He hurries forward, nearly tripping over the hem of his robes, and begins fussing with a stack of parchment tucked under one arm. “Mind your boots, if you please. The floor remembers every footstep, and I’d rather not track in destiny with the mud.”
He waves his quill at us like a conductor’s baton, already half-turned back to the shelves as if they call to him by invisible threads. Then he pauses, blinking at me, at Kael, as though suddenly remembering who he’s addressing.
“Ah. Of course. Royalty. Tether-bound. Stars above, where are my manners? Elandor, Archivist of… well, everywhere. Keeper of forgotten things, devotee of honest history. At your service.”
He dips into a bow so deep his spectacles slide precariously down his nose, and he nearly loses the stack of parchment in his arms. I catch them before they tumble, shaking my head with a smile.
“Please, stand. No need for all that,” I admonish kindly, reaching for his elbow to help him up. “I’m Elyssara,” I offer.
He smooths down his thick woolen coat, and blows frayed gray hair out of his face. “Oh, I know, dear—Dravara’s Princess. We have the rightful King Kael, Therion, Rubinia, Seren, Ronyn, Jax, Mavyrn,” he points towards the others one by one, giving them a curt dip of his chin as he recites their names. “Quite infamous in Nymeris, in fact, you lot. Yes, yes, we’ve been waiting for you all for some time,” he stammers.
Elandor pats down his coat again, fusses with his quill, then finally looks me square in the eyes over the rims of his spectacles. His gaze is sharp despite the absent-minded veneer, a scholar’s mind blazing behind the frailty of years.
“Well, then,” he says, clearing his throat. “If you’re here for answers, you’d best be ready to be disappointed. Knowledge is a greedy thing—it gives nothing freely, and when it does, it costs more than you think.”
What in the Stars does that even mean?
He says it so briskly, as though remarking on the weather, and shuffles off toward a winding staircase swallowed by shelves.
“Wait—what do you mean?” I ask.
“Mm?” He blinks back at me, halfway up the first step, parchment fluttering like feathers in his arms. “Oh, nothing of consequence. Only that knowledge doesn’t so muchrevealas itreminds.A most peculiar thing, really.”
I shake my head in confusion, looking to the others for clarification. Kael’s face contorts into a smirk, stifling a laugh at the old, flustered man, and I can’t help it—I laugh. No—I snort, clapping my palms over my mouth to muffle it.
But Elandor doesn’t notice. He simply continues his slow ascent up the winding staircase, scholar’s robes floating on the gentle breeze winding through the arched windows that reveal the cascading waterfall beyond.
Seren edges past me, and whispers, “I actually understood that. Knowledge is never a reveal—it is reminding you of the facts of what alreadyis.” She rushes after Elandor like a protégé chasing a master.
But, I’m not done. Despite whatever lies ahead, I laugh again.
There you go again with that laugh, Duskae.Kael’s rough timbre drifts down the tether like worship and reverence entwined.Wars have started for less, you know.
I spin on the staircase, turning into his chest as he ascends—our bodies collide, and it steals the breath from my lungs. Because I feel his devotion. His hunger. His love. His need forme to fall into him. To fall apart in his arms. And I want to. Gods, I want to. But there’s a small, sacred part of my heart that lives behind a fortress, and despite the way I have ripped at its walls, begging it to crumble—it won’t. Not entirely.
Because I’ve been here before. I’ve let myself free fall into him. I’ve let him hold my fractured pieces together with his bare hands.
And then he let go.
The fractured pieces shattered into tiny, sharp splinters.
I know why. I know he saved me. But the splinters of my soul don’t care for why they broke, just that theydid.
As if he sees the broken pieces in my eyes, his arms wrap around me, soothing, and the rich rumble of his voice drips like honey down the tether.I will wait as long as it takes for you to find safety in me again.
And his words wreck me, as if pressing on a wound that hasn’t yet healed. The prickle of tears sting my eyes, and the smell of oakmoss and leather wrap around me like a cloak.What if I never do?I ask, as we stare at each other in silent embrace. My heart aches, because this question has chased me from Thornewood, no matter how fast I move.
Then I will wait lifetimes. I will stay by your side until the question of my loyalty and love becomes a guarantee. For you Duskae, there is no limit to my devotion. You have always been forever for me.His words don’t drip like honey, they cut like a blade, slicing through my resistance until it almost bleeds out.
A whimper escapes me, sharp and insistent, and I can do nothing but submit to it. I nuzzle my face into his neck as if I can hide from myself there. The tears fall, gliding down my cheeks like my vulnerability is in a race to the bottom.
Kael’s thumb hovers at my chin, as though seeking permission before daring to touch me. But his resolve hardens as he grips my chin lightly, forcing me to look into his oceaneyes—the eyes that break me and put me back together. The eyes that beg me to feel everything I’d rather bury at the very bottom of my soul.
I love you, Elyssara Dawnmere, and I am not going anywhere. I will stay. I will outlast every scar. His words etch into my soul like sacred scripture—a promise. A vow.
The warmth of his heartbeat through his leather armor grounds me here, despite all the ways I crave to run from the intensity of his words, his eyes, his love.
But he doesn’t wait for me to speak. He drags his hands down my throat, across my neck, until his calloused palm spreads across my chest.My heart. “I know you can’t say it yet, my love. I don’t say it because I need to hear it in return. I proclaim my love for you because it is the truth, and you deserve nothing less,” he says, his voice certain, unwavering.
