Sui Writes

Tag: short-stories

  • Blades of Ashes – Ch 10

    Arc 3: The Case of the Commandery Princess and the Prime Minister’s Narrow Escape

    Chapter 10

    Five years was a lifetime that passed by in a wave of burning ambition. For the Basileus, his young Basilinna, and Gesi Ajai, who worked at collecting money using the acquired Sura Clan workshops like a sandstorm devouring the landscape. His daughter, Naeri, now a Commandery Princess, turned into a desperate wife in the Maenaer residence that belonged to her husband. Faced with a cold husband and a nagging father who demanded rights and power, she reached for dirty old wives’ ways that almost broke her unwilling husband. Sending Raithion into a deep rebellion of wives and the so-called “warmth of a home.”

    It was a month before spring. Raithion stood on a high walkway watching legion officers train in the early morning at the barracks in Ninid State on the northwest border of the Lyria Kingdom.

    Haedor helped one of the training soldiers adjust his stance and his grip on a long spear as he made his practice movements. Raithion took in a deep breath, appreciating the loud calls the men gave as they trained.

    Kailu stepped up on the walkway from the main general’s office.

    “Commander, the border is finally peaceful. The information we have received from our spies in the Lavos Nation is that they are busy managing floods in the west of their kingdom. They will be too preoccupied to think about our border for the next while.”

    “That is good news for us,” Raithion said. “It also means I can return to the capital without worry.”

    “Not that you’ve been in a hurry,” Kailu noted with a sly smile. “You’ve lingered here longer than in the other states. I suspect it is because it is as far as you can get from the capital. Will you ever forgive your wife?”

    Raithion could not help the recoil of anger that filled him at the mention of Naeri.

    “No.” Raithion shook his head, bile rising. There were crimes committed against a person’s conscience that could not be forgiven, no matter the amount of time that passed. “I don’t want to talk about it. Let’s prepare to depart. It’s been a year and a half of travel. I’m eager to discover how the commandery office is doing.”

    “Commander,” Kailu started, then stopped. “Never mind, you’re right. I’ll get the Draeya legion officers to start getting ready for the trip home.”

    “Kailu,” Raithion said, glancing at his best friend.

    “Yes, Raith,” Kailu said.

    “It’s-it’s easier for me not to think about what she’s done,” Raithion said. “Somehow it gives me back control not having to dwell on it.”

    “But for how long?” Kailu asked.

    Raithion held his best friend’s gaze for a long moment, then shrugged. “As long as I need not to think about it.”

    “As long as it helps you sleep at night,” Kailu said. “I’ll pack the cotton you collected. Your mom has great weavers. They can make use of the raw cotton and make you a warm blanket to hide your head under.”

    Raithion chuckled. “I’ll leave the planning to you.”

    Kailu headed down the steps going to the warehouse where he would sort out supplies for their trip back to Genad City. Raithion watched his best friend leave for a few minutes, then glanced at the ring on his left ring finger. It was a Maenaer ring that also symbolized his marriage to Naeri. It sat calmly on his left ring finger and the urge to fling it across the practice yard was great. The rage that burned with a bright fire lingered in his gut. He reached for the blades he always wore in the scabbards at his waist and touched the intricate handles.

    “What are you up to now, Azula?” Raithion wondered.

    ****

    In the capital, the scent of mint toffee filled the afternoon air in the Maenaer compound. The sun was high, the peach trees were showing signs of blooming, though the weather had not let up yet. The courtyard was filled with activity, the groundskeepers trimmed decorative bushes, and the roses that Silveren had grown for the last five years.

    A young lady swept the path leading to Raithion’s residence. At the entrance, two children sat on a clean mat playing with toys. A maid watched over them with careful dedication.

    Beyond the open doors of Raithion’s residence was a great hall arranged for comfort and gathering. In the evening, Lady Naeri Maenaer and her children would always be found sitting on the comfortable couches, playing games, sometimes Naeri would read stories to the eldest son. Other times, she would hum songs to the children. A large armchair was placed in the living room at the most honorable and prominent spot, but it was rarely used by its owner.

    Naeri often sighed when looking at the large empty armchair.

    It was the end of the month, a day before the weekend. Usually, Raithion returned to the residence on Fridays when he was working in the capital city. He came to deal with pressing issues in the household during the weekend. However, his shadow had not crossed the gate for a year and a half. Naeri’s sighs had not stopped since he left, and they were likely never to stop until Raithion arrived. Everyone in the manor knew the reasons why but tried not to mention the reasons why.

    ***

    On Sura Island, in a cave Azula regarded as his second home, a grinding, metallic, noise filled the cavernous space, followed by a curse and the sound of falling tools.

    “Godfather dropped the gears.” A young boy’s voice reached Azula. “Here.”

    “Thank you, Ruri,” Azula said, taking the small gears from cute little fingers. He shifted on the platform he lay on to look at his little nephew.

    Ruri’s name was given to him by Lasma. She wrote it as “Ruairidh,” but she was the only one who did; the rest of the clan wrote it as Ruri. Ruri was a cute little copy of his father, Yemin, with a dash of Alise. The kid had the same pointed chin as Alise, but his expressive wide eyes were similar to Yemin, or so Alise and Lasma said. Ruri was a beautiful boy. He was four years and some months old. His baby strawberry hair was held in a ponytail with tight braids made by his mother. He wore a bright green tunic with gold embroidery on the collar and a dark pair of trousers, his small feet in small, cute black boots made by Senin. Azula smiled as he stared at the curious little boy. Ruri followed Azula everywhere, which usually got them in trouble often.

    Azula grinned because Ruri’s face was currently covered with smudges of the dark grease they usually obtained from Nerasa. He reached out to make a perfect dot on Ruri’s forehead with his index finger.

    “I can see you’re going to be a gear expert like your godfather in the future,” Azula said.

    “Gear expert,” Ruri clapped when Azula took the gears from him.

    “That’s right,” Azula said, then adjusted the gears he held and concentrated on making them fit into their designated spots. He fit the gears in and nodded when they settled in perfectly.

    “Ruri, my little ancestor, go sit on the long stick on the carriage for godfather,” Azula said, pointing to a long handle near where Ruri was standing. The carriage base was not complete, so Ruri climbed on the carriage floor with ease, his short legs pumping hard to climb up. Ruri then skipped to the handle, and, with some maneuvering, he sat on the long handle and held on to the sides of the handle with a pleased grin.

    “Now what, Godfather?” Ruri asked.

    “Now,” Azula watched the lever come down slowly with Ruri’s weight.

    The gears he had worked on for days started moving, each one doing its share of work to keep the cogs moving. Azula grinned as the gears picked up speed. Azula slid out from where he was lying and wiped a hand over his face to get rid of sweat. He noticed he still had dark grease on his hands too late.

    Ruri giggled as he looked up at him.

    “Godfather has dirt on his face too,” Ruri said between childish giggles.

    Azula stepped away from the rough prototype he had created. It wasn’t complete, but at least his idea was coming together. His thoughts had been on the efficiency of transporting the ore to the clan’s workshops in the village center for a while. The men who oversaw the ore transportation were getting on in age, and carrying large bundles of ore out to cargo carriages was backbreaking work and time-consuming.

    Azula wanted to create a cart that could carry a sizeable bundle and then move it with a simple lever. The lever Ruri was sitting on only needed to be shifted, and the cart would move down the rails Azula had been having the men lay down from the mine exit to the village center.

    Ruri clapped with excitement as the gears kept moving, and he lost his balance, almost falling off the lever.

    Azula lifted the boy off the lever and turned off the mechanism.

    “Ruri, we did it,” Azula said, lifting Ruri up and placing him on his shoulders.

    “We did it!” Ruri echoed, his hands clinging to the thick black hair clip that held Azula’s long strawberry hair. Hair that held no braid to this day. He was still considered a mourning chief in the clan.

    Azula ran around the open space of the workshop, making Ruri clap with glee.

    “What are we celebrating? Ruri is so happy,” Lasma said, as she entered the workshop.

    “Godfather made gears move,” Ruri said, clapping with joy. “He made me sit on the lever, and it was like magic. They went up and down, click, click, click.”

    “Like magic,” Lasma grinned. “Your godfather knows how to give you a great time. Goodness, your faces are full of dark grease. You both need a bath.”

    “We need a bath!” Ruri said.

    “Only knows how to repeat things,” Lasma chuckled. “Come, we need to head back home now. Azula, I came to find you because the council has requested a meeting this evening.”

    “Why?” Azula asked with a groan. “All they do is talk and impose regulations on me. I’m exhausted and would rather be laying tracks on a cliff on the mountain. Have Juya stand in for me.”

    Lasma bit back a chuckle at Azula’s unwillingness for politics.

    “Will you have Juya attend all your council meetings then?” Lasma asked.

    “He’s great at explaining what those people want after they ramble on for hours,” Azula said as they left his workshop. The path outside was well-paved and led from the relative quiet of the foot of the mountain to the back gardens of the Doriel family home.

    “Mom, how long do you think it will take Alise to notice that Juya is in love with her?” Azula asked.

    Lasma clasped her hands behind her back as they walked.

    “I don’t know,” Lasma said, looking up at Ruri, who was enjoying his ride on Azula’s shoulders. “Perhaps, you should be asked the same question, Azu. When will you notice the golden-haired general, Trevan of Nerasa, is in love with you. Everyone has noticed that he is the only reason you’ve managed to keep our island from an annexation battle with Nerasa Kingdom. He is protecting Sura Island.”

    “He is protecting us politically,” Azula said. “But that’s not the reason we are still free of the Nerasa Kingdom’s pressure. We technically still belong to the Lyria Kingdom. Trevan is wary of the Lyria Kingdom’s legions. He knows a war between them would devastate trade and this island. So, Nerasa is hesitating. It is to our advantage that they keep hesitating, but it won’t last. This must be what the council wants to discuss.”

    “Yes,” Lasma confirmed as they approached the back courtyard of the Doriel home.

    The scent of cooking filled the air, the women in charge of the kitchen were busy making the midday meal. The Doriel Manor fed almost fifty people daily; workers in the workshop where Azula liked to manufacture his blueprints. His master had long left the crafting to him and moved to the yard controlled by the Sura in the Nerasa Kingdom. Azula visited him when he could extricate himself from the yoke of governing the thriving Sura Island.

    “Azula,” Lasma said, her tone somber as they slowed their walk. “Our island has grown under your guidance. Our people have stable livelihoods, the farms are filled with harvest, the children are going to school and have hope for their futures and careers. The eldest of our people are well taken care of.” Lasma smiled. “Perhaps this is what your father dreamed of creating when he tried to have the clan thrive in Genad City. You have made it happen on our island despite being a chief appointed in a time of great tragedy.”

    “There are cracks in the barrel,” Azula reminded his mother, pausing by a stone outdoor table. He lifted Ruri from his shoulders, kissed the boy’s cheeks as he set him on the table.

    “Be careful,” Lasma said as Ruri jumped off the table and ran into the house with great enthusiasm. “Look at him, running wilder than you when you were a toddler.”

    Lasma sighed, then turned to look at Azula.

    “What cracks are you talking about?”

    “Our people are comfortable, no longer worried about surviving,” Azula said, then met Lasma’s gaze. “They have time to think about what happened five years ago. The questions have been whispered often around me.”

    “You think our people wonder about their loved ones who died in Lyria,” Lasma said.

