Someone I went to school with back in Minnesota once told me that you can boil a frog to death without it trying to escape. She expined that if you started with cold water, and then slowly heated it up over time, the frog wouldn’t notice until it was too te. Needless to say...I didn’t talk to her so much after that. But it did make me think.

  Things just kept getting more complicated. More dangerous. For months, I thought that Balgaur was the biggest threat to my life. But he was only serving someone even worse than him. And regardless of if Vhinrud was the man described in the prophecy or not, it didn't mean he was going to leave us alone. He wanted our neckces. And he didn’t care who died so long as he had them in his hands. He clearly didn't care about consequences, either. Legal or otherwise. The Rime Guard searched for him all across Alselian, but so far, they hadn't had any luck. He was smart enough to keep out of their reach. There was a possibility that Shaye, Ashkan and I might not be able to do the same. Although I tried not to let that bother me, if only because of all the mystery still surrounding it all, a feeling remained at the back of my skull: Perhaps Vhinrud wouldn't be the spearhead of the alleged upcoming war – which, honestly, I'd developed an inkling was right around the corner – but he could certainly be an integral piece; a catalyst. Someone who definitely wouldn't make things any easier. Or the bde that ended our lives if he really wanted to be.

  Was I a frog, boiling in water that had been heating up slowly over the course of half a year? Were we all? And what if there was no one monitoring the pot?

  I groaned and pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes until stars twinkled. When I opened them again, Ashkan was looking at me from across the Academy's outdoor picnic table. The rest of our friends chatted around us. He said nothing, only tilted his head. A question.

  Feeling all right?

  I gave him a faint nod. It wasn't entirely the truth, but it wasn't a lie, either. The truth was far too complicated.

  He and I would do that sometimes – check in with one another with only the slightest change in our body nguage. No words required. I guess it helped that he was a pro at reading expressions, and that I wore my emotions like a t-shirt. But, then again, it was nice to not need to voice some of my problems. I'd noticed Ash had become noticeably more quiet since his abduction almost three weeks ago. He couldn't remember almost anything about it though, so it wasn't due to traumatic memories. Perhaps he just felt like he had to keep his guard up. That maybe the danger had not fully passed yet. Or maybe he was anxious it'd happen again. I just hoped he wasn't wishing he could remember. He didn't need that. And nobody dared remind him.

  I had no reason to be frustrated with Ashkan for retreating into his shell a bit. I found myself wanting to do the same more and more these days. I wasn't used to this feeling; the fear that always seemed to lurk behind everything. The constant waiting. The helplessness that was teetering on nihilism. But maybe the truth of the matter was that I was simply too scared to get lost in my own head. The other week had proved it to be a very dark pce, after all. Well, everyone else seemed to be thinking it. The obsidian bangle on my wrist only bolstered that idea.

  Ashkan frowned slightly at my nonverbal answer. Then, without even thinking, I felt my composed expression slip. He sighed, knowing that I wasn't okay at all, but just trying to be polite. And I let out a sigh, too, knowing that he knew. We both turned back to our lunches and continued eating in silence.

  Shaye sat a few people down from us at the end of the table, talking to Lilwen about something. "What should I do? I can't afford to make grades like that a habit!"

  "Nonsense. It is far too early to be thinking about such things," Lilwen assured her. "It was a challenging quiz, and you are quite busy with more pressing matters. There is plenty of time for you to work out what you need to."

  Miseris added, "That's right! The semester just started, Shaye. A seventy-three percent is pretty damn good. It's just that your standard is a ninety."

  "Thank you for reminding me..." she grumbled.

  "No one's expecting you to be perfect except yourself," Viktor pointed out, a few pces down the table. "I, personally, think you're a little too hard on yourself."

  I huffed a ugh. "Valuable input, Captain Obvious."

  "Yeah, do you also think that the sun rises in the morning and sets in the evening?" Ivahr smirked.

  Viktor's brow creased. "Well, excuse me for being sensitive and giving helpful advice."

  "That was helpful advice?"

  Cassius rolled his eyes. "All right, guys, give it a rest." He leaned across the table to address Shaye. "You really should give yourself a break, Shaye. You're putting too much pressure on yourself. You've been tired and stressed. But a seventy-three percent is nothing to scoff at. Besides, it's only worth five percent, and the semester has barely begun. You don't have to ace every single test to do well overall."

  Her head sank into her hands. "A single fme can become an inferno if I'm not careful... And then it's all over."

  Lilwen rubbed Shaye's back, sighing. "If I tell you I believe in you, will that make a difference? You have been so focused on the negative tely. What can you do to get back on track?"

  "Be removed from the prophecy...?" she murmured into the table, as though praying it would come true.

  I couldn't bme her for wanting to be freed from our so-called fate. If the choice had been mine, I wouldn't have wished to be included in something as daunting as that, either.

  "No such luck." Miseris gently punched her shoulder in a way I figured was supposed to be encouraging. "It's going to be okay."

  "You all keep saying that..." Shaye lifted her head to stare at us. "I just... I can't shake this feeling. I've had this horrible gut feeling for weeks, and it just keeps getting worse and worse... When it started, months ago, I had all of this energy. This need to get out of bed. I was always restless and anxious to start my day. But now I feel the exact opposite... I want to stay in bed. I don't want to have to deal with any of this, but I can't avoid it."

  Miseris chewed her lip for a second. "Well, I guess it's true, what they say about a watched pot never boiling. You've been trying too hard to stay one step ahead of everything. Maybe it would do you good to not try so hard and let things be as they're going to be. Right?"

  "It's all in the stars, anyway," Cassius chimed in.

  "Maybe it would help you to meditate more," Lilwen suggested.

  "Or maybe you should just find another outlet," Ivahr interjected, nodding. "I like to hit things when I'm stressed."

  Ashkan let out a small chuckle. "Is that why you're always covered in bruises, then?"

  He grinned. "Possibly."

  "I second the meditate more thing," Viktor added. "You have mountains on your pte, Shaye. That can't be good for your health. And your anxiety's only gotten worse since…a whole bunch of things happened. It's really understandable."

  She rubbed at the spot between her eyebrows. "Maybe I'm not as resilient as I thought..."

  "We're not talking about resilience." Cassius' voice had taken on that older sibling tone I was so used to hearing from him. "This is a matter of coping."

  "The stars, they do not like to be rushed." Lilwen put her arm around Shaye and pulled her into a light side-hug. "You are simply an anxious, sensitive person. I am sorry that this has happened to you. I would change it if I could..."

  "Maybe I am a coward, then," Shaye mused, head tilting in contemption. She seemed to be trying to get to the root of things.

  Lilwen quickly shook her head. "Not at all."

  "How could you be a coward, when you're always fighting for the sake of the world?" Viktor smiled. "You're one of the bravest people I know. Even if you don't see it."

  Ivahr made a quiet 'ooh' sound in response and formed a heart with his hands, positioning Viktor and Shaye right in the centre of it. "Lovebirds. Get a room."

  Viktor smacked his hands down and muttered something definitely impolite. He then grinned sheepishly at Shaye. "I'm not that great with words, but I'll tell you this: You have no reason to worry about your grades. So please don't let this eat away at you, okay?"

  She only shrugged and murmured something, but didn't look very reassured. She had a bad habit of being her own worst enemy sometimes. I could rete to a degree. But while I had a tendency to think too much and simply map out every possible outcome, Shaye liked to pn specifics. She had the future in her mind and was always trying to think about how to get there. It wasn't a bad thing. It was just how she worked. But sometimes that pn got ruined, or there wasn't enough information for it, or it simply didn't work out. And her perfectionism never failed to rear its ugly head and kick her down every time she got stuck.

  "Shaye." I stared at the top of her head until she lifted it again and looked me in the eye. "Stop. Worrying."

  Her bottom lip protruded into a slight pout. "But I–"

  "Don't forget," I said firmly, then gestured between Ashkan and me. "We are right there with you. Always. You're not doing this alone. And as for the grade thing? I know it doesn't seem like it to you, but seventy-three is far from bad. But either way, grades are never an accurate measure of someone's worth."

  Ashkan gave a single, firm nod of agreement. He didn't say a word, but that was okay. He was in perfect agreement.

  Shaye gave us a grateful look and sighed. "Yes... You're right..." She closed her eyes. "Thank you all."

  The three of us had our moments. Our differences and cshing of opinions, as all friends did. We got irritated with each other from time to time, too. But overall, we always came through for each other and had one another's backs. There was nothing in the world that would change that. We'd made an oath, after all, and we were going to keep it, no matter how much life kept changing around us. We had each other. We'd face it all together.

  "...I have something for you that might cheer you up a bit," Ashkan murmured suddenly, breaking the brief silence. He reached into his bag and produced a small wad of bunched-up cloth. He then held it out to Shaye.

  She stared at him for a few seconds, confused, before accepting the bundle. "What's this?"

  "You'll see," he replied, expression serious.

  The others and I exchanged gnces as Shaye unfolded the fabric to reveal its contents: a wide, silver ring with a hammered texture and a smoky blue cabochon in the middle.

  "I can't take this! You must've worked so hard to make it..." She tried to pass it back.

  Ashkan only shook his head. "Add it to your collection. It was just for a project st semester. I don't need it."

  "Wow, mate," Viktor piped up. "You've come a long way. Remember that burnt cy ring you made back in eighth year? With the ugly rock? That was... Something."

  He winced. "Don't remind me." He turned back to Shaye. "It's really not perfect. The metal could have been worked better, and I should have done something smoother for the bezel... So if the gem falls out, let me know. But... I figured you could use it."

  Shaye slipped the ring on, examining it with a jovial expression. "...I love it, Ashkan. Thank you! Truly."

  He shrugged, a tiny smile creeping up. "I know you like gold better, and it's not very...pretty. It's nothing like what your grandfather makes. But it's just been lying around my room for a while."

  She stood up, walked over, and threw her arms around him in a tight hug. "Eeeeee! No. Really! I love it. Thank you so much."

  "You're welcome," Ashkan mumbled, returning the embrace. He seemed pleased that she liked it, but also embarrassed about the attention. He pulled away with a sigh. "All right... It's not that special..."

  She insisted, "It is to me. I still have every piece of jewelry you've ever given me over the years. They mean a lot. But it's fine if you don't agree with that." She poked him on the nose, and he flinched, frowning at the gesture. But his eyes were ughing.

  When she returned to her seat, he arched an eyebrow. "So, you're saying that things don't have to be perfect to be appreciated?"

  She froze. "...Oh. I see what you've done. You sly thing."

  A tiny grin formed, and it made my heart skip a beat. "Yeah? Did it work?"

  "Now I can't say another word without sounding hypocritical. So... Yes. It did. Thank you, Ashkan. For being the wise one for once. And for this." Shaye's eyes sparkled in the light. "It's ever so lovely."

  Ashkan hummed softly in response and then took a bite of his lunch. A few beats of silence passed before he went on, "Um, admittedly, it feels a bit bizarre handing out jewelry when I don't have pieces for everyone. I'm not trying to turn this into a present thing... But... I do have one more piece to get rid of." He fished around in his bag for something else.

  Lilwen peered at him, intrigued. "You are in a giving mood today, it seems."

  "Or he just cleaned out his room," Miseris pointed out.

  "Or he's trying to bribe Shaye for something," Viktor joked.

  Shaye ughed. "To be frank, I can't say that I'd mind this kind of bribery."

  Ashkan chuckled lightly. "You're all ridiculous..." He shrugged, then his eyes brightened a fraction as he pulled his hand from his bag, closed around something. "Anyway, uh... Brie."

  My face started to flush as his eyes found mine, and he held his hand out across the table, opening his fist.

  "Wait, what? Me? Seriously?" I said, eyes wide.

  He gave a slight nod, then gnced down to his outstretched hand and wiggled his fingers impatiently. "Come on. Don't make it a bigger deal than it has to be."

  "Okay..." I gently plucked the wad of linen from his palm.

  Everyone leaned over the table, as curious as I was about what was inside. I peeled away the cloth to reveal a silver, open cuff bracelet with an intricate, wrought metal design. Brocade engravings had been etched into the band to make the piece pop even more. There was no stone, but the metal was pretty shiny. It sort of reminded me of a fancy spoon handle.

  "You don't have to wear it," Ashkan said, voice suddenly soft. "Just figured I'd ask if you wanted it before melting it back down."

  My breath caught in my throat. This is for me? It's too nice to be for me! "...Really?"

  He shrugged again and went back to eating, avoiding eye contact. "Yeah. It was for an engraving assignment. It turned out okay. If you don't look too closely. The proportions are a little off, and there are some scratches on it, and the finish could be better... And the design isn't exactly what I wanted. The whole thing's kind of fwed, really. But it's yours if you want it. I'm more of a leather bracelet man, myself, so it just... Sits on my desk and gets in my way."

  I looked down at the bracelet and just...stared. There were a lot of small details to this thing. How many hours did he spend working on this...? He better have gotten a high mark for it. If he didn't, I'd have a bone to pick with whatever professor taught his bcksmith css.

