Galanör was enraptured by the tale. “Did you go to him?” he asked, forgetting any formality.
Again, husband and wife shared a look. “We made the journey,” Reyna answered. “Those frozen wilds are no easy place to survive so we could not stay long. I laid eyes on him, though he did not see me. His dwelling is a simple hut, not far from the shore. His existence is equally simple… and lonely. It cannot be an easy life to bear for an immortal,” she concluded.
“Such is his punishment,” Nathaniel reminded them. “He nearly steered the realm into war and genocide. He was lucky Adilandra only banished him.”
Galanör didn’t disagree, though he couldn’t help but notice some heartache where Reyna was concerned. Her relationship had never been good with Elym, but he was still her father and now her only living parent. He felt for her.
Eventually, the queen waved the topic away. “These days are dark enough without dwelling on the misdeeds of my father. Let us pretend, if only for a moment, that all is right in the world. Lighten the mood, Galanör, and tell us of Aenwyn. I want to know everything,” she added with an eager smile.
More than happy to, Galanör took them back to his arrival in Ilythyra, when Ellöria was the lady of the wood. For a time, the three of them were able to fall into conversation and talk like the old friends they were.
32
A Heart of Three
Illian boasted every kind of terrain Verda had to offer and every inch of it was magnificent in its own way. It had been appreciated by numerous races and their countless generations for millennia. For Inara Galfrey, however, there was no better place than the sky. It might be devoid of rolling hills, snow-capped mountains, and glorious forests but, in comparison, it was an oasis for those who could navigate it.
Athis bore his pain willingly for the opportunity to soar through the heavens. His wings hurt to be so extended and his joints ached with every flap, but it did not stop him from gaining height nor gliding on the currents. The effects of Malliath’s fangs and claws still lingered up and down the red dragon’s body, their sting keenly felt. Yet they did not get in the way of his delight - flying with Inara.
His head broke the wind, allowing her to take in their surroundings. Inara would have preferred to keep her sights on the sky and the clouds or even the distant horizon, but there was no avoiding the eyesore that marred The Moonlit Plains. The battlefield remained littered with the dead, their bodies either piled or ordered into rows.
Inara was taken back to the battle, back to her failure.
The entire realm had been put in jeopardy because she had failed to defeat her brother. Thinking of Alijah brought back their last moment together. He had stood over her, the victor. In the last two years of war he had never had such an opportunity to kill her as he did then. But he faltered. Or did he? she questioned. Perhaps he merely wanted her to see his victory in all its terrible glory.
We both know that is not the truth. Athis’s voice focused her immediately.
It isn’t? she responded innocently enough.
When you entered the realm of magic, Athis continued, we lost contact with each other. We should assume the same of Alijah and Malliath.
That proves nothing, Inara countered without thought.
Perhaps not, Athis admitted, though it certainly adds to Gideon’s theory. There might be something of your brother left in there, Inara. A part of him that, without Malliath, recognises you for who you are.
Inara hardened her heart and mind to the possibility. No, she simply rejected. He is the enemy; nothing more, nothing less. As the Guardian of the Realm, it is my duty to—
Kill him? Athis questioned incredulously.
Again, Inara hardened and pushed her emotions down. If I must, she declared.
I share the title of Guardian, Athis said delicately, yet I do not consider it my duty to kill anything. We are to hold back the darkness. We are to be the hope that carries the light. We are to stand for those who cannot. If Alijah needs our help, should we not try?
Inara looked down at The Rebellion’s camp, her sharp eyes running along the many wounded and dying. No, she replied firmly.
Athis turned his head to briefly lay a single blue eye on his companion. Your thoughts and feelings may be your own now, but I still know what lies in your heart. I know that you—
Inara blinked in confusion. The dragon’s voice had simply disappeared. She looked at her companion and tilted to one side to try and see his face. She couldn’t feel him in her mind.
Athis?
There was no reply. There was nothing at all. Though their bond had changed, she could always reach out and feel the edges of his consciousness. Not anymore. Her confusion was quickly replaced by panic.
Athis?
The dragon looked back at her, concern in his eyes, as he was clearly experiencing the same thing.
“I can’t hear you!” she shouted over the wind.
Athis growled in frustration and banked to the north, his head angling down to return them to the ground. All four of his claws beat down in the snow, his wings fanning the powder into the air around them. Inara climbed down and dashed to face her companion.
“What’s happening?” she questioned out loud.
Athis moved his head as if he was replying, but no words sounded in her mind. Inara reached out and touched his hard snout, desperate to connect with the dragon in some way.
Inara? his voice finally rang clear in her mind.
Yes! she exclaimed. I can hear you again!
That was unpleasant, Athis understated. I couldn’t sense you at all.
Inara could feel her heart pounding in her chest as she turned to look at the distant pit. It’s the tree.
Athis’s head bowed, his dismay clear to see.