    “I don’t wonder, I know,” Azula said, crossing his arms against his chest. He tried not to think about the Lyria Kingdom. If he tried to spend a minute thinking about it, he might abandon his promises to his mother and set out on a revenge spree. He still wanted to know why his clan, his father, had to endure such betrayal in the capital. Closing his eyes, he forced the negative feelings under control and focused on the present.

    “Mom, Sura Island is doing well now,” Azula said. “While we don’t need the mainland, we still need to navigate a path into full independence. We need to find a way to escape if Nerasa Kingdom brings up annexation.”

    “It’s good that you know that you can’t string along the golden-haired general for another five years,” Lasma said with a chuckle. “You’re also right, while our people wonder about the past, I pray that the Lyria Kingdom does not remember us and our ability to pay taxes. I can only imagine what kind of demands they will make on us should they land on our shores.”

    Azula dropped his arms to his sides and shook his head. “Okay, I’m getting a headache discussing this situation. Can we continue later and deal with it when it is absolutely necessary?”

    “You’ve said that for a year,” Lasma said as Azula started walking to the door. “We’re already at the absolutely necessary juncture. We need to find a solution soon. I’m telling you that is what the council will push for.”

    Azula sighed. “Ask Juya and Alise to think on it and figure out what to do next.”

    “Don’t think I don’t see what you’re doing when you say that,” Lasma said in exasperation.

    “Mom, sometimes, I’m just letting you know that I’m a very lazy demon and would rather be smearing grease on my face in my workshop than figure out political games.”

    Azula entered the kitchen and grinned when the women all greeted him with enthusiasm. They forced him to wash his hands and face in a large basin filled with hot water, before offering him a plate of food. Now this was the right kind of problem to manage, he thought as he received a plate filled with roasted sweet and sour chicken.

    ***

    In the grand palace in the imperial capital, Genad City, two boys sat on a clean, colorful mat playing with toys in the bright sun-filled greeting room of Rose Hall.

    Basilinna Soriel was hosting the noble and notable ladies of Genad City to celebrate the warmer weather. They were having afternoon tea and pastries made by the skilled palace baker and an exciting reading by a popular romance writer.

    Soriel moved around the room talking to the women and building bonds. She provided help and support on any reasonable requests. It was her small way of winning support for her husband in the imperial court. She was winning the wives’ hearts to soften the husbands’ goals, wielding soft power to win the hard hearts of the power-mongering courtiers.

    Soriel finished a conversation with the prime minister’s wife, who wanted her to attend her daughter’s birthday. She went to join her mother and Noriel who sat on a couch by the windows showing off the rose garden at Rose Hall.

    Soriel sat next to Noriel and let out a soft, tired sigh. Meira, Soriel’s silent guard, moved a few of the attendants to block the view of the three women from the rest of the room. Soriel accepted the cup of orange juice Noriel gave her and drank it in one go. Placing the cup on the table, she sighed when she met her mother’s amused gaze.

    “Your gift of gab has only grown these five years. It surely should tire you,” Silveren said. “All these ladies have received a kind word this afternoon. Your husband may not be happy with your burgeoning social calendar.”

    “He will have to appreciate it. The relationships I’ve been cultivating have grown strong enough to rival Olneth’s authority,” Soriel said, her gaze shifting to the two boys playing on a mat a few feet away. “Our son depends on my husband gaining more strength. So does Raith’s son. Speaking of which, why didn’t Naeri come with you today?”

    ***

    Silveren sighed. She looked at the rest of the hall and was glad to notice the visiting ladies had tacitly moved to the other end of the large room and were busy tasting pastries and talking about the story the writer had read earlier. The weather had stopped snowing and the ground was thawing, the flowers beginning to bloom, while the farmers prepared for planting.

    It was a time of renewal.

    Silveren hoped her son, Raithion, would find it in his heart to forgive his wife soon.

    “Word came from the Commandery Office this morning,” Silveren said, her gaze on the four-year-old boy sitting a few feet away.

    His name was Yulin Maenaer. He was Raithion’s heir, a child born by Naeri after she drugged Raithion using an unknown aphrodisiac at a party in her parents’ home. Naeri’s apothecary was skilled. She got pregnant with the first try and to a boy no less. While Raithion could not forgive her first betrayal, Silveren could not fault Naeri for helping to stabilize their family’s future. With an heir, both Thanir and Raithion’s titles were secure. Still, Silveren had no idea how to heal the planet-sized rift that had grown between Naeri and Raithion.

    “Raith is supposedly heading to the capital. He should be arriving today or tomorrow,” Silveren said, looking away from the children to meet Soriel’s knowing gaze.

    “It’s good that he is coming back,” Noriel said, her gaze shifting to Yulin. “His son should spend more time with him. At this rate, Yulin will start thinking our father is his father.”

    Soriel sighed. “Naeri stayed home to prepare for him, I guess.”

    “Mm,” Silveren said. “She’s cooking and cleaning and arranging for new clothes for the children and Raith.”

    “He will end up here in the palace,” Soriel predicted with disturbing accuracy.

    Silveren smiled because her youngest daughter knew her eldest son best.

    “Raith stays in the commandery prince quarters or at the barracks with his soldiers when he is in the capital. He has done that since Naeri drugged him the second time to get Skye.”

    “The girl is a year and a half, so cute and cuddly,” Noriel said. “How does brother stay so angry at his wife?”

    “Your marriage is loving, sister,” Soriel said, sipping a second cup of orange juice. “Your husband has not done anything to betray your trust since you married. Your son, Leisha, is happy and running around in a loving family. What has Naeri done all this time in our Maenaer home but fill it with aphrodisiac poison plots,” Soriel scoffed. “Which of us has dealt with such frightening things?”

    Noriel sighed and reached for her teacup and took a slow sip.

    “Mom, you’ll have to take care of Yulin and Skye,” Noriel said after a period of silence. “Don’t let them learn bad things from their mother. Naeri’s methods are too cunning for our straightforward home.”

    “I know,” Silveren said with a nod. “In any case, the children are our blood, regardless of how they came into existence. I’ll have Jaguar start teaching Yulin when he turns five years old.”

    “That’s good,” Soriel and Noriel both agreed.

    Jaguar was a scholar who the Maenaer family had sponsored in Draeya County. He had taught all the Maenaer children, and his school was based in the family home in Draeya County.

    “Isn’t five years old too soon to take a child from his mother?” Noriel asked after a moment.

    “When your mother is as scary as Naeri, who is advised and hounded by Gesi Ajai,” Soriel said, shaking her head. “I think this child should leave the kingdom and go to a foreign land until we can subdue his father. Since that is not an option, and he is of our blood, we must get him to choose our Maenaer values.”

    “Little bird is right,” Silveren nodded in approval, her gaze shifting back to Raithion’s son.

    Yulin got up on the mat, followed closely by his cousin, Rane, the Basileus’s heir, and the boys raced to Silveren’s side.

    “Grandma, a gift,” Rane said, holding a bright green feather that had probably escaped a flower pin worn by one of the ladies and had fallen on their mat.

    Silveren chuckled and took the bright green feather. “Rane and Yulin are so cute. They brought me a feather. What should I give you in return?”

    “A peach,” Yulin said, his eyes so green and bright just like his father’s, sparkled with hope at this age.

    “A jade,” Rane said, also looking at her with Soriel’s brown eyes.

    Silveren sighed. Her children had given birth to replicas of themselves. Yulin, the four-year-old boy, only ever wanted to eat good things, play to his heart’s content, and sleep, just like his father when he was young.

    Rane, on the other hand, was truly a prince. He played with expensive jade and gold, but his heart was pure, and he loved his cousin.

    Silveren reached for a peach slice on the table and gave it to Rane. Rane turned and gave it to Yulin without hesitation, making sure his cousin held it well before he smiled wide. Yulin took a bite of the fruit and Rane clapped.

    Silveren wished life was just as easy as Rane and Yulin’s cute relationship. She wished there was an easy way to heal Raithion’s heart. She stroked Rane’s dark hair and reached out to caress Yulin’s cheek before she looked at Soriel.

    “If Raithion comes to the commandery office, tell him I’m looking for him. There is a repair list for the manor’s defenses that needs his attention.”

    “I’ll tell him,” Soriel said.

    “Tell him he doesn’t need to sleep in his residence. Our main house has many rooms,” Silveren said with a sigh. “I’ll let him use as many as he wants.”

    Noriel grinned. “It’s almost the Spring Festival. I’ll visit to make him the mint toffee he likes to eat.”

    Soriel chuckled. “Everyone in this city remembers how much he loves your mint toffee.”

    Silveren smiled as her daughters laughed at the happy memory.

    ****

    Naeri arranged a blanket over her daughter in the rocking bassinet. They were in the great room, sitting on the long couches near sunny windows. Her gaze shifted to the large armchair that she always hoped Raithion could use but never did, and her heart ached.

    She pricked her finger with the needle she held and brought her left index finger to her mouth to suck the welling blood. The dark cloak she held had an intricate white-lion embroidery she was trying to finish on the hem. She wanted to gift it to Raithion when he came home, that is, if he would even accept it.

    Sitting on a stool opposite her was Rassa, her closest attendant. Rassa was finishing up the work on one side of the cloak with the help of a young lady.

    Raithion’s housekeepers, two sisters named Aryn and Sira, had gone with Silveren to the palace. The butler was busy managing the daily needs of the manor, and the last of Raithion’s trusted attendants, a young man named Sharian, had gone with Raithion on his expedition to the border.

    The rest of the attendants who ran the residence were loyal to Thanir and Silveren and often left with them when the couple was not around. Which meant the manor was quite peaceful for the moment, with only Rassa and the young girl from Naeri’s household.

    Naeri had declined Basilinna Soriel’s invitation as she wanted to make sure their residence was neat in case Raithion arrived home. She had not seen him for a year and a half. In truth, she had not seen him since she gave birth to their daughter, Skye. The girl was already born, but her husband could not forgive her misdeeds.

    Naeri let out a soft sigh and reached over to hold the handle of the rocking bassinet. She moved it from side to side, her gaze on the cute little girl who had dark hair like her father and brown eyes to match Naeri’s.

    Raithion gave beautiful children. It was a pity she would only get two from him. He now treated her worse than a leper. She was not to be touched, like a terrible illness.

    “What do you think can change Raithion’s attitude toward me?” Naeri asked Rassa. “He is so set against me. I don’t have a place to start with him. Surely, five years have passed. Others look at us like we are an old married couple. If they knew that he can’t stand to drink a glass of water near me, let alone look at our children, wouldn’t it be a joke.”

    Shaking her head, Naeri lamented her strange fate.

    “Give him another year,” Rassa said. “Perhaps when the children are running around and voicing their opinions, there will be a way to soften his heart.”

    “But,” Naeri started, then stopped, staring at the orange jade ring she wore on her left ring finger. She had clearly stood in the large Maenaer hall, watched as the Basileus officiated their marriage in person, only to face a cold husband in the side residence. Draeya Commandery Prince Raithion Maenaer did not try even once to give her a chance. He had been cold and unyielding from the start.

    Faced with her father’s constant nagging to get an heir, she had no choice but to seek help from the apothecary who had taken care of her since childhood. She had thought that once their first child was born, Raithion would soften toward her, but he’d only grown more distant. Then, two and a half years ago, in a fit of desperation and selfishness, she used the apothecary’s drug in Raithion’s bathwater. It resulted in Skye, but a clear break emerged in her marriage.

    Raithion moved out of their residence and went to live in the Commandery Office full time. No amount of pleading, threats, or requests would change his mind. A year ago, he had left the capital to patrol the state’s armies and the kingdom’s borders on behalf of the Basileus.