  Realizing I needed to respond, I gathered my composure. "I could take it off your hands, I suppose." I gave a smile to make him understand I was only teasing. "It's beautiful. Really. Thank you."

  "Mhm. Sure." Ashkan's voice was neutral and almost disinterested, but a smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. "Here, can I see it for a second?"

  I passed it over. "...How'd you make all those tiny swirls and leaves, anyway? It must've taken a lot of time to make all the intricate little lines."

  He paused and gazed at me right in the eye with the kind of look that made me wonder if anyone had ever asked him about his processes before. "Yeah, uh... A lot of them are different sizes, and...there are tiny little burrs and chisels I use... Sometimes it's easier to use a ser. Or magic. Depends on what you're going for… But I like using traditional tools when I can." His eyes returned to the piece in his hand. "Nice thing about open bracelets, too, is you don't really have to worry about size. You can just warp the metal a bit to adjust it. Here..."

  I held out my right hand (obviously) and let Ashkan slide the piece onto my wrist. The opening was a bit too wide, so he cmped both hands around the cuff to close it in a little, pushing the ends closer together. I watched, feeling an odd flutter in my chest.

  "...How's that?" he asked, then seemed to remember he wasn't alone. He gnced at the others.

  "Perfect!" I replied a bit too quickly. I looked around the table to the rest of our friends, who seemed more or less amused. "Um, what do you think, Shaye?"

  She smiled. "It looks wonderful! Quite pretty... If it was golden, I might've had to spar you for it. And the engraving on the sides, that's stunning work, Ashkan. Well done. You'll be a bcksmith legend in no time, at this rate."

  He fshed a smirk and waved it off. "Spare me. I have a long way to go."

  Cassius ughed. "So modest, our Ashkan is."

  "Well, it's not modesty when you're genuinely bad," he insisted, folding his hands beneath his chin. "You can see the imperfections where I overshot with the chisel. See how the grooves aren't entirely smooth, or straight, or deep enough in some parts?"

  I squinted to get a closer look. "That's what gives it character. I like it."

  "I guess it has lots of that, then..." he mumbled.

  "The details are very well done," Lilwen agreed. "It has...heart."

  "Can't put a price on that!" Viktor added.

  Ash looked a tad uncomfortable at the praise. "Okay. You're both welcome. Now can we please change the topic?"

  The group ughed at his expense a bit before finally moving onto a discussion about csses. But I was still fixated on the bracelet he'd just given me. It wasn't like anything else I owned. It wasn't expensive, nor was it fshy, but I felt like it was so...perfect. I was biased, obviously, because Ashkan was the one who made it, but... Still. I was sure he didn't mean for it to hold so much sentimental value. And really, why would it? It was just a bracelet he had to make for a css project. Yet I was already convinced it would become one of my favourite pieces of jewelry. And I wondered if he'd notice if I wore it every day.

  Is that creepy? Oh, god, maybe it's creepy... But Shaye does that all the time. And he shouldn't have given it to me if he didn't want me to wear it. Right? Right.

  A gloomy thought soon came to my mind. The silver gift on my right wrist cshed so perfectly, almost wickedly, with the onyx shackle on my left. They were from two entirely different sources. And maybe...they represented my own split existence, too. The thing that made me dangerous and untrustworthy. And the thing that kept me grounded with my friends and made me...myself. A duality, juxtaposition, dichotomy. A curse and a cure. A burden and a comfort. A punishment and a treasure. Though I knew it wasn't that bck and white. The truth lied somewhere within all the grey, as did I. I wasn't either one. I was both, in one being, and neither, all at once.

  I knew it was for my protection, but something about the way measures were forced upon me really didn't sit right. I had the urge to yank that dark shackle right off and be rid of it. To not feel so tethered, to not be such a...

  ...A...

  ...A what?

  A freak? A liability? A walking disaster waiting to happen? Damaged goods that the King is just waiting to watch snap?!

  I dug my nails into my palms. My own inner voices had a habit of taking me on the wildest journeys sometimes. But that one was particurly biting. If the situation had been about anyone else, I might've been able to write an essay about their pain, their struggles, their insecurities. But I just...couldn't see that in myself. Not clearly. All I saw was the same outcast from six months ago. I still didn't quite belong, just in a different way. Now, it was less to do with where I'd come from and more to do with what I'd become. Or what so many members of the court expected me to become.

  Which was strange, because all three of us were changing. All growing up, slowly but surely. Yet it seemed only I was being watched. And only I had to carry a reminder of my verdict on my wrist. King Typhis, Queen Vanche, Count Taviel, Duke Efren, all of them – they always had their eyes on me, one way or another. Watching for cracks in my armour, wondering if this or that might tip me over the edge. I hated the constant, paranoid feeling that they were whispering behind my back, wondering when I would become a problem. Or perhaps a monster.

  I wouldn't have felt any of this if people would've just trusted me to be good.

  After training that day, I stopped by The Roaring Witch to see how Elliott was coming along with repairing the mysterious amulet Lilwen had found st week. I'd been by a few times before to check in, but the trinket turned out to be a lot more complex and delicate than anyone had realized. So he was taking extra time with it to get everything in tip-top shape. He really was an absolute genius when it came to repairs and fixing broken things. It was his specialty. And this was certainly no ordinary pendant, so I trusted his judgment.

  The tavern was pretty empty in the early evening on a Tuesday. A few older men were gathered by the hearth, drinking and ughing quietly amongst themselves. In the back, three other groups chatted in low voices at tables. That was all. I made my two guards wait for me outside, and headed in.

  I spotted Elliott behind the bar, restocking some gsses and cleaning the counter with a cloth. I sidled up and sat on one of the stools. "Howdy, stranger."

  He looked up with a gap-toothed smile. "Hello, Brielle! Good to see you."

  "Same. How goes it? How's the project?" I nodded towards the stairs that led up to the building's personal quarters, where he'd been working on the amulet.

  "Actually, your timing couldn't be better. I think I've finally finished repairing it. Give me a minute to put these away."

  I watched as Elliott quickly and neatly stacked all the gssware into pce in the cupboard. Then he untied his apron from his waist and hung it up on a nearby hook on the wall before disappearing momentarily upstairs. He came back down with a small burp bag.

  "It's quite something," he said in a hushed tone as he leaned his elbows on the counter in front of me. "The stone is unlike anything I've ever seen. And it seems to hold some kind of energy within it, some kind of enchantment. I'm not quite sure what, but I have some theories."

  "An enchantment?" I blinked. "You're sure it's not just a regur neckce?"

  He nodded. "Positive. Also, it's very old, though it's still in decent condition. It must've been well cared for...at some point, anyway. If I were to guess, it's been around for about five or six hundred years."

  My eyebrows shot up. "How can you tell?"

  "Well, there's no way to date it, exactly. Not with any precise accuracy," he admitted. "That being said, I can tell by looking at the material, and how it's made. If it had been made in recent centuries, the style and patterns would've been more modern. The materials and techniques we have now are very different than, say, even one hundred years ago. It's quite delicate."

  "That's so...neat, in a weird way. I wonder who it belonged to..." I trailed off as I stared down at the pouch in his hands.

  "Yes, about that..." His face shifted into a more serious expression. "You said Lilwen found this in Lake Gaulheim, correct? In an underwater cavern?"

  "Yep," I confirmed.

  "Well... I did some research while I was working, and...I believe this is an ancient talisman created by Uneis."

  "The goddess of water? That Uneis?"

  Elliott gave another nod, and his lips pressed together. "I believe so, yes. In legends, at the beginning of time, she is said to have created a series of identical amulets which she gifted to those who worshipped her most. It was a mark of honour, of their closeness to her. It made them the guardians of her territory. Her ambassadors, you could say. Here, I've been reading about it on my breaks..." He turned around and plucked a tattered, red book from a shelf beneath the counter, then flipped through until he nded on a dog-eared page.

  The book looked old, just like the pendant, and there were water stains on the cover, as if someone had dropped it in a bath at some point. But the illustrations were still pretty discernible. He id it open in front of me and tapped on a faded illustration of a fancy pendant not unlike the one Lilwen had found. It was identical, in fact, if you ignored the damage and the discolouration.

  I looked at him in wonder. "You're kidding. How could it have survived this long? And...why was it at the bottom of a ke?"

  He shrugged, just as confused. "I'm not sure. It must be an extraordinary artifact. If there was writing along the cave walls, perhaps someone lived down there. One of Uneis' followers. She would've given them the power to live beneath water for extended periods of time... If I had to guess, something terrible happened, and it ended up being buried under that rubble for centuries, only to be uncovered again in our generation. Lake Gaulheim does extend partially into Opios, the water realm... So that strengthens the theory."

  I whistled and shook my head in amazement. "I'll have to let Lilwen know."

  "Indeed. Although, I think you should consider taking a look at it, first. I have a feeling it might help you on your quest," he said, opening the bag. "The book mentioned something about submerging it in water..."

  With careful fingers, he slid the amulet out of its holding pce. The silver glittered and reflected the light. It looked a lot better than when I'd first seen it, and he'd clearly worked hard on cleaning all the algae off, as well as repairing the crack in the casing and straightening the dents in the metal. There was no question that this piece of jewelry was centuries old. Now, it felt like a holy relic. Elliott and I peered at it together as he pced it on the bar counter.

  "Wouldn't you not want to dunk something with a bunch of mechanisms in water?" I questioned.

  "Logically, yes. But...magic can be strange," he reasoned. "There's probably a good reason why the enchantment can only be activated by submersion. Watch."

  Elliott slowly dipped the neckce into a gss of water he'd left sitting there. After a moment, a cloudy, blue light shone from within the stone, and it pulsed softly like a heartbeat. Some faint whirring and clicking noises followed. He pulled it back out of the gss and watched the amulet carefully as it continued to blink and glow. I stared at it too.

  "Now I have even more questions," I said.

  Elliott chuckled. "As do I. It shuts down again once the water drains out of it. It must need water to survive, so to speak."

  I gave the glowing object a wary look. "What made you think this would be helpful to me, exactly...?"

  "Look at the stone. The light isn't centered. It's sitting at the edge, isn't it?"

  "Uh..." I blinked and squinted, looking for what he saw. "Yeah."

  "Thus, if I hold it ft in my palm and orient myself differently..." He rotated his stance ninety degrees. "The light moves, like a compass needle, to a different position. See? That's what made me think this amulet is a device made for navigating. A way for Uneis' chosen ones to know which way was the way back home – in their case, her temple. Or so I specute."

  "No way! That's really cool..." I mused as I leaned forward to examine it closer. "So, you're saying it has some sort of magical wayfinding enchantment in it."

  "Indeed. I can only hypothesize it leads to a location of significance for Uneis. That, or a water source. That's just an educated guess." He gave a proud smile as he gently pced it back in its protective pouch and tied it off. Then he handed the bag over to me. "There you are. I know you aren't at liberty to divulge much of what your grand mission entails, but I also know it involves the gods somehow...and plenty of international travel. So I do hope that little bauble will serve you well. Especially if it'll help you get to where you need to go faster and safer. The enchantment seems stable. Which is quite miraculous, considering its age."

  I held it in my hands like a baby bird. "Thanks so much, Elliott. You're the best."

  He beamed at me and adjusted his spectacles. "Happy to help. Just don't drown, all right?"

  I ughed. "We'll do our best!"

  "And when you tell Lilwen you're borrowing it, do let her know that she likely won't be allowed to keep it. I'm sure the kingdom of Opios will want it returned. It's a part of their history," he added. "Oh! Also, tell her not to worry about compensation. It's a favour."

  "You're sure? Because I'm pretty sure she won't take no for an answer, so she'll just pay you anyway," I warned him.

  He gave a sage nod. "Yes, I'm sure. It was fun, and I learned a great deal. Just make sure it stays out of the wrong hands. There are some collectors out there who might have less…virtuous intentions for this type of item."

  I slipped it into my coat pocket. "Don't you worry. I'll take it straight to Kadia. Thank you!"

  "It's nothing. Happy adventuring! I'm rooting for you three." Elliott waved goodbye.

  I grinned as I turned and headed for the door. As soon as I stepped back outside into the chilly winter air, my two guards trailed behind me. I sighed in annoyance. They weren't so bad in most cases. And, yeah, I knew the King's orders were just to keep me safe. Just like the manacle on my wrist. But they made me feel like such a baby. And they weren't exactly quiet or inconspicuous, either. People stared every time. I could practically hear what they were thinking, what they were saying to one another.

  Unsurprisingly, Kadia was greatly interested in the amulet when I expined to her what Elliott had found. She immediately took it to her research room for study, notifying the other trainers in the process, promising to tell me what she'd found as soon as she was done. I bid her goodbye and returned to Earth for the rest of the day.

  Before that weekend came to a close, Kadia had a new pn for the next leg of our journey. We still didn't know where the amulet-compass was trying to lead us to. We had know way of finding that out without actually going to Opios – presumably – and following it. However, the prospects seemed promising. Tyrath's friend in Opios had recently responded to his letter and informed him about a hidden waterfall on an isnd off the coast. He'd figured that if there was something incredibly ancient and valuable to hide, there was a good chance it'd be somewhere in that area. The problem, as usual, was finding said object. But at least now we had a pusible location to check, as well as a new possible aid to find where Uneis had hidden her gemstone. So, we were scheduled to leave for Opios in five days. That gave everyone enough time to prepare.

