Boaz approaches his chair without hesitation, the one bearing his name in elegant flowing script. These seats have supported us through council and crisis. He lowers himself into his designated seat with a sigh of familiarity.
The moment he makes contact, the wood seems to glow beneath him. A gasp tears from his throat—not of pain but shock. Golden light travels up his arms, encircling his stone-grey limbs. The petrification that has been creeping ever higher suddenly recedes like a tide pulling back from shore, revealing healthy flesh beneath.
I stare, transfixed. For years we've watched the stone claim more of him, faster and faster. How many times had I caught Boaz staring at his greying hands with quiet despair? How many flasks of ambrosia had we emptied together, knowing they offered only temporary reprieve?
"I don’t believe it," Boaz stares at his hands in disbelief, turning them over as tears stream freely down his face. "It's completely gone. The stone is gone. It’s been so long… I didn’t realize the table could help."
Wraith moves quickly to his own chair, dropping into it with eager recognition. The effect is immediate—the shadows beneath his eyes fade, his posture straightening as energy visibly flows into him. "I feel like I've slept for a week," he says, voice stronger than I've heard in months.
I approach my seat with a sense of homecoming. As I settle into the wooden chair that bears my name, warmth floods through me. The constant, clawing presence of the wolf—the beast that's been fighting for control every waking moment—suddenly quiets to a gentle hum. For the first time in years, I feel... whole. Balanced. The wolf is still there, still part of me, but no longer fighting against my control.
"Yggdrasil is giving us strength," Hawke says, taking his own seat at what would be considered the head of the table, though the circular arrangement makes such distinctions meaningless. "To continue the fight."
"Look," Wraith points to the sword fragment in the stone. It pulses now. "Is it responding to our presence?"
Hawke stands and approaches the stone altar, stopping just short of touching it. "When Melinda and I bonded, this piece appeared. When my soul was made whole and joined with hers."
"And every time one of us finds our mate and bonds?—"
"Another piece of the sword will return," Wraith finishes, the implication hanging heavy in the air.
"And as the sword rebuilds..." Boaz stares at the cracked barrier containing the Queen.
"The seal weakens," Jarlath concludes, his golden eyes reflecting the pulsing light of the sword fragment. “And Aena becomes more powerful.”
The castle shudders violently beneath us, dust raining from the ceiling. Through the widest crack, the Queen's eyes appear again. Wild. Angry. Haunting.
Each reunion brings her closer to freedom.
"We've made a terrible mistake," Wraith says quietly, still seated at the table, his hands no longer trembling with exhaustion. "Our salvation comes at the cost of her freedom."
"Perhaps that was always the bargain," Hawke replies, his expression solemn. "We bought the universe nearly five hundred years. It was never going to last forever."
The implication sits heavy between us. To save ourselves—to find our mates, to break our curses—we will potentially release something far worse on the whole universe. Except there’s no guarantee. We’ve triggered a change. Quitting now doesn’t mean the queen will stop destroying the castle.
“It changes nothing,” Jarlath says, crossing his arms over his chest.
“How can you say that,” Wraith snarls. “It changes everything. We can’t do this. We should stop.”
No. Not acceptable.
“And do what? Put you down? Your sister would never forgive me and neither would Yggdrasil. The World Tree calls Knights, not kings. It is not my place to say otherwise, Wraith.”
“And I won’t let that come for those I love,” he shouts back, pointing at the outline of the cell door.
“She’s already coming,” I growl.
"What if Wraith is right?" Boaz asks, studying his healed hands. "If finding our mates frees the Queen..."
"No. You must continue," Hawke says firmly. "You don’t know that the Queen won’t be freed whether we all find our mates or not. Fen is right. She’s already coming. We can’t stop now."
“And our mates may literally be the key to stopping Aena. We won't know until we find them. This is a risk we can’t afford not to take, Wraith," I say, rising slowly from my seat.
Wraith shakes his head. "We still don't know who or what the Queen truly is."
“Yggdrasil brought Melinda to me. She was not a mistake. We must be the Knights we were called to be and have faith. The Universe is crying to be made whole again. First our souls then we save the world again.”
“Agreed,” Boaz says, his voice stronger than I’ve heard it in months.
