Home.
Home.
Rionan’s power sang to her soul, soothing her senses. Alianna smiled faintly and closed her eyes.
She felt her hair pooling behind her like she was lying in a hot bath. Her tears of sorrow dried. The pain in her ankles ebbed away.
Alianna never thought death would feel so comforting.
She opened her eyes and looked at the bag that she still clutched to her chest. Releasing it, the satchel drifted out in front of her, being carried by yellow waves. The material of the leather disintegrated entirely, revealing the stone itself. It seemed to pulse with a pure iridescent light, like a star being born. The sediment of the stone crumbled away, turning to dust and disappearing before Alianna’s eyes. The light glowed brighter, flowing outwards, wrapping around her in an embrace before entwining with Rionan’s own beautiful, perfect yellow.
Alianna could hear a blissful lullaby echoing through her now. She longed to sleep. She longed to stay here, where she could rest forever, at one with herself. No more noise. Nomore chaos. This made sense. This was the only thing that could ever make sense.
This was peace.
This was the gift of life itself.
This was beauty, strength, and tranquillity.
This was the wind in the trees. The water of the rivers. The sunsets, the stars, the moon and the mountains.
Alianna closed her eyes, becoming delirious with the feeling of the power that now began to pierce through her skin and claw towards her very soul.
As Alianna’s skin began to burn and she felt the threads of her existence unravelling, a smile bloomed across her face, like a flower opening in spring.
Home.
Home.
Home.
44
Rionan
As Rannirr disappeared from the battlefield, Rionan snarled. He brought his arms to his front in a swift motion, and before his palms could make contact with each other, he heard Thallax shout somewhere behind him, his friend’s voice stopping him dead.
“No, Rionan!” Thallax called. “It is what hewants. You, alone, one on one. If you go to him now, he will fight, and you will die. Xanthia will be lost, Rionan. You must trust Ali. She is part of you. You must trust her to finish this.”
Rionan wrestled with the choice his friend posed before him. A momentary pause, but it felt like time had frozen around him.
To save Xanthia.
Or save Alianna.
A voice in his head told him to stay with his men, to hold the line, while his heart screamed at him to go and find Alianna.
Their cruel world was presenting him with a choice: his Realm, or his soul-bonded partner.
Rionan sent another arc of his power blasting out ahead of him as he cried out in fury, cleaving through another incoming enemy horde, and his men took the opportunity to run forward. He could hear Thallax in the distance now, shouting over the fray, barking orders to hold the line and defend Savangrad.
That is when he saw Rannirr leaning over the edge of the turret nearest the courtyard, his power flowing off of him on a phantom wind.
A pain ripped through Rionan’s chest like he had never experienced, spearing through his very soul. He dropped to his knees, eyes wide, frantic, as he gritted his teeth against the cry that made his way up his throat. He was being impaled. Speared by a burning, fiery sensation that cut through his very core.
The truth of the pain he was in hit Rionan like a devastating blow.
“No,” he gritted out, his voice full of devastation and anguish. Rionan struggled to raise his head. He scanned the upper levels of Savangrad for any sign of life. “Ali.”