  I'd just finished showering after an exhausting training session in the arena when there was a knock on the changing room door.

  I hastily wrapped a towel around myself before calling out, "Shaye? I thought you left already."

  "I did," I heard her say through the wood, "but something has...arisen. It's important. And a little strange."

  "What's up?" I unlocked the door.

  She entered and shut it behind her again. "Ashkan just stopped me in the hallway. He wants us to go to his house as soon as possible."

  I tilted my head to the side, my hair still dripping down my neck and onto the tiled floor. "Huh? Did he say why?"

  "No. He only said that it was important. Something about a strange occurrence, I think. It's difficult to get a good read on him," she replied, looking mildly uncomfortable. "I'm a bit worried. It isn't like him to ask for our company outside of our lessons."

  I frowned. "All right... Give me five minutes."

  She nodded and exited.

  I changed quickly, trying not to worry about it. Maybe something was wrong at his home. Maybe he was in trouble or needed some help. Knowing Ash, he would never have asked for help if it wasn't extremely dire. So this was either something funny, something really interesting, or something awful. My hands fumbled to buckle my belt as I wondered if he was hurt. I pulled on my leather trench coat and quickly braided my hair over my shoulder, then went to go find Shaye in the lobby.

  She was waiting there in a cloak and a dress, her usual elegant and feminine appearance. We shared a look of trepidation before she spoke to one of her guards to notify them we were heading out. Then the six of us – four guards and the two of us – stepped outside and began making our way towards the forest neighbourhood. I could practically feel Shaye's anxiety as we walked. It radiated off her like a furnace. The guards had formed a perimeter around us.

  "It's probably nothing," I offered. "Maybe he found something cool. Or got hurt doing something dumb, I dunno."

  Shaye kept staring straight ahead. "Maybe."

  My pulse spiked as I followed her up the familiar stone path to his house. A light drizzle began falling from the sky. Our guards stayed back and waited outside the entrance gate. Shaye gave the button on it a firm press. I tried to look at something – anything – besides her face, her posture, the way she was clutching her cloak around her like she was afraid someone might grab her from the shadows and pull her into the trees. She was worried about her best friend. And so was I.

  The door opened and we both jumped. Niista appeared.

  "Hello, girls!" she chirped. "Please, come inside, come inside, before it rains harder. I'm assuming you're here for Ashkan, right?"

  Shaye and I both gave her a nod, and we followed her through the gate and up to the front door. As soon as I was inside the house, my eyes darted around for some sign of him, but there was no indication that anything was wrong.

  Niista tucked a quill behind her ear. "Well, he should be...around somewhere. He was just here. Anyway, please excuse the mess. I'm working on a new recipe, but it's not going very well, as you can see..." She sighed as she gestured at the kitchen counter.

  There was a smattering of bowls and jars on the countertop, as well as a pot simmering on the stove, a bag of flour, some jams, a pitcher of milk... There were other things that were less recognizable. Some sort of dark liquid in a corked bottle, as well as several pouches of powder and leaves.

  Niista rubbed her forehead with one hand. "Ah... I'll figure it out–"

  "Where are my gsses…?"

  We turned at the sound of a new voice. Shaye stiffened, her posture growing ramrod straight. Lev emerged from his room in the back of the house and walked into the kitchen. He squinted at Shaye and I, as if we were intruders. Which...we kind of were. I waved sheepishly at him, and Shaye dipped into a small curtsy, like a proper dy would.

  He gnced at his daughter. "Niista. Did you move my spectacles again?"

  "Of course not, Father. Have you checked your bedside table?" She sounded bored, like this was a question she'd answered hundreds of times.

  "Yes." Lev gave us another look. "…Nevermind."

  He pivoted on his heel to exit the room but was halted in his tracks by Wendyll zooming around the corner. The young boy crashed into him with a solid thud and stumbled backward.

  Wendyll rubbed his nose, looking a bit disoriented. "Sorry, Father."

  "No running in the house. I've told you," Lev snapped.

  The boy shrunk back into himself a bit, but nodded, his shoulders sinking.

  His father turned back to Niista. "Clean up this mess before dinner."

  "Yes, Father." She looked like she was fighting back an eyeroll.

  "Did you call the courier for more ink?" Lev pressed her.

  "Yes. I did. Yesterday." Her tone was curt, but still polite. "Before I went to work. They're waiting on a shipment."

  He gave her a stern look. "What about my brown suit?"

  "Hanging up in the undry room."

  "And the mail?"

  "It's on your desk."

  "Did Ashkan ever patch that hole in the ceiling?"

  "Yes."

  "And I assume he fixed the fence in the garden?"

  "Yes."

  "Did I mention the loose floorboard in the hallway? It's causing the cabinet to wobble."

  "Yes. He said he can't fix it without removing the panels on the wall."

  "...Fine. And, I forgot, did you buy more eggs?"

  "Two cartons."

  "All right. Thank you." He paused. "Also, please bring up more firewood. I'll be in my study. I'm very busy working on a new blueprint, and I don't wish to be bothered."

  "Yes, Father." She sounded exasperated.

  The tension between them was obvious. And the longer it continued, the more Shaye seemed to sink in on herself and wilt away. Her discomfort was almost palpable. Wendyll watched his father retreat to his office before his attention nded on us. Then, a smile spread on his face.

  "Hello, Ashkan's friends," he greeted.

  "Hi, Wendyll," I replied with a little wave.

  He stood up straighter. "Do you want to see the bug I found today?"

  Niista immediately cut in, "No, Wendyll. They probably have something to discuss with your brother. Run along, now."

  His smile faded as he gnced down at his shoes. "Oh..."

  "Next time," Shaye interjected gently with a sympathetic smile. "We can look at bugs next time."

  He nodded and trudged out of the room, leaving just us three standing around.

  Niista gave a sigh. "I'm so sorry about all that. You two know how my father is..."

  "It's no bother," Shaye answered.

  "Anyway, Ashkan's probably upstairs. Let me know if you'd like anything." She nodded toward the stairs.

  We thanked her, then turned and walked towards the staircase.

  "Lev's such a pain," I mumbled, hoping my voice wouldn't carry down to where his study was. "I've met five-year-olds with more decency and compassion."

  "I agree," she whispered back. "But that is just who he is. We simply must accept that."

  We climbed the steps in silence and walked over to the room at the far end of the hall. The door to Ashkan's bedroom was open, which was weird. He always kept it closed if he was home.

  "Hello?" Shaye called out as we stepped inside.

  Ashkan wasn't in there. The room looked just how it always did. But there was no sign of him. Shaye seemed confused, too. We exchanged gnces and began checking the other rooms – not that there was much ground to cover. Just Niista's bedroom, Wendyll's bedroom, a bathroom, and a undry room. Still nothing. It was almost like he wasn't in the house at all.

  "Perhaps he left for an errand?" Shaye wondered aloud, her brow furrowed.

  "Why would he ask us to meet him here and then not show?" I replied with a shrug. "That doesn't seem–" I turned my head to the side and startled when I saw a form in the corner of my vision. "Ahh!"

  Shaye gasped as well and jumped back a little bit, whirling around.

  Ashkan was standing in the hallway a few feet from me. He seemed surprised to see us, and surprised by my reaction. He held his hands up to show us he was harmless.

  "Good god, Ash! You need to start wearing a bell or something, seriously!" I scolded, clutching my chest.

  "Oh, sorry... I didn't realize I was being that quiet," he apologized. "I didn't know you two were up here."

  Shaye took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment before straightening out the front of her dress. "My stars, do you know how difficult it is to find you in your own house?"

  He clearly wasn't in the mood for pyful banter. "...Sorry."

  "Why'd you ask us to come here?" I questioned, giving him a quizzical look.

  His expression darkened a bit, as if he suddenly remembered whatever he'd been doing. He sighed and beckoned for us to follow him into his room. Shaye and I gave each other a quick look before trailing after him. He closed the door behind us. Then, he reached under his bed and pulled out a bck bag. We watched him expectantly.

  "What is it?" I asked when he didn't volunteer the information himself.

  He set it on his desk, unbuckled the front fp, and opened the top to reveal its contents. Inside the bag was an assortment of knickknacks that all seemed to carry some sentimental or unique value; the kind of things people normally kept in boxes in a closet or drawer. Things that didn't make sense to put anywhere else. A pressed flower encased in resin. A carved wooden horse that was obviously well-loved. A baby bnket with embroidered initials. A bottle of ink that had long ago dried up. A cracked pair of goggles.

  I looked up at him. "What's all this?"

  "Memories," Ash said curtly, not looking at me. He sifted through the items for a moment, then retrieved a small envelope. He handed it to Shaye.

  She took it carefully and flipped it over. A gasp escaped her. "I forgot about this...!"

  I peered over her shoulder to read what was written on the outside:

  Ashkan Pheirozald, my dearest adventurer,

  Don't open this until you turn eighteen.

  "Your mother?" I guessed.

  Ash nodded bnkly.

  Shaye clutched the letter to her chest with a delicate grip. "I remember, now..."

  "She gave me this four years ago, about... Maybe a month or so before she left for the stars." He pushed his fingers through his hair. "I don't know what's in it. I haven't...had the courage to open it yet. But...after all that's happened recently, I...think I should."

  Her gaze softened. "You'll find no better time than the present."

  "Well..." He reached out and took the envelope from her.

  I added, "It can't hurt, can it?"

  He seemed hesitant for a second longer, staring down at his mother's handwriting, before he began to rip at the envelope's seam. We watched quietly as he pulled out three folded papers from within. His hands were trembling slightly. It was kind of a strange sight. He was usually so put-together, so calm and stoic. But now, he looked vulnerable and uncertain. Like he wasn't sure if he really wanted to do this. I couldn't bme him.

  "Let us know if you'd prefer some privacy," Shaye offered in a quiet tone. "We're more than happy to step out for a moment."

  Ashkan shook his head as he carefully unfolded the pages, holding them like they were as fragile as a butterfly's wing. "No, it's... Stay. ...Please."

  We didn't say anything else. We just hovered close by, trying to provide any source of comfort and support that we could. Shaye reached over and gave his shoulder a light, reassuring squeeze.

  After a breath, he began to read. "'To my eldest son... By the stars, I don't even know where to begin. How does one write a letter to their son on the topic of inevitable tragedy? Does it come across as a defeat? An admittance of weakness? Is there an apology I can give that will be enough? I cannot pretend that these are words I ever wanted to write to you. Perhaps'... 'Perhaps'..." He trailed off, seemingly unable to continue.

  My heart twisted in my chest. Reading the letter felt like I was viewing it through the eyes of a spectator invading a moment that was private, that didn't belong to me. "It's okay, you don't have to read it out loud. It's okay," I said.

  Ash shook his head and gave a clipped sniff. "Um, sorry. It's... Maybe that would be better."

  The three of us looked down at the pages that were held so reverently in his hands. The air itself seemed to still. Mrs. Wroet'by's handwriting was small and snted; almost cursive, but not quite. There was a certain untidiness to it that alluded to a sort of stream of consciousness. A smear of ink disrupted some of the words in a few pces. I read through it carefully in my head.

  Perhaps there is no easy way to say this, Ashkan, so I won't dance around the truth: If you are reading this, then that means I am gone, and that I felt gravely enough that my life was at risk to write you this letter. There is so much that I wanted to say, so much I wanted to do. But that was never to be, was it? The stars, it seems, had other pns for me. I can only hope that you've continued to be strong these past four years.

  I have left behind much for you, your father, and your siblings to handle on your own, and that pains me terribly. There will be much change in your life in the coming months and years, and there are so many things I wished I had more time to expin, things I prayed would not befall you so early. You may grow up far too quickly, my little adventurer. But please do not let these trials turn your heart hard. That is my greatest wish for you and your siblings: for you all to be able to experience a life as joyous as mine has been. And it will be a joyful one. I promise that.

  You are eighteen now. I can hardly believe it! What a fine man you must have grown up to be, just as I always imagined you would. You will have learned many things in my absence. I do not want this letter to feel as though I have given up – no, no. I hope that it will not bring you despair. In fact, now that you are grappling with all the responsibilities the gods have pced on your shoulders, and you are approaching adulthood, and the prophecy continues to push you towards your fate, I believe that it may be time for you to learn all the truths I've kept locked away for your own safety. But... First, I wish to reminisce... Perhaps for a final time.

  Ashkan wordlessly flipped to the second page.

