I snatch the air from a nearby Airist, pushing a fierce gust underneath the king. Sweat runs down my face as I pull every ounce of their power to me. It doesn’t matter if I take too much, if I cause harm to the Khiros. I must save Micah. My hands tremble before me as I command enough wind to hold his weight. I fall to my knees. Gnashing my teeth, I concentrate on lowering him into the waiting arms of several guards. They place him on the ground and blood pools around them. Terro crouches at the king’s side, pressing his hands to the wounds. The pressure isn’t enough to stanch the flow.
Micah gasps for breath and reaches for Borin. His husband falls to his knees with tears trail down his face. Never have I seen him so fragile, so broken. He grasps the king’s hand and presses it to his chest.
“You will be all right, my love. You will be all right,” Borin cries, his words void of reassurance but a desperate plea.
A faint smile pulls at Micah’s lips, and peace lingers in his tender gaze. He lifts a trembling hand to Borin’s cheek, slowly brushing his thumb over his tear-soaked skin. His voice is steady as he says, “Let kingdomsburn and all the Statera’s power return to the stars. None of it matters to me. You are the air that filled my lungs and just as vital as the blood that coursed through my veins. I was created and lived for you, my darling.”
Borin shakes his head, his tears a never-ending stream. “And I was made to stand by your side and shower you with my unyielding love and adoration. Please don’t leave me.”
My fingertips dig into the hard ground, desperately trying to hold my crumbling world together. This isn’t Micah’s end, this isn’t the day I lose my godfather, my king, my friend. If only I can stop the world from spinning and rotate it the other way, maybe then I can undo this atrocity, stop us from being victims to the cruel devices of death.
“Raelle?” My name is soft and gurgled on Micah’s tongue.
I crawl forward. Every movement my body makes fractures my heart and obliterates my hope. The pink has left his lips, and his beautiful green eyes grow glassy. Death is coming for him, and I can’t stop this monster. I can’t slash its throat or plunge my blade into its belly. It won’t battle me for his life, but like the lying cheat it is, death will steal this man from me.
Blood trickles from the corner of Micah’s mouth as he releases Borin’s hand to place his on the top of my head. “I pray the Statera bless your reign. May you rule Lucent with wisdom, compassion, and love.”
“No. Please, no,” I sob, my heart ripping apart inside my chest. I won’t believe it. Death can’t have him. I still need him here.
“I love you like my own flesh and blood, Raelle. You are destined for greatness. You will restore Pliris.”
His words are foreign to me. How can he continue to have faith in me? I’ve failed him time and time again. Disobeyed his commands, ran away from my duties. I couldn’t simply pull him away from this battle. Yet, I’m to unite a broken kingdom? I’m not ready for this. He needs to stay.Statera, please let him stay.
Micah’s head lolls to the other side, where Kyron takes a knee next to Terro.
The Stigian prince places his bloody fist over his heart and bows his head. Sweat and blood drip from his black hair and claws have slashed through the arm of his uniform. His shoulders slump with the heavy weight of exhaustion, but his sadness rules all else. “My king,” he says, his voice thick with emotion.
Kyron will one day rule his own kingdom, but this is the sovereignhe has known most of his life. Micah is the man who shares his bloodline, the uncle who hid him with the hope that his mother’s influence would not taint his soul. The means were not perfect, but the result was. Micah’s actions made Kyron who he is.
“The battle is over?” Micah asks.
“For now, but you don’t need to worry about that,” Kyron whispers.
“I wish I could go back and act as the father figure you deserved, but I am glad you had Abrum.”
“You gave me a life I would have never had under my mother’s rule. Thank you, Uncle,” Kyron says, brushing the beads of perspiration from Micah’s head.
The king catches Kyron’s hand and brings it to the center of his chest with mine. Our fingers intertwine and he encases our hold with both of his quaking hands. “I read the pledge you sent me, Nephew. I trust you would lay down your crown at her feet, but that is not what I want.”
Micah coughs and blood bubbles from his lips. Borin whimpers and lifts his head into his lap. The king regent wipes away the blood and runs his fingers over his husband’s dark hair, giving him the strength to finish his words.
Heaving for his next breath, Micah says, “Rule together. Let your love mend our broken kingdom and may your bond prove that Cyffreds and Khiros are stronger as equal parts.”
“I swear by the Statera,” Kyron says without hesitation.
I nod, and my tears fall on Micah’s chest. “May the Statera bind this promise.”
I’m not ready to make promises about my rule. Just minutes ago, it felt so far away. I had a healthy king who would reign for decades to come. There was still time for mistakes, and I was free of any true responsibility. Now, there’s just this last moment to say goodbye before I step in the life I’ve spent twenty years preparing for.
Micah’s eyes roll into the back of his head, and time slips through my fingers. So many things I wish I would have said, questions I wanted answered. Gone. Gone. Gone.
Micah wheezes, “Let it be.”
Kyron’s fingers tighten around mine, and that simple gesture is what I grasp onto. I find the strength to say farewell to the man who found me fit to be more than a powerless being. The Statera spoke to him when I wasborn, told him I would do remarkable things. And he blindly believed it. He believed inme.
Borin leans forward and presses a kiss to Micah’s forehead. His back rattles with a silent cry as he whispers, “Until we meet on the other side, my love.”
Micah stills, and a long final breath leaves his body.
