“Shh… They are fine, young one,” Sige said. A sensation not unlike a warm hug momentarily chased back the pain.
With a sigh, they left the world for another. And another.
On the fourth, they found survivors, though the poor creatures barely clung to life. Sige/Peter placed both hands on the ground, willing a portion of stolen magic back into the land.
Will they ever recover?Peter asked.
They stand a better chance now, with some of their magic returned. Time will tell. If we could have found a way to stop Thomoth earlier, we could have prevented some of the destruction. If not for you and your mate, more realms might have died.
One by one, they explored realms. Some they saved, some they couldn’t. Occasionally, they found Father Dmitri’s kind, assisting however they could.
Finally, they returned to Peter’s home realm and E’Skaara.
A feeling of sorrow came over Sige.We must leave you now. We thank you for allowing us to use your body, and we apologize for the damages we were too late to prevent.
Sige withdrew. There one moment, gone the next. Peter staggered, recovering his balance by clinging to a cart. How odd, being alone in his head after sevendays—seasons?—sharing with another. Nighttime. His stomach rumbled. He hadn’t eaten since before he’d left this place, Sige providing for Peter’s body. With Sige gone, exhaustion took its toll. Oh, to be in a nice soft bed. But…
Before him, the Stone’s Throw lay in ruins, nothing but toppled brick and charred timbers. Was Martin okay? Addie?
Martin.
Stumbling, putting one foot in front of the other, Peter wended his way through the destroyed lower city, deserted at this hour and with many buildings too severely damaged to save. However, the air smelled of newly cut lumber, fresh paint, and reconstruction. Step by weary step, he followed his instincts.
He met no one. No night workers, no sailors in search of a drink. Not even a stray dog or cat. Without conscious thought, he trudged down a barely recognizable street.
The Father’s temple? What was he doing here?
No one stopped him from entering.
A room door stood ajar. Sige’s influence had awakened part of Peter’s mind where magecraft lived. The scent of Martin’s magic lingered in the room, his very essence.
Tired. So tired. Peter sank down onto a mattress large enough for several people and breathed in. Addie? Addie was here? His heart soared to know she’d survived. Another’s scent lingered too, a man’s, but Peter felt no jealousy. Whoever slept in this bed with Martin wasn’t a lover.
Martin. He wanted Martin.
He’d find him.
In a minute. Peter would close his eyes until then.
As days passed, the magic became a part of Martin, there at his beck and call. He kept his actions hidden, but raising a building worked much better with the wave of a hand, though such exertion left him worn out and in need of rest.
Days spent toiling, nights sharing a bed with Addie and Cere. Someone had even noticed Martin’s predicament and procured a bed big enough for three, and a larger room.
No one asked questions. They were far from the only ones seeking comfort in these hard times. The comfort Martin needed would only come when Peter returned.
He slept across the street from the temple he used to stand before each night, vowing revenge. Now, no matter how tired the day left him, Martin trudged to each gateway, hoping. Always hoping.
The days had grown short and now slowly lengthened again. Less light and smoke from the city gave him a better view of the heavens. He stood, breath fogging before his face. Did Peter see the same stars when he studied the sky at night? Did he think of Martin? Or was he still too possessed by Sige to recall the man waiting for him?
Would Sige return him as promised?
Martin strolled to the docks and stared out at sea. Dmitri wanted him to leave this place, explore other realms, and help repair Thomoth’s destruction.
The remaining people elected interim leaders and ordained new priests to take over once the existing ones returned home.
None mentioned the Lady, and the king hid in his castle, leaving the commoners to their own struggles.
What place had Martin here? A pile of ashes remained of the Stone’s Throw. The city’s outlying areas would remain in ruins for seasons until the existing population expanded and needed the space.
