Within These Tangled Tales

Chapter Seventy

—Saad'yna—

That hollow ache spread, all-consuming in its rage. It had robbed him of breath, of the strength to stand, of the ability to speak or scream. It left him bereft of all feeling, all hope, until only the endless void of eternity surrounded him. The King of Bones knelt in the tomb of those vessels of Aer'Avyn he had been forced to kill with his own hands, the world outside lost to him, leaving him drowning in memories of living an eternity where he was forced to kill his wife over and over. The only thing that had kept him going was knowing that her body remained in the Sanctuary, that a piece of her remained pure, untouched, and at peace until he found a way to restore her fully. But now—that beautiful hope he had once possessed was gone, completely destroyed beyond repair just as Kellaran had done to his wife.

His Aer'Avyn.

Her true name hovered on the edge of his tongue, but he could not bring himself to speak it, not even there, alone and broken as he was. It would only be an agonizing reminder that he had failed her. A thousand, thousand years he had lived for her, only her, and now she was gone, lost forever beyond his reach.

What point, then, was there to continuing this cursed existence?

His wife. His child. He had lost both to these echoes. Perhaps, Virmira was right after all. Perhaps there was no point in allowing these echoes to persist where their paradise had once been. Aer'Avyn would be disappointed in him for believing such, but then again, she probably wouldn't even be able to recognize him.

"My lord," a tentative voice sounded from the doorway.

He raised his head but did not move from his position kneeling next to one of the coffins. His men knew this place was off-limits. They were never to disturb him here, and yet, he found he could not reprimand whoever had come here. Instead, he waited patiently for them to speak again.

"My lord, you're needed in the recovery ward. Tyen isn't...We're going to lose him, and Shara's inconsolable about her sisters. She tried to kill herself twice now. The twins are slipping away. Reva and Le'Mon are doing what they can for the others, but...there are too many dying, my lord. We need you."

He did not answer. Eventually, he heard his subordinate leave, footsteps retreating slowly down the hall. When the sound faded away, he returned his gaze to the tomb directly before him. The last version of Aer'Avyn he had killed. The one he had come closest to saving.

Ara Dreher.

It had been over three centuries since he had lost her, and he had thought he would never find her again. Though Ara had undoubtedly carried shards of Aer'Avyn within her, she had never felt anything like the way Orianna Tor'Varyan did. Ara had carried a sliver of his wife, but Orianna—when he looked at her, sometimes, he could see his wife staring back. She was the key, he knew she was, to bringing his beloved Aer'Avyn back, but now that chance was lost to him. With the Sanctuary destroyed, that last piece of his wife was lost forever, and he would never get her back.

More footsteps, but these did not stop in the doorway. They stepped beyond the threshold without a moment's pause and came directly to his side without a hint of fear. It was Reva who knelt at his side, entirely unconcerned by her breach in protocol. When he looked at her, he could see why. Her eyes were filled with exhaustion, her hands coated in different colors of blood, all mixing together into a dried black mess.

"We love you," she said quietly, her gaze filled with sorrow and affection. "None of us here follow you out of fear or obligation. We're here because you gave us a home when we had none, because only you could love monsters like us. You took us in, gave us a home, showed us what it was like to have a family. You're more than just our lord. We have fought and bled with you, for you, and we will be with you always. We need you now, just as we needed you then. Because your children are dying out there, and I can't save them. I don't have the strength, my lord. Please, don't leave us. Aer'Avyn would be proud of all you've done here, of how much you mean to us. You're the only one left to keep her memory alive now. If you leave us, the world will truly lose her, then."

His heart thudded painfully as he reached out and cupped her cheek, his thumb gently stroking along the pristine skin. "Four hundred years and you're still as annoying as the day I found you."

She smiled at that. "I was a sickly baby left for the tides to carry away."

"And I knew from the moment I picked you up you were going to irritate me to no end, but you're right. I've sulked enough. Aer'Avyn would be disappointed in me for mourning as long as I have."

"No one blames you," Reva shook her head fiercely as she helped him to his feet. "We understand, and after we've healed, we'll mourn with you, remember with you, and then, we'll drown the Creator's light in shadows. For Aer'Avyn."

Tenderly, he brushed her dark purple hair behind her ear. "Every day, you remind me more and more of my daughter. I think if she had grown, I would have wanted her to be exactly like you."

"That's because I'm amazing, but we need to go," she tugged him toward the doorway. "We shouldn't keep any of them waiting."

He watched her bound through the doorway, her footsteps retreating quickly down the hall as he paused there for just a moment longer. Turning back to the room, his eyes swept over the seven coffins. Seven iterations. Seven failures. There would not be an eighth. Once he helped his people, he would find his way to Orianna Tor'Varyan once more. He would prostrate himself before her and explain all.

He hoped it would be enough.