Reaver's Fallen Kingdom

Chapter 26

[15 Years later]

Reaver is Industry

At least that's what the posters say. The world has changed much since I last saw. Isolation will do that to you. The streets of Bowerstone hustled and bustled as they always had. Only this time the noise of footsteps was accompanied by factories. The Industrial sector wasn't as bad as I had heard, then again the hero bloodline had a knack for righting wrongs. I was no longer queen, and it was a change I didn't mind. The position of Queen was much to bear, and news is my daughter has handled it quite well.

I was absent, not oblivious. I had heard the monks praying for a better Albion, for better rule. I was disappointed to hear of my sons failure to empathize. Had I been there I would've raised him better. Yet a part me understood how hard it was to grow up without parents. I'm sure my return would do nothing but stir up part of that anger, as well as confusion.

In truth, I wouldn't have many answers to their questions;

"Where have you been?", "Why did we think you were dead?"

I'm not entirely sure, and maybe I had died in a way.

The darkness had worked its way out of my system but it left an etch on my soul. The memory of it would linger always. Before my grand return to castle Fairfax to see my daughter on what was now her throne, I knew I had to meet a different destination first. The carriage ride was calming and stirred up a feeling of nostalgia in me. How long had it been since I had seen the world on my own? A century? The vines had grown up the sides of the manor and the windows glistened from the light reflecting from Bower Lake. It was good to be home.

I had heard of Reaver's elaborate festivities. I couldn't say I was surprised; partying had always been his coping mechanism, even all those years ago. Fortunately, there were no partygoers in the steps or bottles in the garden. Everything seemed so still; quiet.

My shoes clacked slightly against the stone steps. I reached the front door, setting down my bag. No servants, maids, butlers or anything of the sort, how strange. I slowly pushed the large doors open and shut behind, progressing into the manor.

He hadn't changed a thing. Not even a book was out of place from how I...How we, had left it. I guess that was a coping mechanism too. I turned towards the study, and sure enough there he was. His shirt slightly undone, his hair ruffled, a chalice in his hand as he dyed into the fireplace frames. I could see that pain again, the one that had existed even before me.
I cleared my throat.

"Nice to see you spent the works throwing my welcome home party, really you shouldn't have."

"Sparrow." As quick as he got the words out the cup shattered on the floor and I was engulfed in those all too familiar arms. It brought tears to my eyes. For me to be held like this, to be loved like this again, was something the darkness made me doubt as possible.

"You're back." His voice was quiet and it wavered as he spoke just barely above a whisper. He had a soft smile on his face and he held mine in his hands. It was almost as if he though I want real, that if he was too loud he'd wish it all away.

"I am, and so are you." I took his hand in mine. How I had missed times like these, like the ones we used have. We were so different then, yet still the same. It felt like we had met each other again finally, just like when he returned from Samarkand.

After a busy night of reacquainting and celebrating, I sat at the garden dock, soaking in the morning breeze.

"So it's really gone." He said as he sat down, passing me a cup of some sort of strong smelling tea. Coffee I think he called it, from Aurora.

"Yes, as far as any of us can tell. They're surprised I'm still alive and well. Those it doesn't kill, it scars."

"Well, to clear skin and lack of scarification." He clinked his glass on mine and took a sip, plopping his toes in the water.

"So, how are the kids?"

He gave me an apologetic smirk.

"Reaver, the hell have you done while I've been gone?"