“I told you, I’m fine!” I whined, weakly fighting against the damp towel being pressed against my forehead. “All I need is a glass of water and a few hours to rest, and I’ll be back—” My protests were interrupted by a violent cough that forced me to double over in bed and stole the air from my crackling lungs.

“Those aren’t the sounds that healthy people make, love,” Amaya chided, wiping the sweat from my brow. When my coughing fit finally ended, she forced me back down into the bed with a firm hand on my chest and pulled the heavy blanket up over me. “There’s no need to push yourself so hard. That’s why you’re stuck in bed in the first place, you know—you shouldn’t have been out in the cold for so long.”

“I had to get the chimney patched before the snow came,” I protested. A deep, consistent ache lingered over my body like a heavy bank of fog. “This is just a little cold, Amaya—I promise I’ll be fine.”

Her narrowed lilac eyes failed to relax their glare. “How about this?” I continued, trying and failing to push myself up from beneath the weight of her hand on my chest. “I’ll get my repair work done, and then I’ll stay in bed for the rest of the day. That’ll be more than enough time for me to recover and—”

“Dad can handle the work on his own,” she interrupted me. “He ran the shop on his own for over a decade. A few days without your help won’t put him out of business—to be honest, he’ll probably enjoy the alone time.” She turned away to pour me another cup of water from the pitcher on the bedside table, but I still caught a glimpse of the playful smirk that ran across her face.

“That’s not…I know that, but…” I trailed off, scrunching up my face. A sense of helplessness flooded through me as I finally gave up my futile attempts to escape my cushioned prison. “I don’t want you two to worry about me, is all.”

“I want to worry about you, Elden,” she smiled sweetly, pushing the small clay cup of water into my hand. “That’s what I signed up for, isn’t it? Those were the words you wrote—no matter if you’re sick or healthy, right?”

“In sickness and in health,” I corrected her quietly, feeling a rush of blood to my already flushed face. I took a sip of the tepid water and shivered as it chilled my throat and stomach.

“Exactly,” she nodded triumphantly. She leaned her head down and nuzzled her nose against mine, purposely drooping her long, velvety ears in my face until I laughed at the tickling sensation. “You have to rest to get better, whether you like it or not. If that means I have to sit beside you and hold you down until you fall asleep, so be it.”

“No, I’ll be good,” I smiled, planting a quick kiss on her cheek before she pulled away. “Thanks, Amaya. I love you.”

“And I love you,” she echoed. She remained in her seat beside the bed for a moment and watched me with wide, gentle eyes, smiling quietly to herself. Eventually, she let out a soft sigh and made her way to the door, pausing just before she left the room. “You’re always there when I need you, Elden. Don’t forget that I’ll always be there for you, too—no matter what you need.” She flashed me another smile as she pulled open the door. “I’ll be just outside. Try to get some sleep, okay?”

“I’ll try.” I followed her advice and curled up beneath the heavy blankets as she left the room. I expected sleep to be a difficult goal to achieve with the mountain of repair work I had left to Ashedown looming over me, but my aching body melted into the bed in the instant I closed my eyes. My lips curled into a wide smile as my wife’s words echoed in my head and lulled me into a deep, peaceful sleep.

---

I awoke to a suite of unfamiliar senses. A stifling pressure bore down on me from all sides and restricted my breathing. Adrenaline surged through me as I raced to interpret the barrage of alien senses: my eyes burned from the strange assault of fuzzy, multicolored light that filled the room around me; a consistent, deafening hiss clawed at my ears; and the tidal wave of thoughts and emotions running through my brain all threatened to overwhelm me before I fully regained consciousness.

In the moment before panic fully overtook my mind, a switch flipped somewhere deep within me and clarified the strange world in a single instant. The suffocating weight that had stolen my breath came from a heavy quilt lined with supple gray fur spread out over my familiar bed. Narrow beams of light snuck in through gaps in the heavy blinds on the far wall, illuminating my bedchamber within the ambassador suite. When I eventually gathered the strength to turn my head, I found the source of the droning noise immediately to my right; Lia sat in a small chair at the bedside with her chin tucked against her chest, snoring softly.

A wave of relief washed over me as I sank back into the plush bed. Still alive. My hand instinctively reached out in her direction while a wide smile graced my lips. She’s still alive…and I’m still here. I watched her quietly for some time, savoring the rise and fall of her chest from every gentle breath. I made no effort to aid the painstakingly slow readjustment of my mind to its conscious state; despite the exponentially growing list of questions that filled my head as my memories slowly returned, I was more than willing to enjoy the moment of blissful silence for as long as possible.

How? The single word finally punched through my dreamlike daze and forced me into introspection. After a long, centering breath, I followed the tenuous line of my memories back to the events that had led me to my current infirmed state and watched them play out in painful detail. I saw the shadowy chamber of interwoven bridges bathed in emerald light and a smiling figure that shared my face. I felt Val’s pain as she bared her soul to me, revealing the true depths of the feelings I had so callously ignored. Hope, despair, fear, and suffering all wove together to create the violent tapestry of our battle, twisting and turning behind a sudden burst of void flames as I made my desperate deal with my darker half. My stomach churned as I relived the soaring revelry of my borrowed mastery over the void that culminated in the violent and bombastic death of our Mimic foe.

