selfish.
Everything you undertake, you put in your best. That isn’t failure.
To everyone you meet, you offer all that you are. You’ve never let anyone down.”
“I’m not good enough.”
“Yes, you are.”
“I will fail.”
“Maybe,” she conceded. “But you’ll never stop trying to make it right. You’ll take care of this nation better than anyone else could.”
Deckard lowered his head. “You think we should accept the position, then.”
Evylin took a deep breath, choosing her words wisely. “I believe,” she began, “you need to be certain you won’t regret turning it down.”
He pressed his lips into a thin line, remaining silent. The air was thick with disappointment as his hands went still on her.
Concerned she had put undue pressure on him, Evylin lifted his chin.
“Jonn,” she said with kindness, “it doesn’t matter to me.
No matter what you decide, I want you to be happy, and I want you to know we made the right decision.
Whatever that may be—whether leading the Loclight Order, serving in the Allundan Army, traveling to the beaches of Audis, or tilling the fields in the Shire—I will stand with you. ”
Deckard scanned her face. “No matter what?”
“No matter what.”
A deep, prolonged sigh escaped his lips, so thick and heavy that she wondered how long he might have been carrying it with him.
Deckard pressed his forehead to hers. “This . . .” he whispered, shaking his head.
A bittersweet wave of relief and pain enveloped him.
Yet, his voice emerged clear and firm. “This is who we were destined to be.
This was the future Hewitt envisioned for us.
This has always been our life: service and adventure.
“It’s who we are,” he said, straightening to smile with the light of hope in his eyes. “A Warrior and a Mage. It would be a mistake to try to be anything else.”
Evylin controlled her emotions, gripping them tightly as she sought clarity. “Are you certain? You’re not just saying this because you believe it’s what I want to hear?”
“No,” Deckard promised. “I do believe it’s what you want to hear, but I’m not saying it for that reason. It’s what I want as well.”
“Oh, thank Allore,” Evylin said, unable to contain her relief any longer.
Deckard chuckled as she threw her arms around him. “I thought you didn’t care.”
“Of course I care,” she exclaimed, pulling back to study his handsome face. “I don’t want to be a farmer’s wife. I married a captain with the intention of traveling the country, not living in a cottage and wasting my life cooking your dinners.”
“You’ve never made me dinner.”
“Pardon me, but I made your dinner the first night we met. Or at least, I made the vegetables.”
Deckard smirked playfully. “Did you? They were particularly fine vegetables.”
“Don’t mock me,” she said, draping her arms around his shoulders. “I helped prepare all the meals you enjoyed at my family’s house, and I’m an excellent cook.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
Evylin allowed her laughter to fade. “Are you sure?” she asked again.
Deckard smiled, and a wave of true contentment washed over her, confirming its authenticity. “I’m absolutely certain.”
“So we’ll accept it?”
“Yes,” he said, kissing her. “We’ll accept it.”