  Do you remember when you were very little, I used to take you on long walks through the forest in the summer, and we would stop by that pond so you could feed the fish and look at the water blossoms? You used to love going there. I was always afraid that you would slip on the wet stones, so I would carry you on my back, and we'd count the flowers together. Sometimes, when you were a bit older, you would tell me you could see your future in the pond's reflection. I've often wondered if that was true... 'What do you see, mbkin?' I would ask. 'Nothing, Mama,' you would tell me with a pyful smile. But then you'd hold my hand and tell me all about your dreams... How you'd grow up to become a knight or a dancer or a builder or a chef, and you'd sail around the world on your very own boat and collect lots of 'things'. And remember how we'd stay for so long, and how you would ask me a hundred questions a minute? As curious as the day is long, my dear, but always polite and always so, so smart. I pray that hasn't changed.

  I can also remember, as if it was yesterday, how you'd occasionally steal the pruned flowers from the Onusch-Eires' gardens. Not the healthy ones, mind you. It was the dying ones, the wilted ones that'd been plucked away, the ones they were gathering to dispose of, that you'd snatch from their bins and bring home in your pockets after visiting Shaylie. I never understood why you refused to ask for some proper, healthy ones. You knew Shaylie's family had more flowers than anyone else in town. Maybe you wanted to prove that you didn't need to be given things. Maybe it was something you simply liked to do, some kind of odd little tradition, as a small act of rebellion. Either way, you used to fill a cup with water, plunk the limp flowers into it, then carry it to the kitchen table where we would eat dinner. You did that nearly every week, for several years. I think about this a lot – about why you would pick out those broken, dying, unsightly things, and how you'd try to salvage them, to give them life again, even when they were well past the point of no return. And continue to do so, despite it never working. I'm not eloquent enough to fully expin my thoughts on the matter, but I wonder, if I'd lived long enough for you to have ruminative conversations with me, would you have ever been willing to share the reasons for this ritual? What meaning would you have ascribed to it? Did you know then, at seven years old, how strong your instinctive compassion for living beings was? And does that feeling still linger even after I left? Or has the world now buried that softness somewhere beneath all its sharp edges? I would not fault you if it has.

  From the age of ten or eleven, you'd taken to climbing almost every avaible surface. You had such an impish spirit; always mischievous, always ughing, always running, always moving. I would often watch you through the windows as you explored the forest behind the house. You and Wendyll, and even Niista, on some of the nicer days. I always found it a bit funny, the way you would try your hardest to climb up trees to get the best fruit. Even when they were well out of reach, even when you nearly fell or had to call for Niista's help. It was the thrill that kept you going, wasn't it? It was that determination, that dogged resolve that kept you searching for ways to scale those trees until you eventually learned. There was nothing stopping you. And you always came back with scrapes and cuts, and you'd cry every time... But soon enough, you'd learned how to get the biggest, ripest fruits from those trees. I know I scolded you on many occasions about how unsafe that was. I was afraid you'd break a bone. But your father, as always, would just ugh it off. 'He's a Wroet'by,' he'd say, as if that expined everything. And in a way, he was right. It was a special brand of fearlessness that you were blessed with – or maybe it was cursed upon you, I'm not entirely sure – but that instinct would always serve you well in the years to come. And even now, as you face down the unknown, I hope that it's kept you going.

  As I write this, your early adolescent years have been filled with so many big, exciting, important changes. You're still as adventurous and quick-witted as ever. And as stubborn as you've ever been. And yet, you've matured so quickly, my dear, far quicker than most boys your age, it seems. You could be a rather serious child...and I suppose the stars have deemed you mature enough for all the things they want to thrust upon your shoulders. You're certainly stronger now; wiser, more clever and confident. It pains me to think that all of these new hardships have made you grow up before you had to. I do not doubt that you are prepared to handle whatever they are, but that does not stop me from worrying, or stop me from wishing I could do more to spare you the grief. Your training has been progressing wonderfully as well. I believe Brielle's sister is next in line to oversee that task in a few years? It's hard for me to keep up with these things. But you've certainly taken to it like a duck to water. It was an unusual thing for me to watch; how quickly you grasped the concept of fighting and war, when before you preferred the sciences, and dancing, and literature. I'm afraid it was your destiny all along, wasn't it? I'm certain your father is proud to see you taking on your role with such grace and poise. And so am I. More than I could ever, ever put into words.

  Ash flipped to the st page, which contained the most writing on both sides. He was still holding onto the stack with shaking hands.

  I know I am rambling and getting carried away, but I simply cannot help myself. I could write an entire book about my family and still have things to say. I apologize if this letter comes across as long and repetitive, and, dare I say, sentimental, but...this may very well be my st chance to tell you these things, to pass along any advice I have. It seems almost impossible for me to fully articute what I mean to say. So many times I find myself stopping to collect my thoughts, to choose my words with great care. And as I am sure you're well aware by now, I have always had a fondness for telling stories, and for metaphors and flowery prose and other such frivolous things. So... I am sorry if you feel like you're being lectured. You probably don't want to read an essay of all your mother's life lessons. I promise that isn't my intent, and I'll try my best to stay on topic.

  There was a jagged line beside a scribble, and then the handwriting picked back up again on a fresh line.

  I've no doubt that you have endless questions these days. There is a key enclosed with this letter – one that will open up a hidden panel behind my favourite painting in my study. Please do me a favour and go check it. There's a box there. And inside the box are answers to your questions, or as many as I could find. If you've received this letter, it means I'm unable to share them with you myself. Please keep everything that's inside that box private. Some of the contents may surprise you, and may hurt to read. But I have left it for you to help you on your path forward. Also (as much as it bothers me to say), I never told your father about the secret panel, or what's inside that box, and I'd guess he hasn't found it in four years, either, but please do not tell him anything of it. Certain...details may cause unnecessary discord and pain between you both, and I don't want to leave you with more problems than I already have. I hope this isn't too much to ask. I do trust him with many things, and he's a wonderful and intelligent man – I love him very much – but this is the one secret that must remain buried between you and I, my dear. You're certainly old enough by now to make your own choices about things like this. All I ask is that you try to understand, and do not judge me too harshly. There is so much you have yet to learn about the world, so many truths you haven't been made aware of, but I can only tell you what I know. It may be overwhelming. But it is better than not telling you anything at all. I'm certain Shaylie and Brielle will appreciate being made privy to my discoveries as well.

  The ink began to blot again and was smudged at the end of the line. She seemed to be losing focus or having trouble thinking clearly.

  I've been avoiding writing the conclusion to this letter for a few weeks now. I know what must be done. And it will be painful for you to read this, to know the fate I am resigning myself to. I just can't bear it... And yet I know I cannot drag it out any longer. So, Ashkan... Please listen to me very closely: This may be the st piece of advice I give you as your mother. Please be sure to take care of yourself and to be prudent. And do not ever lose the spark that's in you – the spark that made you smile after every scraped knee, the one that drove you to keep trying when things didn't go your way, the one that made you ugh so easily even through your tears. It's what helped me to love the world, too. Do not let this cruel pnet smother you. Hold onto it for dear life, as tightly as you can. And don't let those close to you forget their own light, either. Make sure Niista knows that it's all right to make mistakes. Remind Wendyll to slow down every once in a while, and to keep following his own heart. Tell Shaylie and Brielle that they're not alone in this, that you all will stand by one another's side through this terrible war and the darkest days. They will be important parts of your life in the coming years. They already are, even now. Also... Remind your father to make time to rest, and to spend more time with his children and to try not to get too caught up in the past. He has such a tendency to focus on what's been lost instead of what's still there. He tries to keep himself so busy that he doesn't have to feel anything at all. I can only hope you never pick up that habit yourself...

  My eldest son. From the moment you were born, from the moment I held you in my arms, before the prophecy was ever revealed, I knew you'd go on to do something incredible. Something important. Don't be discouraged by the prophecy; do not let it scare you or weigh you down. It is not what defines you. And it is not your burden to bear alone. So don't try to do this by yourself, all right? Promise me you'll have faith in those close to you. And remember to take a break when things are too overwhelming. Promise me you'll never be afraid to be yourself – to make friends, and ugh, and learn new things, and do whatever makes your heart soar. Oh...and promise me that you will eat three meals every day, and sleep well, and that you'll clean your boots and comb your hair every morning and brush your teeth before bed, and that you will continue your studies even in the midst of all of this chaos, even if it feels silly or frivolous... Because you know I always used to worry about that sort of thing. Promise me that you'll never lose hope for the future. That you will never become afraid to dream, to hope, to love... That you will not allow the darkness to take those things away from you. Because they are all so very precious, and you deserve them like trees deserve sunlight.

  Oh, blimey, I've been writing this for quite some time. My gods! It will be difficult to see you at dinner tonight and not mention it. ...My days are numbered, but I know I must go quietly, without a fuss, so you do not bme yourselves and get all sad and start arguing or thinking silly, regrettable things. And...I do not want you to grieve me when my time is up. It is hard for me to write about it; I cannot even bring myself to think of how it must make you feel to read such words...but it is simply how it must be. Although, as you're reading this, my physical presence is long gone, all you must do to remember me is look around. Pieces of me remain, still. Watch the birds flit by, and the stars twinkle above through the midnight clouds. That is where I will linger, always. Every time you climb a tree, or py my favourite song, or breathe in the freshly fallen rain, or look into a sun-kissed pond and see your own reflection, that will be us reuniting. Whether you realize it or not. I promise, I am there. So please do not miss me, mbkin. If you need me, you'll find me.

  There was more shakiness to the script, perhaps implying that she was crying. The penmanship was more disjointed and frail-looking on the st bit.

  I love you more than words could possibly express, Ashkan. 'I love you' never quite seemed to do justice to you or your siblings. Even the most skilled poet could not articute the sheer volume of the feelings in my heart. I would stay, if I could. Just a little longer. Just a few more days, a few more months, a few more years...! Oh, well. That is the way of the world, is it not? Time goes by too quickly. But no matter where my journey may take me next, or where I go...I will always love you with all of my heart. Please be brave. I'm incredibly proud of you. And I adore you dearly; I always have, and I always will.

  With endless love and hope and a million blessings for you all,

  – Your doting mother.

  P.S. I'm sure Niista has already read her letter by now. Do be gentle with her when you discuss this with her. I'm sure the memories will come flooding back. And when it's Wendyll's time to read his, I'd suggest that you be there with him when he does. He might have some questions that I didn't think to answer. Be supportive of each other, okay? ?

  ...

  Nobody moved for an eternity. I'd felt my eyes get watery as I read some parts, and the letter wasn't even for me. It felt like time had slowed to a halt. Like someone had thrown the whole pnet off its axis. The silence in the room was deafening. It took a few moments for me to collect myself enough to look over at Shaye. She looked shell-shocked. But I was sure it was nothing compared to how Ashkan was feeling.

  The two of us had read the pages over his shoulder, so we couldn't see his expression from here. He didn't speak, didn't turn, didn't even seem to breathe. He just held the letter in his hands and stared bnkly at nothing, like his entire world had shattered around him. I had no idea how he wasn't sobbing. He was probably in so much shock that he didn't even know how to respond, let alone cry. I wanted to wrap him in a big, comforting hug, but I also didn't want to encroach on his space. This wasn't exactly a casual moment. I stuffed my hands in my pockets to suppress the impulse.

  Finally, Shaye broke the silence, her voice so soft that it was barely audible. "Ashkan... Are you...? How are you feeling?"

  He didn't move or give any indication that he'd even heard her. She seemed to want to say something else, but then bit back on it and looked like she might start crying.

  "Ash," I said gently. I tried not to let my voice crack, even though it felt like someone had shoved a handful of needles down my throat. "We're here for you... Is there anything we can do to help right now?"

  It took a long moment for him to shake his head, very slowly. Shaye wrapped her arms around him tightly from the side. It was still another few seconds before he wrapped an arm around her in turn. It was a tiny movement; more reflexive than anything. Like his body had been programmed to do it.

  "...Thank you." Ashkan finally managed, his voice thin. His next words came out in a rush. "...I-I'm sorry, I don't mean to just... I... I need to process this right now..." His eyes were glossed over as if he wasn't entirely there, lost somewhere else in his mind.

  I nodded solemnly. "Do whatever you need to."

  Shaye and I stood there awkwardly, trying to find something to say, some way to lighten the mood, but it just felt...impossible. The room was filled with this heavy silence again. The weight of everything we'd read bore down on my shoulders. I felt so heavy, but Ashkan must have felt it a hundred times over. Shaye's expression was full of sorrow, too. The three of us just stayed there like that for a while, until Ashkan finally spoke.

  "I'm sorry," he repeated quietly, still sounding very far away. He drew in a sharp breath. "I should have opened this letter months ago. I never imagined...that it'd be this long, this detailed... Gods, I just..."

  "Hey. You wanted to be ready. Nothing wrong with that," I murmured, and reached out to put my hand on his shoulder.

  "...I just wish I could talk to her... Ask her things... Tell her..." His voice faltered a little. "I love her so much... She was the best mother I could've ever asked for, and now..."

  I didn't have anything to say that could make things better. I just kept my hand on his shoulder for a little bit before withdrawing it again, feeling useless. "Do you wanna...sit? We can be quiet. Or...if you need to talk, we'll listen. But don't push yourself if it's too much."

  Ash nodded silently and then moved to sit on his bed. Shaye and I followed suit. He put his head in his hands, covering his eyes and taking another deep breath. After a minute of sitting with him and feeling useless and awful, he finally lowered his hands to talk.

