Chapter 25 #2
They stand there for a long moment, gold light washing over them, while the rest of us watch from the cavern. Aspen and Torric exchange a look — they understand this. The weight of discovering something about yourself you never knew. The way it cracks you open.
Eventually, Kieran nods. Once. Small.
Kaia squeezes his arm and steps back, giving him space to breathe.
“Okay,” I say, because someone has to move us forward. “So that’s… dragons. Cool. Terrifying. Very on-brand for Kieran.”
Torric snorts. Aspen almost smiles.
Malrik is already moving.
He walks toward one of the remaining dark tunnels — not drifting like Kieran, not pulled. Walking with purpose. Like he knows what he’ll find and he’s dreading it.
“Malrik?” I call.
He doesn’t stop.
I follow. I don’t know why. Maybe because everyone else is still processing Kieran’s moment. Maybe because Malrik shouldn’t have to face whatever this is alone. Maybe because I’m nosy.
Probably that last one.
The tunnel blazes to life the moment Malrik approaches. Deep blue light pulses through the passage. Royal sigils. Swords held upright. A coronation scene carved in excruciating detail — a crown being placed on a bowed head, subjects kneeling, a kingdom being born.
And standing beside the throne, hand resting on the shoulder of the newly crowned king — a Valkyrie. Wings folded. Eyes watchful. Blessing the line.
Malrik stops at the entrance. His expression goes carefully blank.
“The royal line,” he says quietly. His voice is flat. Controlled. The voice he uses when he’s feeling too much and refuses to show it.
I step up beside him. “Heavy.”
“You have no idea.”
He traces one of the sigils with his finger. The carving glows brighter, humming softly.
“These are the founding sigils,” he says. “The ones in the palace are copies. Poor ones. This…” He shakes his head. “This predates everything. The monarchy. Absentia as we know it. All of it.”
His eyes linger on the Valkyrie beside the throne.
“The royal line didn’t just rule,” he murmurs. “They ruled because she chose them. The Valkyrie legitimized the crown.”
I don’t know what to say to that. So I just stand there. Present. The way Kaia was there for Kieran.
Malrik glances at me. Something flickers in his expression — surprise, maybe. Gratitude.
“Thank you,” he says quietly.
“For what?”
“For not making a joke.”
“Give me a minute. I’m working on one.”
His mouth twitches. Almost a smile.
I kiss him before I can talk myself out of it.
It’s brief — barely more than a brush, my hand catching his jaw for half a second before I pull back. Impulsive. Stupid. Completely worth it.
Malrik blinks. Once. Twice. His expression doesn’t change, but something in his eyes does.
“That wasn’t a joke,” he says quietly.
“No,” I manage. “It wasn’t.”
We stand there for a beat too long, the Royal Hall glowing blue around us, and I have no idea what my face is doing but it’s probably embarrassing.
And then I notice Darian.
He’s standing at the edge of the cavern, but he’s not where I left him. He’s closer now. Closer to the Royal Hall. Like something dragged him forward against his will.
His magic twitches at his fingertips — dark, uneasy. His whole body is tense, vibrating with something that looks a lot like fear.
He takes a step toward the hall. Stops. Takes another half-step. Stops again.
His eyes are fixed on the sigils. On the coronation scene. On the Valkyrie blessing the king.
On whatever truth is carved into those walls.
And then he turns away. Deliberately. Forcefully. Like it takes everything he has.
He retreats to the far side of the cavern, arms wrapped around himself, shoulders hunched.
I don’t understand it. But I clock it.
File that away for later. Probably important.
Kaia drifts toward one of the remaining dark tunnels.
She doesn’t seem to realize she’s doing it. Her shadows are guiding her — swirling around her ankles, nudging her forward, pulling her toward the passage like they know something she doesn’t.
Bob takes point, posture rigid. Walter floats alongside her, pulsing with that strange starlight.
Are there more Eds than before?
The moment she crosses the threshold, silver light explodes through the passage.
Winged figures. Valkyries carved in ice-lines, fierce and beautiful and ancient.
The carvings tell a story.
On the left wall — their rise. Valkyries in their glory, wings spread wide, shadows swirling at their feet. Leading armies. Blessing kings. Riding dragons. Standing at the center of everything, the axis around which the world turned.
On the right wall — their fall. A figure standing over them. Their homes crumbling. Wings broken. Shadows scattered. One by one, the Valkyries disappearing, until only emptiness remains.
And at the far end, where both walls meet—
A single figure. Standing alone. Wings folded. Shadows gathering at her feet.
The last one.
A massive statue dominates the center of the hall — a woman with her hand outstretched, wings spread wide, eyes soft but powerful. Waiting.
Kaia stops. Her breath catches.
“Oh,” she whispers. Just that. Just oh.
The rest of us gather at the entrance, drawn by the light, by the gravity of the moment. Even Darian edges closer, though he keeps his distance.
Kaia walks toward the statue like she’s in a trance. The shadows follow, clustering at her feet, climbing the walls, filling the hall with living darkness that somehow doesn’t feel dark at all.
She stops in front of the statue and looks up at its face.
“She looks like you,” I say before I can stop myself.
Kaia doesn’t answer. She just reaches up and touches the statue’s outstretched hand.
