For the first time in a while—since the day I blew up at him—Orum joins me for a morning walk. The city is a much less depressing sight these days, with most of the rubble cleaned up, only a few lonely pillars standing not so tall amid scoured earth. We walk between their shadows, saying nothing. I can’t say I enjoy the moment, but I don’t hate it. The two of us are very different, but in these moments, we feel similar. I feel…something close to peace. Whatever else can be said about Orum, he’s good company.

  “High Noon.”

  Those are the first words he speaks, soft as rustling leaves, as we wander through the north of the city. There’s less destruction here, but the lack of people leaves a silence for the tragedy to echo in.

  “It’s barely dawn.”

  “The province,” he corrects gently. “The Spirit is entombed in the center of the continent. All provinces touch the Garden, but it is their duty to care for its resting place. Their cities are like what you envision—a mix of living and garden.”

  “Ah. Does it work?”

  “Mm. Their cities are beautiful.”

  Is this a complicated way of saying he approves of my plan? “That’s what I’m hoping for. I don’t want death and suffering to be the only things associated with me.”

  “No ruler can escape tough decisions.”

  “Still don’t want to be a ruler…but I’m starting to realize I’m not going to escape it. If I’ve got to do it, I want to leave behind something I’m proud of.”

  “Make sure it is sturdy, or it will not last long.”

  “What do you consider long?” I have a feeling the elf is thinking on a different scale than me.

  “Generations.”

  Knew it. “I’ll be glad if it lasts a decade. It’s a chance, not my legacy.”

  “That is something else.”

  Also knew we’d get here eventually. “Yeah, my eventual brats.”

  “Brats?”

  “Can you imagine Kii’s children being anything but?”

  “I thought you spoke lightly. They will be unrivaled nightmares.”

  “…Thought you adore Kii.”

  “My daughter is my world. That does not change the fact that she was a terror unlike any other. Your daughter will be of even greater potential.”

  “Doesn’t mean she’ll be a terror.”

  “All uncontrolled power is terrible to witness.”

  I acknowledge the very good point with a grimace, and we lapse into silence until a thought strikes. “Is that it then?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You spent two decades preparing to throw down with your wife to avenge your daughter. Then you marched across a continent to chase away her wife. That’s a lot of aggression that goes nowhere.”

  He huffs, the corners of his lips turning up the slightest bit. “Whatever anger I might have harbored has been thoroughly snuffed out by witnessing your union. You are good for her.”

  I gape at him, the peace of the moment rocked by my turbulent heart. “I don’t…are you joking?”

  “Why do you think I am?”

  “I’m terrible. Truly.”

  “You do not need to be a good person to do good.”

  That raises both brows. “Isn’t that what makes a good person? You can’t be a saint and murder children. Just like they can’t call you a villain if you heal the poor for free.”

  “What you are is what you do. Who you are is the feelings that come from what you do. A saint can have an evil heart, and a villain can mourn their victims.”

  “Does it matter?”

  “What you do can change with a simple action. Who you are…that is much more difficult to change. And the heart will always be revealed.”

  “So it doesn’t matter how much good a villain does—they’ll ruin everything in the end.”

  “Just as a good heart will redeem itself, given time.” Is he talking about me? I’m not sure; his gaze never leaves the sky.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  “Do you think I have a good heart?”

  “I know you do.”

  “Bold claim.”

  “I can see it in my daughter. You have changed her, for the better.”

  I scoff. “Sure.”

  “Do you know what I feared while raising her? Never that harm would come to her; between me and her mother, it would take one of the elders from the Garden or a matriarch of an ancient clan to begin threatening her. No, my fear was that she would become too much like her mother. That is why I was so desperate to free her from her prison. I feared that, left alone with nothing but shame, anger, and her instincts, she would become like all Atainna women before her.”

  “Would that be so bad?” They’re generals and queens.

  “You would not say those words if you knew my dedia in her youth. I have spoken with Kii about your troubles—how she struggles to understand your human traditions and your personal convictions regarding how to treat those beneath you.”

  I wonder if he realizes that he sounds quite unreasonable too. Is it as bad as the other elves if he wants to treat his ‘lessers’ mercifully? “We’re working on it.”

  “And that is nothing short of miraculous. It has taken me years to…soften Morgene, and it has less to do with her convictions shifting than a lack of youthful enthusiasm to pursue them. You have sparked in my daughter a genuine curiosity to explore thinking beyond that of the provinces.”

  “I guess that’s rare.”

  “Unheard of.”

  When he puts it like that, it’s hard to remain unmoved.

  “I haven’t done anything special.”

  He doesn’t fight the point, and I don’t push; anything more and it’ll feel like I’m fishing for a compliment. It’s good enough to bask in the unexpected and slightly overwhelming approval. Someone telling me I’ve done good is rare enough to savor. Really, I never imagine meeting Kierra’s father turning out like this. I think I’ll have to fight a small war to be accepted by my in-laws.

