EPILOGUE

Three years later . . .

Drystan came back every year.

“Hello love,” Drystan smiled as they were reunited upon the hilltop on which Izzie and Iagan were both laid to rest amidst a field of flowers; stones marking their place in the earth.

A slight breeze picked up out of nowhere and engulfed his entire being with happiness and love. The scent of flowers sparking a memory of Izzie smiling across at him.

The sun had started to make its descent into the horizon but there were still a few hours of sunlight left in the day and as Drystan turned and looked down at the village, now thriving, where once it had been charred to the ground.

Brandon had really done an excellent job in restoring Isadora’s old village back to life; there was even a statue of her and Iagan in the town square as a memorial to their sacrifice.

Drystan hated that word; ‘sacrifice’.

It had taken him a few years to come to terms with the fact that Izzie hadn’t sacrificed herself; she had died on her own terms and in own time.

He hadn’t seen it at the time, too eclipsed by his grief that no one could bear being around him for the first year, as he blamed himself for her death.

If he had gotten to her sooner, saw what the prince was doing- but Drystan now knew it wouldn’t have changed anything. Izzie still would have died doing what she loved but now she could rest in peace with her family.

He still had his bad days but he could feel her love in the wind; every time he spoke to her or thought about her a sudden gush of wind would wrap around him like a blanket.

“Hello to you too, Iagan,” Drystan chuckled when the breeze turned cold until he could his breath in the air, knowing that his Scottish friend was watching as well.

The air turned warm once more and Drystan ran his fingers across Izzie’s gravestone, “So here we are,” Drystan couldn’t believe that the day had come, “Brandon’s wedding day. But you didn’t want to hear about that . . .” Drystan smiled softly, “Iagan, you’ll like this one,” Drystan nodded to the sky as he started to speak about his latest adventures.

* * *

Izzie smiled as she listened to Drystan tell them about his exploits, brandishing his sword in the air as he acted it out for them, but little did he know that Izzie had been with him every step of the way.

She just wished he would stop looking at the sky; she was right in front of him.

Dressed in the long flowing white gown the angels had put her in, she had tried to keep her armour but they wouldn’t allow such things up there. This dress only reminded her of something she should have worn on her wedding day with Drystan.

“He’ll be fine,” Iagan suddenly appeared by her side, the same pure aura around his entire being.

Ever since he had been reunited with his family, Iagan was sickeningly positive and happy. It made Izzie weary to be around him because of all her time on earth he had been the grumpiest man she’d ever met.

Aside from Drystan, but even now as she turned back and gazed upon her love, she could see that his eyes no longer held the heavy burden on her death.

Izzie was glad of that. It had never been his fault; she had gone into the fight knowing exactly what was going to happen.

She was just happy that she hadn’t met the prince in the afterlife because if she had she might just have been the first person to kill in heaven.

“Drystan!”

Iagan and Izzie turned and looked down the hill to where Jarred and Dermot were waving Drystan down.

Izzie smiled at seeing her old friends again; she had checked in with them every so often. Iagan had spared Dermot an arrow to the shoulder in his last battle.

Little things like a slight change of wind was all that Izzie and Iagan could effect now. But it was enough.

“It’s time, Drystan.” Jarred stopped beside Dermot; their eyes sinking in the gravestones and where they looked out over her old village.

“The wedding!” Izzie gasped as she remembered why they were here; she had been looking forward to this ever since she had read the announcement.

Izzie had been begging Drystan to attend so she could go with him; she would never leave his side.

* * *

The entire kingdom was in uproar as everyone prepared for the King’s wedding day.

“Whoa,” Jarred swiftly ducked as a servant of the King lifted a ladder on his shoulder and swung it around at head level, “Everyone’s gone insane,” Jarred watched the servant totter off.

“It’s a wedding,” Dermot chuckled as he snatched an apple from a basket on the buffet table and sunk his teeth into its juicy centre, "Plus, the plague has gone. People need a bit of happiness again,"

“Well, remind me never to get married,” Jarred grumbled as he squeezed himself through a crowd.

Drystan laughed as they made it to the front steps, “But you’re not a king so I don’t think you have anything to worry about,”

“Thomas!” Dermot threw the apple away and hurried up the steps as they saw their old friend, the monk.

Drystan grasped Thomas by the hand in greeting; Thomas had grown up a lot. His figure was fuller but that might have been all the courtly food he was consuming, and his face had filled out until he looked rather pleasing to the eye.

“How’s the religion going?” Jarred leant against the wall, his eyes watching a lovely maid as she sauntered passed.

Drystan shook his head at his friend.

“Unwavering,” Thomas smiled, growing more comfortable in his skin, “Now come on, let me show you to your rooms so you can get changed,”

“Changed?” Drystan frowned but Thomas was already halfway down the hall so they had little option but to follow him.

“Izzie!” Iagan hissed as he remained outside in the hallway but Izzie liked her view inside Drystan’s room too much to move.

She might be dead but it didn’t mean she was blind.

“Izzie!” Iagan snapped again in that thick Northern accent she had had to live with for the past three years.

“There’s the Iagan I know,” Izzie chuckled as she leant against the wall, her eyes glued to Drystan’s impressive torso before he untied his trousers and stripped nude in front of her.

Izzie had missed this.

