Slowly, the door to the Radix Room appeared behind thick, moving vines. Evelina pushed it open, breathing in the smell of the thousands of books stacked on the shelves.
The Radix Room was warm and quiet, the beauty of the Mother Tree on full display. It allowed her to feel more connected with the land, with the roots that ran to the farthest corners of the kingdom. There was a time when the roots stretched to the other end of the continent, but after the curse, she wasn’t able to feel anything beyond the Zenovia Mountains anymore.
Still, the room was bursting with magic, giving her the evening to herself. Ellerry was out prepping for the trial, along with Annora and the other Nox that helped. It made the Radix Room the emptiest place to be. Tonight, she wanted to be alone.
Evelina quickly scaled the Mother Tree, eager to rest and recharge her Essence. Once she reached the small bench that hung in the branches, she smiled.
She shivered as she settled on the bench, laying down on her back and closing her eyes. The room felt brighter than usual with the Harvest Moon streaming in through the tall windows.
She fell asleep, hoping she would see a glimpse of Daimon in her dreams, if only for a second.
Evelina blinked open her eyes, still in the Radix Room, though now it was dark. She leapt onto one of the thick branches, twisting around.
A soft, warm glow flickered on the ground through the leaves.
She descended, curious. When her feet hit the ground, she gasped. The Radix Room had shifted. The Mother Tree was the same, but the library was now smaller—more intimate.
Instead of a plain wall of books, a fireplace crackled with flames by the back window. Evelina hesitantly walked over to the pile of blankets and pillows resting in front of it. Books stilllined the shelves, their leather scent wrapping around her senses.
It felt like a dream.
But she couldn’t be dreaming. The last time she was this aware in her dreams?—
A flash of light lit up the room, followed by a crackle of thunder.
She walked over to the window, watching as rain poured from the clouds. The pattering sounds of drops tapping against the glass covered her jagged breaths. Her legs began to tremble as her mind finally caught up to what was happening.
Her palm burned and she hissed, looking down at it. Her soulbond scar was glowing white.
“Eve?” a deep voice rumbled, as dark as the thunder outside.
She spun around, a flash of lightning brightening the room and illuminating the man in front of her.
“Daimon,” she breathed. He smiled, his eyes wide and as surprised as she felt. “I can hear you—I canseeyou.” She gasped, her feet frozen in place.
The candlelight illuminated his skin, making him glow.
His face was just like she remembered it, his eyes still the midnight blue she wanted to get lost in, his lips still curled up at the edges. His hair was still dark and falling into his eyes, but it was shorter than it had been; it didn’t curl at the nape of his neck anymore.
She could even smell the familiar scent of frost and cedar lingering around him, something she never thought she would get to smell again, wishing she could bottle it up and bring it home with her. He wore a black cotton shirt that buttoned down the middle, and black trousers that clung to his thighs.
It was him; it was well and truly him. So different from the glimpses she had caught of him during Harvest Moons past. It didn’t make sense why he was suddenly so clear.
But she didn’t care why—all she cared about was thathe washere.
Her feet were still frozen in place, her body failing to catch up with her thoughts as she stared at him, her mouth agape. Her hands trembled as she took a small step toward him. She found him doing the same, both afraid that it was too good to be true.
“Have I been blessed by the Divine enough that it’s you?” he whispered. “Or are you just a mirage haunting my memories?”
Slowly, he walked toward her and stopped an arm’s length away.
“It’s me.” She swallowed.
He lifted his hands toward her—fingers trembling. He paused just before he touched her, as if afraid she wouldn’t be real. Or, perhaps, afraid shewasreal.
His hands slid onto her face, cupping her cheeks.
They both drew in a sharp breath. She couldfeelhis skin against hers. He was colder than she last remembered, but it was still him. Still her Daimon.