A yawning pit clawed at my chest as I saw myself abandon my companions in pursuit of the Source. The pain in Lia’s voice as she called out to me echoed through my mind as the memories continued, tormenting me long after the moment had passed. It was the sudden appearance of Amaya’s chilling voice that snapped me out of my stupor; though the clarity of my visions clouded in time with her icy presence, I continued to watch the memories with renewed interest. The sweetly nostalgic voice spoke an impossible truth into my mind as my hands wrapped around the Shadebinders’ relic; her simple statement immediately made me question the validity of the memory, but the proof arrived a moment later as she forced me to watch the interchange of mana and void within my core.

The visions ended with an abrupt flare of remembered pain when a swarm of Mimics entered the edge of my void Detection. I returned to the present with a soft gasp, momentarily stunned as my mind attempted to separate memory from reality. My heart rate gradually returned to normal after a few seconds of slow, even breaths, and I allowed myself to reflect on Amaya’s revelation for the first time with a clear head.

That’s why I’m here—why I’m still alive. For the first time in recent memory, I stared straight into the face of one of my most well-hidden and unspoken fears. I can’t die. Or…I can’t stay dead. It doesn’t matter if there’s mana or void inside me—I’ll always exist. Whether I want to or not. Forever.

A deep existential dread began to creep up my spine, and I rushed to turn my thoughts away to another topic. The ability to turn mana to void, and void to mana…that’s how I kept Lia alive. It has to be. The simple thought of her soothing light was enough to cut off my anxiety before it consumed me, and I kept my eyes firmly locked on her sleeping face. Regardless of what it took from me, it saved her, too. It kept me alive so I could spend more time with her. Maybe…maybe it isn’t so—

“We’re back, Lia!” A single knock accompanied Marin’s declaration as she backed into the room, balancing a tray of dinner plates and tall wine glasses.

The sudden sound startled Lia out of her peaceful nap, and she spun to face our intruder with a deeply furrowed brow. “Quiet down!” she whispered forcefully. “I told you yesterday to stop doing that!”

“Oh, right. We wouldn’t want to wake him,” she replied with an audible eye roll, her voice no quieter than before. “No, wait—we would want that, wouldn’t we?”

“That’s not the point,” Lia snapped. “What do you even want? I told you, I’m not hungry.”

“Well, I’m hungry, and it’s lunchtime.” She kicked the door closed and moved to the nearby table to set down her meal. “It’s my turn to watch you, and I’m not doing it on an empty stomach. I brought you some because it’s polite, not because I thought you’d eat it.” The defiance drained from her face as she pushed a plate of untouched breakfast foods to the side and set out both of the fresh meals. “You really should eat, Lia,” she sighed as she sat down, motioning to the empty chair across from her. It looked as if she wanted to continue what was clearly an ongoing request, but she froze in place as her eyes met mine.

“I ate this morning with Val,” she said flippantly, motioning to the plate of old food on the table. “Honestly, I don’t see why you’re all suddenly so concerned with how much I’m—what?” Lia paused to raise an eyebrow at Marin as she continued to wordlessly gawk at me.

“What’s your prob—Lux!” Lia threw herself onto the bed the moment she noticed my face, knocking her chair over in the process. “Lux, you’re awake!”

Her weight knocked the air from my lungs, but I savored the ache as her amber mana rushed through my body and filled me with a much-needed warmth. “I’m awake,” I coughed, realizing just how dry disuse had made my mouth and throat.

There was a long moment of silence as her extended mana conveyed the feelings she couldn’t put into words. Waves of grief and fear washed through me as I saw myself through her eyes lying motionless in bed. Visitors came and went as day turned to night and day again under her watchful eye; the passage of time was difficult to track through her shared memories, distorted in large part by her ever-increasing exhaustion, hunger, and dehydration.

I stroked my hand along the length of her fraying braid while she kept her face buried in the blankets that covered my chest. “I’m sorry,” I murmured in her ear. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

She gave me a lingering squeeze before carefully sitting up beside me, revealing her red, tear-soaked face and bloodshot eyes. “Lux, I…I didn’t know if you were ever going to wake up,” she sniffled, running her hand through my unwashed hair. “I couldn’t feel you in there—your mind was just…gone. I was scared.”

“I’m sorry,” I repeated, using the majority of my strength to push myself up into a sitting position against the headboard. “How long was I out?”

“Three days. Maybe four—I’m…not really sure.” She chewed on her lip as she watched me with glistening eyes, eventually abandoning her restraint when she lunged forward and kissed me, holding my face in both hands. “I’m so glad you’re awake, Lux,” she cried, resting her forehead against mine.

“Me, too.” I pulled her down into the bed with me and held her tightly against my side. “Marin, thanks for taking care…oh.” Turning my attention away from Lia revealed that Marin had left the room at some point during our tender reunion, but a voice from the hallway quickly gave away her location.

“He’s awake!” Marin shouted from the common area. “Lux is awake!”

I let out a small sigh as I prepared myself for a sudden surge of visitors. “Lia, I’m…I’m sorry. For everything. When—”

“Not now,” she interrupted quietly, lacing her fingers between mine and giving them a soft squeeze. “We can talk about it later. For now…I’m just happy you’re alive.”

“Okay,” I answered, kissing the top of her head.

