38. Caspian
Caspian
The burning has stopped. The embers are quiet.
Locked away where they should be.
The voices have stopped curling around my thoughts. There’s only silence. Cold, aching silence.
And in that silence, I remember everything.
The destruction of Winter. Taking over the minds of Farron and Dayton. Battling Keldarion on the mountainside. Recruiting all manner of filth to my mother’s side. All the soldiers in Autumn speared by my briars. Rosalina as my thrall and then my lover.
The leash. The collar. The way Kel’s voice broke when he said he loved me.
Rosalina’s scream as the whip struck her down.
She’s not moving.
Rosalina lies on the obsidian floor, her back torn and blackened. The scents of scorched silk and blood twist in the air. Her hands twitch once, then go still.
I can’t breathe.
Kel’s chained. Kneeling. The collar has bruised his throat purple. His arms are bound.
He’s looking at her like he might shatter.
And I finally see.
I did this.
The weight of my actions hits me all at once, as if the mountain above Cryptgarden has fallen on top of me. Every word I twisted. Every command. Every time I looked away when my loved ones screamed, when they begged, when they pleaded that they still cared for me.
I fall hard to my knees. “Rosalina…” My voice cracks.
Her eyes barely flick to me, and she forces herself up with shaking arms. “Just a little clumsy,” she breathes.
That undoes me.
The Green Flame seethes, reaching for my heart in a final hiss of defiance. Clawing at me, hungry, waiting to coil around my spine and make me forget again. Let me become fire and fury and nothing at all.
But I won’t allow it.
Not now.
Not when I’ve already lost almost everything. Was that enough for me to break through?
I grit my teeth and reach inward, past the pain, past the rot. I find the cage I once built for the flame and slam the door shut, locking it with will alone. My body screams.
Smoke curls from my fingertips.
I rise slowly. The pain is unbearable. My hands are shaking. My knees threaten to buckle.
But I stand.
The courtyard is silent.
Dozens of eyes gaze at us. They’re wondering what happened. I bare my teeth. I can’t lose myself, can’t let myself break yet. There’s still a game to play.
“Get. Out.”
No one moves.
So I raise my hand.
The shadows rise around me like wings, vast and furious. The green fire may be gone, but darkness always obeys. “I said leave!”
My voice shakes the walls, and the crowd scatters. They don’t walk—they flee. Even the boldest of them cower. Good.
They should.
When the courtyard is empty, I collapse to my knees between them. Kel breathes shallowly, still chained, still collared. Rosie is limp, pain written in every line of her face.
I want to tell them I’m sorry, but I can’t make myself say the words. It’s not enough. It will never be enough.
So I raise my hand, and the thorns snake from the floor in silence. Gentle this time.
They lift Kel. They lift Rosie. They cradle them like something sacred.
And I carry us away.