Up and down the white stone streets.
Back and forth and back again, she walked.
She always waited until the quietest hours of the night, when fewer folks would be out, when she was less likely to be recognized. Alas, even with her wings under the constant cloak of her magic and a hood drawn tight over her periwinkle hair, inevitably, someone usually noticed her.
She still didn’t like the attention, the stares that didn’t bother to be subtle, the conversations that stalled the second she turned the corner. Admittedly, it felt different now. Not quite the same fear-filled apprehension she’d encountered as the Revenant. Rather, the Victor of Nyrundelle commanded adoration. Veneration.
She hated it just as much.
It made her feel just as alone.
Elyria turned her gaze inward, and though she told herself she shouldn’t, though she knew better, she searched for that golden thread.
She didn’t find it.
When Cedric died, the thread snapped. She felt it go limp, fade within her in the same moment he fell away. And whatever vestige of light had remained in him, that final flickering ember that she’d used totughim back to life, she didn’t think it was tied to her anymore.
Was it ever?she wondered.
She didn’t know where it came from. Didn’t know why from the instant she and Cedric set foot in the Sanctum they’d been drawn towardeach other. Didn’t know what it meant that she felt emptier now than ever before.
Or maybe she did know, but she wouldn’t allow herself to dwell on it.
The palest raysof light were just starting to peek through the darkened sky as she returned to the estate. She was so lost in thought, so busy searching through the many shadowed layers of herself, that she didn’t even notice the two figures lurking on the doorstep of the main house until she was almost upon them.
One was impossibly tall, a placid expression stretched over indigo skin, dawn’s gray light highlighting the curved horns wrapping around either side of their head. The other was broad, squat, and only reached Elyria’s chest, a massive hammer leaning against the wall at his side.
“Wh-what are you two doing here?” Genuine shock rang through Elyria’s voice.
“Not a bad place ye’ve got here, Rev,” Thraigg said, gravelly voice familiar and warm.
“A bit ostentatious for my taste, but to each their own,” added Nox.
Elyria arched a brow. “Uh, thanks?”
Nox grinned, flashing a hint of fang.
“Not that I’m not, um”—Elyria thought for a moment about what word to use—“pleased to see you, but again, what are you doing here?” She didn’t know why she was whispering.
Thraigg slung his hammer up behind his head, bracing the handle behind his neck. “Figured ye might be wanting to do something about that crown. And about...” Elyria didn’t have to be a mindwielder to know he was struggling with saying Zephyr’s name. They’d all had a hard time dealing with the truth of what she’d done, all been hurt by her actions, but in the days after the Crucible ended, it became clear that Thraigg was taking it even more personally than the rest.
Nox nodded. “Kit sent for us.”
Elyria’s second brow joined the other at the top of her forehead, both of them now lifted in surprise. “What? Why?”
“Word came from the king earlier today. You didn’t seem to be inthe right mood to receive it.” Kit’s voice was smug as she flitted through the open window over the house’s entrance and landed deftly between Thraigg and Nox.
Surprise stole Elyria’s initial response. Then, she said, “Liar. I was in a perfectly receptive mood.”
Kit’s blue eye twinkled as she folded her gold-and-silver wings against her back. “Fine, maybe I just wanted to be able to enjoy the drama of this little reunion. It’s been rather boring around here lately, not sure if you’ve noticed.”
Elyria nearly choked on the derisive laugh that formed in her gut. She stared at the three ex-champions for a long moment. Finally, she turned back to the nocterrian and the dwarf. “Why would you come help? Why do you care?”
“For fuck’s sake, lass.” Thraigg shook his head, the ornaments in his woven beard jingling. “I’m starting to doubt yer being ‘pleased’ to see us after all. Do we not have unfinished business here, same as ye?”
The nocterrian shrugged, a bafflingly casual gesture that seemed out of place in their body. “We cannot let Malchior get his hands on celestial power. And we all know you’re the only one who can get it back.”
Elyria did not, in fact, know she was theonly onewho could do this, but she sure as all four hells was going to be the one who tried.