    The heartache of loneliness was something Naeri could not describe to Raithion’s happily married sisters and mother. Not even the powerful Basilinna, who had all of Raithion’s support, could understand.

    Naeri was well aware that she was quite pitiful as a wife. She could only rely on Silveren and Thanir’s parental power to control Raithion. His parents were the only people who could summon their son home. She had no power over Raithion, and it was the saddest thing in the world.

    Naeri sighed again.

    “Well, let’s get the cloak done,” she said, picking up her needle. “Lady Silveren got a list from Butler Daron asking my husband to help fix the back wall of our residence. The defenses have deteriorated. He is now powerful in the capital, and his enemies grow every day. I know he will come to help fortify the walls. At the very least, he will finally put eyes on Skye, poor girl has never seen her father.”

    “Don’t worry, My Lady,” Rassa said, smiling as they both looked at Skye, who was sleeping peacefully in her bassinet.

    ****

    It was raining hard when Raithion finally arrived at the Maenaer Manor in the capital. It was almost midnight. Daron got the guards to open the gates and light the lamps.

    “Lord Raith, welcome home,” Daron said as Raithion dismounted his horse and handed the reins to the waiting stable steward.

    “How is everyone in the house?” Raithion asked Daron as he entered the main house.

    “His Grace, your father, is in Draeya County inspecting the planting season at the estate,” Daron said. “Lady Silveren visited the palace today. She returned an hour ago and has gone to sleep. The Commandery Princess has retired to the side residence.”

    “Don’t wake them,” Raithion said, then nodded to the three cargo carriages waiting. “The legion officers will offload the supplies we need for the repair lists. There are packages put together by Kailu and Sharian. Sharian collected gifts for everyone in the house. Distribute them as you wish.”

    “I’ll make sure everything is arranged,” Daron said with a pleased smile. “I had Aryn and Sira arrange your quarters on the first floor of the main house. No one has had access to them other than me, Aryn, and Sira. We have not told the side residence where you will sleep.”

    “Thank you,” Raithion said, entering his parents’ house. He greeted Aryn and Sira, who were waiting for him at the stairs. His clothes were soaking wet after his hectic ride in the rain. The girls first led him to a hot bath, then upstairs to his rooms, where he changed into comfortable clothes and fell on his bed into a deep sleep.

    The next morning, Raithion dressed for a day spent working at home in a soft white tunic, dark trousers, and boots. He had no need for weapons at home, but he did keep daggers in his boot. It was Saturday, and his mother’s list weighed on his mind.

    He went downstairs to the dining room and was eating grilled chicken slices, tomatoes, and slices of bread spread with soft cheese when his mother came down.

    “The birds must be flying upside down this morning,” Silveren said as she sat at the round dining table. She accepted a cup of warm water from Aryn and drank it with a small smile.

    “Daron,” Silveren said when the butler came in, carrying a kettle filled with hot water for tea. “Can you look out the windows to make sure the birds are up the right way? My son is sitting at my dining table. I must be dreaming.”

    “You’re not dreaming, Lady Maenaer,” Daron said, amused. “Lord Raith came home late last night. He did not want to wake you after a tiresome day.”

    “Mm, how good he is to his mother,” Silveren said, then glanced at Raithion, who was watching her quietly. “Are you injured?”

    “No,” Raithion said.

    “Would you tell me if you were?” Silveren asked.

    “No,” Raithion said.

    Silveren scowled at him.

    “I don’t want to worry you unnecessarily,” Raithion said.

    “Then, aren’t you concerned that I would miss you if you were gone for a year?” Silveren asked. “What good things are at the border that you stayed so long?”

    “The border is secure. I’m not worried about war breaking out soon after the work we’ve completed,” Raithion said.

    “I’m so happy for you,” Silveren said. “Meanwhile, I’m worried the cold front that is raging in your house will turn my flowers frigid.”

    “Then, Daron, start the fireplace in the great room and warm up my mother’s flowers so that they don’t freeze,” Raithion said.

    “Do you think we’re discussing peonies?” Silveren asked, sipping the steaming tea Aryn served her.

    “Then what would we be discussing?” Raithion asked as he finished his food. He pushed his plate aside and poured himself a second cup of hot tea, sipping it with a contented smile.

    “How long will you keep up a cold front with your wife?” Silveren asked.

    “I can’t trust her with my clothes, food, bedding, bathing water, hell, the first time she drugged me with wine at someone else’s home during an event. You tell me, Mother, where should I start?”

    Silveren stared at him for a long moment, then nodded. “Then, Yulin and Skye, where should you, their father, start with them? They are yours.”

    “She takes care of them—”

    “I’m not done,” Silveren cut in. “Those children are innocent. They are Maenaer, born in these halls. They are part of the future you’re working so hard to protect. As their father, where should you start? Holding such a long grudge, you will end up hurting them.”

    “My grudges shall be resolved by me when I’m good and ready to do so,” Raithion said. “As for the innocent, Mom, I can only entrust them to you. If you leave them to me, I will poison them with anger and hate.”

    “Raith,” Silveren said, her eyes suddenly filled with tears.

    “This is the most I can do at the moment,” Raithion said honestly. He had had a year to think about his current predicament with Naeri. His heart was not resolved to the betrayals she had placed on him. If she wanted children, she should have agreed to discuss it with him. Perhaps they would have found a way, but to force him… he shook his head and met his mother’s gaze.

    “Give me time,” Raithion said. “Let me work at finding peace to deal with this in my own way. Call Jaguar and have him start training the boy early. Let the child leave this place and go run in the wilds of our Draeya County. He will be able to stay open and carefree for a while longer before he learns the truth of his father and mother.”

    Raithion got up then, pushing his chair back.

    “Today, I’ll fix the walls and the defenses as you’ve asked. I’ve tasked Kailu with rotating the guards in the manor,” Raithion said. “I’ll head back to the Commandery Office tomorrow morning.”

    “Raith,” Silveren cried out in protest.

    “Dad has everything he wanted in place,” Raithion said, his voice hard. “The power, the titles, a future heir, a powerful Basilinna, and his alliance with the Basileus is assured. How I’m living now is the best way for me to survive all this joy he has worked for. Don’t judge me for it. I’ll be outside if you need me.”

    ****

    Saturday morning, Naeri left the Maenaer Manor early without telling Silveren. She wanted to get butter from her mother’s workshop. She had discovered that their house made very good butter. Raithion was partial to mint toffee, and while she could not make it the way he liked it, Silveren appreciated fresh butter. So Naeri tried to get a fresh batch from her family when Raithion was around.

    Her mother was excited to see her when she arrived. She got a scolding for having left the children at home, but she was in a hurry to get back. Naeri had only brought Rassa with her. Benira Ajai was still adamant about feeding her a cup of tea, so they sat on the patio at the back of the house and ate pineapple pastries.

    Naeri found herself relaxing as she listened to her mother discuss their neighborhood’s gossip: who had a new baby, which daughter was caught seeing a man she shouldn’t, which family had gained or lost wealth. It felt nice to sit around and listen to gossip.

    Suddenly, Naeri realized the Maenaer women did not gossip like Benira. No, Silveren, Noriel, and Soriel discussed the harvest, planned parties with dignitaries to achieve specific goals, and managed war supplies for their brother and Thanir Maenaer.

    Here in her mother’s courtyard, the conversation was simple, down-to-earth, and easy. Naeri smiled as her mother reached up to help her fix a flower pin that was askew.

    “I heard that Raithion is back in the capital,” Benira said. “The girls went out to fetch fresh milk from the dairy, and they saw his right-hand man riding into town. He must have arrived very late last night.”

    “Mm,” Naeri said, though it was news to her. No one in the manor had alerted her that Raithion was already home. She had left the house early, thinking he would be arriving later. Her heart skipped a beat. She needed to get back home fast. Raithion was like a fast wind. He came and went in the blink of an eye.

    “I should take the butter home. My husband is always so busy,” Naeri said, placing her cup down. “I want them to use the butter from our workshop for the mint toffee he likes.”

    “Okay, I’ll go hurry the steward. You should say hello to your father before you go. He’s in the greenhouse,” Benira said as she got up. “I’ll have the butter ready by the time you get back.”

    “Thanks, Mom,” Naeri said, getting up and tidying her skirts. She hurried to a path that would lead her to the back of the mansion. She was in a hurry as she walked down the path to her father’s greenhouse. She only realized her father had guests when she was close to the door, and it was almost too late. There were three bushy mulberries near the greenhouse entrance, so Naeri ducked behind one of them to avoid disturbing her father. He got very angry if he was interrupted. Patting her chest for thinking fast, she let out a relieved breath and settled down to wait for her father to finish.

    Then her father’s voice drifted to her. He was angry, raging…

    “…the Prime Minister has gained support these last two years. Basilinna Soriel has made quite an effort in helping her husband gain the support of Libert ministers. She holds soft power, which she understands how to use, thanks to her brother’s backing. These siblings have made it nearly impossible to go against her and her support for the Prime Minister. We are at an impasse. Our Populi party cannot shake the Prime Minister’s position,” Gesi Ajai kicked something and let out a growl. “I need something to shift this deadlock. Otherwise, we’ll never win more leverage at court.”

    “What about the plan Rosner gave up?” Sazama asked. “It’s still viable. Rassa is here too.”

    Naeri clamped a hand over her mouth, wondering what her closest attendant was doing with her father.

    “I’m here, but what does that have to do with Rosner?” Rassa’s voice drifted to Naeri.

    Naeri’s eyes widened as she realized her closest attendant worked for her father. No wonder, she thought, as fear bloomed in her heart. No wonder it was so easy to get the apothecary’s aphrodisiac when she needed it.

    Of course, Rassa would have been the one to tell Gesi that Raithion was cold toward her. Then he would have pushed for the apothecary to make the formula that she had given Raithion. It had happened so easily, so fast.

    “The Draeya Prince is around,” Rassa said with confidence. “I can keep an ear out and see if he will host the Prime Minister at the manor. Sazama can handle it if the Prime Minister doesn’t visit. I would prefer it, as it reduces the risk for me. The Draeya Prince is very strict with security.”

    “Do you have it?” Gesi asked. “Sazama?”

    “I have it,” Sazama said. “I’ll give a portion to Rassa. She will know how to brew it in tea. One big sip and we will not have to worry about the Prime Minister.”

    “That is if Rassa is able to act when he visits the Maenaer,” Gesi said.

    Naeri gasped and could not hold back the sound in time. Fear propelled her into a run, and she took off at a fast sprint, heading back to the patio where her mother had served tea. She did not look back as she ran to see whether her father’s accomplices had seen her. Her heart pounded so hard in her ears she could not think.

    ****

    “Damn it, it’s Lady Naeri,” Sazama said, coming back to the greenhouse after going out to investigate the foreign sound. “I just saw her running back to the main house.”

    Gesi cursed under his breath. “This girl is going to drive me crazy. Rassa, I need you to manage her. Find a way to convince her about our plan. If you can get her help, it will be even better. The faster she realizes her husband is a liability, the better.”

    Rassa nodded. “I will convince her. Besides, I can also get her to believe she misheard you. Don’t worry about it.”

    “I’ll trust you with this,” Gesi said. “It’s hard enough with everything that’s going on.”

    “I’ll handle it,” Rassa promised.

    ***

    Naeri forgot the butter she was collecting from her mother. She ran out of her parents’ home and into her carriage and urged the driver to go back to the Maenaer residence. Her heart raced with cold fear as she tried to decipher what Rassa, Sazama, and her father were discussing.

