Page 150 of Aryn

Brihn forces a bittersweet smile, fighting a wobble in his bottom lip. “When you’re the heroes of the worlds, don’t forget to come visit every once in a while.”

“You couldn’t keep me away if you tried,” Aryn promises, pulling him into another long hug. “We will see each other again. I know it.”

Brihn’s tears flow freely as he pulls back, swiping at them with the back of his hand before turning to me. He holds up the second ring and places it in my palm, closing my fingers around it.

“For you, Cato,” he says, voice cracking. “To welcome you to the family. You’re one of us now.”

Family.

My eyes sting as I look down at the ring. “Thank you,” I manage, voice rough. “For everything.”

With one last look and a few quiet words, Brihn and his people turn toward Maelithryne. We watch them go until they’re nearly swallowed by the ridge, the falling snow erasing their tracks. They pause, mere specks in the distance, but they throw their hands up in one final wave.

And then they’re gone.

Aryn stays silent for a long moment, staring after them. I reach over and take his hand, squeezing gently. He squeezes back, but I can feel the ache running through him.

“We’ll come back,” I say softly, tugging him into a hug.

He rests his head on my shoulder and presses a gentle kiss over the scar from his bite. “Promise?” he whispers.

For a moment, I don’t answer. Aryn doesn’t want empty reassurances or insincere words just to make him feel better.

But this isn’t that.

Elyra is my home now, too.

I know it with the same certainty I know the shape of my own bones, the same way I know the steady rhythm of Aryn’s heartbeat against mine in the quiet hours of the night. This world has carved itself into me—its cold, its wonders, its pain, and its impossible beauty. No matter what waits for us on the other side of the rift, a part of me will always belong here.

With him.

“I promise.”

Aryn

The journey back toward the rift feels different this time. We’re more prepared, and the dark stretches of forest are less daunting now. The Viskari are in panic mode, our supplies are plentiful, and traveling on sylvarenback makes the trek much faster than before. The mounts also keep predators at bay, so there’s less fear of an attack.

On the second day, we ask for a quick detour. The guards seem annoyed by the request, though Ailynor appears amused as we explain we would like to visit the Khileon farm that took us in when we first arrived. She reminds her guards the people who live this remotely don’t receive the same benefits as those in the cities, and that it would do them all some good to remember their privilege. They duck their heads, chastised, though one of them tosses a glare at Cato’s smirk.

A couple of hours pass before the trees part and the farm stretches out before us. Despite our short stay, the home is familiar. Smoke curls from the chimneys and kravache graze in the distant fields. The zarrok circle the livestock, eyeing us warily.

Thulga and Grimhild come bursting out of the door, her with an apron around her middle and him with his axe slung over his shoulder. Both look positively murderous until they spot our crew, and then Thulga’s face splits into a wide smile.

“Well, this is a surprise,” she says with a hearty chuckle as she takes long strides forward. “We thought we’d never see you again!”

Lillith hops down first and pulls her into a hug, and the rest of us greet the couple with heavy handshakes and warm embraces. Thulga’s gaze shifts past us, her expression shifting from welcoming to stunned when she spots Ailynor.

“My Vaelor,” Thulga breathes, bowing deeply. “We are honored.”

Ailynor dismounts with graceful authority. “The honor is mine. I hear you gave shelter and kindness to my son and his companions. For that, you have my gratitude.”

“Your son?” Thulga asks, eyes wide as they swing to Ronan.

“It’s a long story,” he says with an amused grin. “But we didn’t want to pass through without stopping by to say hello.”

The Khileon couple is flustered, but gracious. They insist on hosting us for a hot meal despite the short notice. We gather inside their home, and Thulga drags a reluctantly shy Mezie into the room to join us. The family is just as welcoming as before, and even more curious, asking endless questions about the capital and our journey.

Ailynor is surprisingly personable. Some leaders think themselves to be above small talk, but she chats and laughs easily with the others. They share stories of the farm and its history, and Ailynor states she’ll have her quartermaster reach out to purchase vark for her soldiers.