A set of heavy, pounding footsteps thundered towards our room, announcing Val’s arrival long before she appeared in the doorway. “Lux!” She dashed across the bedroom and dropped to her knees, sliding roughly into the side of my bed. “You are awake,” she said in a wavering voice.

“Hey, Val,” I smiled. “Glad to see you’re okay.”

A beaming grin spread across her face. “Thanks to you and Lia, I have survived for another day.”

“I should probably be the one thanking you,” I chuckled. “I assume you two are the reason I’m still alive right now.”

The pair shared a quick look of concern. “You…don’t remember what happened?” Lia asked carefully.

“Only bits and pieces. Everything after our fight with the Mimic is a bit fuzzy—I remember finding the Source, but that’s where the memory ends.”

There was an ominous pause in the conversation as Lia sat up cross-legged beside me, slipping out from beneath my sheltering arm. “Val and I found you at a Shadebinder altar,” she started, watching my face with an unsettling intensity. “You had the Source in your hands, and you were just…shaking. Convulsing, covered in blood…” She trailed off as a shiver ran down her spine.

“We managed to separate you from the Shadebinder relic,” Val continued for her. “I personally saw to its destruction. We are still unsure what you did with it, but the result of your actions is clear—I can say with confidence that the Mimic threat to Doram has been permanently ended.”

“But what about the Mimics that are already here?” My mind raced to guess the bad news I could feel coming. “Kord said there were thousands of them—almost half the population of the Rings, and even more in Drost. What happened to them? What did I…” I swallowed hard against a sudden pang of fear creeping through my gut. “Did they die? Did they…explode? Was—”

“No, Lux,” Lia cut in. “We passed by a dozen Mimics on the way to find you that were just…dead. No injuries, no sign of a struggle, and no explosions—it was like they all just fell down and died. We talked with Halvaar after we got you back to the castle, and he said the reports were the same from all over Doram. The Mimics are dead, and nobody else got hurt.”

I let out a ragged sigh of relief. “Oh. That’s…good, right?”

The pair didn’t seem to share my relief. “Lux, the fact that you are awake and speaking right now is beyond miraculous,” Val said quietly, reaching out to place a gentle hand on my arm. “When we first found you in the Shadebinders’ fortress, I was afraid that you would not survive your injuries. You sustained an incredible amount of trauma during—”

“Lux! You’re awake!” Siv’s tiny voice shattered the tense air that had filled the bedroom. “You’ve been sleeping forever!” She bounced in place at the doorway as she waited for her mother to arrive behind her, then dashed over to the table to pick through the lunches Marin had delivered and promptly abandoned.

“Hi, Siv,” I smiled at her, keeping a wary eye on Val and Lia beside me. “I was really tired after my last trip.”

She nodded as she munched on an apple slice, accepting my explanation as fact. “Lia wouldn’t come out and play with me while you were sleeping,” she explained matter-of-factly, climbing into one of the chairs by the table to more officially help herself to the leftover lunch.

“Siv, sweetie, that isn’t yours,” Tyr called after her. As she made her way across the room to separate her daughter from the meal, Marin followed along beside her with her arm looped tightly around Tyr’s waist, beaming the entire way. “Why don’t we go down to the market and get you some berries? That should give Lux some time to wake up.” She flashed me an apologetic smile as she put a hand on Siv’s shoulder and attempted to lead the girl back to the door.

“But I wanted to go with Lia!” Siv whined. She slipped out from beneath her mother’s grasp and raced to the edge of the bed. “You can take me now that Lux is awake, right, Lia?”

“Actually, Siv, I need to stay here and talk to Lux for a little bit,” she answered, forcing a small smile. “We can go tomorrow, okay?”

“Why don’t I take you, Siv?” I offered. “I think it’d probably be good for me to get up and stretch my legs a bit after sleeping for so long.”

Val and Lia both appeared startled by the idea, each speaking over the other in an effort to convince me otherwise.

“I do not believe that would be the best—”

“Lux, you shouldn’t do anything before—”

A band of golden mana washed over me as I attempted to ignore the pair and extricate myself from the bed. Lux, please, stop. Before you get up, there’s something you should—

The world fell silent as I threw back the sheets and turned to slide out of bed. Oh.

Dense, disorienting banks of fog settled over my mind as I stared blankly at the injury my companions had attempted to warn me about: My left leg ended in a fleshy stump halfway down my thigh, just barely poking out through the leg of my underwear. There were no signs of scars, blood, or discoloration of any kind that would indicate I had lost the lower two-thirds of the limb only four days earlier; the perfectly healed flesh looked as if it had always existed in its dismembered state. I carefully lowered my hand through the space where my leg should have been, confirming that the missing flesh was truly gone and not hidden through some sort of illusion.

“Lux,” Lia whispered, tightly gripping my hand, “I’m s—”

“Your leg’s gone, Lux!” Siv yelled in alarm, pointing at the missing limb with a tiny finger.

“Siv!” Tyr gasped. “That’s a very rude thing to say!” She turned and gave me a deep bow while Marin scooped Siv up from her place at the edge of the bed and ferried her away to the door. “Lux, I am so sorry.”

“Mari, what happened?!” I heard Siv yell over her mother, her voice shrill and panicked. “What happened to Lux?!” Marin shut the door behind her as they left the room, muffling the young girl’s cries.