    It sounded like an assassination attempt on the Prime Minister, sickening to imagine. She worried about her husband. Despite their endless cold war, Raithion was the father of her children. Her future and the children’s future depended on his well-being. So, a Prime Minister dead or poisoned in their home would utterly make their world end.

    Shaking her head, she was glad when the carriage came to a stop outside the main gate. She exited too fast and hurried up the steps to the front door, only to be met by a smiling Silveren.

    “Naeri, where did you go? I was looking for you. It’s already afternoon, Child. Your husband is in the main hall of your residence,” Silveren said, taking Naeri’s hand and guiding her into the house. “Why do you look so pale? Are you ill?”

    Naeri felt tears prick the backs of her eyes as Silveren stopped and pressed the back of her hand over Naeri’s forehead.

    “Mm, your temperature feels okay,” Silveren continued. “Come on, I think you should rest for a while, then find your husband. Try to mend what is broken. Slowly, okay? Don’t lose hope.”

    “Thank you, Mother,” Naeri said, her voice soft, her heart still pounding in her chest. It was a wonder that Silveren could not hear it. Silveren led her to the back exit of the main house. The door opened to a short path that led into the courtyard and the house Naeri lived in.

    Silveren let her proceed alone. Naeri took in the men hard at work on the perimeter walls in the distance. There were also two men on the roof, mending leaks she had not gotten to amid the multitude of tasks she had to perform.

    It felt nice to have someone else take up the repairs. Removing her overcoat, she stepped into the great room and paused when she saw Raithion sitting in the large armchair arranged for him, just as she had dreamed when she placed it there.

    How many times had she watched and waited, hoping he would come home and occupy the armchair? Now, seeing him sift through invoices and talk to Daron, paying invoices and signing household expense requests felt so right.

    Naeri could not stop the tears that filled her eyes. She had to tell Raithion what she had heard. Maybe it would bring them closer, perhaps… it would make up for all the wrongs she had done to her husband.

    ****

    After a marathon of repair work, Raithion sat in the armchair in his great room to authorize monthly repairs. It was his fault he had neglected the care of the residence, as the funds came from his personal accounts.

    “Daron, if there is any urgent problem with the house, send Sharian to the barracks or the Commandery Office. Don’t let it get to the point of disrepair,” Raithion said.

    “I understand,” Daron said as he watched Raithion set aside money for the invoice that would help the manor guards replenish arrows used on mounted bows on the perimeter walls from the imperial warehouse.

    “These are invoices from the tailor. The Commandery Princess had clothes made for the children,” Daron said.

    “Mm.” Raithion signed the invoice and set aside money for the expense. The amount was usual for clothes tailored for the people in the house. He just had never needed to make such a payment before.

    “I’ll excuse myself,” Daron said after a moment. “I’ll leave these invoices with you.” He placed the stack of five invoices on the stool next to Raithion’s chair.

    Raithion glanced up, wanting to ask why Daron was leaving, only to see Naeri coming to sit on the couch to the left of Raithion’s armchair. She looked nervous. She wore a beautiful pale blue dress with a fitted bodice and long silk skirts. Her blonde hair was tied in an intricate style, held together in a convoluted manner by pins.

    Naeri looked at him with worried brown eyes, and Raithion felt a punch in his gut, the kind he hated, as he wondered what plot she was spinning. It annoyed him that she could not be trusted.

    “My Lord,” Naeri started. “It’s good to see you home. It’s been a long time.”

    “It has been,” Raithion said, thinking it was not long enough.

    Every time he looked at Naeri, he could not help remembering the endless burning sensation of the poison she put in his drink at that party, or in the bathwater. He had endured an excruciating burning that could only be relieved by bedding her endlessly, caught in an inescapable lust that made him feel both pleasure and disgust. He closed his eyes and let out a small breath.

    “Is there something you need to tell me?” Raithion asked, as he forced his focus on the remaining invoices on the table in front of him.

    “I—” Naeri started, then paused when one of her attendants brought a kettle and two cups.

    The young lady was followed by Yulin, who glanced at Raithion with a shy, hopeful innocent smile before he leaned on his mother’s lap.

    The attendant left. Naeri, knowing Raithion would not drink tea she had poured, made herself a cup and kept the teapot closest to her.

    “Mom,” Yulin said. “I want tea.”

    Naeri gave Raithion a nervous glance, but she took the second cup and poured Yulin half a cup of the tea, then blew on it to make sure it was not too hot. Naeri placed it on the side for their son, then picked up her cup and took a few sips, as though to fortify herself.

    “My Lord, there is something I must tell you. I went to see my mother this morning and—” Naeri broke off, pressing her right hand to her stomach with a small frown. She shrugged and continued. “I know you don’t like to hear much about my family, but—”

    Yulin took his cup and sipped it, but then Naeri gasped and hit the cup their son held, spilling the tea on the floor.

    Raithion frowned as Naeri turned to him with wide eyes.

    “I—” Naeri started as she stood up, her hands pressed to her stomach, her expression twisting with pain. “I’m sorry.”

    Raithion got up as Naeri started to fall to the floor, as Yulin broke into painful cries.

    “Daron!” Raithion called out as he caught Naeri. He lifted her and carried her to one of the long couches in the great room, arranging a pillow under her head. He started to move away to get Yulin, but she gripped his right wrist.

    “Wait,” Naeri said, coughing, and Raithion frowned as he noticed the blood coloring her teeth. “I—I’m sorry for everything. I—I didn’t know. M-my father—”

    Naeri broke into a coughing fit just as Daron, Sharian, Aryn, and Sira entered the great room.

    “Lock down the manor,” Raithion ordered, but his voice sounded distant, as if it belonged to someone else. “Get a healer here, and, Daron, guard that tea kettle and the teacup with your life. Sharian, ride to the palace and get Volker to send the imperial coroner, Dain. He will know what to look for in the tea. Send for an imperial healer.”

    “Yes, Your Grace.” Sharian, Aryn, and Sira ran out of the room to make sure Raithion’s orders were followed. The healer who lived in the manor came running in, and Raithion moved away to give her space to check on Naeri.

    “Lord Raith,” Daron said, and Raithion turned to find him holding an unconscious Yulin.

    Raithion crossed the distance in three numb strides and gathered the boy from Daron’s arms. He frowned when he saw Yulin had blood on his lips too.

    Yulin’s weight was too light. His small hands were cool. A cold rush went through Raithion’s chest like water, shocking and blinding, filling him with helplessness. He laid Yulin on the couch next to the one with his mother and arranged him carefully. He smoothed his palm over the child’s dark hair, felt the slight dampness of sweat, the too-still breath. Something tore in him, low and unfamiliar, raw as ripped cloth.

    Raithion sighed and turned to see what the healer was doing by Naeri’s side.

    “Raithion,” Naeri’s whisper had him getting up. Raithion moved to the other side of the long couch and found Naeri watching for him with wide, bloodshot eyes.

    “Don’t panic, I’ve called for a healer from the palace. They will have an antidote,” Raithion said.

    Naeri let out a soft chuckle and shook her head, then motioned for him to lean closer. She took in a deep breath when Raithion bent down close to hear what she was saying.

    “I-it’s too late. S-save Yulin. Fi-ind R-Rassa,” Naeri’s voice faded.

    When he straightened, her gaze did not follow. The healer checked her, and Raithion frowned when, after a moment, she shook her head, indicating that his wife had passed. The room went suddenly quiet, except for Yulin’s unsteady breath.

    ****

    The gates of the Maenaer Manor were locked and sealed. No one inside the manor grounds could leave. The imperial healer arrived first and rechecked Naeri, confirming that she was already dead. She had been killed by the poison in the tea she had drunk.

    Silveren ran into Raithion’s house in a panic and stared at Naeri, who was still lying on the long couch. The healers were now focused on Yulin, who lay near his mother, alive but unconscious. The two healers were trying to identify the poison used in order to give the right antidote. Sharian had yet to arrive with Dain.

    “Who could have done this?” Silveren asked in shock. “She was fine when she walked in earlier. How could this happen? Raith?”

    “The manor is locked down. We’ll find out soon,” Raithion said, his voice low. Inside he felt hollowed out, as if something had scooped him clean. “She wanted to tell me something, something about her father. Then she drank the tea and fell to the ground. It was too fast. She asked me to find someone named Rassa. Who is that?”

    “Her closest attendant,” Silveren said.

    “Why did she leave this morning?” Raithion asked.

    Silveren shook her head. “I give her freedom to live her life. She’s free to visit her maternal home as she wills.” Silveren sighed. “She heard you were coming home and probably wanted to get butter. Naeri claims… claimed the butter from her family brought out the mint toffee best.”

    “Did she bring any butter?” Raithion asked.

    Silveren shook her head. “I don’t know. We’ll have to check with the main kitchen.”

    Raithion nodded and turned to face the front door, where there was a commotion. Sharian had returned with Dain, the imperial coroner. Kailu and Haedor followed them in. They all wore the same shocked expressions when they saw Naeri lying on the long couch.

    Dain did not hesitate. Taking the kettle from Daron, he got to work immediately. Aryn and Sira brought him any utensils he asked for, and within minutes he poured the tea into a large bowl and began investigating the dregs.

    “There are seeds here,” Dain said, lifting one with a small pin. “They look like they are from the devil’s trumpet. Use activated charcoal on the boy.”

    The imperial healer mixed a vial of activated charcoal into a bowl, and with Aryn’s help they got Yulin to swallow most of it. The child coughed and swallowed, limp and obedient.

    “The rest will need time,” Dain said. “Whoever made this poison has layered different herbs.”

    “Is Yulin safe?” Silveren asked, moving to perch on the edge of the long couch where Yulin was.

    “We’ll have to watch over him and treat his symptoms as they come, for now,” the imperial healer said.

    Silveren let out a soft cry and reached for Yulin’s hand, holding it tight.

    Raithion stepped to Naeri’s couch and looked down. Her eyes were closed. Blood had dried at the corner of her mouth. The cage of pins held her hair perfectly. He placed her hands over her stomach and touched the orange jade ring on her left hand. He straightened her skirts, then stepped back, helpless, at a loss for what else a man should do for the wife he had not learned how to forgive and now would never see again.

    A knot formed in his chest. He did not know whether it was grief or guilt. Perhaps both. He had stayed away. He told himself he was protecting what remained of his self-respect. Now, what did that self-respect stand for?

    Raithion turned to Yulin. The boy’s lashes trembled against his cheeks. Raithion felt the pain sharpen, clean and unbearable. Suddenly the four-year-old boy was not an heir described on paper, not the consequence of a crime, but a breathing child who carried his blood.

    “Raith,” Silveren said softly. “We should begin to plan a funeral.”

    Raithion nodded and looked to Daron. “Treat her funeral as befits the lady of the manor. Give her all the rights of the Commandery Princess. Report it to the palace.”

    Daron bowed and hurried away.

    Raithion lifted Yulin. The boy’s weight settled against his chest. Too light. Too warm at the forehead, too-cold tiny hands.

    “I will take him to his room,” Raithion said. “Imperial Healer, I hope you can find a cure soon. Aryn and Sira will make sure you have everything you need.”

    “Thank you, Your Highness,” the imperial healer said.

    Raithion glanced at Kailu and Haedor. “Find the assassin. Naeri mentioned Rassa. Find her and discover what’s going on.”

    He held his son closer, feeling the small thud of Yulin’s heart against his own, and carried him upstairs.

