He returned to the storm, uncertain he’d ever left. Despite the horizontal rain pelting like darts into his skin, the howling wind doing everything in its power to strip the clothes and meat from his bones and carry him away, and lightning threatening to strike him down at any moment, he smiled. Bigger and brighter and more manic than he ever had before. His cheeks nearly split. Salted raindrops slipped into his mouth from his cheeks. He closed his eyes, tilted his head back, and laughed. He whooped to the heavens, competing with the wind and thunder.
He knew. He knew! He had a home—a family. Friends. A purpose. A history. A name. A full and proper name! Here, in the place that should have been his death, it had gifted him a new life. And a promise to keep.
He clutched the ring to his chest like a lifeline and attempted to stand. She was out there, alone in the storm. He had to find her.
With more of his body mass exposed, the wind nearly sucked him away into its abyss while simultaneously almost braining him with a flying tree. He flattened himself. Crawling would have to do.
He inched his way through the sludge, ducking pieces of debris flying at him and calling for Aspen. The wind snatched her name away the moment he uttered it, but he kept trying. He didn’t know where he was going, but she had to be somewhere. She wouldn’t have been able to wander far with her wounds.
A faint blue glow in the distance caught his attention. Hoping it wasn’t the residue of lightning flashes in his eyes, he moved toward it, still calling Aspen’s name. The closer he got, the more he saw the vague outline of a person bent double against the gales, dragging a black sword behind them. They held a glowing key before them like a lantern.
“ASPEN!” He threw caution, along with his sanity, to the wind, and ran to her, battling to stay grounded. All the childhood memories of her bubbled inside him like a great flooding fountain. For evergreens and aspen trees. He loved that girl. He loved his friend that laughed and cried and fought with him through everything, and he couldn’t wait to tell her he had made it home. The moment he reached her, he enveloped her in his arms, holding her as close as he could.
Aspen shrieked as if the Pit itself had snatched her. She threw her shoulder beneath his chin, and when he reeled back in surprise, she jammed her elbow beneath his ribs. He happily released her. As she tumbled from his grip, Aspen drew her sword and swung to face him in one deadly arc.
“Aspen! Aspen, it’s me!” he said. He threw up a placating hand, trying to cradle his injured jaw and ribs simultaneously.
For a moment, it seemed the wind had stolen the words away. Aspen’s sword continued to train on him. Her attention darted back and forth, as if she didn’t see him at all, but other monsters. Her entire body trembled with terror or pent-up fight. She blinked once, and whatever nightmare she saw seemed to fade. Her gaze focused on him. The sword drooped at her side. “Tristan?” she asked, almost listlessly.
He shook his head. “Not Tristan,” he said. He took her face in his hands, his grin returning. “I’m back. Aspen, I’m back, and I—”
“Tristan!” The film over her eyes subsided. She pulled him closer and checked him over, hunched against the rain. “Are you hurt?”
“What? No, Aspen, I’m trying to tell you. I—”
She forced him to look her in the eyes. “Tristan, are you hurt?”
“I’m not Tristan, I’m—” He grabbed her hands.
“I don’t care who you think you are right now! Are. You. Hurt?”
“Aspen, I’m fine!” He smiled at her, tears running anew down his cheeks. He wiped a sopping strand of hair from her face. “You don’t have to search anymore. It’s me. It’s Ro.”
The tears. The smiles. The relief. He waited for her to mirror everything that wanted to burst from his body at once.
Instead, she took a step away from him, back rigid against the wind. Against the fear in her eyes. She might have run completely if he didn’t have hold of her hands. “Tristan, if you’re lying—” She took a breath that hitched in her throat. Her lower lip trembled. The rain pelted her skin mercilessly. “If you’re not certain, I will break, and there will be no coming back from that.”
He stepped to her and pressed her to his chest, hoping to dispel every fear he could. “I won’t let that happen. I’m real, and I’m here.” He kissed her temple and withdrew the silver ring beneath his tunic. He put it in her hand and closed her fingers around it. “For evergreens and aspen trees.”
She rolled the ring in her hand, fingers brushing the engravings. She cupped her mouth, choking back a sob and a laugh all at once, and looked at him, eyes shining. The storm seemed to stop at that moment, chased away by the joy on her face. Tristan’s breath fled. It was like watching leaves change from gold to silver—like coming home. Tears poured down his cheeks as he smiled. “I’m sorry I’ve been gone for so long.”
Aspen mirrored his smile, her face aglow.
It was then that Tristan realized the bruises around her neck. Blood poured from her shoulder and a new gash had welled on her temple, and she leaned on a crooked ankle. Horror and fury and guilt raged through him in a wash of emotion. He gripped her by the arms, his heart in his throat. “Aspen, are you all right?” Stupid question. Of course, she wasn’t all right! He had to get her out of the storm. Now.
Aspen’s smile faltered. “I’m—I’m all right. I’m fine,” she said, her voice fading and pain shadowing her face. The blood drained from her cheeks. “Just so long as you’re-you’re safe.”
She collapsed, vomiting blood.