“I’m going to explain the situation to her to make sure this doesn’t happen again,” Tyr promised, her reddening face nearly parallel with the floor.

“Yeah, it’s, uhm…that’s fine,” I mumbled, absentmindedly shaking my head while I continued to stare at the missing limb. “It’s fine.”

“I’ll…give you some privacy,” she said, immediately hurrying after Marin and her daughter.

Memories of the repeated injuries I had taken from my Mimics filtered in and out of my mind as I sat in stunned silence. The agony of the remembered strikes burned through me as if the limb still existed, sending jolts of pain up through what little remained of my leg and into the base of my spine. I reached out with a trembling hand and traced a finger across the newly-formed flesh that had sealed off the wound. It’s…real. This is real.

“I…tried to heal it, Lux,” Lia croaked, her voice raspy and broken as tears streamed down her face. “You’d lost so mu—much blood, I was worried you wouldn’t…wouldn’t survive at all.” She wiped her face on her sleeve as she clutched my hand, drawing it up tightly against her chest. “The wound closed up, b—but your leg didn’t come back.”

I finally managed to avert my eyes from my injury, and I was surprised to find that both of my companions had started to cry. “I had hoped that, with the missing limb retrieved, we may have been able to reattach it,” Val said, her usually steely voice tight and warbling, “but there was…no sign of it. I searched the Shadebinder passages extensively, Lux, I promise you.”

The sight of their sorrow set a fire in my stomach and brought on a sharp sense of mental clarity. This is my fault. All of it—this injury, their pain…everything. I bit down on the inside of my cheek and gave Lia’s hand a tight squeeze. They need me now. Self-pity comes later.

I sucked in air until my lungs hurt, then let out a loud, long sigh, bottling all of my anxiety, confusion, and grief up deep within my core. “Well, I guess I’ll save money buying boots from now on,” I said, forcing a small grin.

Lia let out a short, barking laugh, but her creased brow and trembling lips persisted. “You don’t have to do that, Lux,” she said, reaching out to stroke my cheek. “You don’t have to be…okay, right now.”

I pulled the blanket up to my waist to cover my missing leg. “I’m not okay, Lia,” I told her honestly, “but that doesn’t matter right now. I’m alive. You’re alive—both of you. Marin, Tyr, and Siv are safe. That’s what matters to me.” I awkwardly spun myself in place to face them, wobbling unsteadily while I attempted to balance myself with a leg that no longer existed. “If this was the price to pay to make that happen, I’m glad I did it. I’d pay it again in a heartbeat.”

“That should not be your burden to bear!” Val protested, her hands balling into fists in her lap. “You should not have to sacrifice yourself for us!”

“You’re right,” I agreed, “but I did it anyways.” I extended my free hand out to the edge of the bed toward her. Her eyes grew wide as she stared down at the beckoning hand, and she quickly turned her gaze up to Lia for permission. After a long pause, Lia gave her a subtle nod, and Val carefully lowered her hand to mine.

I closed my fingers around hers and gave them a squeeze, mimicking the gesture for Lia. “You both did everything you could to help me, even after I tried to stop you. You saved me. This injury…it isn’t your fault—it’s mine. I don’t want either of you to spend even a second blaming yourselves for this.”

Both women took in a quick breath in preparation to respond, no doubt in an effort to contradict me, but I shook my head and continued. “I…don’t know what’s going to happen now. Things are going to be different. I’ll probably…” I paused, biting down on my lip as I tried to steel myself for the coming truth. “I’ll probably need a lot more help from the two of you from now on. It’s not fair to force a burden like that on you, so if either of—”

“Anything you need,” Val interrupted me, bowing to press her forehead against our joined hands. “You will have my service for as long as I am able to serve.”

Lia remained silent as she kissed the back of my hand, but I heard her response clearly in my mind. Forever.

I nodded my head in reply, my tightly pursed lips the only thing holding back the sob bottled up in my chest. When my tempestuous emotional state finally began to calm, I let out the pressure in another ragged sigh. “So, is there anything else? I doubt there’s any news that could top this, so do your worst.”

My attempt at levity brought a weak smile to Lia’s face. “There is, actually. Your scars are…well, they spread again.”

Though the thought had yet to cross my mind, I was completely unsurprised by the revelation. “Yeah, that makes sense. How bad is it this time?”

She spent a moment weighing her words before standing up and leaving the bedside in silence; she returned a moment later with a gaudy hand mirror, framed with gold wire and studded with an array of large pearls. “Here,” she murmured, placing it on the bed beside me.

There was little room for concern about my appearance while my mind continued to race with thoughts of my lost limb, so I picked up the mirror and inspected the progress of my scars without hesitation. The new damage was clear to see even without unbuttoning my silken shirt; black marks wove up around the right side of my neck and stretched across my face, winding across my chin and cheek until they stopped just below my right eye. I let out a low whistle as I observed the damage, tracing the dark lines with my finger. “I guess it was only a matter of time,” I sighed, placing the mirror back down on the bed.

“They really don’t look that bad, Lux,” Lia comforted me, returning the mirror to her bedside table. “I know they remind you of all the pain you’ve gone through, but they’re also a mark of all the good you’ve done, too.” She returned to her seat on the side of the bed and gave me a warm smile, folding her hands in her lap. “That’s what I think, anyways.”