  “What will you do now?” What does anyone do after their grand quest is over?

  Unsurprisingly, it takes him a while to answer. “I will visit the other children.”

  “Think you’ll have better luck saving them?”

  He chuckles. “Not at all. The Atainna blood is strong. But it will be nice to see them. I will also spread word of Kii’s child. It will take a while for them to gather.”

  I almost freeze at the words, forcing myself to keep walking despite the visions flashing through my mind. “Um…”

  “It is traditional for the family to gather for births, as they are so rare.”

  “The entire Atainna clan will descend on Harvest?”

  “I would suggest arranging somewhere…remote.”

  Hah. As if that needs saying.

  Imagining that eventual future is enough to distract me until we arrive at the estate. As usual, the house is full of activity, though it’s unusually concentrated at the front. I don’t expect to feel fingers squeezing my heart as I see my lovers standing with Morgene, a small bag at the violet elf’s feet. She’s dressed for travel, her long silver hair done up and the skirts she prefers replaced with leather pants. She looks ready to walk off at any moment, and I’m not prepared for the feeling that inspires.

  Why would I miss her? Or Orum? It’s good that they’re moving on. Two less complications to worry about in a precarious time.

  Or so I try to tell myself as we near the others. There is an abundance of bittersweet feelings as farewells are traded, despite their contents.

  “You don’t have to worry as much about your cravings with your pure affinity but be careful what you bring around the rest of the clan. Meat is only the beginning. And please, for the strength of the Spirit, don’t devolve into eating filth. Whatever it offers, you can find better sources somewhere else.”

  “I am not controlled by my appetite, mother.”

  “Not yet. And remember to find a proper home, or you’ll end up burrowing into the ground.”

  “Would that be so terrible?”

  “Yes. Trust me. Dirt ends up in uncomfortable places, and the last thing anyone needs is an irritated, pregnant matriarch. Alana. Get stronger.”

  “You don’t need to tell me that,” my knight scowls. “I plan on it.”

  “Mm. Light users are always interesting to fight. Our affinities interact in fun ways, but you can’t begin to use such techniques at your level.”

  “…Do you just want a sparring partner?”

  “Of course. And you, lovely flower—keep your clan in good spirits. Remember what I shared with you; few flowers are noted in history, but those that are remain in our long memories for good reason.”

  “I will remember, mother.”

  When did that happen?

  “Oh, it has been a long time since I’ve seen one so suited for your role. Your voice alone is a treasure worth slaying a thousand souls for.”

  “Mother…” Kierra warns.

  “I won’t take her. But perhaps you might lend her to—”

  “No.”

  “Oh, fine.”

  Once we’re close, the group turns to us. Morgene smiles at me, and for once, there’s no threat behind her eyes.

  “I hope the two of you will survive parting,” she says, voice light and teasing. “You’ve grown rather close. Something you want to share with me, dedia?”

  He snorts, unfazed. I try not to gag. Objectively, Kierra’s father is a handsome man and a thoroughly decent person, but—ugh.

  “Are you ready?”

  “More so than you.” She pointedly looks at him—or rather, at the lack of luggage near him.

  “All I need is within me.”

  “Yes, but will it kill us to pack a few more comforts? We’re going to be eating nothing but root vegetables.”

  “The succubi could pack you something,” I offer.

  “They have, but he tends to wander and drag journeys out.” She sighs, a touch dramatically, though there’s fondness in the exasperation. She lays a hand on his shoulder. “We should get going if we want fresh meat tonight. Lou, Kii—we’ll see you soon.”

  “You will?!” I clear my throat as everyone turns to me. “I mean—uh—what is soon?”

  “Hm? Did I forget to mention it? I will return in winter.”

  “Eh?”

  She gives me a look that suggests she’s questioning my intelligence. “Do you think I’d leave my daughters, no matter how capable, to face a dragon alone? If nothing else, I can keep you all safe. Hopefully. We are talking about one of the great elders.” She laughs. “A true test of my abilities. I look forward to it.”

  She’s looking forward to fighting a dragon. She’s willing to fight a dragon—for her daughters. Plural. I know it’s because she’s insane, because all elves are the same. They don’t react to death and life-threatening circumstances the way normal people do.

  My eyes sting with sudden emotion. I grit my teeth, then force them to relax. Fine. I guess I’ll miss them. A bit. We aren’t close, but they’re…comfortable. A comfort. I’m powerful, but it’s nice having them close, knowing that if something goes wrong—something that could actually challenge me—they’ll be there. I can rely on them in a way I’ve never been able to rely on family. On anyone.

  “See you then,” I say, ignoring the way my voice trembles. Kierra doesn’t; her hand goes around my waist.

  Morgene doesn’t comment, but her eyes tell me she sees through my flimsy pretense too. Thankfully, she decides not to shatter it. With a final, devastating smile, her eyes glow with power, and the elves disappear, on to the next leg of their journey.