Chapter 32 #2
Xander hesitated, then reached out, his thumb brushing gently over her knuckles. Warmth stirred at the touch. There again, no matter how hard she tried to ignore it, push it down. It was unmistakable and unexplainable all at once.
“I could help you remember them,” he said softly, a small smile curving his lips. “If you want.”
Her throat tightened.
“It wouldn’t hurt,” he added quickly. “Not like unravelling the King’s mark.”
For a heartbeat, Ellaryn was speechless.
“You can do that?” she managed, the words breaking through the tremor in her voice.
“I can strengthen old memories,” he said gently. “Draw them forward.”
Ellaryn nodded, fidgeting with her fingers as if to anchor herself.
She didn’t know if she was ready to see them again, or if she wanted to see them happy. Because then she would be forced to think about what they would think of her. The person—if you could even call her that—she had become.
But time was slipping through her fingers. If she and Xander succeeded, when the King took his last breath, so would she.
And she wanted to remember them before then.
“Okay,” she breathed.
Xander exhaled too, relief flickering across his face.
This time, his fingers settled at her temples—careful, reverent, so light she felt herself lean instinctively into his touch. He closed his eyes slowly, as though in prayer.
After a moment, Ellaryn did the same, surrendering to the quiet between them.
But then he pulled his fingers away.
“Why did you stop?” She asked, confusion painted on her brow.
“There’s something there.” He looked as confused as she did, which frightened her.
“What do you mean?” She breathed.
“A block on your memories… only on certain ones.” He placed his hands on her temples again.
“A block? Like… magic?” she asked, her voice quiet, almost hesitant, as her brain tried to pick his words apart. Xander nodded, the regret in his eyes unmistakable.
“There’s something someone doesn’t want you to remember?” he pressed gently.
Ellaryn blinked, straining to search her mind.
If her memory was altered, it would have to be the King’s doing.
Right?
She hadn’t recalled him taking anything—though why would she?
“It’s… it’s okay,” she said finally, voice small, defeated. “I don’t need to remember them.” The words hit Xander harder than he expected.
“Wait,” he said, his tone firm but careful. “Let me try again. Maybe they just need a little push.”
Ellaryn let her eyelids drop; this time, she could feel something almost immediately.
A strange sensation. At first, there was only darkness.
Then there was heat. It wasn’t too hot; it was slow, careful, like sunlight filtering through closed curtains.
Ellaryn’s breath caught.
She felt small. Lighter. Grass pressed cool and soft beneath her palms, the scent of earth and summer lingering in the air. Laughter drifted somewhere nearby—unfamiliar, yet achingly close.
Her chest ached.
“There,” Xander murmured, the word barely more than a breath. “You were hard to find.” He spoke softly, as if to himself—like he was addressing something buried deep within her. “These ones haven’t been tampered with.”
Ellaryn felt her shoulders tense.
“Don’t chase them,” he said gently. “Just let them come.”
At his reassurance, the tightness in her muscles began to ease.
Laughter sharpened, resolved into something clearer. A boy’s voice—teasing, bright.
Eden.
She knew it without seeing him.
Her vision shifted.
A woman knelt in front of her, brushing dirt from Ellaryn’s knees with gentle hands. Dark hair caught the light as she smiled—warm, real, alive. There were lines at the corners of her eyes from smiling too often.
Her mother.
Ellaryn’s lips parted, a soundless sob trembling free.
Xander’s touch stayed steady at her temples, grounding her. “You’re safe,” he whispered. “You’re doing perfectly.”
Another figure appeared—taller, broad-shouldered, familiar in a way that made a lump form in her throat. A man laughing as he lifted Eden onto his shoulders, the sound rich and unburdened.
It was her father.
Tears slipped silently from beneath Ellaryn’s lashes, but this time they didn’t burn. They felt… warm.
“They’re smiling,” she whispered, her voice breaking, salt dancing on her taste buds as tears rolled onto them.
Xander nodded, though his eyes were still closed. “Because they loved you.”
The memory lingered—sunlight, laughter, the feeling of being held without fear. For the first time in longer than she could remember, the past didn’t hurt.
It welcomed her.
And when the image finally began to fade, Xander’s voice followed her back gently, like a hand guiding her home.
Ellaryn opened her eyes.
She was crying—but she was smiling too.
When her eyes finally lifted to his. They were close—closer than she realised—and for a moment, neither of them moved. His gaze didn’t ask for anything. It didn’t demand hope or strength. It just stayed, unwavering.
She swallowed hard, emotion pressing painfully behind her ribs.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Ellaryn didn’t pull away; if anything, she leaned closer, as though the warmth of the memory had followed her into the room.
Her breath trembled. “I forgot how safe it felt,” she whispered. “Being… small. Being held.”
Xander opened his eyes slowly. The sight of her tear-streaked face hit him harder than he expected. His hands slipped from her temples, but he didn’t move away. He stayed close, close enough that their knees brushed.
“You deserved that safety,” he said quietly. “You still do.”
Ellaryn laughed softly, a fragile sound as she wiped at her cheeks. “I don’t know how to be that person anymore.”
“You still are that person, Ellaryn,” Xander replied. “You just need to claim her.”
She turned toward him, then really looked at him. There was something raw in her gaze—gratitude tangled with fear, hope edged with disbelief.
“Thank you,” she said again, but this time it carried more weight.
He smiled slowly, an invisible tether drawing them close. She felt it. It was strong. Stronger than the will she had to keep them apart.
She hesitated, just briefly, before giving in, resting her forehead lightly against his shoulder. It was tentative, as if she might pull back at any second—but she didn’t. She stayed.
And after a moment, Xander lifted an arm around her, holding her gently, like something precious rather than fragile.
They stayed like that in silence—no magic, no answers, just the quiet proof that she wasn’t alone.
And for the first time in a long while, Ellaryn let herself believe that maybe… she didn’t have to be.