Her words sent a tingle down my spine, waking an anxiety I had forgotten in my self-pity. “Val, if you don’t mind…I’d like to talk to Lia alone for a while,” I asked, hiding my sudden shift in emotion as best I could.

“Of course.” She stood up from her kneeling position beside the bed and gave me a final once-over before she made her way to the door. “I will be in the common area—please do not hesitate to ask if you need anything.”

I waited until the door closed behind her to let my posture slump, and I shifted back into a more comfortable, reclined position against the headboard with a soft groan. “Lux, what’s wrong?” Lia asked, instantly on alert. “Are you feeling—”

“Your scars grew, too, didn’t they?” I spoke over her, already sure of the answer. “I hurt you again.”

The truth was clear in the depths of her amber eyes as they bounced back and forth, avoiding my piercing gaze. The flare of her nostrils and wrinkle of her brow told an entire story in the short seconds she spent in silence; I saw her battle between downplaying my role in her injury, denying the fact outright, or bristling at the unspoken implication that she should have left me to my dark fate. “Yes,” she murmured eventually. She unfastened the top buttons of her shirt and slipped it down over her shoulder, revealing the full extent of the black marks. A fist-sized patch of pure black skin sat over the rough line of scar tissue on her chest that served as the source of the corruption, sending new tendrils of crawling darkness up to her shoulder and left bicep.

The sight immediately turned my stomach, but I found myself unable to look away from the pain I had caused her. A half-dozen conversations played out in my head in unison, each one retreading the same argument over and over again to the same effect: I begged her to stop sacrificing herself to save me, and she pleaded for me to do the same. “I’m sorry. I did what I thought I had to do to save you.”

“I know,” she nodded, lying down beside me. “I did, too.”

My vision clouded with tears as a fresh wave of helplessness washed over me, cascading through every failure from our last battle. “I tried so hard,” I croaked. “I really did, Lia. I tried, and I just…I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t do anything.” I tried to hide my eyes behind my hand as tears streamed down my face, but the gesture was of little use as quiet, hiccuping sobs escaped my lips.

Lia pulled me down to rest against her chest and ran her fingers through my hair in slow circles, shattering whatever resistance I had left. “It’s okay,” she whispered as I cried into the soft green fabric of her shirt. “I can’t even imagine what you went through, but you didn’t fail, Lux. You succeeded. You kept everybody safe—me and Val, Tyr, Siv, and Marin. All of Doram. You saved the world—again.” She held me tight against her chest as my body trembled, expelling the poison of the emotions that had festered within me.

I stayed wrapped in her arms for a long time, allowing her warm, amber presence to comfort me until I was entirely drained of energy. Despite my extended four-day rest, exhaustion crept its way into my muscles and mind, and I began to doze off in Lia’s arms.

“Lux?” Lia’s voice roused me from my semi-conscious state. “There was something I wanted to ask you.”

“Mhmm,” I mumbled, pawing at my puffy, dry eyes as I sat up under my own strength. “What’s up?”

“It was about something that happened after you…went off on your own,” she said haltingly. There was a long pause as she looked me up and down, chewing on her lip as she drew slow circles against my palm with her thumb. Eventually, she let out a small laugh and looked down at the floor beside the bed. “I guess I must be tired—I forgot what it was I wanted to ask.”

“I’m not surprised,” I nodded, fighting through the last remnants of sleep that clouded my head. “If I had to guess, you haven’t been eating or sleeping much since we got back to the castle. Right?”

“Maybe,” she answered with a small shrug. “I haven’t been hungry.”

“You know, I remember someone giving me a hard time for missing a few meals back in Lybesa.” I nudged her with my elbow and flashed her a sly grin. “I can’t seem to remember who it was.”

She rolled her eyes as the grin infected her. “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

“Why don’t you try to get some sleep? We can all have a nice meal together after you wake up, and then we can figure out what to do next. Maybe you’ll remember what it was you wanted to ask me about, too.”

Her lips pursed at the suggestion, but she quickly dismissed the look with an animated nod. “I might be able to get more than a few minutes of sleep now that you’re here,” she agreed.

I leaned in and kissed her on the head, taking a moment to pause and savor the comforting gesture. “If you don’t mind, could you use the bedroom next door? I’m going to try to do some basic workouts to see what I’m capable of—if nothing else, that might be a bit…distracting.”

A flash of concern raced across her face, but it faded just as quickly. “Okay,” she nodded. “If you need any help, just ask, okay? You don’t need to push yourself.”

“I will,” I assured her. “I love you, Lia. Go get some sleep.”

“I love you, too.” She kissed me one final time before heading to the door, pausing just long enough to shine a radiant smile in my direction before the door closed and left me alone.

I fell back in bed and stared up at the stone ceiling, feeling the loneliness of the empty room weighing down on me. Without my family to distract me, I immediately returned to the thoughts I had done my best to repress. Flashes of pain from my missing limb created a disorienting sense of duality in my head; I could still feel the length of my leg that no longer existed even as the new flesh of my healed wound brushed against the soft bedsheets.

