Of my death. Of someone else’s, perhaps.
Although at this point, I don’t know if the physical pain I cause is any worse than what we’ve done to each other, or the grief I’ve caused.
I can’t tell if his shields are in place, blocking my feelings, but I know we aren’t the same two people as when we arrived in Nehandun.
When Novandia is at his highest peak, we finally reach a part of Estereah I recognise. Our house was set apart and away from the main trade paths, but not far enough away to keep us completely hidden. We traded in goods, trinkets, and useful tools and items. Lyle kept us away from scrutiny, but we still carved out a living, if a meagre one.
I never explored far, but I recognise the patch of trees near the stream. This is the area where I ventured as a child and was rewarded with a small quartz pebble from the riverbank.
A smile emerges on my lips, and I resettle myself in the saddle of my horse, digging my heels into his flanks. He takes off into a canter, and I cling to the reins, hoping I’ll be able to steer him the short way towards the small clearing I called home.
“Ever!” Ten shouts after me, but I’m not confident enough to turn around in the saddle, so I grip tighter and leave Ten to follow with Kalan.
The cottage will come into view… any… minute… now.
There it is.
The sight—the simple view—steals the air from my lungs, the sentiment of it hitting me right in the chest.
It hasn’t changed.
This is the same as I’ve always known.
Tears. Tears full of hurt cascade from my eyes, leaving them stinging and distorting my vision. They run unchecked, and I do not care. The emotion gathers force, like a storm, building clouds and pressure, and threatening to crack and spark at any moment. It fills the space that the well of my power once occupied, the now-empty space in the centre of me. It crackles with tension, impossible for me to forget as I ride to a stop and heave in gulps of air, not concerned with gaining any control.
Lyle bursts out of the door, standing stock still on the little step and looking right at me.
“Ever,” her voice sings to me, as I swing my leg from the horse and jump down, sprinting right for her.
Regardless of the risk of my power hurting her, Lyle swings her arms around me, binding me to her in the biggest, strongest hug of my life. And I gave it back with everything I have.
My tears haven’t abated. They continue to stream with vigour, and I still don’t care or try to hide them. I’ve been strong for so long. I’ve been brave. I’ve been defiant and stood up to my fears and everything else that has come for me over the last few months.
But being wrapped in my mother’s arms, I am helpless and have no desire to put on a brave face. I crumble, her arms melting away any strength and resolve I’ve garnered, dissolving into the little girl I was when the world was no bigger than the house we stand in front of.
Funny, I’ve never called her my mother before. But, here, now, after uncovering the truths of my past and my parents, it’s now, when I know her name and what she did, that I see Lyle for everything she is to me. Regardless of the lies she told or secrets she kept. Those were for my benefit. Myprotection.
With all the uncertainty around everything else in my world, Lyle is a cornerstone I’ve pushed aside due to my hurt. And given that I have no magic now, maybe I can come back.
My chest burns fiercely with an ache I can’t ignore as I hug her, gripping her tighter and breathing in the relief that my magic isn’t there, threatening. Allowing me to touch and hug without the fear of what I might do to them as a result is a gift, but doesn’t deaden the ache. It takes root in that space in my chest, refusing to leave, as if hearing my thoughts of my magic and reminding me of the loss I’ve suffered.
Would I want to mend it?
As we pull apart from our embrace, I hear Ten and Kalan approach, the hooves and snorts of the horses announcing them.
Lyle’s eyes drift over to the men, and her whole body stiffens at the sight of Kalan.
“He is not welcome.” She takes a step around me, putting herself between Kalan and me.
“It’s okay, Lyle. He helped get us out. He’s on our side.”
“You might have made your peace with him, Ever. I have not.” She turns to look at me, sadness shadowing her striking blue eyes. There is a lot for us to talk over, but I sense now isn’t the time. She squeezes my hand before she heads back into the cottage, leaving me outside. As I follow her to the door, I see Kyra and Calix. The sight of them eases something wound tight around my chest. But as soon as I take a breath of relief, the grief of both their losses sweeps back in, blowing the flicker of hope out.
“Where’s Crim?
“Calix—” I start, but Ten interrupts me with his hand on my shoulder. His weight and presence ground me as I look at my friend and see the confusion cross his face.
“I’ll do it, Ever. Go to Kyra,” his whisper is only for me as he plants a kiss against my temple and passes me, heading for his friend.
