Page 132 of An Honored Vow

Riven’s mouth parted as if he could taste the laughter in the air. “Our dreams,” he whispered. It was half hope, half question.

I leaned forward so my forehead pressed against his chin. “Build us a home, Riven, and I will join you in a year.”

ONE YEAR LATEREPILOGUE

THE SINGLE SUN SHONEdown on us while the salty air wafted through my hair. It tickled my shoulders as I basked in the sunlight. It meant we were safe at least until the night came, but awaateyshirakhadn’t been spotted near Koratha in months. Gerarda and her team had slain most of the surviving beasts, and I had quickly grown used to the peace.

I was glad to find that peace did not mean quiet. I sat for dinner each night with a rumbling belly and crawled into bed only dreaming of all the work I would do on the morrow. My hands had traded swords for hammers and axes. I forged homes by hand and with my gifts. Twelve short months and most of the cities had been repaired. At least well enough for the Elverin to start living in them again.

This was the last place on my list. The last home I wanted to make, not for me, but for all the Halflings who had grown up here too. I glanced at the crowd that had formed along the island.Shades stood in groups, some had babes hung along their hips, while others stood in solemn couples ready to pay their respects to the ones we’d lost.

The Order was gone. It took weeks to clear the broken stone, and even though I could have patched the palace with my earth magic, I’d told the Elverin to clear it all away.

New beginnings shouldn’t be haunted by ghosts.

But the ground remembers the roots even if the trees do not. I hadn’t understood the depth of what Syrra had told me until after we’d won. Now I could only hope that she would be proud of what this island was to become. All those who had attendedNiikir’nawere not alive to pass those teachings on. And all of us who had lived at the Order wanted more than what we’d been given here.

I pulled the gold chain that had hung around my neck for the past year until the metal snapped. Nikolai stepped forward, a chain anddiizradangling from his palm too. He had decided there was no place else Syrra would rather be laid to rest. I grabbed his hand, and we walked over to where Myrrah was already waiting for us. She had worn herdiizrafor over a year.

She hadn’t hesitated when I told her what I wanted to do. “Hildy would love it,” she had whispered, holding her lover’s ashes in her hands as I held Brenna’s in mine.

Gerarda stood. Her hair was no longer short but flowed between her shoulder blades in the same half braid Syrra had worn. The golden blade was sheathed behind her back as always. I didn’t know if it was the sword or the pride radiating from her cheeks, but she appeared taller somehow. Lighter, perhaps.

“It’s time,” Gerarda whispered, looking up at the sun that was about to hit midday.

Myrrah pulled herdiizrafrom underneath her robe and handed it to Gerarda. Nikolai pressed his lips to his before placing the pouchin her other hand. I didn’t give mine to her. Instead, I knelt along the grass and dug a hole with my bare hands. The damp earth clung to the callouses along my palms and caked under my nails, but I didn’t care. I wanted the final resting place of the three women who had loved me, trained me, and befriended me to be warmed by my hand.

When the hole was deep enough, I placed all I had left of Brenna in the earth. A warmth spread through my limbs as I covered herdiizra,finally laying her to rest. I had taken her with me across the entire continent. Myrrah had sailed me in circles as I searched for the perfect spot. The place that Brenna would have claimed as her own if she had lived. But nowhere was good enough. No view was pretty enough to settle in for eternity. So Brenna traveled all of Elverath only for me to bring her back to the only place she’d ever been. Yet I knew that was what she would’ve wanted. To rest easy upon the land she died on, standing as its protector, knowing it had been freed.

The wind whistled, and I swore it was the airy sound of Brenna’s laugh. I patted the ground and three tears fell onto the soil as Nikolai did the same with Syrra’sdiizrato my left and Gerarda helped Myrrah bury Hildegard’s to my right.

I stood and turned to the crowd behind me. Each person saved by the efforts of the Elverin we were laying to rest. Elaran broke from the group to help Myrrah take her place along the front of the crowd while Gerarda walked behind the small graves, her hands tucked behind her back. The two branches Syrra had carved into her shoulders were proudly on display. Tensing, she lifted her chin to look at me. “Are you ready?”

I nodded. Gerarda’s harrowing voice drifted over the island, slow like a tide at first, but then as thrashing and commanding as the fiercest wave.

“Ish’kavra diiz’bithir ish’kavra.”

From ash to flame to ash again.

A drum sounded in the distance and Gerarda’s song warmed. She smiled as the final words left her lips, the ritual finally complete.

“El miinik dor zaagith dor miinik’awaa.”

From seed to sprout to seed again.

I raised my arm over the ground and let myself be consumed by my magic. I had no thoughts, I had no intentions, I just let that warmth overwhelm me until the earth shook and golden light fell upon my cheeks. Thick roots burrowed into the ground underneath us in all directions.

Gargantuan trees sprouted from the island, each taller and larger than the Order that had once stood on the same ground. They were not Elder birch, nor willow like the Myram, but something altogether new. Fused at the base, they created a giant circle protected by a canopy of vines and flowers. Each trunk had a door, lit by faelights that illuminated the halls inside. They braided together, three distinct trees for three distinct warriors.

We had taken our prison and turned it into a home.

The crowd cheered as the three trees took their final shape. They rushed forward, eager to explore their new home, but I stayed rooted to the ground. Riven stood behind me. Even though he had kept to his word and given me space for the year, he did not rush me now. He only stood close enough for me to know he was there, but the choice was mine. I could feel the trepidation radiating off his skin. The year had healed us both in so many ways, but I knew Riven was still scared that I would not choose him at the end of it. The silly Halfling didn’t realize this year had been exactly that. Me choosing him—us—so we could last a lifetime.

A year in the face of forever was nothing. And now we could begin again as we always should have been. Two whole people wanting to braid their lives together. No war or death to act as a catalyst. Just a simple choice. And I would always choose Riven.

I pushed off the ground and wiped my knees. I didn’t turn to face him; instead I just walked backward, taking in the gigantic size of the tree in front of me until my back was pressed against his chest. Even then he didn’t move. I lifted my arm and let my head rest in the crook of his neck as I played with his short hair. He’d shorn it completely to make enough braids for the funerals and had kept his hair only a few inches long. I turned my head to look at him and smiled when I saw he was already studying me.

His face was bright and his skin tanned from hours spent outside tending to the Halflings who split their time between Vellinth and the other cities. He buried his face in my hair, and I leaned against him, my body yearning for the touch I hadn’t had for a year. It was a gentler touch, warmer too. As if both of us had learned to shine and now shone brighter as we stood together.

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