I’m broken. Though I had long since run out of tears, a pervasive sorrow suffused through every inch of my body, leaving me feeling far too heavy to move. What am I supposed to do now? I can’t fight—I probably can’t even walk. If I can’t fight…what’s the point? What am I even good for now? The thought reverberated through my empty mind, torturing me with every unanswered echo. Nothing.

I’ve told you before, love—self-pity doesn’t suit you. Amaya’s cold voice slithered through my head, bouncing from ear to ear as if she were standing just behind me. Oddly enough, it still doesn’t.

I allowed her chilling presence to seep through me without resistance. The icy sensation was oddly soothing against my aching body, and the contempt and anger her mimicked voice usually inspired within me was nowhere to be found.

What, no quips today? That’s rather boring.

Her voice gave me the necessary push I needed to escape from my spiraling thoughts. You saved me, didn’t you?

Of course I did, Elden. I told you I’d always be there for you.

You saved Lia, too. And Val.

There was a long pause before the voice responded. Well, not intentionally, but…I suppose I did, didn’t I? An amused giggle played in my ear as she toyed with the idea. When you put it that way, I’m really the savior of Doram. That’s quite a nice title, isn’t it?

Her playful provocation fell on deaf ears; though an instinctual part of my brain attempted to revive my distrust of the voice, I was filled with nothing but gratitude for her presence. Thank you.

You’re welcome, love. For a brief moment, it felt as if the bitter cold of her aura warmed, and a blast of remembered senses flooded my mind: warm sun, soft grass, a cool summer breeze, and a smooth, delicate hand in mine. This was such a lovely conversation—maybe I should leave before that changes.

No, wait, I begged. There’s something I need to know before you go.

Oh? Amusement colored her voice as a soft humming circled my head. And what might that be?

I called on the memory of one of my final moments in the Shadebinder tunnels and watched it replay in careful detail: I heard the symphony of booming voices from the raging spirit in my chest peeling away at Amaya’s command, dulling in intensity until only a single, sobbing copy of my own voice remained. That…thing. It’s not some evil spirit from the void, is it? I had been unable to fully analyze the information in the heat of the moment, but my conclusion seemed obvious in hindsight. It’s just…me. Somehow, it came from me, didn’t it?

Yes and no. The vague answer lingered in silence as she chose her next words carefully. It’s not my information to give, love, but…you’re more right than you know. You’ll have to ask him if you want the full truth.

Despite the cryptic nature of her answer, I felt a weight lift from my chest. I’ll do that.

Well, this has been…surprisingly nice. I’ll leave you to your, oh, what did you call it? Your basic workouts? The chill began to lift from my body as her voice faded, speaking to me from an ever-increasing distance. Don’t forget, love—I’ll always be there when you call. Forever.

Her presence disappeared before I had a chance to respond, leaving me to reflect on the conversation in silence. It’s not her. It can’t be her. As I thought the words for the hundredth time, I heard a waver of doubt in what had always been a resolute mantra. It’s…not her.

I rubbed my face vigorously with my hands to evade the weighty thoughts, then pulled myself to the edge of the bed, using my newfound alertness to escape the confines of my covers before more intrusive thoughts could find me. “Just go,” I said aloud, pushing myself up onto my remaining foot. “Just go for—”

The words were lost in an awkward grunt as I toppled backwards. My instinctual attempt at balance failed with the absence of the expected counterweight of my left leg, landing me back on the cushioned mattress below me. I gritted my teeth and attempted the maneuver again, this time channeling a rush of mana into my basic suite of combat enhancements. Between my heightened physical abilities and my quickened mind, I was able to compensate for my new center of mass and successfully keep myself upright. “Okay…and now I…uhm…”

A mental image of myself hopping across the room on one leg brought a rush of hot blood to my cheeks, and I lowered myself back down to the mattress with a frustrated sigh. Don’t be stupid—ask for help. Though I knew it was my only true option if I wanted to leave the room, I still sat in embarrassed silence for a full minute before I reached out a pulse of mana to map our suite. The extended mana found Val sitting in a chair at the nearest corner of the common room, seemingly awaiting my summons. Tyr, Marin, and Siv sat together on a long sofa in the center of the room; based on Siv’s despondent expression, I assumed the topic of conversation was her earlier outburst over my deformity.

Hey, Val. My mana flitted across the surface of her skin, immediately rousing her to full alert. Could you come in here? I could use—

Val sprang up from her chair and arrived at my bedroom before I could finish my request. “What do you need, Lux?” she asked, sliding in through the door with the excess momentum from her dash.

I raised my eyebrows at the overenthusiastic display. “I’d like to spend some time with everyone out in the common room. Could you…help me?”

She immediately rushed to the bedside. “I can carry you, if you would like,” she offered, dipping onto one knee.

“What? No, thanks, I’d like to, uhm…I’d rather walk—as much as I can, at least,” I stammered. I slung my arm across her powerful shoulders and hefted the majority of my weight against her, propping myself up on my good leg under her careful supervision. She placed a firm hand beneath my opposite armpit as I began my awkward, hopping journey across the room. “Thank you,” I murmured quietly, turning my head as far away from her gaze as possible.

“It is no trouble,” she answered lightly. “I am glad you are already capable of standing—I had feared your recovery would take much longer. I suppose I should not be surprised.”

