“My son came!” His dying laugh is a sound I’ll never forget. “My son came back for me! Niles, my boy. My boy is here.”
I drop my face to Chekiss’s shoulder and just cry. Happy he is not alone as death greets him. But already mourning my dear friend. My tears stain his sleeping gown. And Chekiss reaches for me, holding my upper body to his chest in a tight hug.
I hear a single wet rasp enter his chest.
His fingers loosen.
Chekiss dies in my arms.
And the world goes on without him.
80. Neslanox
Skylenna
Three Years Later
DaiSzek scares off three moreteenagers.
I’m embarrassed to say it upset me more now than it usually does. They come often, the unwanted visitors. Children, teenagers, and even adults. They have put on theater performances of our lives, Dessin’s, mine, and DaiSzek’s. And all it’s done is turn our home into a museum. Into a circus for freaks.
These three boys came poking around my front porch first, then found me planting flowers in front of Chekiss and Niles’s graves.
Kane was out chopping wood.
And I have been an emotional wreck since he returned. No one was hurt. DaiSzek scared the actual piss out of them, but I fell to my knees as they asked whose headstones I was visiting. Not necessarily an evil question. But today is Chekiss’s birthday.
And I am so tired of living in a fishbowl.
“Now, please,” Dessin commands sternly, opening the front door to our guests.
Our children, grandchildren, Warrose, Ruth, and Marilynn file inside. The kids who can run off to play, do so eagerly. Krimson holds a four-month-old in his arms, swaying the little boy back and forth as he sleeps.
“During our time in Vexamen, Aunt Marilynn shared a story about DaiSzek and Knightingale, the fae and elven warriors. Before they died, Marilynn, can you share with everyone what their dream was?” Dessin says, standing in front of the seating area by the fireplace.
“Yes, uh—” She adjusts the glasses on the bridge of her nose. “DaiSzek and Knightingale had a dream of ending up on a private island called Neslanox. They wanted to grow old together there, away from everyone after everything they sacrificed.”
Warrose and Ruth spin to me first.
“Wait,” Ruth spits out. “You’re not thinking…”
“Dessin?” Warrose asks.
“A few teenagers harassed my wife while she was planting flowers at Niles and Chekiss’s graves this morning. Alkadon has sent a letter requesting to meet Skylenna, me, and DaiSzek. No doubt to ask for our help in another war.”
The room goes utterly still.
“Skylenna and I have talked about this for a while, and even though we love our lives here. We love the Red Oak house. We love being so close to everyone… We need to go somewhere to live out the rest of our lives where only you all can follow.”
Dessin walks over to me, holding out his hand. I take it with knots in my stomach, anticipating how everyone will take this next part.
“And where is that?” Niklaus asks.
“Somewhere only Krimson and Sapphire have the keys to,” I answer.
The relief and joy for our decision outweighs the sadness. Our family rises to approach Dessin and me, surrounding us with hugs. With congratulations. With excitement to see where we end up.
Because we have twins that have the ability to time travel.
