Epilogue
Durom
My mate was flourishing.
She had shed the stiffness that she carried when we first met, no longer scanning every corner if expecting a strike.
No more subtle shifts of weight toward exits.
No more cataloging of shadows and sightlines before she allowed herself to sit.
Now she strode across the wide slabs of the castle, book tucked under her arm, bare feet whispering silently against the dark stone as if the place had been measured and designed to absorb the sound of her stride.
She had taken over the multi-purpose room, ignoring the stage in the corner and carving out a permanent shielding rune into the floor so that she could practice more dangerous spells without damaging the castle.
I would often find her there, or in the library, following wherever her interest led her.
Sometimes she came out into the labyrinth with me, but more often than not, she liked to remain behind the walls.
Unless I headed into the city, she came along on every one of those trips, made much faster by taking a direct route.
There was a passage from the castle straight out of the labyrinth, hidden and impossible for the roaming groups to find, making it convenient for us to move to and from.
There were no quick paths through the labyrinth itself, so my journeys there took more time than our trips to the city.
There were other mundanes in the city, and a few of them came back with us like strays, to the point where she had a magical study group she liked to call her coven.
I would pass by the archway to the multipurpose room to see them in there, working on more complex spells.
Sometimes wind tore through the circle and slammed into the invisible barrier, tussling her short hair and bringing a smile to her face that never failed to cause me to pause and admire her, desire growing at the image of her happiness.
We had grown together as mates, both in passion and communication.
Life was good.