CHAPTER THIRTEEN #4
Evylin was weightless and eternal, lost in the beauty of this forging.
A sound emerged from the darkness, familiar yet not quite recognizable. Steady, warm, and full but detached. It called to her, but she couldn’t answer. The call wasn’t right—too rigid and coarse to summon her soul into waking.
The void surrounded her in its emptiness, allowing her to rest in its hush. Eternity passed, gentle and serene. She floated unfeelingly in the vacancy around her. The overwhelming power was now subdued. Her body no longer swelled with furor but relaxed with absolute serenity.
A new sound arose, akin to the previous one, pulsing with the same tone and resonance but infused with an intrinsic difference.
This sound . . .
It pulled at her core, still steady, warm, and full but also more refined, poignant, and earnest.
This sound belonged to her. A voice as common to her as her own. And she couldn’t help but heed its call.
Evylin gasped awake, eyes wide as they stared into Deckard’s. His hand was on her neck, thumb brushing her jaw as he continued to grasp her wrist with the other. A look of pure astonishment and eager joy filled his face as he smiled down at her.
The shock of seeing his eyes returned to nearly full blue once more roused Evylin from her stupor.
A thrill bubbled up inside of her, escaping in a laugh.
It was different now between them. She could feel it in her core.
The same respect, adoration, and devotion remained, but an increased attachment had formed itself, permeating deep within her.
This was what it felt like to be Bonded: a total connection, a complete sense of belonging, and a full understanding of how much she loved the man before her and how much he loved her.
Evylin wanted to express this sentiment, to tell him how happy it made her.
But she couldn’t find her voice. So she pulled her hand from his—the muscles aching in protest at the sudden movement—and wrapped her arms around his neck.
She would have kissed him, but it felt too brazen for the moment, too carnal for the magnitude of what they’d experienced, of what they’d become.
Instead, she closed her eyes and leaned into him, basking in his nearness as he enfolded her in his embrace.
Slowly, reality came back to Evylin and Deckard. The crackling fire rumbled heartily, and its smoke filled the room with a comforting reminder of the mundane. The world had remained the same while they dissolved and came together as a new creation.
Deckard kissed Evylin’s temple in a tender, cherishing touch.
His fingers traced circles on her back before gliding up to settle on her arm as if telling her it was time—time to let go and face corporeality again.
They’d experienced something of pure bliss and profound change, but the rest of life moved on unaware of the monumental moment that had just occurred.
Regretfully, Evylin drew back, but Deckard’s smile was filled with such joy and contentment that she found she didn’t mind the temporary break from his touch.
“One final thing,” Ilain broke the silence reverently, “and then we’re done, I promise. Your talismans await.”
Deckard took a single step back, his hands drifting down her arms before pulling away completely. They turned to see Ethenn and Brea standing near, holding the silver and gold boxes out to them. On the velvet cushions lay the talismans the Mages had made for them.
Evylin reached out, taking the dagger from the silver and black box.
Its golden handle fit perfectly in her palm, and the pommel contained a black and white moonstone.
The narrow and deathly sharp silver blade was fitted into a sheath of gold and silver scrollwork.
The dagger was small but ideal for concealing.
Smiling, Evylin turned to see Deckard’s talisman. Between his fingers, he held a ring—a band of silver with a gold setting around the dual-colored moonstone. Simple but elegant, like the man himself.
Deckard looked up at Ilain, brow raised. “She gets a knife, and I get jewelry?” he asked good-naturedly.
Ilain grinned dryly, tipping her shoulder up in a shrug. “She’s a Warrior, and you’re a Mage,” she said. “You get what you get.”
Deckard chuckled as he placed the ring on his right hand.
With a lift of her chin, Ilain regarded them both like a proud mother. “Let it be known, Jonn and Evylin Deckard are officially and eternally Bonded, an embodiment of our Creator Divine, Allore, and his vast might.”
Suddenly, Ilain, Brea, the archminister, and the remaining Mages bent their knees, bowing their heads. “It is our honor to be your friends and allies,” they said in unison. “You have our vow to serve with you and for you until our last breaths.”
At this pledge of fealty, Evylin gaped, and Deckard tensed.
Ilain looked up at them, her verdant gaze glimmering with excitement. “Now, my Highlord Chancellor and Highlady Commander, you are Bonded in the sight of Allore and the Alliance. May you live long and reign justly.”