part0032

Ahvixx cradled Raithym in his arms as the beasts approached the citadel. His lavender orbs glimmered, fixed on the smoldering wound in Raithym’s chest. Ahvixx could hear the Protectors’ commands, and feel the Guardians’ connection, but Ayrmeis’ silent laments were more profound. He attempted to share his energy, but Ayrmeis had severed their connection, and there was nothing more Ahvixx could do.

Staring over at his cousin’s limp form, Ayrmeis struggled to maintain the modicum of composure that remained. He didn’t feel victorious, or like the Guardians’ paladin. He’d murdered his cousin, and he’d wished that he could’ve died beside him.

The ache Ayrmeis felt was interminable, knowing that his cousin had died at his hands. No, not just his cousin, Raithym was much more, and yet, Ayrmeis had driven the scepter through his chest.

He turned away, grief-stricken, and contemplated ending his own life. As that thought repeated in his mind, Ayrmeis’ fingers began to tremble. He lifted one from its clasping position, and then another. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, loosening his grasp.

Xandi’s powerful screech caused Ayrmeis to flinch, instinctively clutching onto Brukin again. With a jostling thud, Náelon landed on the citadel’s roof, clawing at the stone surface.

Ayrmeis watched Arinak lift Ahvixx from Xandi’s back, as Brukin did the same for him. He couldn’t move, staring at Ahvixx cradling his cousin’s limp body in his arms.

With a resonating clang, Danimore thrust the roof’s door open. He rushed toward the Protectors, frantically searching for his son. When he saw Ahvixx moving away, Danimore yelled out, running behind him.

Ayrmeis fought against his forming tears, hearing the cries of Raithym’s father. He wanted to go to him, he wanted to see his cousin, but he couldn’t move. He just stood there, tethered to the roof on legs barely able to support his weight.

Hearing the clamoring voices behind him, Ayrmeis managed to crane around, meeting the eyes of his mentor.

“Uzon.” Ayrmeis’ voice cracked as he limped forward in desperation.

When he neared Symeon, Ayrmeis gripped him in a tight hug, never wanting to release him.

“You’ve returned,” Symeon said, both relieved and melancholic. Ayrmeis scars and bruises were apparent, but his visage was even more telling. Symeon was nearly overwhelmed, trying to remain composed for Ayrmeis’ sake.

“Come,” Symeon said, releasing his hold. “Nzuri must see to you.”

Ayrmeis understood why Symeon behaved so: Jasiri warriors were supposed to be imperturbable regardless of the circumstances. Albeit, at that moment, Ayrmeis didn’t care. He grabbed Symeon again, holding him tighter.

Symeon felt himself weaken, feeling Ayrmeis’ pain as if it were his own.

“Thank the Guardians, Ayrmeis,” Brahanu said, rushing up beside them. Symeon clapped him on his shoulder, offering a sympathetic gaze before moving away.

“Thank the Guardians,” Brahanu said again, giving Ayrmeis a hug.

Pentanimir rested a hand on Ayrmeis’ shoulder, but his eyes were fixed on Ahvixx, moving behind a tall stone pilaster with Raithym.

“Symeon, Nakaris,” Pentanimir said. “You need to take Ayrmeis inside and stop everyone except Temian or Thalassa from coming to the roof. Post some guards if necessary, I don’t care, just keep them in the citadel. Do you understand?”

Before they could respond, Sarai ran through the open door.

“Ayrmeis!” she said, hastening her pace. Symeon did well to keep her away from Ayrmeis before he’d left for Sanctium. But now, she couldn’t be stopped.

“Bless the Guardians, Ayrmeis!” Sarai said through heavy tears, wrapping him in a hug. She rocked him in her arms, crying irrepressibly. “You’re home! Thank the Guardians! My Ayrmeis, gods, my Ayrmeis!”

Ayrmeis was no longer able to contain any of his emotion, returning Sarai’s intense embrace. His stance faltered, burying his face in her shoulder, weeping openly. All the pain and regret he felt, came surging to the surface. This was a greater pain than he’d ever known, and he didn’t believe that he could survive it. And at that moment, he didn’t want to.

As Ayrmeis’ knees weakened, both he and Sarai swayed to the ground. Laying his head in her chest, he continued to weep.

“Momma…Momma,” he whimpered, causing Sarai’s tears to increase. She kissed the crown of his head, caressing his back.

“Yes, Ayrmeis, yes. I’ve always been. Always. Forgive me, please. I love you, my sweet boy. It’s all right. I love you.”

Noticing Brahanu’s expression, Symeon helped Ayrmeis and Sarai to stand. He wrapped his arms around the two and turned back toward the citadel, holding them both upright.

“Raithym?” Zeta shouted, struggling against Nakaris’ grasp. “Where’s Raithym?”

Symeon halted as Zeta clutched Ayrmeis’ arm, not allowing them to pass. “Where’s my son, you bastard? What did you do to him!”

“Please, Zeta,” Temian said. “He’s coming. You must be calm. Please, just wait for us inside.”