Standing beside Drystan, Izzie gazed up at the bronze statue of her and Iagan in front of the castle chapel with disdain.

Iagan looked dreadfully frightening with his body poised mid run, his axe stretched out in front of him with his face contorted in a war cry.

But Izzie’s statue had been feminised; thankfully they hadn’t put her in a dress but they made her hair long and flowing like a sirens and her face was serene despite the fact that they were meant to be in the middle of battle.

She hadn’t died for them to muck everything up.

“I like it,” Iagan gazed lovingly up at his figure.

“You would,” Izzie snapped, shaking her head in disgust at the masons who had built it, “Who designed this!?” Izzie shouted, turning to see if anyone would answer her.

“They can’t hear you, remember?” Iagan chuckled.

“Oh,” Izzie frowned and stared up at the statue with dilemma; how was she supposed to tell them that they’d gotten it wrong?

“Oh, here comes lover boy,” Iagan tried to make a joke of it but Izzie spun around and came face to face with Drystan, he dressed in his sleek black new clothes and their noses were almost touching.

Izzie held her breath in shock; if she closed her eyes she could just feel the electricity sparking between them.

Lifting her hand against his chest, if she concentrated she could almost feel him.

And yet he didn’t even know she was there; he just stood gazing up at the statue with that same indiscernible expression on his face.

The first time Izzie had seen him after her death she had tried shouting his name, even punching him in the head but he couldn’t hear her and her hand just went straight through.

It was useless to think that he could feel her.

“I visited her grave yesterday,” Thomas appeared behind Drystan making him turn away from her.

“Thomas,” Drystan sighed when he saw who had approached from behind.

“I was thinking of that day in the square where the prince made Isadora and I fight,” Thomas sighed, “I asked her after if she had always planned on killing Colt or if she had actually wanted to kill me,”

“Thomas-” Drystan turned and faced him.

“-She said,” Thomas carried on, ignoring Drystan, “That she would do anything to protect her family and that family meant . . .”

“. . . You,” Izzie whispered, when she remembered the conversation.

“Us,” Thomas smiled up at Drystan, “I have to believe that she died for something,”

“She did,” Drystan smiled, resting his hand on Thomas’s shoulder, “She did die for something,”

“Are you two going to stand around there all day or are you actually planning on coming to the wedding at some point,” Dermot shouted behind them and Drystan spun around to see that everyone was starting to pile into the church.

“We’re coming,” Thomas gave one last smile up at the statue before hurrying inside.

Izzie couldn’t quite breathe right as she watched her extended family walk away when a girl in the crowd was suddenly pitched forward, her shoes getting trapped under her dress.

Drystan saw the beautiful blonde girl shriek as she took a tumble, straight towards the statue, and he darted out and caught her around the waist.

Izzie watched the two as Drystan set her back on her feet and the girl gazed up lovingly at Drystan.

Izzie wanted to storm in and separate them but she couldn’t. She couldn’t stop Drystan from moving on; it had been three years since her death.

“Are you alright?” Drystan asked the young girl, her blue eyes so wide that he could get lost in them forever.

“Y- Yes, thank you,” The girl replied, “I- I must get in,”

“Of course,” Drystan stepped back to allow her entry when she suddenly turned to him and with those perfect blue eyes, her golden locks, she smiled.

“I shall see you at the reception?”

“Yes,” Drystan nodded his head and she hurried off, all the while Drystan just thought that he had been betraying Izzie’s trust.

Looking over his shoulder at the statue, he gazed at Izzie’s serene and beautiful face.

Izzie stepped forward, seeing the battle that was raging in his heart, and placed her hand against his cheek as much as she could, “Live, Drystan,” Izzie pleaded for him, “Live.”

She didn’t want to see him wasting his life by clinging onto her memory. She couldn’t let him live like that and it would only hurt them both to see it.

Soon he would hate her for keeping him bound to her.

Stirring up the wind one last time until a warm breeze engulfed the pair of them.

Rose petals were scooped up from the ground until they hung in the air around them but Izzie just looked at Drystan as he gazed around him in wonder.

“Izzie,” Drystan whispered in amazement.

“Goodbye, my love,” Izzie leaned up and pressed a kiss against his lips, the electricity sparking between them, she stopped the wind until the rose petals fell back to the ground and she stepped away.

Izzie watched as Drystan was reluctantly pulled into the church but just before the doors were shut he turned around and smiled straight at her.

Not at her statue, at her.

Izzie gasped; could he see her? But as soon as it came, his eyes flickered back up to the sky and with a smile of happiness he turned and left.

Izzie watched as the doors were closed on that chapter of her life.

“He’ll be fine,” Iagan clasped his hand around her shoulder, “You’ll see,”

Izzie nodded her head when they both turned and saw that their families were calling them back home once again.

“Let’s go, they’re waiting for us,” Iagan whispered as he held out his hand for hers.

With one last look over her shoulder, Izzie took a deep breath and slipped her hand into Iagan’s.

In the arms of a friend and in the embrace of her family, Izzie said goodbye.

THE END.

A very last note - please do me a favour and check out the video of Maggie Siff singing 'Lullaby for a Soldier'. The words and emotion fit this ending perfectly :) Thank you for reading my book and I wish you all the best in the future X