Her room was replaced by scorched dirt. In the distance sat a village. Grim of the past was just yards away, battling a sea of dreks. His shadows were faltering. He wouldn’t make it much longer.
Grim stopped in his tracks, almost forgetting his opponent next to him. He watched as Isla appeared there, next to the scar. As past Grim realized there was only one way she could have gotten there without her starstick.
Love. She had access to his abilities. Past Grim seemed at peace then, ready to accept his own death. He was about to portal Isla away, to save her.
But then—claws pierced right through his chest.
Past Isla bellowed in pain. And without a moment’s hesitation, she plunged Cronan’s sword into the ground and gave herself overcompletely, her power spilling out of her like a tidal wave. Uncontrollable and infinite, just like their love.
She collapsed to the ground. Past Grim rushed to catch her.
Current Grim watched, stoic and unmoving, as she died in his arms. As his past self made that same sacrifice for her.
As the scene faded into the next one, Grim did not move. He just stood, his hands trembling at his sides, like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to strike Isla again or drop his blade.
Isla stepped toward him. His back was tense as the memories shifted from nights in his room, to finding Wraith, to him proposing to her in the glimmering violet field of nightbane.
To their wedding.
Her fingers reached for his. She reached forhim. The same way she had reached for him countless times before. The same way she always would.
But inches from his skin, he turned in a flash, and she barely blocked a blow as their blades clashed once more. She gritted her teeth, pushing against him, but he didn’t budge. In the sparks that their swords were producing, she could see his face clearly, through the darkness. His expression was twisted in strain, but something told her it wasn’t just from holding back her sword. He was fighting this. He was fightinghimself.
“You loved me,” she said, groaning as she put all her strength behind her blade. They were equally matched. Unmoving. Both unyielding. “Look.Look.”
But he refused. He didn’t take his eyes off his opponent as he bared his teeth and the forest flashed in memory after memory. The scenes were forming quicker now, flickering through all the moments since their marriage, all the times their love was tested and proven. Grim roared as he spun to the side, Isla’s sword shooting forward into the space where he had been. She whirled to block his next advance before his blade could strike her neck.
And as their swords met once more, as they continued to duel in the center of their love story, Isla noticed that their blades, with every crackling clash, were slowly starting to bleed into each other. The shadows of his weapon melted into hers, and her stars merged with his darkness, forming constellations. The space between them was blurring, uniting.Melding.
It was working. No matter what he said. No matter how fiercely he fought her right now.
The memories swirled around them even faster, feeding off Isla’s desperation as she used everything Cronan had taught her, turning the pain into the power to show Grim everything he had forgotten. She gave him every single moment, just as she remembered it—until their past shattered, a thousand leaves spinning around them, blocking the rest of the forest from view. The world fell away. The entire universe vanished. It was just them. The way they had always dreamed.
“We gave our lives for each other,” she said, yelling over the roaring of the wind, her hair whipping wildly around her. “I love you. In the past, and in the present, and in the future, I love you. In this world, and the last, and every one in between, I love you.”
Instead of advancing once more, instead of wielding her blade against him—
She let it flicker out into nothing. Until she was defenseless.
This could be the last mistake she ever made.
Grim still held his sword tightly. But he did not strike. His eyes met hers, and they were blazing with intensity. He was breathing hard.
He could cut her down where she stood, but still, she walked toward him. One step. Another. Until she reached for the hand that still clutched his blade.
“I love you,” she said again, the words so soft, they got lost in the wind, but she knew he heard her. Her fingers gently brushed along his wrist, and he shut his eyes, tightly, as if her touch both burned and healed him. She shifted even closer. “I love you, even if you don’tremember. Even if you never will. Even if you strike me down right now, I love you. This is not the end. There is no end. Our love is infinite, just like you said.”
Infinite. The word was like a key. His eyes snapped open.
And the shadow sword fell away.
Slowly, the hand that just moments ago wielded a weapon against her now reached toward her face.
Isla didn’t dare hope. Didn’t dare breathe. But as his fingers gently slid against her cheek, she finally let herself cry.
“Grim,” she said, her voice breaking.
His thumb brushed away her tears. She wanted to fall to her knees in relief at the tenderness of that touch. “You remember,” she said. “You...see.”