Zeta’s shrieking protests resonated around them as Nakaris scooped her into his arms, and carried her back inside.

Once the door had closed, Pentanimir gestured at Temian toward where Ahvixx had disappeared.

“We must search and return,” Arinak said, mounting Xandi. “Sanctium is no more, but we need to ensure that the seal remains, and then return to Afferea.”

Without awaiting a reply, Arinak replaced his helm, taking to the skies.

When they heard Danimore’s shouts, Temian and Pentanimir exchanged a glance, before rushing to find their brother.

Danimore cradled Raithym’s lifeless body in his arms, speaking incoherently.

“You’ve killed my son! All of you! All of you killed him!” Danimore accused when Pentanimir approached. “Why? Haven’t we suffered enough? Why would you take my son’s life? I trusted you…I…I…” His voice petered to nothing, as he continued to sob.

Pentanimir tried to respond, but Ahvixx stepped in front of him. “Raithym was always meant to die, Nakshij.”

“What?” Danimore’s rheumy eyes looked crazed, staring up at the men. “You knew? You bastard! You knew my son would die?”

“It could be no other way. Mah’saahc couldn’t take refuge within the Protectors or me. Only with Raithym’s death could her essence be drawn within the key.”

“You used my son as a sacrifice?”

“No. Mah’saahc chose Raithym. Howbeit, it wouldn’t have been possible had he heeded our warnings. When Nikolina—”

“You killed my son and you dare blame him for his own death! The Guardians could’ve protected Raithym as they did Ayrmeis, but they sacrificed him to save my brother’s son.”

“Raithym’s life ended as the scepter pierced his heart. The wound yet festers.”

Danimore turned away, lowering his head to his son’s chest. When Pentanimir rested a hand on his shoulder, Danimore angrily shoved it away.

“Don’t touch me! You knew and said nothing. You knew that I’d lose Raithym, and your son would live. I asked you, Pentanimir, I asked, and you didn’t tell me the truth. Ayrmeis murdered my son! Losing Godfrey wasn’t enough? My eldest as well? Why?”

Pentanimir stared in shock, with warm tears streaking his cheeks. When he opened his mouth to respond, no sound would issue forth.

“No, Nakshij,” Ahvixx said. “Raithym was compromised when Nikolina syphoned his blood. Once Mah’saahc received the blood of Oisin, it strengthened her, and connected them in manners that you wouldn’t understand.

“His path could not be altered, as it was for Ayrmeis. Pentanimir didn’t know your son would die, he was only warned about the possible conflict. We tried to protect both Raithym and Ayrmeis, but he chose to confront Molag. The Guardians do not control, Nakshij, they only guide.”

“So, my son’s life was forfeit? You killed him. All of you are guilty. All of you let him die.”

Pentanimir couldn’t respond. Danimore’s words pierced his heart as effectively as the divine rod had pierced Raithym’s. He staggered back several steps as the pain of Danimore’s words penetrated every part of him.

“Raithym’s life energy was extricated, but it can be restored,” Ahvixx said, steadying Pentanimir’s stance.

“Restored?” Danimore’s head snapped up. “How? How, Ahvixx, please tell me what to do. Please.”

“Your brother’s blood will seal the wound and heal the heart.”

“My brother’s? I’ll use my own blood to save my son,” Danimore said, unsheathing his dagger.

“No! Only your brother’s blood will heal the wound and restore your son. A few drops within the wound will mend it. We must make haste, or soon it will be too late.”

“I’ll do it, Dani,” Pentanimir said.

Danimore glared at them, and then looked down at Raithym. “I don’t want your help, any of you. I’ll sacrifice my blood to save my son’s life.”

Ahvixx sighed, his visage displaying empathy and distress. “Danimore, your blood won’t heal this wound. Allow Pentanimir to aid Raithym before he can no longer be healed.”

“What in all hells do you mean?” Danimore nearly shouted. “Why won’t my blood heal my son’s wound?”

“Just as only one possessing the blood of Oisin could affect the seal, only the blood of a son of Manifir will heal this wound.”

Danimore’s eyes narrowed, nearly toppling to the ground.

“No, only your blood or Pentanimir’s can guide Raithym back to the realm of the living. His essence remains interlaced with the T’reyUhm R’aFek’s vims. The Guardians protect Raithym’s life energy so that he may return to you. Either you or Pentanimir can aid Raithym. Not Danimore.”

“Why?” Pentanimir asked, steadying Danimore as he swayed on weak knees.

Ahvixx shook his head, inhaling a steeling breath. “Danimore is the same as Raithym and Ayrmeis are. Manifir was his father, but he was not his sire.”

“Enough,” Pentanimir shouted. “Danimore has always been my brother. We’re both sons of Manifir.”

“I don’t wish to grieve you further, but if Raithym is to be saved, I’m left with no other choice,” Ahvixx said, woefully. “Zaxson, Danimore and you share the same mother. However, Danimore’s sire wasn’t Manifir.

