“Back, beast!” Elden cried.
He was moments from transforming into the shade monster’s twin and going a second bout—but something was very wrong with the yeti. It staggered, huffed out a heavy breath, then swayed and fell into a mighty heap. Elden held me back, protecting me from the creature. Upon closer inspection, the creature looked pained, ill.
Like a fork in an over-proofed loaf, the beast began to shrink, shadows writhing around the monster like vines around a stone column. After a matter of only a few heartbeats, the beast fell into shadow, until at last, what lay on the floor of the castle was a handsome male elf with a halo of golden white hair.
The first Elf King of Ravensong, King Theronvere.
I gasped, my hand flying up to my mouth. “Y-your majesty!”
“Grandfather!” Elden raced to the king who lay in a puddle of strange robes from a forgotten time.
Elden cradled the ancient king’s head as the elf coughed. He was strong, handsome, if a bit wane. Dark circles bruised the bottoms of his eyes. His hair hung limply about his shoulders. But he looked young, only a few years older than Elden, though I knew him to be well over a thousand years old. His ornate robes were a deep red with intricately woven gold filigree with a tall white evergreen tree, the same unusual tree, emblazoned on the material. The same symbol I’d seen on so many intricate carvings and designs at Winterthorn.
Coughs wracked through the king as I looked on, awestruck. Elden held on to the king’s hand with care. Once the coughing subsided, the ancient King Theronvere blinked up at the room he now occupied, recognition slowly dawning. He sat up and traced the room with his golden eyes, finally landing on Elden.
Theronvere knit his brows together in confusion and asked. “My son? Handel? Y-you’ve come?”
Elden shook his head where he knelt, emotion misting his eyes. “No. I am not your son, but your grandson, Elden.”
“My grandson?” Theronvere’s confusion wrinkled his stately brow as he took Elden in. “I do not understand all that is occurring, but it seems you have freed me.”
Elden nodded toward where I stood looking on. “It wasn’t me who freed you, but her.”
King Theronvere stood, with a hand from Elden, then fixed me with his beautiful golden eyes. A curious expression crossed his handsome face. A wistful smile. “Elayna?”
Nerves squirmed in my stomach faster than a nest of bees. “No, I am Noelle, a baker from the human realm.” I nodded. “I found this.” I reached in my satchel and pulled out the glass jar of brown nibs, eager to have something to do with my hands. “This is what cured your grandson. This is what cured you.”
“Chocolate?” The old king smiled as if we shared a secret, deep laughter filling his voice. “I do not know what matter of magic you possess, but I do know that it is not the substance, but the heart that matters. My life has been lived in shadows these long years with only moments, bursts of light. I saw you in the throne room. I thought, in my muddled state, that you were my love, Elayna. You have quite the strong right hook with that frying pan.”
Theronvere rubbed at his chin as if he still felt the sting. I blinked in utter amazement.
Elden’s eyes softened as he smiled at me, a tenderness in his gaze.
“Only the strength and magic from one’s true love can bring you back from the brink of death.” King Theronvere looked between Elden’s soft smile and my blush, then grinned, as if pleased. He nodded slowly. “The magic of the treaty has been reinstated. I am glad. Though I would have liked to see my son one last time. I wanted to say that I was so very sorry for pushing him away after the death of his mother. He needed me more than ever, yet I was obsessed. Angry.” He shook his great white head. “I let hate fester for far too long. Forgive me.”
I understood the festering hate, building a protection, a wall against vulnerability. Against feeling. But all I felt now was forgiveness and love pounding through me. Giving me new life.
New purpose. Making my heart grow larger.
The hardest thing was to open up my heart to vulnerability. To allow love to grow again. I learned to let go and would live my life better despite the pain of my past. My future would not be squandered on hate.
The ancient king, so beautiful, so bright, began to fade from sight.
Elden grasped onto Theronvere’s hand, but his fingers slipped right through. “What is happening?”
“I will fade from this life in peace. Forgive me.” Theronvere’s last words hung in the air as he disappeared into nothingness in a brilliant flash of light, leaving Elden standing over nothing but an empty floor.
“He’s gone.” I blinked in disbelief.
“He has passed on to his eternal rest,” Elden said to the echoing silence that followed. “I wonder if my father has done the same.”
Elden was healed, whole, and beautiful, but nothing could stop the pain that etched across his handsome features.
“It took some time for the magic to reach your grandfather,” I said. “Perhaps it will take even longer for it to reach your father in Elkhaven. Perhaps you will have a chance to say goodbye.”
“Perhaps.” Elden offered a sad smile.
I offered one back in return as I fell back onto the red couch, exhaustion aching through every muscle. It had been the treaty all along that sealed the magic of their world to that of the humans. The magic of the elves had caused the desolate lands to be fertile, but the curse stripped that away, little by little, leaving the blight in its wake. The elves’ power had been fading. Human magic all but taken from the land, until me.
