“He is.”
“His power is destroyed.”
I nod. “It is.”
Graviter inhales deeply, his eyes filling with tears before he inclines his head. “Then justice has been done.”
He is too proud to grieve fully in front of me.
When he turns without another word, I let him go.
Every day after that, other dragons visit me. As Mother Solas predicted, they appear to love the perches at the sides of the tower and make frequent use of them. It seems like each day, there is a different dragon resting on one of the platforms, quietly watching over me.
The humans also come to visit, and nothing can prepare me for how hard it is to tell Rachel about her grandmother. Somehow, I get through it, and Rachel hugs me before she leaves.
Things get quieter after that.
The fae and the humans broker peace.
The humans who were responsible for the anarchy in the Cursed City are tried and executed, including Braddock, the man who once guarded me.
I stay away from the trials, but Erik is conflicted. I sense he wants to be there in support of the humans he protected: Petra, in particular.
But for either of us to make an appearance could influence the outcome.
I am acutely aware that with one word, I could sway decisions. Any decisions. Simply because… as I come to realize… they are all afraid of me.
Just as the fierce Valkyrie Queen looked fearfully into my eyes and told me I could force her to join a war against her will, every leader fears what I could do.
The dragons gave me access to my power, but it seems they never expected me to survive the process of banishing the darkness.
Even Graviter, who told me he had seen the future, seemed thrown, as if, at some point, the future he claimed to have seen must have changed, and now it is all unknown to him too.
Soon the dragons’ presence at the tower, their constant surveillance of me, becomes not a reassurance, but a caution.
I come to know what Thaden experienced.
The dragons are prepared for me to turn.
It won’t help to tell them that I never will.
Whatever I experienced in the dark magic keeper’s realm, I remember one thing for certain: When I died, he took every shred of dark magic from my body and soul, freeing me from it forever.
Whoever he was, he gave me a priceless gift of freedom, making my heart mine again.
Erik and Galeia are my balance against the quiet distrust of others. Erik is a constant strength, assuming the role of warrior for me, telling the dragons to fuck off when he senses I need space. Galeia is a source of joy, her dark, wolfish nature making her both mischievous and sweet in turns.
And then, something unexpected happens.
I wake one morning, four weeks after I created the keepers, and the first thing I do is vomit up every bit of last night’s meal.
I barely make it to the sink in time.
My launch out of the bed is so fast that Erik is halfway up behind me, his hair tousled and the blankets tangled in his legs. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
At the same time, Galeia, who sleeps on my side of the bed but frequently ends up at my feet, wriggles her way out of the blankets I accidentally piled onto her when I jumped up.
She, too, considers me with worried eyes.