“It was Oxilon.”

“What! My mother would never betray my father. Never!” Pentanimir said, rushing toward him. The anger in his tone didn’t reach his face. Pentanimir’s visage was forlorn.

Danimore collapsed over his son’s still body, continuing to weep.

“This wasn’t due to any betrayals of your mother. It was the evils of your uncle. Oxilon believed that your mother knew the whereabouts of Manifir’s alleged human lover and their children. Although your mother was ignorant of Manifir’s previous associations, it mattered not. All the rage and envy Oxilon felt toward his brother, he inflicted upon his wife.

“Kitrin never revealed Oxilon’s violation to your father, and she wasn’t certain of Danimore’s paternity until his birth.” Ahvixx sighed, looking on with empathy. “Your mother claimed Danimore was premature. Manifir didn’t question, but Oxilon wasn’t fooled.

“He’d planned a strategic assault on Kitrin when Manifir was on business for the Zaxson. Manifir’s leave from Nazil lasted nearly two full moons, and coincided with Oxilon’s assault, and your mother’s subsequent pregnancy.

“Danimore’s sire was obvious, and Oxilon could see much of himself in you. That’s what caused his ire, Danimore. It wasn’t anything you’d done against him. It was his hatred of the part of himself that he saw in you.”

“He is, but our time grows short. Soon, the wound will be beyond repair. The blood of Manifir will heal this wound and none other.”

“I am a son of Manifir!” Danimore said, raising the dagger. With one fluid motion, he slashed his palm, allowing the blood to drip into the open wound.

Raithym’s body jerked, convulsing as tarry blood spilled from his mouth. The wound in his chest expanded, releasing a pungent, swirling, pallid fog.

“Gods! No! What have I done?” Danimore shouted, forcing his hands against the seeping wound. “Raithym…no…Raithym. My son. Please, gods, my son!” He cried out, beating his hands against the unrelenting ground. Temian and Pentanimir rushed to his side, pulling him away from Raithym.

“Stop this, Dani, stop this,” Temian said. “We must help Raithym.”

“I can’t, Brother,” he whimpered, crumpling on the ground. “I can’t save my son.”

Pentanimir gestured to Temian, and he picked up the dagger, slashing his palm.

Coiling dark smoke wafted from Raithym’s chest as the blood dripped into the cavity. The brothers stared in awe, as the festering wound pulsed, decreasing in size.

When Raithym’s body twitched, Temian retracted his hand. He backed away, continuing to watch his nephew’s body reanimate.

Raithym sucked in a deep breath, his body tautening on the ground.

“Raithym,” Danimore cried out, cradling him in his arms. The rise and fall of Raithym’s chest increased, growing stronger with each inhalation.

Once the wound had sealed, Raithym groaned, raising a trembling hand to his chest.

He’d pierced his cousin’s heart and a part of him had died on Sanctium with Raithym. The visions inundating Ayrmeis’ mind would forever be a part of him. He felt that torment was a fitting punishment for what he’d done. He’d never be free from this pain. He was a murderer, and deserved to die.

Raithym was dearer to him than even his brothers were.

When Ayrmeis heard his door open, he turned toward the wall, burrowing beneath the blankets.

He didn’t respond, sinking deeper within himself, in hopes that his visitor would think him asleep.

“Ayrmeis?” Pentanimir said again, gently nudging his shoulder.

“Father?” He asked, wiping his tears on his blanket before uncovering his head. “I—I wanted to rest.”

“I know,” Pentanimir said, resting a hand on his chest. When he looked into Ayrmeis eye, he nearly flinched. Kuhani and Turahn had tended his wounds, but the scars, and the eye patch he wore spoke much of his injuries. However, those outward wounds were minor compared to Ayrmeis’ inner ones.

“I wouldn’t have disturbed you, Ayrmeis, but I wanted you to know what’s happened.”

Ayrmeis studied his face, sitting up in the bed. “Hap—happened?”

“I just spoke with Nzuri about Raithym.”

When Ayrmeis shook his head, Pentanimir gripped his shoulders, looking into his eye. “It’s all right, Ayrmeis. Everything will be all right.”

“How? Nothing will ever be all right again, Father. I—I’ve killed Raithym. I killed him.”

Pentanimir pulled him closer, feeling his pain as though it was his own. “No, Ayrmeis. You defeated the eidolon, Mah’saahc. You didn’t kill Raithym. He—he’s alive. He’s resting in his room now. Did you hear me, my son? Raithym is alive.”

Ayrmeis’ brow creased, staring at his father in disbelief. For several moments he sat motionless, trying to understand Pentanimir’s words. When his father’s statements finally resonated, Ayrmeis leapt from his bed, rushing out of his room.

“Raithym,” he breathed, throwing open the door to his room. He couldn’t be soothed until he held his cousin in his arms to prove that he was real.

Both Danimore and Zeta jumped as the door banged open. Ayrmeis ran to Raithym’s bedside, nearly collapsing over him.

