Her heart raced as she unlocked the next door.
Ezer found herself standing right on the edge of a northern wood. The air was crisp with the feeling of fall, her favorite time, even in Rendegard.
The aspens danced in the wind, leaves the color of burnished gold.
Tucked inside them, just at the edge of the wood, was a small cottage with a thatched roof and a white picket fence. And just beyond it, standing in a lovely little garden, was Styerra. Ezer unlatched the gate and approached, her steps soundless.
Styerra held a letter in her hands.
A letter from Ervos.
Ezer would know his handwriting anywhere.
My dearest friend,
I’m not able to visit to tell you in person. But you deserve to know.
Erath has indeed paid his eternal penance.
I know this news will pain you, as it pains me.
Perhaps,in some way, this will give you the freedom to move on.
I will visit soon.
Yours,
E
A single tear rolled down Styerra’s cheek as she turned away and placed her trembling hands over her belly.
The ring from Erath was still on her finger.
It winked in the sunlight as she headed inside.
Ezer entered another door.
This time she was back at the cottage, while Styerra and Ervos tended to the flowers in the garden. A baby Ezer slept soundly in a basket beside them. She was perfect, with round cheeks and not a mark of claws upon them.
Butterflies danced through the spring foliage. A chicken scratched at the ground, searching for bugs.
And a raven sat perched in a tree overhead, watching Ezer’s basket like a guardian.
Styerra was laughing, her smile bright as Ervos tucked a flower behind her ear. She smiled and stood on tiptoe to press a kiss to his cheek.
She paused.
And then, slowly, questioningly … she kissed him on the lips.
Ervos gasped against her.
‘I … I’m sorry,’ Styerra said and pulled away. Ezer noticed, then, how she still wore Erath’s ring. Styerra reached down to it almost instinctively, twisting it with worried fingertips. ‘I don’t know what came over me.’
Ervos looked up, his mouth frozen open like he was lost for words.
‘Please don’t make it weird,’ Styerra said.
‘Why would I make it weird?’ Ervos asked, raising his red brows. ‘I think … that I might live the rest of my life in wanting, Styerra, if you don’t kiss me again.’
