Guardian (Sequel to Fearless)

Chapter Ninety Four

Elliot and Irila Gwenneth stood in the East Hall of the Remorda Guardians. The entire brigade had returned to the sanctuary earlier in the afternoon. The women and guests had been given leave to explore as they would while they were here, so long as they didn't break anything. And so, Iris's parents had explored.

They'd found the official Remordan paintings after a while -the ones painted and hung right after each Remorda Guardian had successfully passed his or her trials. Each person wearing the same medal with the same sigil. After Elliot and Irila had seen the first few in the North Hall, they'd confirmed with a resident that there was one for every guardian. They'd been taken to Iris's first, at request. And now... they were at her sister's. They stood there long enough for the guardian to take his leave of them before anyone said anything.

Rhalla Elias Gwenneth.

From above the name plate, a visage of the daughter they'd once known had been painted. Seeing her -the her that they'd better known, the long hair... the young Cricket... Irila choked on her breath. She stepped forward and put her hand on the image's surface. Elliot swallowed a lump in his throat.

"I still can't believe..." Irila whispered. "...for most of it, she was here. Right here. Safe."

Irila moved her hand for a moment, rubbing the dust between her fingers.

"I lost both of you," Elliot whispered. "Both of you."

Irila turned. "You haven't. Not yet." She put her hands at her sides. "I can't promise I can be the wife I used to be. Not all at once. Not yet. But I can be here." She whirled to the painting. "And so can she."

Elliot grabbed his wife's hand. "And that's all I could ever wish for -more than I could wish for."

"Isn't it all so ironic?" Irila smiled at her daughter's face. "At the end of our hell, there is peace and closure we've sought for twenty years. It's so funny... she used to promise us that she'd be a hero. Perhaps I should have believed her. I never thought, not after she was taken, that she'd be the one to come for me. I never thought we'd see her again. Of all people, I never thought I'd see my eldest daughter's face again."

"She's brave. Iris is brave too," Elliot said.

"They take after you," Irila replied.

Elliot looked to the woman that had survived the estate -that had survived the loss of a person she'd mothered, "I think that bravery might come from you."

"From both of us, then," Irila said. "Her son is brave too. Maybe... maybe it's in all our blood."

"Her son," Elliot took a breath. "Rhalla's son."

"It's hard to believe, isn't it? Dane Gwenneth, our grandson." Irila said. "Cricket's son. Rhalla's son. Did you see how he ran to her? When she came back with all the women, free and at her back, he ran to her. Embraced her. Of course I knew he loved his mother, but to see that..." Irila grinned. "Love survived. After everything -after all of the bad and all of the years, love survived. Somehow."

They were interrupted. From down the hall, a door opened and closed. Rhythmic footsteps sounded against the stone, echoing in the corridor. They turned, and after a few moments, they were face to face with the guardian master. The torch in Rhalla's hand cast over her face beautifully, cutting shadows over the angles of her cheekbones... the curve of her lips.