    ****

    <<Previous | Blades of Ashes TOC | Next>>

  • A Thousand Years of Hope Ch 25

    Dante lay on the bed where Tani had left him. Kinon stood on the right side of the bed, while Amu stood on the left. Sahdrina stood at the foot of the bed. Together, they held up a barrier to keep the fire magik from leaking from Dante, flooding the room, and spilling into the rest of the house. Cale sat in an armchair by the door, his gaze fixed on Dante.

    “When do you think he’ll wake up?” Cale asked.

    “When nature is done with him,” Kinon said softly. “His fire magik has grown stronger. Unless he wakes up and consciously controls his power, we’re stuck here. Holding this barrier long enough will protect his family, this house, and the vineyard.”

    “Is he that dangerous?” Cale asked.

    “His fire magik is born from an immortal lord’s blood,” Kinon said with a faint chuckle. “It’s burning blue. If you want to test it, step inside this barrier we’re making. Haven’t you noticed it’s taking three ekhos to keep it in check?”

    “Better you than me,” Cale said. “How do you even know how to create this barrier? Have you dealt with this before?”

    He was the only one who didn’t have a barrier of his own in place. His destructive power would only make a worst-case scenario even worse.

    “We’ve all raised young ekhos,” Sahdrina said with a grin. “Amu had Tani, who needed an entire island to hide his affinity with wild animals. His ability to make everything grow was challenging to manage in a mortal world.”

    “I have young ekhos with fire magik working in my vineyards,” Kinon said. “They’ve burned down acres of vines when they lose control.”

    “Tani is something else,” Cale said with a sigh. “He created a fledgling fire ekho, then left us to clean up.”

    “He didn’t leave of his own accord,” Sahdrina said, weaving a thicker barrier by the door as a fresh surge of fire magik rolled off Dante in a heated tide. “The Palladium Gates pulled him back to assess his decision to bond with the fire warlock.”

    “Is there any way to know if Tani is okay?” Amu asked, concern etched in his features.

    “The mortal would have died if the Gates had rejected Lord Tani’s choice,” Sahdrina said. “Since Dante’s fire is causing us so much trouble, forcing us to control his excess power, we can assume Lord Tani is well in the ekho realm.”

    “Just how well depends on the Palladium Gates’ assessment,” Cale guessed.

    “Yes,” Sahdrina said.

    Kinon sighed and studied Dante, who was shifting his hands across the bed as though searching for someone.

    “Heads up,” Kinon warned. “That first moment out of a deep sleep will flood this room with his power. Cale, take Dante’s family out of the house.”

    Cale rose, casting one last glance at Dante’s restless movements, then left the room. He truly hoped Dante would be worth everything Tani had sacrificed for so long. In the living area, he moved over to Nora.

    “Dante is about to wake,” Cale told her. “I need you all to get out of the house.”

    “Why?” Christophe asked. “Why won’t you tell us what’s going on with him?”

    “What’s going on,” Cale said as Nora stood, and he began guiding her to the door—Landi and Christophe trailing closely because he had Nora with him, “is that Tani saved his life and tripled his power. That little maniac really put everything on the line for your son.”

    “Where is Tani?” Nora asked as they headed downstairs toward the front door. They were just stepping out when a suffocating heat blasted down from Dante’s room. Cale scooped Nora up and teleported to the driveway, while Landi and Christophe sprinted after them.

    “What is that?” Christophe demanded when they caught up, turning to look at Artri House. It was now enclosed in a shimmering shield.

    “Your son’s power at work,” Cale said. “We should be grateful the house isn’t on fire. Looks like Dante is awake.”

    ****

    Dante sat upright in his bed, scanning the room for Tani. Panic set in when he realized Tani was nowhere to be found. Instead, Kinon, Amu, and a woman he didn’t recognize stood around his bed.

    “What’s going on?” Dante asked. “Where’s Tani?”

    “Before we answer, can you control your magik?” Kinon asked, gesturing to the shimmering barrier each of them wore for protection against the blue fire aura radiating throughout the house.

    Dante’s eyes widened. He hadn’t lost control like this since childhood, when he’d accidentally burned his mother’s vines. Closing his eyes, he recognized the magnitude of the fire magik coursing through his veins. It felt as though the well of his power had deepened a thousandfold, an endless chasm inside him. Drawing in a steadying breath, he concentrated on the wards he typically used to rein in his power. To his astonishment, the roaring fire responded with surprising ease. In a matter of moments, he forced the explosive force back under control.

    A collective sigh of relief filled the bedroom as he opened his eyes.

    “Very good,” Kinon said, clearly impressed. “I was worried we’d need more time to teach you restraint.”

    “I had tough instructors,” Dante replied, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He tried to stand but moved faster than expected, then frowned as he sank back onto the edge of the mattress. “What happened? Where is Tani? There’s something I need to do…”

    Kinon pulled a chair closer, meeting Dante’s gaze. “Tani did everything to save you,” he said. “The result of his efforts is more complicated than any of us expected.”

    “Why complicated? Is he all right? Where is he?” Dante demanded.

    “Stay calm,” Kinon said, resting a hand on Dante’s right arm. A golden pattern of lines wove up from Dante’s wrist to the center of his chest. “Tani saved you through your bond. He made you a hybrid fire ekho. Then, when the transformation finished, the Palladium Gates pulled him back to our realm.”

    “So,” Dante said, rising to his feet, “Tani isn’t here?”

    “He’s in the Ekho Realm,” Amu confirmed.

    “I’ll go to him,” Dante said without hesitation. He stepped around Kinon’s chair, entered his closet for a T-shirt and a light jacket, then ran a hand through his hair in frustration. Emerging, he found the three ekhos watching him. “What?”

    “You don’t think you need time to adjust to your new—” Amu began.

    “I need to find Tani,” Dante cut in, zipping up his jacket. He turned to Kinon and the woman—Sahdrina—his expression resolute. “How do I get to him?”

    “Um—” Kinon started.

    “You have to go through the Palladium Gates,” Sahdrina said. “If you don’t have enough power to reach the other side, the Gates will lock you out. Are you sure you want to try?”

    “I won’t try,” Dante said, voice firm. “I’ll succeed. Take me to him.”

    “Dante—” Amu began, hoping to calm him, but the memory of Tani risking everything for him ignited Dante’s determination.

    “Take. Me. To. Him,” Dante repeated, his aura pressing in on those around him.

    Kinon and Amu exchanged weary looks, while Sahdrina stepped forward and took Dante’s right hand.

    “Let’s go,” she said, then teleported them to the Palladium Gates. Kinon and Amu arrived moments later, and Dante found himself staring at a pair of towering silver-white Gates.

    “Lord Tani is beyond these Gates,” Sahdrina explained. “Once you enter, you will face three similar gates. Each one opens once you’ve crossed the stretch leading up to it. The power inside whittles you down to your essence, your intentions, your true self. Don’t present ambiguous intentions. The gates will transport you to the Ekho Realm if you can withstand the raw power inside. Otherwise, you’ll end up back here—locked out. Do you understand?”

    Dante nodded. He felt the endless well of fire in his chest surge at the challenge. He understood the stakes. His entire being bristled with resolve.

    “Good luck,” Sahdrina said quietly, stepping aside so he could face the colossal Gates head-on.

    Dante glanced at Amu, then at Kinon, before fixing his attention on the Gates that barred him from Tani. Determination fueled every breath he took.

    He drew in a steadying breath and entered the silver-white Palladium Gates. They brimmed with immense power designed to keep mortals out. Only those with Ekho blood could hope to cross, and even then, only with colossal strength. Dante clenched his fists and stepped forward, feeling the swirling currents of energy threaten to tear him apart. Each step felt heavy, the power pressing against his very being, as though to strip him down—skin, flesh, to bone.

    Still, he kept going, step by step, each footfall heavier than the last. He reached for the bottomless well of fire magik inside him to bolster his strength, and gradually the steps grew easier. He filled his mind with Tani’s sweet confession.

    “I’ve never regretted loving you. Every second I’ve spent with you has been the brightest adventure of my life,” Tani had said. “You’ve been my favorite person for a thousand years, and you always will be. I love you, Dante Arturo.”

    Dante inhaled a calming breath and pressed on toward the second gate. The moment he stepped through, it slid closed behind him, revealing another stretching path filled with a crushing force of power. He intensified his fire magik, meeting that force with his own, refusing to be bullied. He pushed forward, step by step, every fiber of his being focused on reaching Tani.

    The suffocating power slammed against him, forcing Dante to draw on the fire magik reserves Tani’s immortal blood had awakened. Though the Gates fought him, he refused to yield, clinging to his love for Tani—his desire for a life together, his need to have Tani with him every day, every hour. When he reached the midpoint, the third gate slid open, and he stepped into a stifling pocket of potent power. This must be where the divide between realms began. It was so difficult to step forward that he fell on the ground twice, unable to get up. When he finally got on his feet, it took everything to resist collapsing again.

    Dante breathed in and out, centering himself. He took a single step, and for a moment, he felt weightless before the crushing power surged again, whittling him down to his essence. Suddenly, breathing got easier, and Dante was left with a burning resolve to reach the other side—to see Tani, to hold him, to kiss him. He reached the fourth door in an instant, his magik propelling him with a mere thought, and as the doors opened, he was startled to find himself stark naked. His mortal clothes were gone. But he had done it. He had entered the Ekho Realm.

    Dante smiled widely, alive with excitement and joy.

    “You’ll need these,” Sahdrina said from behind him as she handed him a white tunic with gold embroidery at the hems, a pair of trousers, and sandals. “You have nothing from the Ekho Realm, which is why you appear with nothing. Bare, in your true essence.”

    Dante pulled on the tunic and trousers swiftly and took the sandals from her.

    “Congratulations,” Sahdrina said. “You’re the first of your kind to enter this realm.”

    Dante’s eyes widened, and she smiled. “Others are born with Ekho blood. You’re the first to be made. Lord Tani has broken barriers in the realm. It’s a historic first.”

    Tani. Dante’s heart stuttered. “How do I get to him now?”

    Sahdrina took his arm and guided him down steep steps to a grassy patch. Beyond the grass stretched an endless expanse of water; Dante could not tell whether it was a lake or an ocean. It felt too vast. When they reached the grass, the Gates opened, and Amu and Kinon stepped out—looking drastically different from how Dante remembered them in the mortal realm. Amu’s irises had turned into slits, reminiscent of a fox’s eyes, and his red hair was longer. He wore a green tunic, black trousers tucked into black boots, and a dark green overcoat with gold chevrons on the sleeves. He looked majestic. Kinon, beside him, wore dark trousers and a red sleeveless tunic, his feet clad in sandals. Heavy gold cuffs decorated his arms. Dante supposed they were purely ornamental, unlike the ones Tani had worn before.

    “He’s impatient about meeting Lord Tani,” Sahdrina said with a small smile. “Lord Kinon, will you reach out to Immortal Lord Sunu?”

    “No need,” came a voice from behind Dante. He turned to find Tani’s father. Sunu looked stronger somehow. He wore a long white tunic open at the chest, with subtle gold edging around the sleeves, hem, and neck. His loose-fitting trousers were trimmed with gold embroidery near the ankles. The broad, ornate gold sash around his waist matched the thick gold armbands on his forearms, and his white open-toed sandals were strapped with gold accents. Each step he took turned the grass greener, and Dante imagined flowers springing up behind him.