“Raithym,” Ayrmeis said, gripping him in a loving hug. “I prayed that you were all right. By the gods, I prayed for it.”

“The Guardians heard your prayers, Cousin, and I understand your pain. We’re both well now, Ayrmeis. The both of us.”

“Why is he here?” Zeta stood, scowling over at him. “Who allowed you in here?”

Ayrmeis raised his eye to hers, with pain contorting his features.

“Zeta?” Pentanimir said, entering with Symeon.

“How dare you come near my son when it’s by your hands that he lay dead. You killed my son! You killed him!” Zeta shouted, slapping at Ayrmeis.

“No, Zeta,” Danimore said. Before he could intervene, Symeon was at Ayrmeis’ side, blocking him from Zeta’s blows. Danimore cradled his wife in his arms while Symeon helped Ayrmeis to stand, nearly carrying him from the room.

“Ayrmeis shouldn’t have come here,” Danimore said when they’d gone. “You shouldn’t have either, Pentanimir.”

“No. I don’t want to hear anything from you. Not now. Nothing you can say will change what’s happened. You’ve never come false to me before. With this, all of this, you never told me the truth.”

“Dani, please, I didn’t know. Ayrmeis didn’t want to harm Raithym. It was the wraith, Mah’saahc. You know this. Please. Raithym is here with us, Brother. Ayrmeis never wanted to harm him.”

“Then why did he kill my son?” Zeta said.

“He destroyed the wraith. The scepter caused Raithym’s death—”

“That’s a distinction without a difference,” Zeta said, pulling away from Danimore. “Had it been Tardison, mayhaps then you’d understand. It was our son, Pentanimir, ours . Your sons were protected, but not ours.”

“Mother, Father, please,” Raithym said, straining to push up. “Uncle, come. Please.”

Pentanimir peered at Zeta from the corner of his eye before sitting on the bed next to his nephew.

“Tell Ayrmeis that I don’t blame him,” Raithym said, grasping Pentanimir’s hand. “I know what was in his mind and his heart. I understand his pain and yet feel his love.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know, truly. I didn’t know.”

“I don’t blame you, either, Uncle. I’m merely one that the wraith used as fodder in her fiendish schemes. The Guardians helped me realize not only Ayrmeis’ struggle and pain, but yours, too. When I was within their light, everything was perspicuous.”

“Raithym, you need to rest,” Zeta said, stroking his face.

“I have more to say. Ayrmeis—”

“No,” Zeta said, louder than she’d meant. “I’ll hear nothing more about Ayrmeis. He killed you, Raithym. He took you from me.”

“Still you don’t understand. Ayrmeis didn’t kill me. He saved me.”

“Saved you?” She scoffed. “By plunging a spear into your heart?”

“Do you not see, Mother? If Ayrmeis hadn’t used the scepter, I would’ve died.” He looked from Danimore to Zeta. “Mah’saahc needed both my blood and my essence, all of it, to release the Zon’Tuls. She wouldn’t have relented until she’d syphoned all the life from me.

“If not for the Guardians moving through Ayrmeis, I would’ve died. They shielded what Mah’saahc coveted: the source and true instrument needed to break the seal. Me. My death was necessary to not only save Faélondul, but also my life.”

“But,” Zeta began, and then stopped, noticing Raithym’s anguished expression.

“The Guardians merged my essence, my life force with theirs, protecting it from the wraith. This is why I’m alive. I need to see Ayrmeis. He suffers.”

“What about your suffering? Does it mean nothing?”

“My suffering is infinitesimal compared to that of my cousin. Please don’t blame him, Mother. Had you felt his grief and trepidation, you’d understand. It was Mah’saahc,” he said, looking at his father.

“Nikolina released the wraith when she made a pact with Lilinth. She was the catalyst. Ayrmeis did what was necessary to protect Faélondul. If you must hold anger toward anyone, hold it toward yourself. I know why Nikolina despised me, and both of you know the same. My cousin should be celebrated, not accused and shunned. He loves me, just as I love him.”

Danimore was shocked, but couldn’t refute his assertions. The AsZar had told Pentanimir that the seed of scorn had caused all of this to be: Godfrey’s and Nikolina’s death, Mah’saahc’s release, and Raithym’s death. That painful truth caused tears to well in Danimore’s eyes.

“I’m sorry, Raithym. I only wanted to protect you and your mother. I loved you even before you were born.”

“I know.” Raithym winced. “The Guardians helped me understand far more than I can convey. I was always supposed to die, Father. Do you not see? Mah’saahc suffused me, and she couldn’t be defeated until my life was at an end. Once the host dies, she must flee. This is why, Mother,” he said, holding her hand.

“Ayrmeis didn’t realize what he’d have to do until our battle was joined. He believed that once Mah’saahc’s essence was drawn within the key, that I would be whole. Had he known the truth, he could never have pierced the darkness.”

“Did the Guardians reveal everything to you?” Pentanimir asked.

Raithym’s pained smile returned as his eyes blinked wearily. “I know who my true father is, as well as Ayrmeis’. I’m Draizeyn Vereux son, and Ayrmeis is the son of Daracus Vereux.

