Epilogue
Iknew reconstruction would be painful, but it met and exceeded my expectations in terms of difficulty. Most of the nobles had perished in the months after Ovatar seized power, and the remaining citizens found me untrustworthy.
So I did what I thought correct, and ceded what remained, abolishing the crown and prying out the jewels to hand back to the people. I melted the gilt throne, and we used it for nails.
But when the chaos inevitably returned, and they had nowhere to look, they gazed upon me. Through Aelen’s guidance, I accepted a position similar to his.
Then we began redistributing lands, and the process of resetting agriculture, living off what Eltide provided in the meantime. So the I’phri began taking our people on hunting parties, and through the wood to learn how to live with the land itself.
It took almost a year to the day, but we finally thrived. The marks of what had occurred remain, and would never leave, but my people bloomed—along with their love of our new neighbors.
I traced my fingers across the dusty windowsill and took heed of the ash. The few remains of our controlled burns to wash away the weeds and underbrush that had overtaken the fields. They’d spread enough to pose a risk to the wood of Eltide, so I told them to scorch it.
Our people listened.
I hummed and smiled at that word. Our.
They didn’t have to listen. They could have ignored me, but chose to take my advice.
And for that, our crops had sprouted, and the dreadful and feared wildfire borne of the summer’s lightning storms never came.
Instead, the rains would bring a full harvest, and more life would burst forth across Eltide.
I smoothed the layers of my dress, readjusting the tulle. A few loose petals fell free, cascading to the throne room’s floor. I wasn’t fond of preparing here. After all it didn’t belong to me, it belonged to us. To the collective kingdom.
But Aelen insisted it be here. The petals of my skirts shuddered as I strode across the long hall, down the stairs, and out into the fresh air. The summer breeze tugged a few more of the enchanted flowers away, taking them somewhere into the distant towers where the shanties used to be.
I requested we not rebuild them, instead giving them the solid stone homes of the middle quarter, or had new ones built on their farms. The ones I made sure they were deeded the entirety of.
I clutched a rose so tightly the thorns bit into my flesh as I swept past the areas of crumbling wall to our monument.
War had marred the kingdom, and the scars would always remain no matter how many towers we built.
Dragon scratches gored the stone floor, and in other areas blackened blood had mixed with mortar, producing something even rain couldn't wash away.
I'd told Aelen shortly into rebuilding, I think the pain seeped into the foundation. He'd held me while I cried at the memorial.
I swept to its edge, running my fingers along the stone, a darker color than the rest of the city.
Eltide held a larger one, nearly the size of a dragon and etched with every single name, I'phri or human.
This one merely held a simple poem of remembrance, and at it's base, incense smothered the air, along with ever burning candles. More than I could count.
All laid by survivors.
This time when I approached, I didn't fall to my knees, instead laying the single rose, and shedding a single tear.
The crimson reminded me of him, but this time with less pain.
I gave a final, silent bow and dried my eyes, departing it once more. Today would be happy, but I still wished he was here to celebrate with me.
Our people, the I'phri and humans that remained would have to be enough.
The Ilyatrians that departed the city and moved across the bridge cared less about owning buildings, instead slipping freely into the I’phrian society. Despite ancient wounds, they seemed to welcome my people, and I them—though they were less inclined to cross the bridge….
The same bridge I hurried to. A familiar cry roared across the horizon, and I welcomed Mourn with a wave.
I didn’t look, but could feel the chill of his great shadow pass over me.
His silvery form slipped ahead, gliding through the clouds and dancing across them as I bolted into a full run, marveling that his ebony scales had faded into gray of decay.
The heavy oak doors at the front of the city stood permanently propped open, and I careened through them.
I let the small, new undergrowth brush my bare feet across what used to be desiccated, lifeless rock.
Aelen had worked tirelessly to choke the land with some sort of life, and after many attempts, had finally grown grass.
When he managed it, he brought me here to brag of his deeds, a smirk painted across his face—before taking me on it far from prying eyes.