    “You’ve come,” Sunu said upon reaching Dante. He extended his right hand in greeting, and Dante moved to shake it—but Sunu gripped his forearm instead. Dante did the same, recognizing it as a warrior’s handshake. He met Sunu’s gaze and smiled when Sunu grinned.

    “I welcome you to the Ekho Realm and bless your bond with my son, Tani. May you share many beautiful experiences.”

    “Thank you,” Dante said, looking over Sunu’s shoulder. “May I see Tani now?”

    “Certainly,” Sunu said, still holding Dante’s arm as he turned to Kinon, Amu, and Sahdrina. “Call the Septum to a gathering. There are changes to be made.”

    “I’ll arrange it, Lord Sunu,” Kinon said.

    “I’ll be in the Zona Forest residence,” Sunu said. “Let the gathering happen there.”

    “Right away,” Kinon said, and departed, followed by Sahdrina.

    “Amu,” Sunu said, offering his left hand. “I’ll take you to your sister. She’s been taking care of Tani.”

    “All right,” Amu replied, taking Sunu’s left hand. In a breathtaking moment, Sunu transported them to a house deep in a forest.

    So much light streamed into the house that at first Dante mistook the wide windows for empty openings. It felt like a jungle paradise, and Dante let go of Sunu’s arm, taking in the main hall with awe.

    “Tani is in the master room on the second floor,” Sunu said, pointing to a set of stone stairs. Dante didn’t wait for more prompting. He took the steps two at a time and, upon reaching the second floor, raced toward an open door where he heard a woman humming a beautiful, lilting tune.

    He burst into the room at top speed, startling the red-haired woman perched on the right side of a large bed. She stopped humming and glanced over, still holding Tani’s right hand. A slight frown appeared on her forehead before it vanished, replaced by a radiant grin.

    “Dante!” she said, breathless with excitement. “You made it!”

    “Yes,” Dante said, deciding this must be Anit—Tani’s mother. Her red hair gave her away.

    “Come, hurry,” she beckoned, standing as he reached the bed. “Sit, touch him. It will wake him from the endless sleep.”

    “What’s wrong with him?” Dante asked, his gaze roaming over Tani lying quietly on the bed. He looked so handsome that Dante scooted closer and leaned over him, pressing a kiss to his forehead. Heart thundering, he rained soft kisses across Tani’s face, ending with a tender brush against his lips.

    “Baby?” Dante murmured against Tani’s mouth.

    Dante, Tani’s defeated voice filled his mind, and Dante buried his face into Tani’s shoulder. I left you in the mortal realm. I’m sorry.

    Open your eyes, Dante responded in kind, thrilled to discover he could speak with Tani this way. Wake up! I crossed the Palladium Gates to find you. What are you doing sleeping here?

    The wave of happiness that flooded Tani was immediate, flowing into Dante so vividly that tears gathered in his eyes. Tani’s joy at the thought of seeing him again was overwhelming. Dante sat up, smiling wide when Tani’s eyelids fluttered open.

    “Wake up,” Dante said, cupping Tani’s cheek. “Don’t you miss—?”

    Tani sat up and wrapped his arms around Dante, a shocked, delighted gasp escaping him.

    Anit laughed and clapped her hands, practically bouncing on her feet.

    Dante held Tani close, burying his face in Tani’s hair, relief coursing through him in waves. No words were necessary. They had survived an ordeal beyond description.

    Tani trembled with joy, and Anit patted his shoulder, then squeezed Dante’s arm, nodding in quiet approval.

    “I love you,” Dante whispered in Tani’s ear, unwilling to let him go.

    “I love you, too,” Tani replied.

    ****

    Dante held Tani for a moment longer before he leaned back to take him in. He smiled when he noticed Tani’s hair—it had grown quite a bit, no longer trimmed to the style Hera had once insisted on. The red-brown locks, now at shoulder length, were tipped in white. Dante frowned slightly as he reached out to touch those pale edges.

    “Your hair,” he began.

    Tani blushed and lifted a hand to his hair with a small shrug. “Yeah, the gates put everything back the way they remember from my first crossing. I had shoulder-length hair when I left after the trial, so now it’s like this.”

    “I love it.” Dante kissed his cheek, still touching the white ends. He smiled. “Will you turn into a white-haired fox?”

    Tani grinned and shifted on the bed, folding his legs beneath him. Dante moved behind Tani so he could lean against him.

    “In our realm, white hair is envied,” Tani said. “White hair means power—like, destroy-a-planet kind of power. Ekhos strive to gain white hair.”

    Dante chuckled. “Are you trying to tell me I should be proud that my boyfriend is powerful now?”

    Tani turned to look at him. “I feel your love warming my heart. Our bond pulses with your fire magik. Your breath on my skin sets me aflame. At this point, can you really call me your boyfriend?”

    “What should I call you?” Dante asked softly.

    “You are my bondmate,” Tani said. “We are bonded for the rest of our lives. Our fates are tied together for an endless eternity. You are my beloved.”

    “Then…” Dante leaned in to whisper in Tani’s right ear. “In my world, you are my husband. Will you marry me, Tani Ryuzo?”

    Tani kissed Dante’s left cheek, then his right, before claiming his lips with a soft press. “Yes.”

    Dante smiled and pulled Tani into his arms, holding him close. He noticed Anit and Amu standing by the windows, talking quietly, and giving them space. Dante was simply grateful to hold Tani, knowing they now had many days ahead of them, free from the threat of separation.

    He eased back onto the plush pillows with Tani resting against his chest, Tani’s face buried in his shoulder, and Dante’s arms wrapped tight around him.

    “I was so scared I wouldn’t be able to cross the Palladium Gates,” Dante said. “I got about halfway in, and the pressure was overwhelming. I—” He stopped himself and traced Tani’s jaw with his index finger. “I thought about you while I was crossing, and suddenly it got easier. Will it always be like that?”

    “No,” Tani said, closing his eyes as he clasped Dante’s wrist. “The first time is the hardest. From now on, the gates will recognize that you belong in the Ekho Realm. Crossing will get easier.”

    “That’s good news,” Dante said. “I want to take you back to Artri House and have a wedding there. I want everyone to know you’re mine, too. I want to see Hera and Deniz visiting the vineyard, and I want us to travel here so I can learn more about this realm. Mostly, I want to spend time with you.”

    Tani chuckled and leaned back to see Dante’s face. “I love all these wants.”

    “So,” Dante said after a moment, “what does it mean to be a hybrid fire ekho?”

    “It means whatever you want it to mean,” Tani replied. “You are part of Kinon’s bloodline, so you still have your fire magik. You can cross the Palladium Gates whenever you like. Best of all,”—Tani’s voice softened— “we’ll be together, and time is no longer my greatest enemy. I have only one thing to say in reply to your many fascinating wants.”

    “What’s that?” Dante asked, shifting so he could look into Tani’s eyes.

    “I want to be with you,” Tani said simply.

    Dante grinned and leaned down to kiss him, relief vibrating through his entire being.

    ***

    “The Fox Clan must face change,” Amu said after listening to Anit’s account of Zal and Tara’s manipulations. “I knew Zal existed, but I never imagined our big brother would go to such lengths to disrupt governance.”

    “He thinks we’re squandering the power our bloodline has gathered,” Anit said with a small smile. “I suppose peaceful times do breed improbable villains. Nela Bao is busy cleaning up the Anael Sentinel Branch. Aero, the hybrid child with a sister in the mortal realm, is being taken to the Dark Fort by Bao Sentinels. He claims our court mistreated his family.”

    “It isn’t our fault the Dragon Clan dislikes mixed blood,” Amu said. “They’re the ones who treat their hybrid children worse than all the other clans. I heard a rumor that Aero and his sister were born in the mortal realm. Their mother chose to enter the afterlife when their father returned to the Dragon Clan’s lands. Aero followed him, but Selene couldn’t cross the Palladium Gates. None of that is the Fox Clan’s doing.”

    “Perhaps,” Anit said with a sigh. “Either way, Aero inflicted terrible pain on my son to avenge his own suffering, which is why he’s going to the Dark Fort.”

    Anit glanced at Dante and Tani, who were whispering to each other on the bed. She smiled.

    “At least there’s happiness at the end of this trial,” Anit said. “Tani has accomplished what he set out to prove, and his reward is here. My son stood by his convictions. He inspires me to do the same.”

    “What happens now?” Amu asked.

    “We live, Amu,” Anit said softly. “We do all the things we dreamed of before the calamity began.”

    “Does that include returning to Lord Sunu?” Amu asked. “You’ve been angry with him for so long. Can you forgive him for letting you leave?”

    Anit studied Tani and Dante for a silent moment, then turned to the scenery beyond the windows. Sunu and Kinon had spared no effort in restoring and nurturing the Zona Forest. The trees shimmered with healthy leaves, and the water was clear and sweet-scented. It was a truly peaceful place.

    “I’ll let it run its course,” Anit said finally. She glanced at her brother. “Amu, thank you for looking after my son all this time.”

    “He’s my son, too,” Amu said.

    “Then I hope you’ll bring me a son to look after one of these days,” Anit teased with a grin.

    Amu chuckled and clasped his hands behind his back, turning to admire the view as well.

    Anit looked back at Tani, noticing the way Dante kept touching the white tips of his hair. Without thinking, she reached out to Sunu across a bond she had ignored for decades.

    Our son’s power has manifested, she said silently. The relief flooding from Sunu at the sound of her voice was overwhelming. It warmed her from within.

    How has it manifested? he asked.

    His hair is turning silver at the ends, Anit replied.

    Then the amulet will seek a new owner.

    Will you fight it? Anit pictured the round, heavy amulet Sunu wore on a chain.

    No. It’s time to change this realm’s perspective. We must evolve.

    All right, Anit said, her heart pounding.

    It’s good to hear you like this, Sunu said, sending a surge of warmth through their neglected bond. I’ve missed you, Anit.

    Heat rose in Anit’s cheeks. Before she could respond, Sunu’s voice resumed.

    I’ll relinquish the amulet now. Guide him to accept it.

    She had no time to ask what he meant. A soft gasp came from Tani, and she turned to see him and Dante on the bed. Dante sat behind Tani, arms wrapped around his waist, while Tani stared at a glowing circle of light hovering above them.

    “What is it?” Dante asked, eyeing the shimmering amulet.

    “Your father’s amulet,” Amu said, taking Anit’s hand as they moved closer. “He must have relinquished it so it could seek a more powerful owner.”

    “What?” Tani breathed as a beam of light from the amulet pierced into his heart. His right hand shot out to grasp it, his back arching. Dante’s grip around his torso held him steady.

    Power surged around them as the amulet pulled Tani’s energy inward, almost as if it were remaking itself. A minute later, the light faded. The amulet, now dull and motionless, lay in Tani’s palm with a long gold chain hanging from it.

    Tani looked at it for a breath before turning to his mother. “What does this mean?”

    “It means the Ekho Realm acknowledges the most powerful ekho in each generation,” Anit said. “You’re Sunu’s heir.”

    “I’m not ready for this.” Tani lifted the chain and let the amulet dangle. “I barely escaped one trial—I’m not jumping into another.”

    “I don’t blame you for seeing leadership as another cage,” Anit said gently. “But consider that your trial prepared you for what’s ahead. In any case, you don’t have to take on any responsibilities right now. You’re young, and there’s so much to look forward to. I’ll share a secret.”

    “What secret?” Tani asked, eyeing the amulet.