“Ayrmeis and I aren’t cousins. He’s my nephew.”

Zeta gasped, turning away.

“I’m not angered or saddened by any of this, Mother. I’ll always love both of you.”

“We didn’t want you to know, Raithym, nor Ayrmeis. Regardless of what happened, we love you. Danimore is your father and Pentanimir is Ayrmeis’.”

“There isn’t any reason to tell Ayrmeis otherwise. He’s suffered enough, and I’ll grieve him no further,” he said, looking at his parents. “Nor will either of you.”

“No, Mother. Please. Don’t allow the darkness to find your heart. It will only lead to ruin as it did for Nikolina. I’m still here with you, and soon you’ll be blessed with another child. Can’t this be blessing enough?”

“Forgive me. I—I thought I’d lost you, Raithym. My heart couldn’t withstand such a separation. I’ve already lost your brother; I couldn’t lose you, too.”

Raithym caressed her hand. “I’m yet with you.”

“I’ll tell Ayrmeis your sentiments,” Pentanimir said. “We’ll be going to the Animus Woods soon, and both of you will heal.”

“The Guardians requested our presence?” Danimore asked.

“Yes, Dani, I was going to tell you when I came. Yet—” Pentanimir left his words there as Danimore lowered his head.

“When will we leave?” Danimore asked.

“Two suns hence. All seven Protectors will escort us.”

“I don’t want to go,” Zeta said.

“Mother, you must.”

“No. They allowed you to die, Raithym. They took you from me.”

“No, they protected my essence and returned me to you. Mah’saahc took me, not the Guardians. How can you turn your back on those who’ve blessed us so?”

“No. When my sire abused you, the Guardians sent not only Father, but also Uncle to protect you. The Guardians healed your womb and blessed you with the babe you now carry. Those from whom you turn saved my life. You must come with us,” he said, straining to rise, but fell back as the pain seized him. “You—you’re needed, Mother. We all are.”

“You knew about the summons?” Pentanimir asked, dabbing the sweat from Raithym’s face.

“Yes. I knew that we’d need to return. My wound will never fully heal without the Guardians’ merge. Ayrmeis, Tardison, and I will travel beyond the falls together.”

“Tardison?” Pentanimir asked.

“Tardison’s and Ayrmeis’ energies are still intertwined, and the Guardians must sever the connection.”

“What about Ahvixx? He was connected with Ayrmeis, too.”

“He’ll travel to the wood, but no healing is needed.”

Danimore caressed Raithym’s face, knowing that he needed to rest. “We’ll return to the wood together, Raithym. All of us,” he said, bringing Zeta closer. “We all need to heal.”

Pentanimir nodded. “After we leave the Animus Wood, I won’t be returning to Nazil. I’ll have a score of Jasiri meet Brahanu and me in Cazaal. I think we could all use a respite, and I’m certain that Temian and Thalassa can oversee the affairs here until our return.”

“Cazaal?” Danimore said. “For how long?”

Pentanimir smiled, wistfully. “Until you can forgive me and love me as you once did.”

“Brother, there isn’t anything to forgive. Always I’ll love you. You know this. It’s just…always…it’s…I can’t, and then Oxilon. I—I can’t, it’s too much,” Danimore stammered, trying to convey all of his muddled thoughts at once.

“I know, Dani. I’m sorry, and I don’t fault you for anything. I love you. No matter what we must face, I’ll always love you, Brother.”

“Ayrmeis is resting now, Zaxson,” Nzuri said, entering with Ceron. “Symeon and Sarai are sitting with him, while I came to tend Raithym.”

Danimore nodded, kissing Raithym’s brow. “Come now, Zeta. Let’s allow Raithym to rest. We’ll return soon. I promise.”

When they left the room, Nzuri inspected Raithym’s wounds. “How do you feel?” he asked, rubbing ointment on his chest, and changing the dressings.

“Like someone who’s passed from the land of the living and then returned,” Raithym said, blinking languidly.

Nzuri’s movements stopped, looking down at the remarkable young man. “Indeed, Lord Benoist. We thought we’d lost you. No one grieved more than Ayrmeis.”

“I know, High Priest. I can feel his despondency from here. After we’ve visited the wood, we’ll both be healed.”

“Would you like some dream wine?”

“No. Thank you. I’ll rest well without it.”

“What about your pain?”

“It’s tolerable. I’m doing well, due to your ministrations.”

“There’s much yet to do. Your body needs time to heal, Raithym. Kuhani will visit you on the morrow. Rest now, and Ceron will return with a meal after you’ve slept.”

“If’n you ain’t mindin’, High Priest, I’m wantin’ to stay for a bit.”

Nzuri looked at Ceron curiously, and then back to Raithym. When he nodded, Nzuri relented. “All right, but don’t remain long. Raithym must rest.”

“Yes’m, High Priest. I promise.”

As soon as the door closed, Ceron leaned down, kissing Raithym.

