Page 103 of Storm of Stars
If we’d toppled Praxis earlier… If we’d won more trials sooner… Maybe he could’ve had more than sixteen years on this Earth. Maybe he could’ve had twenty. Maybe he could still be here with me now.
Praxis has been a distant memory for fifteen years, but its corruption… it still lingers. Still claims lives. It probably always will. You can’t undo a century of destruction overnight. Healing takes time. Justice takes time.
But I’ve learned I can’t live in the what-ifs anymore.
Every single year I got to spend with Jax was a gift. A miracle Praxis never meant for us to have. And I won’t taint his memory by drowning it in bitterness.
I smiled as I looked down at the flowers, vibrant against the grey stone.
“I miss you so much. Thank you for holding on,” I said. “For staying as long as you could. I hope you’re still watching the stars somewhere.”
And in the breeze that whispered through the grass, I almost heard him say,I always am.
“Jaxson is unruly as ever, taking after his uncle,” I said with a soft laugh, brushing a bit of moss from the top of the stone. “I swear he gets more like you every single day. I wish you could have met him. You would’ve adored him.”
Just as the words left my mouth, a familiar shriek pierced the stillness.
“Momma!”
I turned just in time to catch the blur of motion that was my four-year-old, as he barreled into my arms with full-force enthusiasm. I laughed, steadying myself as I wrapped him up in a hug.
“Hey there, sprout,” I murmured, smiling at my wild, bright-eyed boy.
“Jaxson Kade! Momma said to stay over here!” came the exasperated call from a little ways off.
My oldest approached with the kind of composed exasperation only an older sibling could master. Her brown eyes were a mirror of Briar’s, shimmering with intelligence and calm. Her dark brown curls bounced with each step, and her face was peppered with the freckles I used to count on one of her father’s noses. At eight, she already walked like someone older than her years, steady, graceful, and sharp-eyed.
“Come on over, you two,” I said, reaching out and pulling her close while settling both kids on my lap. Their warmth against me made the air feel a little less heavy. “Come say hi to your uncle.”
“Hi, Uncle Jax,” Fenly Lark said, lifting a hand to wave at the stone with a knowing, gentle smile.
“Hi!” Jaxson echoed brightly, bouncing a little where he sat.
“Do you think he can hear us?” She asked, her voice soft.
“Oh, I know he can,” I replied, smoothing a hand through her curls.
“Really?” Jaxson twisted around in my arms to look up at me with wide, earnest eyes.
“Absolutely,” I said with certainty.
“Okay.” He slid off my lap, kneeling solemnly before the headstone. “Psst, Uncle Jax… can you tell Dada Ezra that he should let me have ice cream tonight?”
A bright, bubbling laugh escaped me just as I heard the steady crunch of approaching footsteps.
“You don’t need to bribe your uncle to get ice cream, kiddo,” Ezra said warmly, sweeping Jaxson up into his arms with ease. Jaxson shrieked in playful protest, kicking his feet as Ezra hoisted him into the air. “I told you all you needed to do was clean your room.”
Ezra looked... older, yes, but time had only sharpened what made him captivating. His salt-and-pepper hair suited him so well, giving him a kind of steady presence. The creases around his eyes were more defined now, but they only made his smiles warmer, richer. I still remembered the first time I saw him, lit up on that stage, like an unobtainable mystery but this version of him, the father, the partner. This version was even more beautiful.
“He’s right, you know,” Zaffir said, strolling up with that casual swagger he never lost. He leaned down conspiratorially toward Jaxson, who was now hanging upside down in Ezra’s arms. “You can just ask me. You know I can’t say no to you.”
His fiery red hair had softened into something more burnished now, a deeper copper threaded with strands of silver at the temples. His golden eyes, still as vivid as ever, had taken on a tender quality I didn’t know I’d fallen in love with until long after we’d begun. Time had sanded away his sharp edges, but left behind the most brilliant shine.
“What your father is trying to say,” Ezra added, shooting a faux-annoyed glance at Zaffir, “is that you can have ice cream when you finish cleaning your room.”
“But Dada, no fair!” Jaxson pouted, dramatically flopping his head back.
“Yeah, Dada,” Zaffir echoed with a matching pout. “No fair.”
