Chapter 57
Altair
Iyana was fretting over him. In any other situation, Altair would have marveled at the sight of his astalle worrying over his well-being.
But since he was dying, he couldn’t afford to take the time to sit back and let her fret. He could feel her pushing her healing magic into him, but from experience, he knew it wouldn’t make a difference.
“Astalle,” he rasped, stilling her hand and holding it to his chest. “Stop.”
The warmth of his own blood flowed over their hands, and he wished he could spare her this.
Altair glanced down as much as he could to see what he already knew would be there.
The wound on his chest spanned from his right shoulder down to the bottom of his left ribcage.
It wasn’t healing, and that was all because of the shadows that had infiltrated his body.
Black lines were spreading away from the gash, proof of the poison that flowed through his blood.
That was the danger with Rigil. When he chose to use his shadow sword, he didn’t need to hit a vital organ for the strike to be fatal.
He could advance his shadows into the blood, leaving them there to finish the job.
It’s what allowed him to climb his way to the top of the four constellations.
The others realized the threat that he posed and were unwilling to go against him.
“I can fix this,” Iyana sobbed. Her tears were hot where they fell on his skin.
“You can’t.”
“I have to,” she whispered.
“It’s okay, my star.” Altair lifted a shaking hand to wipe the drops from her face, hating the streak of bright red blood he left behind. “If I gave my life to save yours, then it was worth it. Everything was worth it.”
Iyana was shaking her head emphatically. She was still trying to heal his wound, and he could feel her becoming more frantic and frustrated when it wouldn’t close, and those black lines only continued to spread.
“There are so many things I regret,” Altair forced out.
It was getting harder to breathe. Harder to say the words he needed her to hear.
“If I could go back, there are so many things I would change. I never wanted to hurt you.” He took in a shuddering breath that didn’t fill his lungs.
“I should have loved you better. But I am so grateful for the time we did have together, and I’m sorry for all the pain I’ve caused you. ”
Looking around, he caught Sullane’s eye. “Keep her safe.” The curt nod only confirmed Altair’s fears that there was no coming back from this. The others understood it as well. He could see it in all of their faces. The only one who couldn’t accept it was Iyana.
Altair found his brother. Okab was kneeling next to him, unshed tears swimming in his eyes.
Golden eyes that matched Altair’s own. They were supposed to be together always.
They’d entered the world together, and Altair had always assumed they’d leave together.
But he was suddenly glad that it was him and not his twin.
Okab had always been the best of them—of all the stars.
He deserved to live. He deserved to thrive.
But Altair knew that if his twin succeeded in his mission, then he and their sister would be stuck orbiting in the sky again. Altair hated that was to be their fate.
“I’m sorry,” he told his brother, his voice barely a rasp.
“I know,” Okab said. There was a lifetime of apologies in Altair’s two words, and he was grateful his twin could hear all of them. He no longer had enough air to say everything he wanted to.
With a large amount of difficulty, Altair reached into his pocket and withdrew the ouroboros necklace he had been carrying around as penance ever since he’d ripped it off of Iyana’s neck.
All he wanted now was for her to be safe.
Even if it meant he died. Even if it meant she loved another.
Altair only wanted her to be safe and happy.
It took so much more effort than he was used to, but Altair drew all of his magic towards his heart. He let it circle that faltering organ and imbued it with all of his love and regrets and hope for Iyana before directing it down his arm and into the necklace.
As his magic left his body, he felt empty. A husk of his former glory. Altair supposed it was fitting.
With the last of his strength, he put the necklace into Iyana’s palm, closing her fingers around it. He could do this one last thing for her. One final act to protect her in the coming war that he would no longer be there for.
Iyana was still trying to talk to him. He thought she was telling him no, that he couldn’t go. Altair may have been hallucinating, though, because it looked like she said she needed him. His hearing had left him, so he’d never know if that was the truth.
I love you. He mouthed the words to her one last time, needing her to know how much he actually meant it.
The last thing Altair saw before the darkness took him was Iyana’s beautiful face, her dark hair falling around him like a curtain, shielding them from the outside world for one final, private moment.
And Altair found his life had meaning, after all. So when he heard a dark voice in his head say, welcome home, my son, Altair walked into Phaedros’ embrace without a backwards glance.