“I was fearin’ when they’s told ‘bout what happened. You sure you’re all right?”

“I am. Once we’ve returned from the wood, I’ll be whole.”

“Thank the Guardians, Raithym. I’m not knowin’ what I’d do if you was gone. Our babe is needin’ a father.”

“I’ll be here for the both of you.”

“What ‘bout your parents?”

“There’s little they can do, Ceron. We’re going to have a child, and you’ll remain here in the citadel. I’ll speak with them soon and arrange for another attendant to replace you. I won’t allow the mother of my child to be a laborer in the citadel.”

“Your mum told me to leave you be. She ain’t ‘gon be too happy learnin’ ‘bout the babe.”

Raithym drew her down to him, softly kissing her cheek. “It’ll take some time, but mother will love and accept our coming child just as Danimore loved and accepted me as his own.”

Ceron pushed up, looking into his eyes. “I weren’t knowin’ you knew ‘bout that.”

“I only learned about it recently. Regardless, Danimore Benoist will always be my father. Draizeyn Vereux was merely my sire. I’m a Benoist, and our child will be one, too.”

“Draizeyn?” She gasped.

“It’s of no matter,” he said, closing his eyes. “I’d like for you to stay here a while with me.”

“I ain’t goin’ nowheres. I’ll always be at your side,” she promised, laying her head on his chest.

Pentanimir closed his eyes, listening to the falls’ music, and recalling the first time he’d come to Afferea, and experienced those dulcet refrains. The turbidity and heartache he’d suffered then, was infinitesimal compared to what he now faced. Or perhaps, it was merely different, yet equally debilitating. Pentanimir wasn’t certain. As he stood here now, holding on to his wife’s hand, he wasn’t certain of anything, especially his family’s future.

They had defeated Mah’saahc, but he didn’t feel victorious. He hadn’t been the one sacrificing his life to save Faélondul. Not this time. His sons and nephews had borne this burden, and the complexities of that battle had impacted his family in incalculable ways.

Both Zeta and Danimore’s resentment was understandable, but Pentanimir didn’t possess the ability or a means to soothe their heart and mend the wound this battle had inflicted on them. Time was the only means to heal such an ache, albeit, time mightn’t be enough for Danimore.

Pentanimir felt that Danimore’s wounds would never fully heal. It was more than learning about Oxilon. Knowing that he’d raped their mother was a torment to them both. However, Danimore’s pain was expounded being the product of that assault.

Pentanimir clenched his eyes tighter, struggling to hear the falls’ music over the debilitating thoughts in his mind. Regardless of the past, he needed to look toward their futures. His sons and nephews had survived the battle on Sanctium. Now, Pentanimir needed to help them survive the battles raging within each of them.

“Are you all right?” Brahanu whispered. She squeezed the hand she held, looking into his eyes.

Pentanimir forced a smile, leaning down to kiss her cheek. “In time,” he said, looking over to their sons. “We all will be, in time.”

As Brahanu rested her head on his shoulder, the falls released a luminous burst, synchronous with Angelaris’ harmonic greeting.

After offering a prayer, the AsZar extended out a hand toward Ahvixx.

“The Guardians await you and your family beyond the falls. Ayrmeis, Tardison, and Raithym, please follow the Ke’ohnzi, and have your wounds healed.”

“Will Raithym be all right, AsZar?” Zeta asked. “Can the wound be completely healed?”

“Yes. The blood of Manifir has strengthened him. Once he’s merged with the Guardians, the wound will be no more.”

Danimore’s face darkened, feeling both the anger and pain of that truth.

“Danimore,” Angelaris said. “It grieved us that you learned the truth of your birth in such a manner. Had the circumstances been different, this wouldn’t have been disclosed.

“Learning the truth of your sire doesn’t diminish what you’ve always known. Manifir Benoist loved you, and he will always be your father. Don’t allow the darkness that pervaded Oxilon to alter who you are, or your connection with your siblings. Doing so could cause a dissention, tainting what must remain pure.”

Danimore merely nodded, drawing Zeta nearer.

“Will—will Ayrmeis’ be healed as well?” Sarai asked, edging forward, timidly. “I mean, both physically and mentally.”

“Both Ayrmeis and Tardison’s healing will be complete.”

“Thank you,” Sarai said, wiping away her tears.

“Sarai, your love for Ayrmeis is profound,” Angelaris said. “This surprises you?”

Sarai glanced at Pentanimir and Brahanu, recalling what she’d previously said. “It—it does.”

“And you, Symeon?”

He draped an arm around his wife, meeting Angelaris’ eyes. “Yes. I love Ayrmeis.”

“What are your feelings, Zaxson?” Angelaris asked. “Do you love your son?”

“I’ve always loved Ayrmeis,” Pentanimir said, moving next to Symeon. “He—he bears a name from both my parents, and I’ve made no difference between Ayrmeis and my other sons.”

“You speak true, but what about your wife? Do her feelings mirror your own?”

