19
Time passed.
And Ezer minded the raphonbeautifully.With every ounce of determination in her soul, until Kinlear was certain she could carry on into the future without him. He told her of their plans, their mission...but not that she would be the rider.
He wouldn’t. Not untilSixdid the choosing. To interfere with the natural rhythm of their bond? It felt worse than sinning, worse than paying any amount of penance.
It was her path to take.
He wouldn’t step on it...not in that, at least.
By day, she worked with the raphon. And by night, she trained with the younglings... in part, because Kinlear wondered if she would Settle into her magic.
He still didn’t know who her father was, but he wouldn’t take that chance from her, either. It was for the gods to decide which pillar they might push her in.
The downside was his brother. He saw the way Arawn looked at her. He saw how he trailed after her -- or, in Arawn’s trademark way, stomped...the way he’d once done with Soraya.
Kinlear wouldn’t think a thing of it.
He wouldn’t allow himself to slide into that dangerous thing calledjealousy,because it made a man weak.
And Kinlear needed every ounce of strength he could get. His cough was getting worse. As the days passed, he found himself sitting far more than he found himself standing while he watched her work...even after the chains were removed, and Six was well and trulyfreewith Ezer inside the cage.
He tried to stay strong, stay present.
He’d expected to wake up seeing her, eager to bring her a gift to thank her for her boldness, for he wasn’t a monster. He could play the proper prince, too...could begin to show her the gentler side of his soul...
He never made it to the catacombs.
He fell out of bed, on a particularly frigid morning in Augaurde.
His legs were too weak to hold him. The cough came on as it often did, too strong to fight off, and he knew he was fading, tumblingfastinto another episode of his illness.
No,he begged the gods.Please, let me stay here a while longer. Let me see what lies ahead, let me taste it, let me?—
He couldn’t hang on.
He scribbled a note to her, as hastily as one could, and left it by his bedside, trusting that his servant would get the note to Ezer.
And then he crawled into his bed, heaving for breath that would not come.
And wondered if today was the day he would finally die.
He woke in the sky.
Falling, as he always did, towards his future.
He saw the same visions, felt the same descent. He’d gotten used to the flashes of his past, for now many of the things he’d seen had come to pass.
Like his father, growing old and feeble as he deserved.
Like Arawn, tearing through the sky after the winged figure he now knew to be Soraya.
At that part, Kinlear now looked away.
He refused to stare at the evidence of his failure, a vision he hadn’t seen or understood until it was already too late.
The sky shifted, and he saw the rest of his visions play out, as before. Ezer on the cliffside, standing beside a prouder and older version of Six. And there was his hellish mother again, reminding him of how unworthy she thought him to be.
