The sun sat low over the mountains, the sky stretched out overhead in a clear blue that felt serene, but empty. Alaric stood with his arm around Evangeline on the balcony of the room he had always intended to share with her, near the top of the tower. He listened to her speak, but her words were interrupted by the thrumming of her heart and the sound of her breathing. He cast out wave after wave just to sense the blazing core of energy inside of her. Beneath his arm, she leaned against him, warm and secure, not quite strong enough to stand on her own. But she was alive. Her face was bright and animated and so very alive.
“You’re doing it again,” she said, her smile teasing.
Alaric blinked and laughed. “Sorry. I have no idea what you just said.” He pulled her around and kissed her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him back. “It’s just that your alive-ness is so distracting.”
“Alive-ness? Is that a technical Keeper term?”
“Yes. Don’t be intimidated by my sophistication.”
She looked at him curiously. “Are you still a Keeper?”
Alaric dropped his forehead down to hers. It had taken some getting used to, learning that she hadn’t really been asleep all that time. He had been terrified that she’d be angry, but when they’d had their first moments alone, she had just stretched her hands out, flexing her fingers and then touching his face. “I’m too happy to be mad,” she’d said. “I know what you did and why. Besides, it wouldn’t be entirely fair if I’d just gotten to sleep while you were spending all that time tortured.” But she had smiled when she said it, and just like that, the issue was dismissed, dropped back into the realm of things in the past that are over now.
She knew all the things he had spoken to her during her long sickness. All the confessions of failure, all the fury at the Keepers for not helping him, all the anger, all the desperation. All the times he had sworn he was done being a Keeper.
“I’m not sure I’m the same Keeper I used to be, but… yes, I still am one. I have some ideas about how things need to change at the Stronghold, but I think there’s a chance it can all work out reasonably well. How do you feel about spending some time at court?”
Her eyebrows rose. “Well, I’m fancy enough for it.” She gave a little curtsey in her old traveling dress and bare feet, holding onto his arm to steady herself.
He smiled. “It’s busy there and there are some horrific people, but I think you’ll like Saren. And Ewan is there.
“At some point, I need to go see if I can figure out what happened to Will. When he left the palace, he was headed to the Roven Sweep to look into something with the nomads. But he should have been back a long time ago.”
“As long as we don’t volunteer for any fire lizard hunts on the way,” she said, “I’m willing.”
Alaric rested his chin on her head. There were too many emotions swirling inside him to pick just one. Evangeline was right here, standing, talking, breathing. But in a room below them, Ayda lay still and cold.
He let his mind stop spinning. He breathed in the scent of Evangeline’s skin. He felt the cool breeze and the cooler stones of the balcony. He listened to the quiet rustling of the world.
In the midst of all the emotions, he felt a small green shoot of peace begin to grow. It was a peace tinged with sorrow and loss, but it was rooted in a profound rightness.
Ayda was laid out peacefully on Evangeline’s table.
Alaric and Douglon had moved it to the balcony, and placed one tree on each side of her, their blooms just waiting to burst open.
Douglon stood stationed at her feet.
Alaric stepped up to Ayda’s side, his arm still around Evangeline.
Milly straightened Ayda’s dress and touched the ring of purple flowers that encircled her waist.
“These flowers are still alive!” she said, looking closely at one tiny daisy-like bloom. “How long has she worn this?”
Brandson stepped forward, his eyes red. His brow drew a bit and he said, “I think always.”
“She was wearing it the day we met her,” Douglon said.
“They’re beginning to fade a bit at the edges,” Milly said.
The very edge of each petal was curling. Alaric looked at Douglon, and the dwarf nodded.
Alaric traced some runes in the air above Ayda’s body, letting the slow energy pour out of his hands. A shimmer appeared. It stretched until it encompassed all of her, then hardened, perfectly clear.
Alaric set his hand lightly on the crystal. Beneath it, Ayda’s body lay perfectly still.
“Will it keep her like this forever?” Milly asked quietly.
“Not forever,” Alaric said. “But for a long time. It should take years for even the flowers to wilt.” He studied the flowers for a moment. “I don’t even know what sort of flowers those are. I wonder if they have any healing properties?” The question came out more out of habit than curiosity.
Evangeline peered down at the little purple flowers. “Those are Lumen Daisies. They grow everywhere in the Greenwood.”
Alaric raised his eyebrow. “You’ve never been in the Greenwood.”
Evangeline’s brow creased and she looked up at Alaric. “I know. But I also know that these flowers have no medicinal value and are a favorite gift among the elves. They symbolize… home.”
Alaric stared at her, an idea taking hold of him. “Why was the Elder Grove so powerful?” He tried to keep his eagerness under control.
“Because it was the burial ground for the first elven king and queen. They sacrificed themselves to the woods to create a place of power.”
Alaric took both of her hands. “How much do you know? How much did Ayda tell you?”
Evangeline shook her head. “I don’t know. I didn’t know I knew any of that until you asked.”
Alaric grinned at her. “That’s okay. I have a lot of questions.”
THE END