Brahanu’s eyes widened as they met Pentanimir’s. This was the first time that she had to honestly consider her feelings. Perhaps she’d used Ayrmeis’ accelerated growth as an excuse, as a way to allow Sarai to be the mother Brahanu didn’t truly want to be. Did she ever have a connection with Ayrmeis, or accept him as her son? At that moment, she feared speaking an answer.

“I do love him.”

Angelaris smiled, gliding over to her. “You do,” she said. “Yet, not as a mother should love a child.” Before Brahanu could answer, Angelaris raised an unjudging hand.

“It isn’t an admonition, Brahanu. It’s merely the truth. I’m not doubting that you love Ayrmeis. In fact, I can feel that love as I speak with you.

“But Ayrmeis isn’t your natural son, and not everyone is capable of providing the true mother’s love that such a child needs. If you desire the best for Ayrmeis, now is the time to consider what that might be.”

Pentanimir’s brow knitted. “What’s that to mean?”

“Is your love for Ayrmeis strong enough to allow him his true parents?”

“What?” Pentanimir gasped. “You—you’d take my son?”

“No,” Angelaris said. “No one will take Ayrmeis from you. I asked but a question. Is your love this strong?”

Myriad divergent emotions erupted in his heart and mind. Had he and Temian not spoken about this very thing? Pentanimir loved Ayrmeis, loved him as his own.

“He’s my son,” he murmured, looking at Symeon and Sarai. Pentanimir couldn’t deny the obvious bond Ayrmeis and Symeon shared, either. It wasn’t merely emulation; it was admiration and true love, a love Ayrmeis didn’t feel as strongly toward him.

At that, Pentanimir looked into Brahanu’s eyes, finding the truth neither of them had spoken aloud. Could he allow Sarai her son? How could he not?

“If—if their love and desire outweigh my own, I could release Ayrmeis to his true mother. But I don’t want to be without him,” Pentanimir said, weakly. “I love him.”

“We won’t leave the citadel,” Sarai said. “If you’d allow Ayrmeis to be with us, we’ll remain at your side, always. I owe you more than I could ever pay for caring for my son when I thought it was impossible for me to do so.

“I believed that when I looked at Ayrmeis, I’d see only Daracus, and relive the cruelties he inflicted upon me.” Sarai shook her head, stepping closer to him. “I didn’t know, Zaxson, truly.

“Even though Ayrmeis’ features do mirror Daracus’, that isn’t what I see. When I look at Ayrmeis, I see only him. I see only my son. I know it isn’t fair to ask for him now. But I’ve taken care of him since he was an infant, and I couldn’t believe my heart could love so tenderly and so completely. It does and always has with Ayrmeis. Please, my—my husband feels the same as I do. We both love Ayrmeis.”

Symeon nodded his agreement when Pentanimir regarded him.

He’d recognized that long ago, but once Symeon acknowledged that love, it forced Pentanimir to confront what he’d tried to deny, but always felt in his heart.

“What about Ayrmeis?” Pentanimir asked. “He knows Brahanu and me as his parents. We can’t just remove him from our family as if he was never a part of it.”

“We’re not asking you to foreswear your relationship with Ayrmeis,” Angelaris said. “If you decide to release him to Sarai and Symeon, Ayrmeis will be receptive. There would be no residual pain or resentment to bear. This, I promise. Ayrmeis will still love you, as you will love him.”

Pentanimir nodded, hesitantly, and then looked up at Symeon. “You’ve always loved him as a son, haven’t you?”

“I have, Zaxson. The bond is undeniable, but I wouldn’t act on those feelings. I understand that he is your son, and know how much you love him, too.”

“I do, Symeon. I love Ayrmeis very much, both as my son, and as yours.” Pentanimir said, forcing back the tears lining his eyes.

“Do not grieve, Pentanimir. Ayrmeis will still be with you,” Angelaris said. “Being a father isn’t the only way to love a child, or share in his life. You’ll find that being a trusted friend and mentor has benefits that you’ve yet to discover,” Angelaris said, turning toward Brahanu. “You’ll still share in Ayrmeis’ life as well, as will your daughter.”

“My—my daughter?” Brahanu breathed. “Am I with child, AsZar?”

“We’re going to have a daughter?” Pentanimir said, embracing his wife as a smile returned to his face.

“Uzon Osei,” Angelaris said. “We extend our gratitude to you. By answering the summons, you’ve helped not only the Guardians, but all Faélondul.”

“The Jasiri will forever heed your call, AsZar. Am I to return?”

Angelaris smiled, reaching out to him. “Soon, Uzon. K’ohshul is your place, and Drah’kuu Malachi will have need of you. The scepter will remain beyond the falls, guarded by the Watchmen.”

“Before you traverse the threshold, you must commune with the Guardians.”

“The Ceremony of Six?” Turahn asked.

Wordlessly, Turahn bowed, and then walked into the falls as Angelaris approached the couples.