The entire cavern responds.
Every tunnel brightens for a heartbeat — all of them, all at once.
This cannot be good. Right?
Like Japti itself is acknowledging something. Acknowledging her.
The shadows curl around Kaia’s feet more content than I’ve ever seen them.
“It can’t be.” Kaia whispers.
Malrik’s voice is soft. Reverent. “Kaia, you don’t have to be anything but who you are. This doesn’t change anything.”
We stand there in silence, watching the light pulse and fade, watching the shadows settle, watching Kaia at the center of something none of us fully understand.
Aspen moves first. He steps into the Valkyrie hall and stands beside Kaia. Doesn’t say anything. Just… present.
Torric follows. Then Kieran. Then Malrik.
They form a loose circle around her. Protective. Supportive. A family that chose each other.
Even Darian edges closer, though he stays at the threshold. Watching. Wanting. Afraid.
And me?
I’m still standing in the cavern. Looking at the one tunnel that’s still dark.
The symbols flare.
What the… Did anyone else see that?
I blink, but they’re still there. Flaring violently — blazing to life like they’ve been waiting centuries for me to show up and finally something interesting is happening.
Pink and white and crackling, pulsing wild and untamed.
A low hum builds in the air, vibrating through the wood beneath my feet.
Everyone turns.
“What the—” Torric starts.
I stumble back a step. “Okay… nope. Nope. That feels illegal.”
Kaia exhales softly — not quite a laugh, but close. She’s already moving toward me, shadows trailing behind her.
One of the Eds drifts closer to the tunnel, curious, then immediately retreats like it got zapped. Fair enough, little guy.
The violent flare settles into something steady, rhythmic, matching my heartbeat exactly. Which is creepy as hell, by the way.
But I can’t look away.
The group circles me instinctively. Kaia reaches me first, standing close enough that I can feel the warmth of her. Aspen and Torric flank her. Malrik hangs back, observing. Kieran watches with something like understanding in his eyes.
Darian stays at the edge. Watching from a distance.
“Finn?” Kaia says softly.
I don’t answer. I’m already moving.
The air crackles as I step into the tunnel. My magic surges in response, rising to meet whatever the hell is calling to it.
The carvings are different from the others.
Where Malrik’s hall is ordered and regal, mine is… chaos. Literally. Swirling patterns that never repeat, symbols that seem to shift when I blink, energy captured in wood that feels like it’s about to burst free at any moment.
And at the center of it all — a Valkyrie.
She stands in the eye of the storm, chaos swirling around her but never touching her. Not controlling it. Not fighting it. Wielding it. Like chaos was always meant to be hers.
It should be weird.
It’s not.
For the first time in my life, my magic doesn’t feel like a glitch in the system. It feels like a key.
I reach out before I can talk myself out of it, and the wall reaches back. The wood is warm under my fingers, thrumming with power that echoes the chaos in my blood. The carvings pulse brighter, welcoming, and something in my chest does something uncomfortable.
Because the thing I’ve never talked about? I’ve never belonged anywhere.
Not really. Not completely. I’ve always been too much — too loud, too chaotic, too likely to accidentally set something on fire or say the wrong thing or make a joke when everyone else is being serious.
Even with Kaia, even with the others, there’s always been a part of me that wondered if I was really wanted or just…
tolerated. The comic relief. The one they keep around because someone has to lighten the mood.
But this place…
This place was waiting for me. Specifically me. Chaos and all.
“Finn?”
I blink, and Kaia is there. Right beside me, inside my hall, her shadows curling around both of us.
She doesn’t ask if I’m okay. She just stands near me, close enough that I can feel the warmth of her, and lets me have this moment. It’s annoying. And also the reason I’m probably in love with her, but we’re not thinking about that right now.
“You feel it too,” I say quietly. “Don’t you?”
She nods.
Behind her, the others have gathered at the entrance to my hall. Aspen and Torric, shoulder to shoulder. Kieran, raw but steady. Malrik, watching with that quiet intensity.
They’re all here. For me.
Something cracks in my chest. Something I’ve been holding together for a very long time.
Kaia turns to face me fully. Her violet eyes are soft, steady, certain.
“I see you, Finn,” she says quietly. “I always have.” She pauses, something flickering across her face — regret, maybe. Recognition. “Even when I didn’t know it.”
She holds out her hand.
I stare at it. At her. At the offer sitting there between us like it’s the simplest thing in the world.
It’s not. It’s everything.
My brain cycles through a dozen deflections — a joke, a shrug, a thanks but I’m fine that would let me keep my walls exactly where they’ve always been.
But my hand is already moving.
Her fingers close around mine. Warm. Real. Hers.
We walk back to the center of the cavern together. Hand in hand. And I don’t let go.
The others fall in around us — Aspen and Torric, Kieran, Malrik. Even Darian edges closer, though he keeps his distance.
“This place isn’t just safe,” I say slowly.
Everyone looks at me.
I meet Kaia’s eyes. Then Malrik’s. Then each of them in turn.
“It knows us,” I say.
The motes swirl overhead, brightening in response.
A soft wind stirs Kaia’s hair.
Shadows curl at her feet.
And I finish, quiet but certain:
“All of us.”