Throughout Xenovia, warriors were mourning. They were beginning the long process of restoring their city after a barrage of godly and Angelic magical attacks.
A god was dead, scorched by my Angellight and the ashes disposed of. Ambrisk was free of his threat.
And in his place, an innocent soul had been claimed.
I tried to feel down the broken Bind, but nothing answered.
My knees were pulled to my chest. The dunes beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows wavered, their shapes indeterminable in my cloudy vision.
“Drink something,apeagna,” Tolek whispered from his spot beside me. As he had every so often all day. He hadn’t left. No one had, but he remained close enough for me to touch when I needed to.
Numbly, I did as I was told, then looked back over the dunes. At the way the gold light shimmered along their rounded tops. At the way?—
Gold light.
I sat up straighter. At my sudden movement, everyone jumped.
“The sunsets in Xenovia are deeper,” I muttered.
And then, I was out the door. Running. Hope inflating the empty void of the Bind severance.
I tore through the yard, footsteps hounding me because they all saw it now, too.
Damien had returned. He descended from the sky in the direction of the mountains, gold ether tumbling off his wings and dusting the sand.
And in his arms?—
“Malakai,” I gasped.
Alive and grinning to see us all sprinting for him. Alive and his heart beating strongly enough that I could hear it from feetaway. Alive and with a ghastly scar distorting his North Star tattoo?—
Butalive.
And despite the pain of the severed Bind, pure bliss ignited in my chest as Mila launched herself at Malakai. As he sank to the ground with her sobbing in his arms, and Tolek and Cypherion piled on top of them. Then, Barrett and Jezebel, Santorina yelling at them all not to hurt him after what he went through.
And when he finally emerged and stood, pulling me in for a hug, my head fell right against that North Star scar. Tears streaked down my face, but the quiet kind. The kind that were relieved to hear his heart beating and couldn’t quite believe this was happening.
“I thought the stars stopped shining,” I said, barely more than a whisper as my voice cracked.
“Never, Phel,” he promised, squeezing me tight. His leather and honeysuckle scent was achingly familiar, and a fresh wave of tears started anew when I considered I almost never smelled it again. “Those stars are never going to stop shining.”
Never. Malakai had fought his way back to us.
Jezebel wedged herself between us, her arms tight around Malakai’s waist. “How?” she asked, voice thick as he hugged her back.
“The Undertaking,” Malakai said.
My eyes widened, flicking between him and Damien. “You completed it?”
Tolek and Cypherion cheered, Mila holding tight to Malakai’s hand and gazing up at him. But Malakai shook his head. “I couldn’t. Not being dead, but given what I sacrificed, the ritual could restore me back to life.”
“So, you didn’t ascend to become a full warrior?” Mila asked, squeezing his hand.
“No,” Malakai answered and wrapped his arm around her. “I was too far gone for that. The Spirit Fire just restoredme.”
“How does that feel?” Cypherion asked warily.
Malakai dragged his tongue over his teeth, assessing all of us. “It feels right,” he confirmed. “I didn’t want to complete the Undertaking. I’m happy without it.”