“Soon the Protectors will return with your children. Some have spoken of paths which turn from Nazil,” she said, looking at Danimore. “Such choices could have unforeseen corollaries, and shouldn’t be made in haste. There’s a bond between each of you, that can’t be allowed to wither. The love in your hearts transcends the pains of your past. Let no thought, person, or circumstance weaken the bond between you. Your strength lies within your connection. A connection that’s infinitely stronger than your origins,” Angelaris paused, meeting all of their eyes. “Or your sires.”

Danimore drew Zeta closer, understanding those truths. Even after the trials they’d suffered, and learning about Oxilon, he still loved his brother. He loved all his siblings, and knew he was stronger with them. He’d need their support and love, to overcome what he had yet to face.

Now, he understood Oxilon’s rebuke. As Oxilon was to Manifir, so was Danimore to Pentanimir. Oxilon hated seeing himself in Danimore: his only living son. It was a torment to Oxilon, just as knowing that he was his sire, tormented Danimore.

“Dani?” Pentanimir said, moving to face him. “Will you return to Nazil with me? I need you at my side, Brother.”

“I’ll always be at your side, Pentanimir. Always.”

“Your sons’ approach,” Angelaris said.

Sarai fumbled nervously as Arinak, Baldon, and Michau emerged from the falls. She was anxious to see Ayrmeis, but trepidatious as well. He was the Zaxson’s son, and now, they’d ask him to become less. For the first time, she feared that he might not accept such a demotion.

“By the gods,” Danimore shouted, drawing everyone’s attention. He rushed to Michau, crying out again.

“It can’t be,” Brahanu gasped, stumbling backward. Pentanimir steadied her stance, trying to speak, but no words would issue forth. When they approached Arinak, he inclined his head, handing the child to Brahanu. Tears streamed from her eyes as she looked at Pentanimir, and then back to their sleeping son.

“How?” she cried, cradling the toddler in her arms.

“Ayrmeis,” Sarai breathed, swaying to her knees, weeping irrepressibly. Symeon lifted her from the ground, placing Ayrmeis in her arms.

“AsZar? How is this possible?” Pentanimir asked. “Our children are as they were. They—they are young again, we have them with us once more.”

“The Guardians’ blessings cover them, Zaxson. Once Mah’saahc’s essence was drawn within the key, her influence could no longer affect the children.”

“But they were men grown,” Danimore said, caressing Raithym’s cheek.

“The Guardians’ energies eradicated the eidolon’s manipulations, cleansing your sons. Your children’s ages are now as they should be. Merely a year’s progression has taken place as would be natural for the children.”

“Thank you,” Sarai said, cradling Ayrmeis close to her breasts. “Thank you. We have our son. It’s a blessing beyond any other.”

“Ayrmeis was meant to be with you,” Angelaris said. “Howbeit, it couldn’t be so until you realized the love you held for him, a love you once thought impossible.

“Ayrmeis and Idris are Jasiri warriors, just as their father. You’re the Uzon of Nazil, Symeon. When the time comes, you’ll traverse the threshold to K’ohshul. Only there can the trials be completed, and the promise fulfilled. Another will journey at your side as you stand before Drah’kuu Malachi.

“At the trial’s end, you’ll return to Nazil with the wives who have been selected. Your sons will be three, yet the wives will be four. The Benoist and Yegos will always have a special bond.”

“Wives?” Sarai stared down at her young son. “What wives, AsZar?”

“Once the choice is made, then we will know,” Angelaris said. “Uzon Osei will prepare what’s needed if you choose the path of the Jasiri, Symeon. Look for Tekalign, and know your purpose.”

“Zeta and Danimore. Words were spoken that cannot be unspoken. But you now have the opportunity to mend what has been broken. The paths ahead of you have many turns. Choose the correct direction for your lives, and that of your children.”

Zeta’s gaze lowered, feeling shamed by both her previous words and actions. As she held onto her son, she pushed everything else from her mind. Raithym was a child again, and that’s what truly mattered. Her family was whole, and she thanked the Guardians for those blessings.

“There is more,” Angelaris said. “Raithym is a boy of four, but within two seasons, he, too, will have a son.”

“A—a son! How?” Danimore asked, wide-eyed.

“Ceron!” Zeta spat.

“Yes,” Angelaris said. “Ceron loves your son, and it will be difficult for her to accept this loss. Raithym didn’t love her, but he did care, and he wanted this child most of all. He promised to care for them both, and he would’ve held true to this.

“Ceron’s son will appear more a brother than a son to Raithym now. It will be difficult, but even more so for Ceron.”

“What are we supposed to do? He’s but four,” Zeta said, nestling Raithym against her breast.

“You are to accept your grandchild as he is. Although he can’t be a son to Raithym, they should remain together. Nurture the bond between them, and help Ceron overcome this loss. Do not allow anger or resentment a place in your heart. The repercussions of your actions could ripple across Faélondul. You’ll all be needed once Raithym’s son is born.”

Zeta continued to shake her head as Angelaris moved away, taking Arinak’s offered hand. “The Protectors will see you safely to Nazil.”