  "I can't believe she went to all this trouble... That couldn't have been easy to write with how unwell she was toward the end... It's just all so bittersweet, isn't it? I can't imagine how difficult it must've been...to write that..." His words were halting, like he was choosing them carefully, trying to hold himself together.

  "I don't know what to say..." I mumbled, at a loss for words.

  "I don't either..." Shaye added with a slight shake of her head.

  Nobody said anything else for a minute. We just sat there until I noticed Shaye reach out to wrap her arm around Ash. He leaned his head on top of her shoulder and closed his eyes, appearing to rex just the tiniest bit. She held him there in a one-armed hug while we all thought. The letter was still in his hands.

  "She truly was a very kind and patient person," Shaye remarked, her voice soft and careful.

  Ash nodded slightly against her shoulder.

  "I feel like I know her now," I said.

  He just kept nodding slowly. It took him a bit to find words again. "...Thank you for staying here with me..." He gnced between the two of us, then blinked, as though realizing something, and sat up straight again. "...Sorry I'm such a mess."

  I crossed my arms. "I know I speak for the both of us when I say that you shouldn't apologize."

  He let out a sigh. "Thank you... Again. For just being here... I... I really don't know what I'm doing. I should be used to this by now."

  I reached out to give his hand a comforting pat. "I can't imagine this is an easy situation to adjust to... She was your mom."

  He gnced over at the framed photograph on his shelf. Mrs. Wroet'by's smile was wide and bright and joyful. It was such a contrast to how Ash looked at that moment. His gaze lingered there for a while.

  "She was almost…impossibly kind," he said suddenly. "She would settle for nothing but the best for her children. She always kept me safe from everything... I grew up without knowing what true pain felt like... It was such an unwavering shield. When she passed, I think that was the first time I was truly, deeply hurt. I didn't know what to do. I didn't know how to process it. So I shut down, because the only way I could figure out how to make the pain stop was to stop feeling entirely. I didn't know I'd be stuck there for the next four years. I thought I'd move on..." The words tumbled from his lips, like he'd been trying to hold it all in for ages and was finally allowing it out.

  "I think..." Shaye replied hesitantly, "that's natural when you lose a parent. ...Though, I also think you've progressed more than you're giving yourself credit for."

  I nodded. "You've clearly been working on processing the past a lot tely, even though it's hard. That's more than plenty of people can say."

  "...Thanks." He sounded more tired than anything. He stared down at the letter again for another few seconds, then folded it and set it carefully aside. "I think...I should go find that hidden panel."

  "Right now?" Shaye blinked.

  He stood up abruptly. "Right now."

  Shaye and I exchanged a gnce and followed suit, following Ashkan as he left the bedroom. He seemed to be walking in a bit of a haze. Like he was just letting his feet guide him.

  Niista was prepping dinner when we walked into the kitchen, and she gnced over. "Hello. How are things?" she asked Ashkan, seeming to be able to read the atmosphere in the room.

  "I read my letter." His tone was ft.

  She halted what she was doing. "Oh... I thought you'd opened it already." She paused for a few seconds, as though debating whether or not to press further. "...Are you all right?"

  He just gave her a firm nod and looked at her intently. "She described a secret panel in her study? Behind the painting. We're going to try to open it. There's something behind it that she wanted me to find, apparently..."

  "What? I've never heard any such thing." Niista looked a bit taken aback, and also concerned.

  Ashkan shrugged a bit helplessly. "Me neither. It sounded like Father didn't know about it, either. So, could you do me a favour and keep him away from her office? Wendyll, too. I think Mum wanted to keep it secret... It'd probably be best..." He sounded lost.

  "...Of course, Ashkan," she replied solemnly. "Be out before dinner, okay? And try to leave everything the way you found it. Let me know if you'd like to talk ter."

  He nodded absently and then continued towards the back of the house, as though on a mission. He was completely silent until we finally made it to the study. It was located almost as far as possible from Lev's office. Ashkan id a hand on the doorknob and froze. It seemed like he had a moment of doubt about whether this was really something he should be doing, and if it'd be too difficult to go through with, but then he shook himself out of it and turned the knob.

  "I haven't been in here for a year or so," he commented as we filed in behind him. "None of us really ever go in..."

  Shaye shut the door behind us and cast a quick silencing charm over the space. "No matter what we find, I hope this isn't going to be too overwhelming for you."

  Ash shook his head, though it was impossible to tell how he truly felt about any of this. He had that same thousand-yard stare. "It's time," he murmured. "It's past time."

  I slowly scanned the room. There were many paintings hanging from the walls, shelves of books, and a grand desk situated near the middle of the room, which was covered with neatly organized papers, ink pots, and quills. Like an eternal moment suspended in time. Nothing seemed out of pce. There was nothing that made me think something was hidden here. A yer of dust covered most objects; it must've been a while since anyone had cleaned. Carefully, Ashkan pulled open the wine-coloured curtains in front of the window. The evening sun streamed through it, bathing the room in warm light and catching the specks of dust floating in the air. It gave the study a somewhat dreamy appearance. Although retively simple, there was a lot to look at: various trinkets, family photographs, books and papers, a globe... The walls were all painted cream, and the desk and bookshelves were a dark, deep oak. A well-loved armchair with an emerald throw bnket was settled behind the desk.

  "There it is," Ashkan spoke up. His gaze had locked on a rge painting on the far wall – one of a forest.

  The trees were just beginning to turn in the image, with fiery autumn reds, golds, and oranges on the edges of their leaves. A narrow stream could be seen meandering through the foliage in the distance. Ash approached the painting and peered at it closely. The details were painted with care. I wasn't much of an artist, but even I could appreciate the way the colours had been mixed. He stood there, frozen, for a long time. It felt like I wasn't supposed to talk. Like he was in another world and any intrusion would be rude. So I stood there and waited, not really sure what else to do.

  He reached up, but didn't touch the canvas, just traced his fingers in the air over the surface. The frame lifted off of the wall like it weighed nothing. Ashkan let it hover to the side, then gingerly set it down on the ground. Behind it was a wooden panel, with a small keyhole.

  "I almost can't believe it's actually here," Shaye commented.

  "...Neither can I," Ash murmured.

  I shifted from one foot to the other. "Nobody's ever found it before?"

  He shook his head. "Father seldom comes in here. And he hates when anyone else comes in, too, so... I don't know. It always felt kind of...forbidden."

  I gave a thoughtful nod.

  Ashkan dug around in his pocket and fished out the key that'd been in the envelope. The key itself looked rather simple, but the teeth were all twisted up in some strange shape I'd never seen before. He inserted it into the keyhole and took a deep breath, hesitating for a second before turning the lock. There was a soft click. Then a louder click, and the panel popped out just enough for Ashkan to grip the edge. He pulled gently. It swung open with a creak.

  A tiny, wooden compartment was revealed. In the centre sat a fairly rge, paperboard box with a lid. It vaguely resembled a filing box, like the kind that my mom kept at home in our attic. Ashkan lifted it out carefully. It seemed to have some heft to it. Then, he turned back to us and moved to the desk, setting the box down on its surface. It looked pretty unremarkable. It was made out of pin brown paperboard. A few light watermarks covered its surface, but there wasn't anything to indicate something exciting was inside. There wasn't anything written on the top, or any bel to give us any idea what this was all about. I found myself holding my breath as Ashkan finally opened it.

  Inside, there were three leather-bound journals, identical and lined up next to each other. He pulled them out one at a time and id them on the desk. The covers were all bare, save for a metal csp that held each one shut, and a ripped piece of parchment glued to the front that numbered them from one to three. They weren't anything fancy. Ashkan hesitated, then opened the first one, carefully unfastening the csp. The spine was stiff from not having been opened in a while. The inside pages were bnk. We all stared in confusion. Ash flipped through it. It had nothing but empty pages, all the way until the end.

  "Um, maybe they're new?" I suggested with a shrug.

  "They've obviously been handled, though..." Shaye pointed out. She stepped forward and examined it with a curious expression.

  Ashkan's brows furrowed, then shot up. "...Oh. I know." He fttened his palm against the centre of the journal, right in the middle of the pages, and held it there for a few seconds while casting some sort of spell.

  When he withdrew his hand, writing began appearing. The words formed themselves onto the page like it was an invisible quill, scribbling out the lines. The writing was in neat, snted cursive, and it was small, but legible. It was his mother's penmanship, no doubt. He quickly thumbed through the journal. Every page was completely full from front to back. It looked like an entire manuscript.

  "A...diary?" Shaye tilted her head and blinked, perplexed. "Three of them?"

  Ashkan looked shocked. His lips parted a bit, then closed again. "About what...?"

  "Why don't you read them?" I said. "It seems like it'll answer some questions."

  He gnced down at the journal in his hand, like he didn't really believe this was happening, then flipped to the first page. 'Property of Harwynis Wroet'by' was written at the top. It was dated '31/08/C6/Y20' – the numbers indicating the day, month, century, and year in this calendar system – which meant this entry was written over fifteen years ago. The three of us would've been only two years old at that time. Ashkan cleared his throat, and then began to read quietly:

  "...'Today, I received the most terrible, horrible, awful, shocking news I have ever received in my life. I am at a loss for words. I have not felt such rage and anguish for many years. It feels as though I am trapped in a nightmare. The King summoned Lev and I to his pace, along with the Onusch-Eires and the De Mavsets. The purpose of this meeting was to inform us all of a new augury he'd received from the Elders. The Tremaium prophecy. Ashkan's appearance fits one of the descriptions perfectly. Apparently, our travelling neckces are not simply links that connect us as friends... That unite us as unique descendants of brilliant minds who forged pathways between two universes. Coincidence or not, they are a sign that our children will one day save this world... My heart has stopped beating... I am not quite sure how to comprehend this information. My thoughts are too incoherent for me to properly put down here. I will write more another time.'"

  There was a pause. Ashkan turned to the next entry. It was dated about a week ter.

  "...'It has been a difficult time adjusting to the new reality we are faced with. I have hardly been able to think straight. I have had the strangest urge to ugh, or to scream... To destroy the very neckce that sits on my chest. But would that solve anything? Would Ashkan be any better off? Perhaps the gods were insistent on dealing him this hand. This terrible hand. This mandatory life path that will force him to fight for the very future of this pnet, when he is of some undefined age. He has yet to even learn to properly use a spoon, let alone fight a war with only the help of Shaylie and Brielle. I feel'... ...'I feel as though I have failed him already'..." Ashkan's voice faltered.

  "Oh..." Shaye reached out to put a hand on his arm.

  His jaw tensed, and he tore his eyes away from the journal. "I-I don't... I don't know if I can... Would you mind?"

  "I don't mind at all," she assured, "as long as you're comfortable with it."

  He just gave a small nod. "I'd like to hear..."

  "Okay. I'll keep going." She reached over to gently take the diary from his hands and continued: "...'I feel as though I have failed him already. My darling baby boy... The boy who should have no worry other than which toys he will py with. Which friends he will grow with. What kind of career he will pursue. I want him to live a long, happy life... To choose whatever he desires... Not to be forced into anything. To be the hero. But Lev and the other fathers say that there is nothing we can do, other than prepare ourselves... And prepare them, most importantly. We are to ensure they are all trained. His Majesty's best trainers have been appointed, and will begin lessons once the children are fourteen. They've even received blessings from Gavphine's Elder, through the goddess' decree, in the form of adorable, star-shaped birthmarks behind their right ears. They're supposed to protect them from being corrupted by darkness... I hope that will work. Brielle's mother has been insistent on keeping her on Earth for as long as possible. I know that is likely the best possible decision to make, but it still feels'..." Shaye hesitated, as though it pained her to say it, "'wrong. To do nothing about it. We can do nothing but wait for them to grow up, to see what the gods will do. If I could save Ashkan from this path, I would, no matter the cost... It feels as though I am fated to be the worst possible mother.'"

  Another pause. Ashkan drew in a breath and released it slowly. He leaned back against the desk. The words seemed to weigh heavily on his mind, but he gestured for her to continue. Shaye skimmed the pages until she came to an entry that was several months ter. This time, she read with slightly more confidence in her voice:

  "'I've decided to begin recording any helpful information that could prove useful in the future, concerning the prophecy, and also my feelings... Perhaps this will help them to prepare for the inevitable. I know I will be there every step of the way, but writing all my findings down will be important... To not forget anything. I've already started on some notes. I don't want my son to feel alone or burdened. I am aware this is what the gods want him to do. I will support him to the fullest. I must. It will not be an easy road. I will do anything in my power to protect him and make sure he is ready to fulfil his duty, while making sure he knows that this was not the future I envisioned for him.'"

  "Wow..." I said softly.