The conversation floating out from the common room came to an abrupt end as I shambled into view of the trio. I was happy to see that all signs of Marin’s Mimic had been scrubbed clean from the space; the stone was just as neatly polished as it had been the day we arrived, and the destroyed furniture had been replaced with a matching set. A strange sense of paranoia washed over me as my mind attempted to convince me the entire encounter had been nothing more than a dream, but my next halting step promptly brought me back to the present.

“Lux, it’s good to see you up,” Tyr smiled as Val helped me down into a chair opposite them.

“I’m surprised you didn’t just go back to sleep,” Marin snorted.

“I considered it,” I grinned, “but I think I’ll be good for another few hours.”

Tyr gave Siv a gentle nudge with her elbow as Marin and I shared a laugh. The young girl hopped up from the couch and meandered her way over to my chair, keeping her bright red eyes downturned the entire way. “Lux,” she mumbled, scuffing a tiny shoe against the stone, “I’m sorry if I…made you feel bad about your leg. I didn’t mean to make you sad.” She stared down at her twiddling fingers, pausing as she attempted to remember the next part of her clearly practiced speech. “I shouldn’t talk about how other people look. It’s not nice. I promise I won’t do it again.”

I heard a relieved sigh from Tyr as Siv finished her apology. “Thank you for the apology, Siv. It was very nice,” I said, reaching out to scoop her up onto my lap. “I forgive you.”

She wiggled in place, craning her neck backwards to look up at me. “I don’t want anybody to make Mama sad because she looks different. That means I can’t talk about other people looking different.”

“That’s a very mature thing to say,” I nodded.

“It’s because I’m a big girl! I’m smart!”

Our round of laughter cleared the last remnants of tension from the room. “So, Lux,” Tyr started, “what are you planning to do now? I hope you’ll give yourself some time to rest before you leave for your next mission.”

“I’m not sure I have much of a choice, to be honest. I don’t see myself going anywhere anytime soon—whether I want to or not.” The simple reference to my infirmity was enough to respark my anxiety, but I shoved it down with a laugh. “I’m sure that doesn’t hurt your feelings any,” I grinned at Marin. “You’ll have plenty of time to spend here in Doram.”

She returned my smirk and slid across the couch to loop her arm around Tyr’s waist. “Actually, about that,” Tyr said, her porcelain cheeks flushing a warm, rosy hue, “we…might be leaving before you do.”

I felt my eyebrows shoot up of their own accord. “Oh?”

“I’m taking them to Lybesa,” Marin stated proudly.

“We’re going to see Mari’s house!” Siv exclaimed, slipping down from my lap to zoom across the room in a sudden burst of youthful energy. “We get to go outside! All the way outside!”

“That’s right, sweetie,” Tyr laughed. She relaxed into Marin’s embrace and placed a hand on her knee. “It may sound odd to all of you, but Siv and I have never seen the sky before—neither of us have ever left the Joined Cities.”

“Well, we’re going to change that,” Marin grinned. “I figured that, given the recent events here in Doram, it might be nice to head somewhere a bit more…remote.” She turned to watch Siv dash along the line of windows at the far wall, running as fast as she could to nowhere in particular. “I think we’ve all had enough excitement for one lifetime.”

Warmth blossomed in my chest when I caught the meaning behind her words. “More than enough,” I agreed. “I know a place in Mayaan the three of you could stay for as long as you’d like—it won’t be getting much use from its owners for quite a while, I’m guessing.”

A wide smile spread across Marin’s face. “Lia already offered, and we already refused,” she laughed.

“I believe I’ve finally found a use for some of the reward money you gave me,” Tyr added. Her hand tapped excitedly back and forth across Marin’s knee, causing her to squirm beneath the unintentional tickling assault. “It’ll be nice to have a place I can call my own.”

“So, when are you leaving? Should I go get Lia so we can see you off?” I asked, turning to look back towards the bedchambers.

“Oh, Primes, no!” Tyr exclaimed. “We’re staying here until you’ve had a chance to recover. I wouldn’t feel right leaving you like this—not after everything you’ve done for us.”

“She wouldn’t feel right about it,” Marin emphasized. “I said we should’ve left two days ago.” The statement earned her a sidelong glare from Tyr, but Marin smiled all the more for it.

“You don’t have to stay here on my account. I’ll be happy knowing you’re all safe and sound back in Lybesa,” I smiled. “Besides, I think I’m about as recovered as I’ll ever be at this point.”

“Please don’t rush yourself on our account,” Tyr said. “Mental recovery is just as important as physical recovery. I understand you have business to attend to elsewhere, but your health should come first. Besides, if your plans are still the same, I don’t believe you have any reason to rush—there’s nothing of interest in the Eastern Forest.”

A bolt of pain split through my mind and sent a surge of adrenaline through my body. Unfamiliar images drawn in neon crimson flashed through my head too fast to fully track; I saw an endless expanse of trees growing above miles of uninterrupted voidglass, and somewhere beneath it all, a strangely mundane stone sarcophagus with nothing but dust inside. The world suddenly warped beneath me, and I felt myself swaying side to side as my chest continued to heave.

Val’s steadying grip on my shoulder banished the sudden bout of vertigo. “Lux, are you alright?” she asked, having appeared at my side at some point during my brief dissociation.

