“No,” Alarik whispered. “She never was.”
Serenya stepped closer, crossing her arms. “Then why do you look like a king who just lost a piece of his board?”
Alarik didn’t answer for a long moment.
When he did, his voice was almost broken. “Because I played her like one.”
The flames crackled and in the distance, the now-blooming tree within the temple glowed faintly through the ruined arch.
He had promised himself to save his people. To outwit Kael. To use whatever power he could to unravel the gods’ grip on Calanthe. But now, watching her barefoot in the sand, crowned in bone and light he realized what a dangerous game he’d been playing.
Because Maris was no longer a tool.
No longer a weapon to wield or a fate to manipulate.
She was sovereign.
He would not win her with strategy or dreams.
Still… he would try.
And if he failed,
He couldn’t bring himself to finish the thought.
Because whether she chose him or not.
Alarik knew as clearly as he knew the weight of his sword:
He would follow her. To war. To the ends of Achyron. To the stars, if she asked it.
-Maris-
The stars had begun to scatter across dim sky.
Maris had abandoned the encampment to avoid the stares of awe and horror.
She knew she made them uncomfortable.
So she came back once more, drawn to the soft hum of the silver-veined tree. Campfires flickered on the coastline behind her, shadows moving like ghosts among the ship, as restoration went on into the night. But here just beyond the tree’s roots and the cracked altar, there was quiet.
Not empty or tense.
Steady.
It lived inside her now.
The wildfire had gone, yes, but it had not left her barren. Her power thrummed low and warm beneath her skin like something finally tamed. No longer an uncontrollable blaze. No longer foreign.
Hers.
She exhaled and tilted her head to the sky, watching the breathless clouds churn above the cliffs.
I am not broken. I never was.
Her thoughts wandered to Alarik, first. As they often did now, unbidden.
She remembered the look on his face when he dropped to his knees. That terrible, beautiful reverence in his eyes.