  Shaye skipped through a couple of pages. "It seems she wrote a lot of entries like that. 'I will protect you.' 'You deserve to live your own life.' 'This wasn't supposed to be your burden.' Sentiments like that..." She turned a few more pages, until a longer entry caught her eye. "...Ah. This seems different. 'Balgaur has been most helpful in offering to assist me in any way. As a page, he's our main line of communication with the royal court, so I appreciate him greatly. Lev thinks he's been too helpful tely... That he's gotten too involved. But he's our friend, how could he not? I've known him for years. Lev says that he's being nosy, and that it's none of Balgaur's business how we prepare for this. But I know he means no harm. He has even offered to train the trio, if the King allows it. Perhaps I will take him up on his offer, but we'll have to see.'"

  "That is insane to hear..." Ashkan muttered.

  Shaye continued, "'Although Balgaur's upbringing was far different than any of ours, I believe that's why the King finds his services so valuable. He understands all the subtle, complex mechanisms of crime. Of thieving and murder... Of bck magic and espionage... I suppose I can't bme Lev for being suspicious of him. He does not have a great reputation among the rest of the world... And he can be a bit...arrogant. But I trust him. I know him, and I know what's in his heart. He is a friend. That's all there is to it.'"

  There was a moment of silence after that. We all seemed to be mulling this over. I couldn't fathom how Ashkan was feeling, hearing his te mother's cordial thoughts about a man who ended up torturing her son in an underground cell... But there was more. There were three of these diaries. Maybe there would be some kind of expnation, or at least a shift in tone, in the ter journals.

  Advancing through the years, Shaye kept reading: "'Balgaur told me about a strange rumour today. Some Inkbloods in the region were discussing working for a man up in Adares... Of course, he didn't have many details (no name yet), but it has given me a lot to think about. What kind of dimwit would hire a group of Inkbloods to work out of that desote country? It's an abandoned wastend, practically. And they said this man had already been recruiting some others. It could just be nonsense...but Balgaur said he's been hearing this rumour a lot recently.'"

  The entries started skipping by many months at a time.

  "'I'm beginning to worry about Balgaur. I'm sure the stress can't be good for my pregnancy... But we've all noticed a change in his behaviour. Is his violent childhood finally catching up to him...? It's so strange. His anger comes out of nowhere. He's been snappy and quick to argue tely... It all started after he decided to pursue the rumour about this mysterious person in Adares who's been hiring Inkbloods for an unknown reason – the same rumour he's been hiding from the King. He knew investigating it wouldn't be a good look in the eyes of the w. And I'm sure His Majesty wouldn't want to be responsible for sending his trusted page to his foreseeable death. Assuming this man is actually powerful, of course. What was the bloke's name...? Vin... Something.'" Shaye furrowed her brows, and then her eyes went wide. She turned to me in a rush of urgency and cried out, "Vin... Vhinrud!"

  I gave a stunned blink. "Must be... I mean, that's definitely possible, right? So he did know her..."

  Ashkan stared down at the diary with a troubled expression.

  She resumed reading, "'I've been told the fool cims himself to be a deity of some sort. What a pathetic joke! I feel sorry for him. His followers are probably just people who need money and don't know any better... Anyway, I tried to ask Bal about this new attitude he's been having. To offer help with his stress. I'm his friend, after all, and I know it isn't like him... He's a sweetheart, not some foul, vindictive bastard. He says everything is fine, and I should just let him handle his affairs. What am I to say...? I suppose I should just let him be, and not worry... Maybe the rumours will lead him to nothing, and this will all blow over. I will be there for him if he ever needs me.'"

  Shaye flipped a few pages. The atmosphere in the room was growing tenser by the minute.

  "'I've made up my mind. After I give birth to my (third and st!) baby, I'm going to visit this cult in Adares. I want to see how it is, for myself. It makes no sense, I know... It has nothing to do with the prophecy. I'm sure nobody will approve... But I can't ignore this. It's strange, and my gut says that something isn't right. Who else would be responsible for threatening the safety of the pnet, if not a madman at the helm of a growing collection of Inkbloods? He must be trying to usurp the leader's throne...'"

  I sucked in a sharp breath through my teeth. "Oh, my god..."

  "No. That's not true," Ashkan said in disbelief.

  Shaye hurried a few pages forward. "...'Wendyll has arrived, safe and healthy. And loud! But a very bright baby boy... A lot of work! I can already see his horn stubs; they'll probably start growing any day now. I'll have to teach him all my tricks to wrap and polish them. Ashkan is very happy to be a big brother. He has taken well to the little tot; he keeps calling him 'Wenny'. How cute! And Niista, bless her, is being as helpful as she can for a seven-year-old. I'm not sure how she felt about having another brother... I guess time will tell.'"

  I gnced over at Ash. He stared down at his feet, his eyes unfocused and gzed. Shaye skipped over a few entries, skimming until she nded on the next significant one:

  "'Unsurprisingly, Balgaur tried forbidding me from travelling to Adares. I'd be putting myself in too much danger, he cims... And it isn't as though I don't understand. If this mystery man is as crazy as we all suspect, I'll have a very easy target on my back. And I must keep my family at the forefront of my mind at all times... I can't endanger them by putting myself in harm's way. I need to think rationally about this... But the idea that someone is out there, growing an army of Inkbloods to work towards something sinister, it eats at my thoughts day and night. I asked Balgaur to compromise and let me join him next time he goes. He refused. He doesn't seem to be in the most cooperative mood, tely... Therefore, it seems I must ask him to report back to me if he hears anything that could be reted to the prophecy. It will have to suffice.'"

  That was the end of the first journal. Shaye looked at us with an uneasy frown, and then opened the next one, which was dated several years ter.

  "'Balgaur only visited Vhinrud's hideout once in a while...'" She gasped, and then continued with an incredulous expression. "'Apparently, he has taken up residence in some strange cave system, of all pces. As to how the bzes a cave is in Adares... I have no clue. Regardless, Balgaur is spending much more time over there nowadays. I'm a little frightened, to be honest. He always assures me that I'm being paranoid. That Vhinrud is just a simple-minded fool... Who will eventually be dealt with by the authorities. Once he gathers enough evidence, and can get away safely without endangering himself, he'll tell the King about it all. But it is troubling. With every report he gives me, I feel even more uneasy. What started as a silly rumour and random hunch seems to have developed into something far more ominous. Something far more sinister than I could have anticipated. The kinds of chaos that he speaks of'..."

  A wave of nausea passed over me. Ashkan just stood there in silence, looking down at the ground. I was sure his thoughts were spinning a thousand miles per minute.

  "'The kinds of chaos he speaks of,'" Shaye repeated, "'it would not be out of line to say that my worst nightmares have come true. He has a small army at this point, with hundreds of members... Vhinrud must be the raven-haired man the prophecy references. There can be no other expnation. And the fact that he's in Adares... There must be a reason. There has to be some purpose behind this. Something about the location, the resources, or something. I'm sure the King has noticed Balgaur's strange behaviour, by now. His frequent trips to Adares. How he has become obsessed with this. But why is he so fixated...? It makes me worried... About him, and for all the rest of the world. It cannot be anything good.'"

  Shaye skipped forward through a few pages.

  "...'This Vhinrud is dangerous. His followers are brainwashed. He is maniputive, and power-hungry. Balgaur told me about how he pns on conquering all of Emiarhia, and stealing the three travelling neckces. That revetion sparked a fire within my skull. There is no doubt now: Vhinrud is the evil in this prophecy. At the very least, he is a threat... Over the years, I've heard stories of how he uses dark magic to draw strength from others to reinforce himself, and that his followers will die for him, even in the most pointless of fights... How he preys on people who have experienced great loss in their lives. How he gives them these ugly tattoos. I still can't believe Balgaur is so dedicated to his masquerade that he actually got one... Maybe they forced it upon him. But, what is he trying to prove anymore...?'"

  On the page, in the right margin, a drawing was scrawled. The Inkblood mark. There was no mistaking it. I stared at it, trying to piece it all together. This was too much all at once. I gnced at Ashkan. His hands were clenched at his sides, and he had gone slightly pale. I wondered to myself – if he was closer, would I try to reach out for him? Wrap my arms around him in support? It seemed like the right thing to do, but I was hesitant to touch him at all, given everything. I settled on staring, which did little to convey my feelings.

  "'Vhinrud must be stopped, no matter the cost... Even if he isn't the actual man from the prophecy, it can't hurt to cut this weed now before it blooms into a monstrous, sprawling beast that could endanger us all. And Balgaur has been falling further and further into this trap... But he just keeps assuring me that everything will be okay. After getting the tattoo, the King liberated him of his role as his personal page. He was on thin ice for a while, though. This has left Balgaur even angrier than before. And I'm worried he may have taken that as a sort of rejection. Now that he no longer works with the royal family, he sees them as untrustworthy... As people he wants to bring down... The people he was sworn to protect.'"

  Shaye turned a dozen more pages.

  "...'Everyone in the group has cut contact with Balgaur. I think I knew, deep down, that things were headed in that direction for years now. Still, it didn't make the decision any easier for me. I think Lev is rather relieved to not have him in our lives anymore, after all he's gotten himself into. He's been incarcerated twice since the beginning of his investigation. Both times, he escaped sooner or ter. I wouldn't be surprised if he's Vhinrud's right-hand man by now. It just breaks my heart. He has turned his life into such a mess... Yet I can't help questioning if it was my fault... Maybe I shouldn't have been so curious about that rumour. Maybe I shouldn't have encouraged Balgaur to keep stalking Vhinrud. If I had just stayed in my own ne and not given into my paranoid curiosities, this might all have been different... But now we're all paying the price...'"

  Her words seemed to hit Ashkan in the stomach. He dropped his face in his hands, rubbing his fingers into his eye sockets with a frustrated sigh. I had nothing to say. My heart ached. It all made perfect sense... Balgaur was never an angel, but it didn't sound like he had been a complete devil, either. He just...got tangled up with a very dangerous man. All because he was trying to help Harwynis protect Ashkan by attempting to make the prophecy a bit clearer. And Balgaur was her friend... That alone was difficult to understand. They seemed like such por opposites.

  The rest of the second journal was filled with simir entries: Harwynis talking about her fears, her paranoia about Balgaur's safety, and her deep feelings of regret and sorrow. There were also plenty of anecdotes about her family and daily life. As the years went by, her children were growing older, and mentions of Balgaur became fewer and farther between. By the final entries, it sounded as though they had stopped seeing each other entirely. He was far too absorbed with Vhinrud, and her own life had grown busier and busier. I wasn't sure if she still communicated with him or not – if he knew how much he meant to her.

  The third journal was the final one in the box, and the dates began to advance by much longer periods than they had in the first two. It wasn't a full logbook – there were only ten entries. And it didn't take us very long to read them all. It started almost a year before Harwynis' death.

  Shaye's voice was slow and quiet as she spoke, "...'I've been seeing Balgaur more, tely. Not intentionally. He has just been wandering the area, whenever guards aren't around. He looks different. His face is scarred, and his expression is sullen and dark. I'm so scared to confront him... To ask him how he is. What has become of his life...?'" She flipped to the next entry. "'Balgaur confronted me today, when I was out by the river. It was strange to see him after so much time... To be in his company again. It brought back memories. He is not the same man he once was. He has changed so much. I could sense his anger towards me, towards us all, for excluding him from the group all those years ago. The guilt that I feel will never go away. But the man is still my friend, and I do not know what I could have done to prevent all this.'"

  Ashkan stared off into the distance. He was hearing the words, but they clearly weren't sinking in yet.

  Shaye went on, "The next one is dated two days ter, surprisingly. And it sounds like she was in a panic..." She paused to read a couple lines, then said, "'Someone saw. One of them saw. An Inkblood saw Balgaur talking to me... It must've been seen as a betrayal. Since he was speaking so freely to me about what's been going on in their camp, in Adares. They'..." Her voice trailed off for a moment, and she whispered under her breath, "…What?!"

  Ashkan gnced over at her and asked, "What's it say?"

  She was quiet for a second, staring down at the pages, before answering. "They...abducted her."

  His face drained of blood, and I could tell he was struggling to maintain a stoic expression. "Keep...reading."

  "'They took me from my home st night and brought me to Adares, where I was questioned for many hours... Vhinrud was outraged. I'm sure he wanted to murder me, and Balgaur as well. He was too valuable to him. I was a threat to the secrecy of his operation... A loose end that had the potential to reveal all to the public. I was blindfolded; I can't say where in the realm they brought me. But I am home now. Lev has been very stressed about it all. Niista and Wendyll were quite worried. And I think Ashkan might know what has happened to me. The Inkbloods could have killed me... It would not be difficult for them to do. But I was spared... Balgaur asked Vhinrud not to. I was shocked. 'She has children,' he'd pleaded. And I am certain that, though his anger and hate was intense, the leader still has some shred of compassion. For he did let me live... It is a miracle. The man mentioned something in passing about despising his own father. Perhaps it was an emotional reason why he showed mercy.'"

  I shifted to look at Ash. His hands were shaking, and his breathing was uneven. I thought about taking a step forward and touching his arm, but I decided against it. I had the feeling that he might not be able to handle the touch of anyone. Not in the moment.