“I’m, uhm…yeah,” I nodded. My mind raced to identify the visions while I scanned the worried faces of my companions. What was that? None of the unsettling images seemed related to anything in my recent memory, which only left me feeling more uncomfortable. “Sorry about that, guys,” I chuckled, attempting to relieve their concern. “I got a bit dizzy there—might have something to do with not having eaten anything in four days.”

“Oh, of course!” Tyr sprang up from the couch and hurried to the foyer, returning a moment later with a small tray of bread, cheese, and cured meats. “Marin, could you get the pitcher for me?”

Marin narrowed her eyes and shot me an exaggerated frown, then hopped up to help Tyr. When she returned to the common area with the requested pitcher and set of cups, she paused to peer back down the hallway. “Hey, I thought you were supposed to be getting some rest!”

“I couldn’t sleep.” Lia shuffled into the room a moment later, rubbing her face vigorously. “It doesn’t feel right without—Lux!” She rushed across the room, her lethargy completely forgotten as she hurried to my side. “I didn’t think you’d be out of bed so soon.”

“Oh, you know me,” I said, giving her a gentle smile. “I’m not one for lying around.”

“Uhm, yes you are,” Marin scoffed, setting the pitcher on a small table beside me. “That’s all you do.”

“Marin, please,” Tyr chided her, looping an arm around her waist and leading her back to their couch. “Please, have something to eat—both of you,” she instructed us as she sat down. “We’ll get fresh meals for dinner tonight, but you should at least have something before then.”

“Hi, Lia!” Siv skidded to a halt in front of us, pausing just long enough to grab a thin slice of meat before she careened off down the hall leading to her bedroom.

“Siv, don’t run while you’re eating, sweetie!” Tyr yelled, hesitantly watching her daughter as she debated whether or not she should follow along behind her. Marin seized the opportunity to leave our mundane conversations behind and chased after the small girl, drawing shrieks of delight from somewhere out of view. “There’s never a dull moment with those two,” Tyr smiled, giving us a quick half-bow before she hurried off after them.

I helped myself to the tray of food, stealing a small heel of bread and a particularly hard block of cheese to snack on. Lia took a similar selection before she forcibly squeezed herself into the small empty space beside me; though the chair was clearly designed for a single occupant, I found her closeness comforting as she curled up next to me, nestling against my chest with a soft sigh. “This is better,” she murmured, taking a small bite of bread. “I could sleep here.”

“Please do,” I said, draping my arm across her shoulders. “I’ll probably join you.”

“Before you do, there is something we need to discuss,” Val said, moving to the now-empty couch across from us. “Guildmaster Halvaar requested that I inform him when you awoke. He would like to speak with you about what happened during your confrontation with the leader of the Shadebinders.”

“No, not now,” Lia groaned, burying herself deeper in the shelter of my extended arm. “Didn’t you already talk to him about that stuff?”

“We had a cursory discussion after our return to the castle,” Val acknowledged, “but I did not give him a full debriefing. I believed it best to wait until after Lux had awoken—I did not want to reveal any information you wished to keep secret.”

“Thanks, Val. I appreciate it.” I hadn’t had time to consider either of Doram’s rulers since I had woken, but I knew the meeting was inevitable. “I guess I should meet up with them to find out what’s been going on since the Mimics died.” A gentle tug on my collar turned my face down to Lia’s, where I was met with two large, sparkling discs of amber set in a pitiful, pleading expression. “Maybe…later tonight, though,” I conceded, helpless to resist her puppy-dog eyes. “After sundown.”

“I believe that will be more than acceptable,” Val said. “I will go inform them now.”

I sank back into the chair with a long sigh after Val exited the suite, leaving Lia and me alone in the common room. “It never ends,” I mumbled, taking a bite of the sharp, pungent cheese and crackling bread.

“You don’t have to meet with them if you don’t want to,” Lia told me, gently patting my chest. “You’ve earned a rest.”

“I know, but I’m at least a little curious about what’s been happening,” I replied. “Without the Mimics, Doram’s mining operations are going to be…strained, to say the least. I’m interested to hear what they’re going to do about it.”

Lia bobbed her head quietly in reply while she nibbled on her slice of bread and cheese. “Are you okay, Lux?” she asked after a moment’s pause.

“I’m…” I trailed off, adjusting to the sudden change of topic. “I’m okay, I think. I’m just trying to keep myself distracted—to keep my mind off of…things.” I kept my eyes firmly locked with hers, refusing to look down at the injury that threatened to swallow me whole at any moment.

“I know it’s going to be hard, but you’ll have to think about it eventually,” she said, tracing the line of my jaw with her thumb.

“I know, just…not now,” I breathed. “I can’t handle it right now.”

Her hand wrapped up around my neck and pulled my head down to rest atop hers. “That’s okay,” she whispered. “Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be here to help you, no matter what you need.”

A flood of amber energy washed over me and filled my body with a comforting warmth. Thank you, I told her silently.

I closed my eyes and basked in the golden light, allowing my muscles to finally relax. For a brief moment, the whole of the world fell away behind the brilliant golden glow of Lia’s aura; her presence uplifted me from the confines of my broken body, pulling me away from the infirmity that would forever change my life. My ephemeral nightmare of the vast expanse of trees and black glass was banished as our minds conjoined, and I felt my first moment of true peace since the Mimics had arrived.

***