Although I encased the wound in Var, Kundra could still see it. I thought he wouldn't. Maybe he had so much more.
Ryllie has a bigger core than mine, but she didn't notice. Was it a skill? What was it?
Kundra held my arm as we flew. It wasn't as comfortable as being carried, but it felt better. It felt more normal.
As we approached the cave, the other side of the mountains emerged. The hard sand stretched out, and I noticed more—the mountains were dotted with hundreds, no, thousands of caves, each a different size and shape, like a strange, sprawling apartment complex. At the top, a few dragons lay on rocky ledges.
These dragons—these sixteen dragons—looked powerful, each different, yet something about them was familiar. It was my father.
He must have noticed me looking. A surge of Var let me see farther, but the moment I focused on him, a sense of dread filled my body. My ability—my Var—was instantly canceled out.
I tried again to get a better look—at his core, his surroundings—yet I couldn't. He was blocking me, keeping me from even using Var.
We descended to the base of the mountain. Ryllie hadn't arrived yet, but Eghiss was sitting at the cave entrance.
On her back, a terrible mark—a scar, a memory of the sign she had lost. A constant reminder.
Part of me wondered where Ryllie could have gone, but the other half already knew.
As Kundra landed, dropping me to the ground nearby, Eghiss moved in a flash, throwing herself at him. She embraced him tightly, her voice low, as if trying to keep Kundra from hearing. But I could tell—she wanted to break down.
"It hurts," she said. "It hurts."
She cried.
She clung to Kundra's clothes and cried and cried.
She pushed Kundra against the side of the cave. All he could do was watch as she clung to him, his arms wrapped around her, holding her as best he could.
I got a clearer look at the wound. A deep, brutal slash ran down her back, as if the bear had ripped the wing straight off. The flesh was uneven, torn in jagged layers where claws had dug deep.
Though it had healed slightly, angry red scars crisscrossed over raw, darkened skin. Parts of the wound still looked fresh, edges inflamed and pulsing with a sickly hue, as if her body hadn't fully accepted the healing.
Any part of me that thought the bear didn't deserve what I did to it was gone. Any regret I had was gone.
It had killed me a hundred or so times.
I was just happy she had survived. That they had survived.
I didn't want to say it, to be the one to break the tears she shed, but I knew I had to.
My Var slowly began to return. I looked at her core.
Her teardrop-shaped green pearl had dimmed, its glow weaker—like mine.
"The bear's dead," I said.
Eghiss looked up.
"Kundra saved me from it," I added. "He killed it."
Eghiss turned to Kundra. Kundra turned to me. He nodded, a small nod, but he understood.
"I got revenge for you," he said, his voice steady. "I'm sorry this happened." He lifted her into his arms. "I'll never let you get hurt again."
She didn't respond. But her core spoke the words she couldn't. It brightened, shining stronger and stronger, and I wondered if mine would do the same
Yet it didn't.
"Thank you," she whispered. Then again. Over and over.
A small smile formed on my face. I didn't mind that Kundra took the credit. I didn't mind—as long as Eghiss was happy. As long as they were happy.
She wiped her tears and began to settle down, sitting beside Kundra. He sat with her.
"I healed what I could," she said softly.
"You did great, Eghiss," Kundra said.
"Your brother did great," I added.
Eghiss smiled. "Now I'm like you," she teased. "I can't fly."
"Hey," I shot back.
"At least I can still glide," she grinned—a forced smile, but a smile nonetheless.
Then she looked to the sky, as if waiting. Searching.
Ryllie.
Almost like we were thinking the same thing, she spoke.
"Where's Ryllie?" she asked.
"I hope she's okay."
"She thinks it's her fault," Kundra interjected.
"It's not her fault."
We stayed outside the cave for a while. The weight of everything hung heavy in the air, but no one spoke.
Eghiss sat with Kundra, leaning against him. He sat against the cave wall, his posture relaxed but ready—like he could spring into action at any moment.
I stayed a little farther away, watching the sky. Thinking.
Thinking about the bear. About Ryllie. About how everything led to this moment.
A few moments later, Eghiss stood up.
"I think I'm ready to go inside," she said softly.
Kundra jolted up, and I followed.
A whistle—a familiar whisper.
The door moved slowly.
At the end of the cave, Judra was asleep. Then, in an instant, she awoke. In a flash, she appeared next to Eghiss, her presence sharp and alert.
"What happened?" Judra asked, her voice tight.
"We were attacked by a bear," Eghiss said, holding back tears.
"A bear?" Judra repeated, her expression darkening.
"Yeah," I muttered. "Why do you even have things that dangerous here?"
"But Kundra killed it," Eghiss quickly added.
Judra turned to Kundra, almost studying his pearl. Then she looked at me, a knowing glance in her eyes.
"At least it's dead."
"There are lots of other species here," she said. "I told you to be careful."
"I'm sorry, Mom," Eghiss whispered, her voice breaking.
I thought back to when my mother told me stories of elves and humans. Of things beyond what I knew.
Eghiss exhaled, glancing at her wound. "I'll see if it can be healed further."
Then she paused, scanning the area. "Where's Ryllie?"
"We don't know," Kundra admitted.
Without another word, she vanished.