  Shaye took a few seconds to collect herself. Her eyes had begun watering. "...My gods... 'I was not free to leave unharmed, however. Vhinrud seemed dissatisfied with simply releasing me back to my life. Balgaur suggested he take every memory of their location, of anything incriminating, from my mind. This...terrified me. I'm still not sure how it all happened... All I know is that he didn't do a very complete job. There are so many holes. There are memories; there are bits and pieces that don't fit together... But I cannot put my finger on any specific thing that I should remember, or shouldn't... I'm just incredibly grateful I have these journals. These records. To remind me of who I was. Of all that happened... And I'm grateful nobody knows about them. They're mine and mine alone. My only sanctuary.'"

  She turned the page.

  "'There is one thing I don't believe any amnesia hex could remove, though. Not truly. After Balgaur suggested Vhinrud erase my memories rather than murder me, his counteroffer was this: that he would drain the lifeforce from both of us, and that Balgaur must sign a blood contract stating he wouldn't ever contact me again, and would pledge his entire being to serving Vhinrud. And if he were to betray him again, we would both die. He agreed to these terms... The lunatic actually agreed. I suppose it was his way of protecting me, even after all these years... Although being sapped of my vitality was extremely frightening and unsettling, and I still feel dizzy, I know it was worth it. I was able to return to my family in one piece. I'll recover soon. My children are taking care of me. My sweet little angels, the lights of my life. I cannot thank the gods enough that I didn't end up as one of his victims. ...I hope, one day, these journals will be as insightful to Ashkan as they are to me right now. I wouldn't have been able to jog my memory at all, if not for them. Unfortunately, there are many things I don't remember... Many details I don't know about. The only reason I'm still familiar with Vhinrud's name is because I've written it so many times before. I wish I could recall what he looked like. What he sounded like. Where he was located, specifically. As the hours pass by, I can feel the amnesia reted to this whole situation getting stronger, like I'm sinking in a vat of quicksand. So I'm writing quite rapidly, before it can completely fade. I've seen him. I've seen his face, his camp... But it's like it's been hidden by a curtain, a shroud... A darkness I can't make sense of. I can barely recall anything of what Balgaur has revealed to me throughout his investigation. Maybe it was all for nothing... In the end, nothing can be done. Maybe it's best to simply let sleeping dogs lie...'"

  "It wasn't for nothing..." I muttered.

  Shaye wiped her eyes, then turned to the next entry, dated a few weeks after the st one. She blinked back tears and kept going. "'An awful thought occurred to me while I was lying awake st night: If Balgaur did not have his memories wiped like I did, what sorts of sensitive information has he been supplying Vhinrud over the years? He once worked directly under the King, after all. He was privy to all kinds of documents about the trio's neckces, their medical history, aptitudes, personal matters... Does Vhinrud know each of their blood magic types? Does he know about their birthmarks? My stomach is twisting up just thinking about it. If this man is indeed the evil spoken about in the Tremaium prophecy, then the information Balgaur has shared could spell disaster. Vhinrud and his Inkbloods must stay as oblivious as possible about Ashkan, Shaylie, and Brielle. The gods only know what would happen if Vhinrud got his hands on the neckces. The holy runes they possess would no doubt be extremely potent to him, with the sort of power he must have.'" She stopped to stare at the next page, but her gaze seemed distant and unfocused. She looked sick to her stomach.

  "...What is it?" Ashkan asked.

  Her voice cracked as she replied, "There's a big jump in time... Almost four months ter. You can see the calligraphy becoming..."

  I fidgeted with my hands, watching Shaye with an intense gaze. "Just tell us. Whatever it says."

  "I know it's important that we know what happened, but...this is a lot," she said quietly. Her eyes were red and full of sorrow. "I'm not sure I can stomach... It's... I knew her..." She cut herself off with a little coughing sob, and buried her face in her hand.

  "Do you want me to continue?" I offered, feeling my own heartache rising. "Or we can take a break."

  Ashkan cut in, "No. Please, let's just...finish. I have to know... I have to know what happened to her. I need to hear all of this."

  Shaye sniffled and handed me the diary. Her voice was hoarse as she said, "I can't..."

  "It's okay." I patted her on the shoulder and took the journal from her. She sat down on the edge of the desk and took some slow, deep breaths to compose herself. "...All right..." I cleared my throat. "Four months ter. 'Through action, one becomes a warrior. Through death, a warrior becomes a legend. Through time, a legend becomes a tale. And by learning from the tale, another takes action. Perhaps that is what I'm doing here. Recording everything for a future warrior – my own eldest son. Balgaur was contaminated before he got around to telling His Majesty about his discoveries regarding Vhinrud. And there are too many gaps in my memory for him to believe anything I say. He knows how close Balgaur and I once were, and the King doesn't exactly have the best opinion of him now... I haven't seen him, his master, or any Inkblood since I was taken to their hideout. But the nightmares haunting my nights are worse than ever.'"

  I paused before flipping to the next page. Harwynis' writing was slowly becoming sloppier and messier.

  "...Two months ter. 'I had to abandon my career today... The lifeforce siphoning Vhinrud used... Was there some sort of poison in that ritual? I am struggling to find the strength to carry on, some days. I've been going to bed at sundown, only to be up until dawn. The little things have been taking so much more effort than they used to. My hand feels heavy. My mind feels foggy. I can't stand not being able to chase my children around and py with them as much as I want. And my darling Lev... He is so worried, he hardly ever leaves my side anymore. It is all so terribly frightening... The effects have been so subtle that I didn't think anything was wrong. The physicians don't know what is ailing me. Lev thinks I must have caught some sort of strange illness that nobody's heard of before.'" I flipped again. "One month ter. 'I can finally put a name to the poison in my veins. The doctor diagnosed me today. He told me my lungs are failing... I must've caught some sort of respiratory infection recently. He's given me a treatment pn. It is treatable. I won't let it win... I won't. Not when there's so many people relying on me...'" I looked up.

  Shaye and Ashkan's eyes were both brimming with tears. The mood felt utterly suffocating.

  I read on. "Two weeks ter. 'The children and I spent all day in the garden. It was one of my better days. We ughed and pyed games, and my dear Wendyll made me flower crowns. I will never forget that afternoon... We watched the sunset and I tucked each one of my children into their beds, as I have done a thousand times before. Yesterday, Ashkan read a story to me while I rested. I was exhausted, but I did my best not to fall asleep too quickly. I see so much of myself in him... It frightens me. Will he grow up to be as involved in dangerous conspiracies as his mother, one day? Will he become a pawn to powerful people? Will his heart break because of this evil world, too? I know his future is far brighter than mine was. But the uncertainty... I cannot stop myself from worrying. He's such a smart young man...'"

  I skipped to the next entry, and felt the hairs on the back of my neck prickling up as I did. I didn't like where this was going.

  "'I woke up to Lev weeping... It is so sad to see. I know that my sickness is causing him so much distress. My sweet husband, who I've loved so fiercely, so unconditionally, for all these years... I hate seeing him upset. I feel terrible about all of this. It feels like it's my fault. Like I should be stronger for him... He doesn't know. About the lifeforce extraction ritual. The thing that weakened me to a point where any illness could be picked up as easily as a common flu. I wish I could tell him... But I don't think he would ever be able to forgive me. He would be so heartbroken if he knew about the whole affair. I've put him through so much pain... It was hard enough to expin the investigation and abduction. I just told him that I'd escaped. And that my relevant memories were ripped from me...'"

  I turned the page. It felt like time was crawling to a standstill, and it was incredibly hard to speak the words out loud. It felt like my own throat was constricting, my tongue going numb.

  "'Niista and Ashkan have been working so hard, assuming my responsibilities as best as they can, as much as I tell them they don't have to... The guilt I feel is unbearable. They deserve better than a mother who's been rendered an invalid in bed. A mother who's weak in the most literal sense. It has gotten to the point where I can barely move... Every breath is so hard. And the coughing. Gods, the coughing. I cannot stand it anymore. It is getting worse and worse every day. The medicine doesn't seem to be helping. And I feel so faint, all the time... It's so unfair. It's all so unfair...'"

  My hand trembled. I took a second to compose myself before flipping to the next entry.

  "'I have to believe that this will get better. I'm terrified that my children, especially Niista, have caught on to the graveness of my illness. How can I possibly expin myself? It's been nearly ten months since that damned siphoning... My symptoms have become far more obvious... It feels as though I'm suffocating in my own skin. Like my own body has become my own worst enemy. I've had so little energy as of te, it is becoming a struggle just to keep writing... I'm too afraid to stop. Because if I do, I have the terrible feeling I will never be able to start again. I'm too young to die, and yet... I can feel the end approaching. Nothing could've prepared me for this. I feel so lost. Everything went so wrong so fast! The physician says my lungs have become severely compromised, and they are bleeding, and my heart has trouble pumping... Lev keeps insisting I admit myself to a hospital, to be monitored round-the-clock. But I can't... I'd rather rest in my own bed, and take my medicine in private, and write in peace. He can't even look at me anymore. It's as if my very appearance is causing him great pain. I haven't had the courage to look at myself in the mirror for the past few weeks... Perhaps it is selfish of me to reject a hospital, when they may have the resources to help me better. But I don't want to face it. I can't. I just can't. If I am to be cured, I know in my heart I'll be cured in the comfort of my own home... That is how it's been with every other sickness, every injury I've endured. And if I am to die... I want to do so with dignity. I do not want to spend my final hours with complete strangers fussing over me, calling the physician every time my pulse drops. I don't want the st images I see to be the face of the doctor telling my family my heart's failed, or the nurses wheeling my body to the morgue...'"

  Tears had started to form in the very corners of my eyes, but I blinked them away. This was nothing short of heartbreaking.

  "It looks like there's...one more entry," I said.

  Shaye stood up and peered at the journal. She put a hand over her heart, then sniffled and turned around so her back was facing us. I opened to very st entry – which was only about halfway through the journal – feeling Ashkan's eyes on me the whole time.

  "'The only way I know how to be strong right now is by writing, as always. My beautiful Niista brought me a bouquet of fresh flowers earlier. I told her they were wonderful. They truly are. It was a nice, quiet moment between us. I could tell she wanted to say something to me. But nothing came. Because perhaps she's afraid, too... We both wept bitterly, hugged each other. It's not often I cry like that. And now that the moment is over, I feel so terribly hollow. I've slowly been coming to terms with everything. But it's a hard reality to accept, when my body's turning on me... When I am not the pilr of strength and guidance I was raised to be, I was taught to be by my mother. I think I know, deep down, why my life's drawing to an end so soon. My heart can only take so much. There was so much that I had to bear over the years... I don't believe I'll get to see my daughter's eighteenth birthday. And it pains me that my little Wendyll might lose his mother at only ten years of age. Ashkan will turn fifteen this winter. I wonder how many more times I'll get to see him smile, see him grow. I don't want to go. But I am going... I think that's why I feel so calm. The terror is gone... All that is left is sadness, and an infinite, hollow nothingness. As if life is slipping through my fingers, the seconds crawling by like minutes, hours like days. I know I will never see Vhinrud come to his cruel, bloody end. It will have to be avenged by someone else. I can only pray it will be by my own son, and his companions. I'm so proud of the lives they've made for themselves. Shaylie has grown to be such an empathetic, intelligent young dy. Ashkan reminds me so much of myself at his age, with his poise and respect for others, and his sense of humour. And Brielle... I haven't seen her for a long, long time. But I don't have to see her to know she's a formidable young woman. The three of them have so much to accomplish, so many demons to defeat... That thought is what will give me strength in my final moments. While I y in my deathbed, I will think of them. Those young, determined faces. Those golden hearts.'"

  Silence fell. Ashkan remained very still. His eyes were gssy with tears, his posture one of acute anguish. His fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, arms crossed.

  "There isn't...very much left," I said quietly.

  "Keep going," Shaye mumbled. Her head was bowed.

  I turned the page and began to read the sparse words written upon it. "'The st dusk of my life. It's all happening too fast. My body is being ravaged by illness, my memory is a muddled mess, I have the ghosts of nightmares that are impossible to make sense of... I just don't understand anything anymore... Lev is crying. It is breaking my heart to watch him be so grief-stricken. He has been keeping by my bedside, refusing to leave even to go to work. I fear my fate is slowly killing him, as well. It is hard to believe that the woman lying in this bed is me. I am frail and weak, my lungs wheezing for breath... It feels as though a boulder's sitting on my chest. My limbs ache. My eyes are stinging with fever. The doctors told me there was nothing more to be done. Nothing to help me. I just need to let nature take its course. Lev was right... I should have listened to him when he begged me to go to the hospital. Maybe then, I would have stood a chance. Maybe I could've survived this. I cannot shake the feeling that if I'd just done one thing differently, maybe this would've never happened. And still, despite this, I have a strange sort of calm... Perhaps I should feel afraid of dying, but I am not. Not really. The pain I feel in this bed is so terrible. And the sadness is worse than I could've possibly imagined. But the terror of death? Of death, and the unknown? It's gone. All of it. Perhaps it is because my fate has already been decided. There is no more questioning, no more mystery. The uncertainty has left. There is a comfort in that, isn't there...? Niista cooks for me, and the taste is gone... Ashkan sits with me and tells me stories, and his voice sounds like nothing but a gentle echo... Wendyll brings me his drawings and says that they are for me to get better, and his innocent kindness only breaks my heart that much more. He has so many questions about death... I'm terrified for the day he understands. The medicine does not dull my pain anymore... The blood-spitting coughing fits do not cease. Every breath feels like a fight. I cannot leave this bed without aid, anymore. Lev brushes my hair in silence, and I see the sorrow and defeat in his eyes. We both know.'"

