Epilogue
We sat in her study, the air thick with the scent of aged parchment and flickering candle wax.
Another grueling session of training, but this time, the roles were reversed.
I was the one trying to breach her defenses, to slip into the fortress of her mind.
Each attempt felt like slamming against an unyielding mountain—cold, immovable, ancient.
Thought after thought, memory after memory, she flicked me away like a speck of dust from her gown.
Frustration built inside me, a storm churning in my chest, until I gathered every ounce of my will, channeling the water’s relentless flow, and pushed harder.
Just a little longer. Just enough to glimpse something real.
And then, I was there.
Not in real life but witnessing a moment stolen from time.
Minerva stood in her chamber, her silver hair catching the dim light from the window. Aidenar leaned against the balcony railing, gazing out over the misty valleys below, his posture rigid with unspoken resolve.
“You know what’s waiting for you out there?” Minerva asked, her voice laced with concern, the lines around her eyes deepening like cracks in weathered stone.
Aidenar didn’t turn, his silver eyes fixed on the horizon.
“The same as everyone—blood, pain, maybe death. But it’s enough that Cineris fights for us while we hide in our castles.” His tone was steady, he was reconciled with what was to come.
Minerva crossed her arms, studying him with a mix of pride and worry.
“How do you feel with your power? You’re training too much. I’ve heard you leveled half the forest the other day.” There was a note of admiration in her words, grudging but genuine.
He trained without me? So, it wasn’t just the mines keeping him occupied.
Aidenar clenched his fists, his knuckles whitening against the stone railing.
“I have it under control. I need to be ready when I face them. I won’t let him walk away alive.”
“Don’t fight with emotions,” Minerva warned, her voice firm like a stone. “What you did with Dorthal... You think I didn’t see it. How much you enjoyed it. How power draws you in.”
Aidenar scoffed. “Don’t be dramatic.”
Minerva pressed on, her tone frigid. “Why do you think the gods’ names were forgotten? Their faces hidden?”
Surprise crossed Aidenar’s face.
“They did save the world from darkness, yes. But then the power corrupted them all. Envy and greed followed… they did horrendous things, the atrocities they committed… I don’t want you to follow the same fate.”
“How would you know?” Aidenar demanded.
“History forgets. People forget,” she said. “But elements endure.”
“And what about Nerissa?” Minerva pressed on, shifting the conversation with the precision of a blade. “Do you think I can keep her here much longer?”
Aidenar finally smiled to himself, a soft, knowing curve of his lips that made my heart twist even in the vision.
“Probably not for long. I know her too well.”
Minerva tilted her head, her eyes narrowing with curiosity. “Why her? Weren’t there enough women in White City?”
He turned then, facing her, “She’s different. She wanted me despite who I was, not because of it.”
“She is very powerful but unstable. She might save you, but she also might destroy everything.”
Aidenar smiled lightly, “Aren’t we all like that?”
“You want her because of her power?” Minerva kept on challenging him.
“I want her for her,” he replied without hesitation, his voice dropping to a fervent whisper. “With everything she has.”
“You’re still young,” Minerva said gently, though there was an edge of caution in it. “You don’t need to decide about your future now.”
He laughed outright, the sound echoing off the stone walls. “You’re starting to sound like my mother.”
“Spare me,” Minerva shot back, her eyes flashing with mock disdain. “I just want you to know what you’re doing.”
Aidenar grew serious again, his gaze drifting back to the view outside.
“Mina. I used to think love was a game played in the palace. Now I know. I was just waiting for her. There’s no one else.”
The vision shattered like a glass under pressure, pulling me back into the present. We sat across from each other in silence, the only sound was the distant drip of water echoing through the chamber. Minerva’s face was unreadable, her old blue eyes locked on mine.
I couldn’t tell if I’d earned that glimpse of memory or if it was her gift to me.