At first,there was nothing.
Not the biting cold, not the dull numbness of death, not the weight of the blade in his chest.
Just a quiet emptiness.
Oblivion.
And then, there was light.
A flicker, distant at first, a firefly dancing in a faraway field. It flew closer, grew stronger, brighter, until it was everywhere. Searing warmth poured through him, heating his blood, setting his veins alight. And he felt himself being pulled back into his body, a tether fastening him to this world.
Cedric gasped, a ragged breathfilling his lungs.
He wasn’t sure if he was alive. It wasn’t like before, floating in that murky in-between. This time, Cedric was certain beyond a doubt that he had died.
His eyes flew open. He blinked against the blinding brightness of the world, ribbons of gold and silver flashing in his vision. His heart beat a slow, steady rhythm beneath his ribs. And there she was, trembling hands pressed to his chest, her face hovering above him, eyes wide and wet with tears and disbelief.
“Elyria.” Her name broke from his lips like a prayer.
She didn’t move. For a second, Cedric wondered if this was a dream—a single moment, frozen, for him to remember. His final gift before passing into the Hereafter. Then, without a word, Elyria pulled him into an embrace, her arms snaking around his waist, locking behind him.
Real.
She was real.
And he was back.
He coughed, clearing the lingering stain of death from his voice. “We must stop meeting like this. Eventually, you’ll have to stop saving me,” he murmured.
Elyria’s laugh was broken, choked with relief as she lifted her head just enough to look him in the eye. “No,” she said, a trembling smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. “No, I don’t think I will.”
Cedric wrapped his arms around her, drawing her back into place, her face cradled where his neck and shoulder met. He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, holding her as tightly as his recovering strength allowed, the feel of her grounding him, knotting that tether in his chest, binding him to the here, the now.
The last time he’d touched her like this, it had been a goodbye.
For several long moments, neither of them said a word. They simply sat there, tangled in one another, taking in breath after breath. And finally, not because he wanted to, but because he had to, he looked down.
Cedric’s brow furrowed as he peered at the place where he’d pierced his own heart. There was a hole in his tunic where the jewel-hilted dagger should still be embedded in his chest, but that was all. No scar. No blood. No pain. All he felt now was that smolder of his inner flame, its embers crackling back to life.
“How?” he asked. “I died. I should be dead. Iwasdead.”
“I know,” Elyria whispered. “I felt you go.” She unhooked her hands from his waist, and it was only then that Cedric noticed she had something clutched in one of them. Static sparked in the spot where the pointed spires of the crown grazed against his tunic as she drew it up to show him. “I guess even half of a celestial-forged crown was enough to pull you back from the brink.”
Well past the brink, Cedric thought with a shudder, before her words registered. “Half?”
Elyria sat back on her ankles, holding the half-crown in her lap, and Cedric saw the places on either side where the crescent of gold was broken, its edges jagged and sharp.
“Yes, half.” A chorus of voices rang out behind them, and Cedric turned to look over his shoulder at the white-robed celestial standing there. Aurelia’s gaze was fixed on the two of them, the galaxies on her skin swirling, churning—agitated. “And though I delight in seeing you breathing once more, Cedric Thorne, this should not have been possible.”
“What do you mean?” Elyria asked, her tone guarded, hackles raised. Like she was afraid Aurelia would take him from her. The thought made the corners of Cedric’s eyes prick.
Aurelia looked truly baffled, her brows drawn together tightly over her star-filled eyes. Cedric had a difficult time reconciling the thoroughlyhumanexpression with the celestial’s otherwise otherworldliness.
“I do not know,” Aurelia said, her layered voice strained, like it pained her to admit as much. “I cannot explain how you are alive.”
Elyria stood, helping Cedric to his feet before turning to face the celestial. “The crown has done this before.”
Cedric’s gaze flicked between Elyria’s face and the half-crown, the faintest buzz of power pulling him toward both in equal measure. It took a moment for her words to sink in. Who else had the crown brought back to life?