    “Tell your father you want him to keep his position,” Anit said. “Say you’re not ready to assume responsibilities yet. He’ll support you. I know because we’re doing the same thing for the Fox Clan. I’ll clean up the Inter Clan Court, make sure it’s running smoothly, and leave everything prepared for when you’re ready.”

    “Isn’t this just a ploy to pull me back here to do your jobs?” Tani asked, sounding a bit resentful.

    “What can I say? You’re our only child,” Anit said with a laugh.

    Tani sighed just as the amulet vibrated on his palm. He frowned and looked at Amu and Anit. “Something’s happening downstairs. I feel a surge of power filling the house.”

    “Your father has called the Septum,” Anit explained.

    “Your trial is officially over,” Amu added with a smile. “Your beloved’s determination in crossing the Palladium Gates was inspiring. He helped resolve any concerns the Septum had. You’re lucky, Tani, to have someone so devoted to you.”

    Tani smiled and started to turn to Dante, but Dante’s head sank onto Tani’s right shoulder, and he released a quiet snore—fast asleep.

    Tani grinned. “I guess crossing wore him out.”

    “I suppose,” Anit said with a nod. “Let him rest. You have time now. Let’s get you dressed. You might need to meet the Septum for a few minutes.”

    “Mm.” Tani shifted, carefully settling Dante on the bed so he could sleep comfortably. He leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to Dante’s lips, smiling when Dante murmured his name and kept hold of his hand.

    Tani brushed back Dante’s hair, pausing when he saw the gold Elderwood leaves on Dante’s right ear—four shining studs, half Elderwood, half flame. As he touched those studs, relief and gratitude swept through him. He was thankful, above all, that Dante was here with him.

    ***

    Sunu stood in the living area of Tani’s house in the Zona Forest, gazing outside with a pensive look. He could feel the stares of his fellow Septum members behind him. Most of all, the wave of happiness emanating from the master bedroom upstairs was hard to ignore. Dante and Tani were reunited, clinging to each other, while Amu and Anit reveled in their joy. Sunu smiled.

    “Lord Sunu,” Mizian said, “why did you call the council?”

    “My son’s trial has ended,” Sunu said, clasping his hands behind his back. “The cuffs on his wrists are gone, and he has resolved the question the Septum gave him. We should have given him time back then.”

    “Are you regretting a decision?” Eren asked, surprise in her voice.

    “Perhaps,” Sunu said. “I wouldn’t call it regret, but a painful lesson. Tani’s trial was mine, too. Watching him go through this has been very difficult.”

    Silence filled the room until Kinon spoke.

    “I would like to update the Septum on recent events in the Inter Clan Court,” Kinon said, then began a detailed account of Zal’s incident and Anit’s decision. “Anit’s sentinels are compiling the details of Zal’s case. There are accomplices to contend with, such as Aero of the Dragon Clan, who has been sentenced to the Dark Fort. Meanwhile, Lua Wadi will serve his sentence with Sahdrina.”

    “Will Lady Izuna seek compensation from the Septum?” Mizian asked. “None of us could have imagined that this would happen to her son—or her—when we decided to send Lord Tani to that trial.”

    “I wouldn’t blame her if she wanted to,” Eren said, her tone full of sorrow.

    “The Fox Goddess is not irrational,” Rianon said. “She won’t retaliate over a genuine decision the Septum made under the initial circumstances of our judgment. By the Ekho Realm’s rules, we asked Lord Tani to prove his reasoning. He went to the mortal realm of his own volition. The Septum agreed to meet all his terms. The judgment was sound.”

    “There is no argument on this truth, Rianon,” said Helia, the fertility goddess. “However, we, as a governing council, must consider that the Septum’s rigid rules and doctrines regarding inter-clan relationships—specifically between the Immortal Clan and the Fox Clan—have negatively impacted Lady Izuna and Lord Sunu’s relationship. Our initial judgment also disregarded Lord Tani’s feelings and his right to choose whom he loves.”

    “I decided during Tani’s trial to interfere because of Lady Helia’s theory,” Kinon said. “Lord Tani’s calamity had gone on far too long, and outside forces were meddling. I manipulated Dante into the Arturo bloodline to even the odds. The fact that I had to do so proved there was something wrong. Yet, aside from that single intervention, I made no further effort because of our strict rules. I just…didn’t think to.”

    They all paused in thought before Cale pushed away from the wall.

    “Having just left Dante’s family in distress over their missing son and accompanied Lord Tani through his calamity, I dare say I understand Lady Anit’s hostility toward the Septum,” Cale said. “Our rules may be set in stone, but I believe they deserve addendums. Not every situation is black and white, and none of us could have accurately judged Lord Tani’s intentions toward Dante.”

    “I would defend the Septum,” Sunu said. “The decision at the time was made based on what we understood as a governing body.”

    “Fair enough,” Cale said with a nod. “But what happens now that he’s proved his love? I’d say Lord Tani has transcended that love. What happens next?”

    “Perhaps we need to review our rigid stance,” Mizian said after a long pause.

    “Having matchmade souls from different clans who face endless trials, I back this thought,” Helia said with an approving nod.

    “I would suggest we keep the rules as they are,” Eren said, drawing a frown from Cale. She smiled. “However, we should write an addendum to manage any deviations from our rigid stance. After all, a clear break from our current rules may lead to the abuse of an ekho’s gifts. Lord Cale, your Dark Fort could become overrun with those who choose to cause harm in the name of love.”

    “Perhaps,” Cale said with a hesitant nod.

    “Then,” Rianon said, eyeing the hallway where Anit stood, “it looks like the Septum’s rule will be evolving.”

    “What a grand gesture,” Anit said as she walked slowly to join them. “I’m not here to place blame. There have been mistakes all around—mine more than others. However, as head of the Inter Clan Court, I believe it is my duty to note the following. The Septum’s errors are rooted in the council’s rigid adherence to tradition, the failure to consider individual circumstances and emotions, and an inability to foresee or address the broader consequences of your judgments. I don’t claim to be any better at those things, but there should be due diligence in special cases.”

    “Does your offered opinion mean you will consider returning to the council?” Kinon asked.

    Anit looked around the room, meeting each person’s gaze, then smiled when her eyes settled on Sunu. “I’ll leave the Fox Clan’s decisions to the new Immortal Lord. He is of the blood and powerful enough to suppress my own. I will adhere to his wishes. The Fox Clan is now under his purview.”

    Sunu chuckled and stepped into the informal circle his council members had formed.

    “I also leave the Immortal Clan’s decisions to the new Immortal Lord. He is of the blood and powerful enough to use my power to create a hybrid ekho. I will adhere to his wishes. The Immortal Clan is now under his purview.”

    “Lord Sunu,” Mizian said, his eyes widening in surprise.

    A small movement behind Anit caught Sunu’s attention. Anit shifted to her right, revealing Tani standing by the staircase. His hair was longer now, thanks to his growing power. The red-brown strands fell to his shoulders and were slowly turning white, as though erasing the last remnant of his childhood hair color. The longer his hair grew, the faster his power manifested its traits. In time, Sunu knew Tani’s hair would turn completely white, and he would be at full power, stronger than him.

    Tani wore a deep blue tunic with vivid gold embroidery on the short sleeves and around the collar’s opening, wide dark trousers, and no shoes. A broad gold belt circled his waist, and an amulet hung from it—an amulet they all recognized, because Sunu had worn it for ages.

    The amulet always shifted to the most powerful being in the Ekho Realm whenever there was a significant change in power. Seeing it on Tani’s belt confirmed that Sunu Ryuzo had acknowledged this change and allowed it without challenge.

    The Septum, as one, turned to Tani. They raised their right palms, manifesting their powers, then directed those energies into the amulet to affirm the shift in allegiance. It was telling that Sunu, Cale, and Anit followed suit, sending their own power into the amulet on Tani’s belt.

    As the mingled rays of power met and were absorbed by the amulet, a golden light filled the room, revealing the Ekho Realm’s creator. She appeared in the form of a woman with white hair, dressed in pristine emerald robes.

    “The age of a hybrid born of the Immortal Lord and the Fox Goddess begins. Tani Ryuzo, you shall be the Realm’s Emperor—born of two powerful beings, raised by the mortal realm. I await seeing how vibrantly your era will bloom. Be blessed.”

    When the light faded, the room fell into silence until Tani cleared his throat, drawing his father’s attention.

    “Dad, I’m not keen on doing your job for the time being,” Tani said. “Can you fill in? I still have things to do in the mortal realm. I want to spend time with Dante’s family—and mine. I’m not ready.”

    Sunu smiled and drew Tani into a tight hug. “Your mortal family is beautiful, and I’m glad you get to be with them now. But don’t forget, Anit and I are your family, too. Make sure to visit us often.”

    Tani exhaled and wrapped his arms around Sunu before burying his face in his father’s shoulder. They held each other for a moment, then Sunu stepped back. Anit moved in front of Tani, and they regarded each other cautiously. She reached out to touch Tani’s white hair, her fingers moving over the pale strands in a mix of awe and concern.

    Tani started to speak, but Anit spoke first.

    “I’ll clean up the Inter Clan Court for you,” Anit said. “It’s the least I can do, after all that has happened. I’ll discuss major decisions regarding the clan with you. Nela Bao will seek your counsel in the mortal realm whenever she needs it.”

    Tani swallowed hard and met her gaze. “Mom,” he said after a moment. “Don’t punish Dad any longer. I’m sure he misses you. He hasn’t stopped staring at you since you walked in.”

    Sunu coughed while the rest of the Septum chuckled. Anit blushed and gave Tani’s hair a playful tug, making him frown. She stopped at once, then leaned in to kiss his cheek.

    “Go with your Dante,” Anit said. “We’ll look after the realm.”

    “Hm,” Tani said, grinning as Anit let go of him. He stepped back and winked at Cale before addressing Anit and Sunu. “Dad, Mom, you owe me a sibling after all this. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if you blessed this realm with another descendant? He can share in the governance. I can’t wait to be a brother.”

    He vanished from the living area, and Sunu tried to hide his wide smile when Anit turned to glare at him.

    “Who’s interested in having children with you?” she demanded, scowling. Then she pointed at Helia. “Don’t get any ideas from Tani’s comment. We’ve already done a perfect job of screwing up parenting our only son. We don’t need more trouble.”

    “Oh,” Helia said. She gave Sunu a brief nod and disappeared in a glittering shimmer, accompanied by a delighted chuckle.

    “Lord Tani is so entertaining,” Mizian said. “I’m sure I’ll love his era as the Elderwood master. Call me if you need anything, Lord Sunu. Lady Eren, we’ll leave writing the addendums to you.”

    He departed in a wide circle of wind.

    “He’s always like that,” Rianon said, shaking her head. “I’ll help with anything you need—just don’t ask me to do the legwork on the exceptions.”

    “Mm,” Eren said. “I know. I’ll find you when I’m ready to present a semblance of the new rules.”

    Rianon glanced at Cale, then at Sunu and Anit. “It’s been an entertaining time. Your house never disappoints with interesting episodes. I look forward to the next one.”

    She waved and shimmered away in a cloud of water droplets.

    “Well,” Kinon said, clapping his hands. “I’ve had enough fun to last me a few years. Lord Sunu, do call if you need anything. I’m off to tend my vines—I’ve neglected them too long. I’ll send a package of my best wine to the new emperor.”

    “I’m sure he’ll love it,” Sunu said as Kinon disappeared in a cloud of yellow fire.

    Suddenly, only Cale, Anit, and Sunu remained in the room.

    Cale settled into an armchair, studying Anit and Sunu. Noting their hopeful looks, he chuckled softly and lifted his hands in surrender.