  The st of the entry was scrawled on the adjacent page. Ink smears littered the parchment, some letters blurred, other words almost unreadable. But the text was clear enough to comprehend, as much as it hurt.

  "'My fingers burn as I write. It feels like the blood has frozen in my veins. The chill in my bones... It's impossible to sleep. I keep hearing hissing... Feeling a cold grip, like I'm being strangled. What a ugh we'll all have if I somehow manage to escape death, and stumble upon my journals years from now. My eldest son will surely think I was crazy, the poor dear. It has been hard for him. For all of my children. It feels so unnatural to know I am leaving this world so early. I only hope I can give them as many happy memories as I can. The moons are rising in the sky outside my window, though the sun has yet to set... It will all be over soon, I'm sure. Soon enough. Perhaps this is what it feels like, to be a dying star. I can only hope my family won't grieve too bitterly. All I have left to say is... I love them. I love them more than anything in this world, or any other. My family, my heart, my home. They are what made my suffering worthwhile. It was worth it, though. It was worth every agonizing moment, every second spent in pain and grief, because at the end of it all, I know I was able to be loved and to love, fiercely. And now that the time is nearing its end, I am only at peace. My story is drawing to a close... My children have the rest of theirs ahead of them. May the gods smile down upon them... ...Oh, Ashkan has returned home from school. I can hear him entering through the front door, the clunk of his bag as he sets it on the floor, the sounds of him rummaging through the cupboards for a snack. I'm sure he has something to share with me, as usual. I cannot wait to hear all about his day. His future is his to grasp, now. It's not for me to witness. ...I hope to write more soon.'"

  I looked up, my heart feeling like it'd been skewered with a knife. Silence, once again, filled the room. It felt as if the weight of a thousand boulders were hanging over us all, crushing us into oblivion. I stared at Shaye's back, still turned, then at Ashkan, still staring bnkly ahead. He blinked once. A single tear trickled down his face. I could sense it... The pain he felt was tangible, even to a complete outsider like myself. I didn't even know what to say. What was there to say?

  It was always so strange to think about how when I'd met Shaye and Ash st summer, that wasn't the first time I'd been in their company. And as I'd been learning, that was the same for a lot of people. So many involved with the prophecy had met me as a very young child: Ashkan's parents, Shaye's parents, Balgaur, Lunellia, Kadia, Headmaster Gunthren... Hell, it even sounded like Vhinrud knew about us back then. I was way too young to remember. All of these people were working together, trying to gather any sort of solution or insight into the prophecy that they could get their hands on. Trying to piece together a puzzle they weren't sure they could even complete. All for us three. Shaye, Ash, and me. We were united by the neckces, and shielded by the unwavering love of our parents. And Harwynis' dedication was so strong that now, even in death, she was trying to help us. Her journals contained information that I didn't know how we'd otherwise discover on our own. It felt so, so surreal. There was so much valuable data within these pages; I could barely comprehend any of it. It complicated things, but...also crified them. I felt like my eyes were being forced wide open.

  But there was no time to focus on that now. I slowly shut the book, the tch snapping closed as I did.

  "Ashkan...?" Shaye asked gently through her tears.

  "I'm... I'm all right," he mumbled. He took a second, then added, "I just don't know what to think..."

  She approached him slowly, and after a moment or two, took one of his hands in hers. "I don't want to know what you're thinking right now. I want to know how you're feeling."

  Those words hit him like a wrecking ball through a fortress. He lifted his head to face Shaye directly. Tears started to cascade down his cheeks, which was a heart-wrenching sight in and of itself. But his jaw remained tense, mouth closed, eyebrows drawn downward, fists clenched, knuckles white, like he was fighting tooth and nail to not break down into hysterics. It felt like the whole world was holding its breath. I wondered if he was irritated at Shaye for poking holes in his armour.

  "I am so angry," he hissed through gritted teeth. "I'm so...angry... It's... It's not fair..."

  Shaye only pulled him in and wrapped him in a tight embrace, pressing her cheek against his chest. And just like that, the walls broke. He clung onto her for dear life, burying his face into the crook of her neck as his tears fell like a waterfall. Shaye's own expression was stoic and sad all at once.

  Ashkan wept as I had never heard someone weep before. There was little noise – nothing but choked breathing and quiet sobs – but the very air vibrated with his anguish. It was as though he had been waiting years for this moment, this chance to cry in his friend's arms without feeling shame for doing so. As though the moment had been long overdue. It was...harrowing. I almost had to turn away, but I didn't. It was Ashkan. He needed our support right now.

  So, I stayed. And I approached the pair quietly, then wrapped my arms around them both. We were happy to be his rocks, to hold him steady in a tempest so much rger than himself. It felt like an age that we stood there, unmoving. I almost thought the day might fade to darkness and the stars would come out before we could ever break the hug. But eventually, the crying tapered off. The air no longer shivered, no longer felt charged. Just...still. Calm.

  "I don't even...know how to deal with this," Ashkan murmured. "Vhinrud, that... That monster, he... She got sick because of him... Because of the fragility he caused, the devastation, a-and..."

  Shaye was crying again. She pulled away from him gently. "I'm sorry... I know it isn't what you wanted to hear. But it's not your fault."

  "Right," I interjected. "It's Vhinrud's fault. And he's going to get what's coming to him."

  He rubbed at his face with his sleeve. "I know... It's just a lot, right now... I'm sorry."

  "Don't apologize," Shaye said.

  "We can't change what happened in the past," I spoke softly, "but we can make things right, together. All three of us. Your mom knew you would fight for the good of the world. She's going to get her wish."

  Ashkan met my eyes. I knew the grief in them all too well. I could sense it radiating off of him in waves, a mencholy aura surrounding him like a cloud. He seemed to draw a sense of peace and determination from my words, however. "...Thank you, both of you. I don't know what I'd do without you."

  "I hope we never have to find out," Shaye replied with a small smile. She wiped at her cheeks.

  I smirked and shook my head. "Over my dead body."

  Ashkan nearly smiled, then took in a deep breath and exhaled. His composure was slowly coming back to him. He stepped away, hands on his hips as though to ground himself, and let himself soak up the feelings of support. And, of course, he was more than a little embarrassed about showing that much emotion.

  "Agh... I hate getting mawkish." He ran a hand through his hair. "I can't even remember the st time I cried like that. But I can't...deny it feels better. So...thanks."

  "We're always here for you," I said.

  "That's what friends do, right?" Shaye added, looking to me for confirmation. "At least, what good friends do, I suppose."

  "Exactly."

  He looked to his mother's journals on the desk, and for a moment, I wondered if he was going to lose his composure again. Instead, his face steeled once more. "...I'm thinking something."

  I tilted my head. "That can be dangerous."

  Shaye chuckled a bit.

  Ashkan cracked a smirk in turn, then sighed. "No, I'm serious... I'm wondering if maybe we should go talk to Balgaur about this."

  My jaw almost hit the ground. "Balgaur? The bloodthirsty idiot that helped torture you...? What would he possibly have to say after all this time?"

  He folded his arms over his chest. "I mean... I know it sounds insane, and trust me, it does. I'll never forgive him for the pain he put us through, or how much of a colossal fool he is for following Vhinrud... But we still need all the help we can get. Maybe he can shed some light on some things...or help us track Vhinrud down, maybe. He knows where Vhinrud's hiding, right? He knows what his pns are. He knows Vhinrud, in general, better than anybody. That has to be good for something. How much has he told his boss about us three? Are we supposed to defeat someone who knows all about us, while we only has a vague idea of what's in store...? Our parents once trusted him with us. He watched us grow up, until a certain point. And when I was kidnapped, he wasn't as merciless to me as I'd expected... Maybe that alliance to my mother is still buried somewhere."

  "You want to try to turn Balgaur back into a good guy," I summarized. "You really think that's going to work...?"

  "Not at all. He's made his choices. I know that. And I don't trust him as far as I could throw him. ...But he has information that would help us. Maybe...remembering my mum and his betrayal of her would be the thing to finally tip his scales. Get under his skin. Leverage. Bckmail. ...Something like that. We might be able to prey on any shred of guilt that still exists in his heart. I mean, you don't think that's worth a shot? The fate of the world depends on this, doesn't it?"

  Shaye seemed to consider his words for a moment. "What about the blood contract Vhinrud forced him to sign? Those oaths are iron-cd. If he helps us, even slightly, and Vhinrud finds out, he'll kill him."

  He nodded. "Right, but it seemed like the terms of his contract were just to never contact my mother ever again, and to serve Vhinrud faithfully for as long as he needed... No stiputions about not aiding his enemies. It just sounded like Vhinrud forced him to do whatever he asked of him. I don't know if the contract would stop him from doing something Vhinrud didn't ask him not to do. It's a technicality. Besides, blood contracts don't alert the caster of the contract breaking like some kind of arm. Vhinrud has to use magic to keep checking if the oath is still intact in Balgaur's veins. So, if it's been this long, and Balgaur's still his madly loyal dog and right-hand man, and Vhinrud doesn't sense any foul py in him, there's no reason for him to believe the blood contract has been broken. Not for a while. I'm sure he doesn't check it constantly."

  My eyes widened. "You've done your research."

  "I read a lot," he stated with a shrug. "...What do you say, then?"

  "It's still dangerous, but I see your point..." I bit my lip, thinking. "Having the upper hand is always nice."

  Shaye was pensive. "You're forgetting one thing, though. How would we ever find Balgaur in the first pce?"

  Ashkan paused. "Well... I don't know. That's the dicey part. We don't know where he spends his time, nor do I think we should actually go searching for him ourselves. But I have a feeling he'll find us, sooner or ter. We can let him come to us."

  "That doesn't make me feel any better. We're talking about letting a criminal find us... On purpose," she mumbled. "You sure this is a good idea?"

  "No. I'm just telling you what I think," he responded. "Next time we see him – which will happen – we'll just...try to use my mother to get through to him, somehow. If I could have even five minutes to talk with him alone, without his goons or Vhinrud or whatever getting in the way... Well, maybe he'd listen. I don't know."

  I huffed. "I guess it's not a horrible idea. Just...don't think about that for now. You need to take time for yourself to process everything."

  Ashkan was silent for a long moment, his face unreadable. Eventually, he nodded. "...I agree. I think I should...be alone for a while, actually... Just...to take in everything that's happened."

  My expression softened. "That's okay. Do what you have to do."

  We moved to the door. After checking the coast was clear and removing the silencing charm, we walked into the hallway together. Shaye shut the door to Harwynis' study behind us. The scent of something delicious wafted in the air. Niista must've finished cooking dinner.

  Ashkan walked us to the front of the house. His demeanour was back to normal: pcid, guarded, and neutral. But the sadness was still present. His eyes had that glossy look to them that lingered after someone cried. Still, he'd done well at recovering quickly. Shaye and I put on our shoes and coats. I gnced out of the window to see our guards, who were chatting amongst themselves and having a ugh. I was a little impressed they were still waiting for us. They were probably bored out of their minds, but...I really didn't care. The King was probably paying them good money to ensure we were safe.

  Shaye gave Ashkan a final hug. "Have a good night. Call me if you need anything, all right? I love you. I'm sorry."

  He rested his chin on top of her head while holding her close. "Love you too... You've done more than enough, Shaye. It's much appreciated."

  She nodded and pulled away. She looked exhausted and overloaded. I was certain she needed a hot bath and a nap as badly as I did. But not as badly as Ashkan, who probably wanted to cry for another three hours and then sleep for a solid week. That's probably what I would've done.

  I walked over to him and held out my arms, a bit awkwardly, unsure if he would want a hug from me as well. To my surprise, he leaned forward and pulled me in. My arms wrapped around his broad frame. It felt really foreign. Not in a bad way. Just unfamiliar. I gave him a small pat on the back and stepped away. His expression was contemptive. I was curious about what he was thinking, but I knew I'd never find out.

  There probably wasn't anything I could've said to make him feel any better about the whole situation, but that didn't prevent me from skimming through my brain like a rolodex. There had to be something. Something encouraging or comforting. Instead, all I could do was look up at him and smile softly, with an unspoken understanding and solidarity. And he gave me the slightest, faintest smile back. I would take it.

  I turned on my heel, Shaye by my side, and walked to the front door. It clicked shut behind us, leaving us with our guards outside. It felt so strange to go back home now. In such a short span of time, Ashkan's life had been forever changed. It would only continue to shift more dramatically. Emiarhia depended on it, at this point. And there was nothing we could do to prevent the dominoes from falling one after another. All we could do was try to be aware of which one was falling, and when...and brace for the impact.