They were sickly little patches but held the same bright emerald as the rest of Eltide.
In the quiet of the night, Aelen whispered that Ovatar had walked the cliffs, and his bare feet and temper had scorched it.
Nothing could survive his anguish after being thrown from the heart of Eltidian.
I often wondered how literal that was while gazing at the areas of blackened rock, and jutting shards of obsidian.
But now those meager patches of grass tickled my soles and tugged at my colorful gown.
And finally, when I strode to the middle of the bridge, I held fast and sucked in a breath.
Aelen stood in the center of the pristine alabaster, awaiting my arrival.
He looked the picture of dreams, his tall form wrapped in a tight tunic that showed everything—including what it should not.
He’d long since gotten rid of his midnight clothes and picked something brighter, dropping the usual ebony for ivory so bright I could spot it across the gorge.
A silver ribbed cloak hung from a single shoulder, and his tightly tied locks fell around the other.
Both revealed his beaming smile that radiated so brightly the very sun must have been ashamed.
He was, in all senses of the words, the most handsome man I’d ever laid eyes on. I couldn’t help but sprint to his side. He wrapped an arm around my waist and tugged me ever closer until every part of us touched.
I’phri clung to the shadows of the trees and hid beside the rocks, but I spotted them immediately, along with a few of my own. Mourn finally descended from the sky, sending rocks skittering with his wings, and landing with a resounding thud.
No I’phri fled at the sight of him, merely making room and skirting along the edges of the cliffs… but a few of mine did.
“Mourn, you’re scaring them.”
He merely replied with a cloud of steam that sent a few more scattering. His fire-red irises always looked predatory, and so did his knot-covered maw. I couldn’t blame them for being afraid. But he wouldn’t eat them—without reason.
“You look glorious,” Aelen said. “Like the dawning sun. I knew it would be gorgeous, but it looks far more beautiful on you than hanging.”
“I told them they didn’t need to make this,” I replied with a sigh.
Laughter escaped him. “Surely someone didn’t insist they create it against your wishes.”
I elbowed him and earned a laugh. But the sound radiated warmth. It eased the roiling unease that flipped through me at the reality of what we were about to do. “Are you certain you want to do this?”
His people had been quick to warn me that tying our souls together in such a way would cause one of the few deaths that could actually take an I’phri: grief.
It’s why there were so few broken pairs remaining.
Most had perished at the loss of their partner, their soul desperate chase them into the afterlife.
They couldn’t die of disease, sickness, or old age—but a broken heart would be a death knell.
And though Aelen would extend my life, it wouldn't last forever. One day I'd die, and likely take him too.
Aelen’s eyes twinkled with knowing before he spoke. “Lorelana, I’ve lived what seems an eternity. To go with you, would be peace. I’m beyond certain. Yes.”
"You're not afraid of death?"
"What is there to be afraid of? I will travel with you through all the realms. Wherever you go, so shall I." He lowered himself to my side, so close his lips brushed my ear. "I may have chained you with a pact. But you, my wonderful little bird… you have chained my heart."
I stared down at my hands, but he was quick to entwine them with his. “You’ve already sacrificed so much, I don’t want to add one more.”
“This isn’t sacrifice, it’s a new life and what I desire the most.” His teeth nicked the shell of my ear. “Don’t tell me you’re backing out now.”
My shadow stirred beneath me and then began to wrap around my calf, coiling upward. It wasn’t rough, but the show of power still sent a shudder through me. I trembled as they continued upward and enjoyed the warmth it flushed between my legs.
“Not now,” I whispered back. “Everyone’s watching.”
He ran his teeth along my jaw, tipping my chin upward. “Let them,” he growled. Yet, despite his words he still released me and let his shadows swim back to their rightful places—though I still kept a close eye on them.
He encased my hands in his, touching my scarred palm gingerly as he always did.
The flesh was still tender when prodded, and even though the skin had healed over would always carry the pebbled blemish.
