So is the wyvern.
I stretch out my neck, groaning, even as panic races through me.
Shadows no longer lick eagerly around my limbs, meaning it must have worked. The paldihv must have joined itself to Nox.
I find what relief I can in that, considering he’s gone.
When I scramble out of the alcove, careful to avoid the streams of sunlight that burst through the scattered holes in the ceiling, I can’t help but cry on the inside.
Nox is gone, the voice inside my head tells me. Except it’s not my voice at all, but the parasite’s, whispering to me through the adamant box strapped to my belt.
The wyvern skewered him straight through his beautiful abdominals. Took him off on a ride. I do wonder where it will drop him. Perhaps it’ll make a meal out of him instead.
Nausea rolls inside me, but I push the parasite’s voice out of my head.
A liar, that’s what she is.
But if it’s not true, then where is Nox, and why would he have abandoned me?
I shake my head, reminding myself that he probably ran off to lure the wyvern away.
That’s likely what happened.
That has to be what happened.
And you call me the liar, whispers the parasite, when you’re so proficient at lying to yourself. There’s no need for me to even try. You’d only outdo me.
I push it away, running through the halls, frantically searching. For who, I’m not sure. Nox? Asha? Kiran? Evander?
Evander.
He’s going to die here today, and it’s all my fault.
I’m going to have single-handedly wiped his name from the face of Alondria.
My footsteps pad against the ground, but I find they have no direction.
This is my fault, I realize, when another part of the roof collapses, a huddle of servants screaming out in terror as it comes crumbling atop them.
I race for them, grabbing one from the path of the oncoming ceiling, but she’s screaming, screaming out for her husband, who I was too slow to save as the falling stone crushes him.
The servant screams, clawing at my neck, cursing me for saving her and leaving her husband to die.
There’s a faint buzzing in my ears.
And something else.
The sound of a voice it’s taking me a second to recognize.
Because it’s the voice of a male shouting orders. The voice of one who protects.
The voice of a king.
I follow the voice down the hall, as if in a trance, and then I see him from the shadows where I lurk. Down, lower than the balcony, is a garden.
And in the garden is Evander.
He’s arrayed like royalty, bearing the blue of Dwellen on his armor, which glistens in the sunlight, coated with a material I don’t recognize.
A female stands beside him, and it takes me a moment to recognize Princess Olwen.
There’s a male fighting in rhythm with Olwen, as if their tree limbs are simply extensions of one another.
I can’t see the wyvern they fight from this angle, but I hear it shrieking down at the fae who fight at it from below.
I’m suspended in time as I watch him. The male who looks like Andy, but isn’t. There’s something about him that’s changed on an innate level, something about him that’s so unfamiliar, it’s painful to watch.
Painful, but also beautiful.
I realize Andy has grown into himself. That I wasn’t there to witness it.
There’s a strength in him I don’t recognize; never have I felt so disconnected.
I watch him fight. Watch him defend as I’m helpless to lend him assistance as I hide in the shadows.
I realize then what must have changed him.
Ellie’s cries pierce my ears and make me want to scream.
