Morrathys inclines his head. “A gift.”
But Kael doesn’t speak, he waits, confused.
“You’ve learned the value of life, my son. That living is more than not dying—it is loving, fighting for purpose beyond ourselves, sacrifice for the greater good,” the God of Death announces.
Kael doesn’t flinch under the praise, he only stands like a warrior.A force of fucking nature.
“Death’s Heir,” Morrathys proclaims. “The Endbringer.”
Endbringer.
It feels like Kael captured in a single word—beautiful, terrible, termination made flesh. His victims’ end.Myend.The Endbringer.
We all suck in sharp breaths, and I hear Ronyn mutter about only getting zarethite weapons.
But Kael drops into a low bow, accepting the gift with the grace of a born king.
“I will not forsake your gift.”
“I know, my son. Right this world, and then,” Morrathys starts moving backwards as he cleaves another thin rip through the air, “return my brothers and sisters to me. I’ll be waiting for them in the Between.”
Then, he steps through the rip, folding time, space and reality.
For a heartbeat, I do nothing but breathe.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Inhale.
Exhale.
For a fleeting moment, it feels like it's over.
Like I can breathe for the first time since I rescued Ronyn from The Tannery.
We did it.I whisper down the tether like I’m too afraid to say it.
We did it, my love. Kael replies immediately, as if he’s been waiting for me to speak since the moment I shoved a blade through my mother’s heart.
I can hear all the questions he doesn’t ask but so desperately wants to:Do you understand why I had to do it? Do you forgive me? Do you still love me?
I’ve spent too many years hating what I didn’t understand.
I’ve spent a lifetime swimming in the waters of gray morality, and if I’ve learned anything, it’s that moral absolutism is a lie.
He made me kill my mother.
But he did it to honor her last wishes, to save Aevryn, to allow me to live with her love in my heart.
And that?That, I understand.
I understand. I forgive you. I love you. I send my words down the tether while I hold his gaze, molten silver whirling in captivating spirals through his ocean irises.
He closes his eyes, as if my words offer him the absolution he’s been craving.
But the brief moment doesn’t save us from reality.