That scar would burden me as long as I lived—always there when I looked down to remind me of the past. I couldn't hold a sword or even a knife, but I didn't need to anymore.
When I couldn't wield my own weapon, he'd do it for me.
His fingers unfurled like a flower. “Are you ready, then?”
I'd never not been ready, after all—I trusted him to aid me where I faltered. To guide me when I waivered and to raise me when I fell.
Despite there not being a hint of hesitation in my heart—I bit my lip, taking a second longer than I needed to nod.
I’d let him take that out on me tonight once we retired to our starry, midnight room.
"I'm ready when you are."
But something changed behind his eyes, a swimming unease. “This requires we make another promise. Are you willing?”
“What, like the pact? I thought you said it wasn't the same."
“It was never a pact. I’phri don’t deal in bargains—we aren’t monsters. It’s a rune laid upon your flesh, a mark forged from a vow. If I do something, then you will do the same. But this is the only rune all I’phri can create. The rune of fealty.”
My teeth sank further into my lip. “Will you wear one too?”
“Of course. It is a mark of us, and our loyalty to each other.”
“Then yes, it’s not even a question.”
His eyes lit up, like rays passing through a glacier.
At that, Mourn took to the skies, roaring across the horizon, but with him, many rotting silvery bodies joined, slipping along the currents.
Their chorus grew louder until it pulsed beneath our feet.
At first I thought it a celebration, but as I listened, really listened to the song reverberating through my soul, I knew those words.
"A song of the dead," I whispered.
"It's their elegy, so that in our new life, we will carry them with us. Those lost, along with the Starsingers. I have an inking a few dragons will join the gods today."
"But it's not sad. It's beautiful."
He kissed the back of my hand, the one I'd soon promise myself to him with.
"It was never meant to be sad. The dragons don't weep with sorrow when they return.
They sob with joy." He hummed a wistful, pleased sound and held up our tangled hands.
And then, he began to sing. A rune formed on my skin from his song, but they whispered in my head, and I welcomed the company.
To you, my Lorelana, I promise my soul, my loyalty, my everything
You may take every part of me and consume it all
When the Singers come for us, and claim me, you may have me then too
Entirely, wholly, always yours
The rune on my hand danced like molten sparks, unsure of where it wanted to be, but I twisted our hands and saw his was blinding and already branded into him.
Speak your heart, Lorelana.
For the first time I didn't mind him in my head. I traced along the lines to find then threads that bound us, and whispered the words not only there, but let them roll softly off my lips, mirroring my heart.
“You are everything where I find myself lacking. And when I find you need aid, there I am, always a presence and a nuisance.” I paused to let him grin.
“When I need something, anything, no matter how little or how world shatteringly huge, I know I can count on you. Always. Forever. Take my soul and never let go.”
A few tears slipped down his cheeks but he blinked them away and pretended they weren’t there. This rune wasn’t painful as it set itself into my skin, and then after a flash of blinding light, disappeared.
He ran his thumb across the featureless skin. “If you touch it, it will return.”
“If I touch it, will you return?”
He released my fingers and pulled me as close as he could. The shadows shifted and darted up my body, bringing a familiar cool sensation that raised gooseflesh. I welcome it, and him.
“Call for me, and I will always come.” His breath blew hot across my neck as he dipped me back until I was horizontal, resting solely on his arms and mercy. His lips remained a hairs breadth away. “Call for me, and you will come.”
A shiver rolled across my body but before I could give into it, he met my lips with a hungry ferocity, the dragons singing their elegy in the background. This was my eternity. Always here, and always him.
I could think of far worse futures, and thanked the stars above it would be Aelen.
I’ll follow you always, through this realm, and beyond. Always Lorelana. Always.
I couldn’t help my blinding smile or wave of tears. I let them crash over me as he tightened his grip over mine, his fingers tracing against our binding rune.
My life would never be the same; it was written in flesh.