    “Right, I don’t want to be the third wheel, brother. I just wanted to say I’m on Tani’s side. A new life might mellow Anit’s temper.” He quickly raised his hands again when a thorny vine rustled in his direction. “I gotta go manage Aero and his misdeeds. See you, Sunu. Anit.”

    He vanished with a dark shimmer, leaving Sunu to sigh.

    “Forgive him. He’s always like this,” Sunu said.

    “I know,” Anit said, clasping her hands. “I-uh—you—”

    “Would you like to explore Tani’s hidden apple orchard?” Sunu asked. “I’ve wanted to see it for a long time. Cale gave me the coordinates.”

    “I’d love to,” Anit said, breaking into a wide smile.

    “Great,” Sunu said, then held out his right hand. “We can spend a day in Tani’s world for a while.”

    Anit took his hand, letting him pull her closer into a firm embrace, and she returned it in full. Their bond filled the spaces left by their long separation. Sunu’s heart soared when he felt Anit’s breath catch with excitement as he leaned in to kiss her.

    ****

    A year later, in the mortal realm, Nora Arturo set a vase of white tulips on a stand in the garden. She gently adjusted one of the blooms, then stepped back to admire the once-ordinary backyard now transformed into a picturesque wedding venue. Rows of chairs draped in soft linens faced a white gazebo, and lace-covered tables were arranged around it. Elderflowers from Hera and Deniz adorned each centerpiece, their sweet fragrance mingling with the June summer air. The buffet was prepared, and the musicians were tuning their instruments, filling the atmosphere with cheerful anticipation.

    Clapping her hands in satisfaction, Nora turned at the sound of Christophe calling her name. He stepped out of the kitchen looking handsome in a cream suit with a crisp white shirt. He wrapped an arm around her waist and kissed her cheek.

    “Dante is getting married for love,” Christophe said, gazing at the floral arrangements. “I almost can’t believe it. I worried he’d remain distant forever.”

    “Quite a change from the young man who was always so cold with everyone,” Nora agreed with a soft laugh. “But Tani has him smiling more. Yesterday, he was running around the vineyard with Deniz, laughing like a carefree boy. It was a delight to see, especially after that awful period he went missing last summer.”

    “Well,” Christophe said, drawing her closer, “he’ll live here with Tani. You won’t need to worry so much about him being alone anymore.”

    “Mm.” Nora nodded. “I’m thrilled about it. And now Tani’s introduced me to Selene, the dragon ekho who took over the auction. She made me a partner in the business. It’ll mean some traveling.”

    “That’s wonderful,” Christophe said. “You’ve always dreamed of having a thriving venture of your own.”

    “Yes,” Nora murmured, her eyes bright with excitement. “And it helps to have Tani around, especially if anyone tries to cause trouble like Aero did.”

    “Aero’s actions were unfortunate, but at least everything was resolved,” Christophe replied. “Grandfather Landi is in Kirtland checking on our grandchildren. Viola and her boyfriend moved in together, and April and Zach are doing well. Maybe we should invite them all here this summer.”

    “Let’s talk to Dante and Tani about it,” Nora said with a sigh. “We’d need plenty of planning to hide the house’s magik.”

    Christophe nodded, then smiled when Tom King and his girlfriend, Haziran, emerged from the house. Haziran’s brunette hair framed a face glowing with excitement, and her flowing blue dress complemented Tom’s white slacks, matching loafers, and blue shirt.

    “Everyone’s arriving,” Tom said as they exchanged greetings.

    “You look gorgeous, Haziran,” Nora said warmly. She turned to Tom. “So, when are you proposing?”

    Haziran lifted her right hand with a smile, revealing an emerald ring on her middle finger. “He proposed yesterday. We’re keeping it quiet until after Dante and Tani’s wedding—this is their day.”

    “Oh, congratulations!” Nora exclaimed, pulling Haziran into a tight hug. “I’m so happy for you.”

    Tom beamed when Christophe shook his hand. “Just keep it under wraps for now,” Tom whispered, looking over his shoulder as the door opened again.

    Deniz bounded out, her mother, Hera, right behind her. The little girl held two lilies in her hand.

    “What’s this, Deniz?” Nora asked.

    “Mom says you’re my new grandmother,” Deniz explained. “Lilies mean pure love. I know we won’t live in the same house, but I’ll love you always.”

    Tears threatened to spill from Nora’s eyes as she hugged Deniz. “I’ll love you too, Deniz. Always,” she said, then touched the child’s pretty blue dress. “Your dress is beautiful. I love the ribbons.”

    “Aunt Haziran had it made for me,” Deniz said proudly, spinning in a graceful circle. Her neatly brushed ponytail swung with each turn.

    Nora straightened and kissed Deniz’s forehead. Deniz handed the other flower to Christophe and declared him her grandfather. He lifted her high, making her giggle.

    “You’re spoiling her,” Hera teased as Nora hugged her in greeting.

    “Let her enjoy this,” Christophe said, setting Deniz on her feet. “Today is a celebration—two families becoming one.”

    “It’s certainly a happy occasion,” Hera agreed, smoothing the skirt of her elegant, deep-blue dress. A slit revealed a flash of her legs, and gold pins secured her intricate braids. “Babu’s wedding is the perfect excuse to dress up. We all have to show out.”

    “I’m glad you’re here,” Nora said, hugging Hera again. After they spoke for a few moments, Hera went to find her seat as Amu, Cale, Anit, and Sunu arrived, each looking stylish. Anit wore a vibrant blue gown threaded with delicate gold embroidery; her hair was pinned at her temple with matching gold barrettes, and she held Sunu’s arm.

    Nora drew a steadying breath. “It’s not every day you meet such powerful beings,” she murmured to Christophe.

    “Don’t be nervous,” he whispered, squeezing her hand.

    Anit released Sunu’s arm and approached Nora with open arms. Surprised and touched, Nora returned the hug.

    “We’re family now,” Anit said, patting Nora’s back. “My son is yours, as yours is mine. Let’s protect their happiness together.”

    Nora’s worries melted at Anit’s warmth, and she introduced Anit and Sunu to Christophe. The pair were just as gracious to him. Once greetings were exchanged, they all took their places at the front of the garden.

    More guests soon arrived—Dante’s colleagues, friends from the island, the Elderwood conservancy staff, and Tani’s acquaintances from around the globe. Nora delighted in introducing Tani’s parents to everyone, buoyed by Anit’s supportive presence at her side.

    By two o’clock, it was time for the ceremony to begin. Anit and Sunu settled in seats of honor, while Nora and Christophe took their own reserved spots. Rianon stood at the head of the gazebo to officiate, alongside a local judge. Tani’s lawyer, Vidar Badem, was present to oversee the paperwork.

    Nora checked her watch, its display clicking to 2:00 p.m., then glanced up as Dante and Tani stepped out of the house hand in hand. They paused for a moment, gazing at each other, framed by the golden afternoon light. Tani wore an ivory tuxedo with a red rose pinned to his lapel; Dante wore a black tuxedo, accented with a sprig of elderflowers. Soft music began to play, and they walked down the aisle toward the gazebo.

    The judge opened the ceremony with the legal vows. Dante and Tani signed the marriage license with Vidar and Rianon as witnesses. When the judge stamped the document and handed it over, cheers broke out. Tani raised the license for the crowd to see, then tucked it into the inner pocket of Dante’s jacket, smoothing his hand over the fabric. Dante patted his pocket, drawing laughter from all around.

    Next, Rianon presented two rings, forged with a golden metal shot through with a faint red gleam in the depths of the volcanic mountains in Kinon’s territory.

    Rianon gave Dante’s ring to Tani, and handed Tani Dante’s ring. She smiled and said, “Make your vows.”

    Dante turned to Tani and, with a solemn look, he took Tani’s left hand and slid the ring he held on Tani’s ring finger. “I will love you now and forever,” he promised. “I’ll stand by you through calamity and joy, always.”

    Tani took a deep breath when he felt the warmth of his ring on his finger. He took Dante’s left hand and slid a ring on his ring finger. Meeting Dante’s gaze, he said, “I’ve loved you and will continue loving you. I will walk beside you, through calamity and joy, forevermore.”

    Unseen by most mortals, a soft red glow appeared, stretching from Tani’s left wrist to Dante’s, binding them briefly before fading away.

    Rianon raised her hands in blessing. “May you find joy and love forevermore. Tani Ryuzo Arturo and Dante Arturo Ryuzo—forever one. You may kiss to seal your bond.”

    Dante drew Tani into his arms, their kiss sparking rousing applause. Tom whistled as the Elderwood staff and other guests joined in exuberant cheers.

    Arm in arm, Tani and Dante turned to greet everyone as a married couple. The celebration that followed was filled with laughter, music, and heartfelt toasts. Tom and Hera performed a spirited song, children from the neighborhood danced in a whirlwind of color and enthusiasm, and guests delivered impromptu speeches brimming with best wishes. The lively reception lasted well into the night, uniting two families in a garden wedding that glowed with love, hope, and the promise of a bright future.

    ****

    “Look,” Dante whispered to Tani late that evening, as they both sat at a small table sipping wine. Music drifted through the air, and guests circled the dance floor or chatted in lively clusters under fairy lights.

    Tani followed Dante’s gaze and spotted Vidar inviting Hera to dance. At first, Hera hesitated, but Deniz placed her mother’s hand in Vidar’s, urging her with an eager smile. Vidar’s face lit up as he led Hera to the dance floor, and the music shifted to a gentle melody. They began to sway in time, looking radiant together.

    “There’s always hope for love,” Tani murmured, turning to Dante. “Are you tired? Do you want to slip away?”

    Dante kissed his left cheek. “I’d love that. Where to, my love?”

    “Not far,” Tani said, a mischievous grin lighting his features. “You owe me some time on the couch in your room.”

    Dante chuckled, stood, and took Tani’s left hand. Their departure didn’t go unnoticed. Shouts of congratulations and teasing cheers followed them until they reached the kitchen. Then, Tani wrapped his arms around Dante, ready to teleport—only Dante moved first, surrounding them in a swirl of blue fire that whisked them straight to his suite.

    “You’re getting so good at that,” Tani said, releasing Dante as he wandered to the wide windows overlooking the vineyard. “I’ve missed this place. We’ve been so busy these past months—helping Hera and Tom settle the conservancy’s guardianship, assisting Selene at the apple orchard, meeting all of my parents’ aides. It feels good to finally be home.”

    “Welcome back,” Dante said, coming up behind Tani and sliding an arm around his waist. “You know, Tani—”

    “Mm?”

    “Tani Ryuzo Arturo,” Dante said, his voice brimming with tenderness.

    Tani chuckled, leaning his head back against Dante’s shoulder and clasping Dante’s arms. “Yes, Dante?”

    “You really are my beloved,” Dante said softly, holding Tani as though he never wanted to let go.

    “And you are mine, Dante Arturo Ryuzo,” Tani said with equal reverence.

    Their reflections glimmered in the window, silhouetted by moonlight pouring over the vineyard. Beyond the glass, crickets serenaded the blossoming vines, the stars above shimmering with promise.

    In that quiet room, safe in each other’s arms, their hearts pulsed with the surety of an everlasting love—one they had fought for and won. And in that moment of peace and joy, the future seemed brighter than ever, their bond a promise of many more tomorrows.

    ***

    The End.

    <<Previous | Table of Contents

  • A Thousand Years of Hope Ch 21

    Chapter Twenty-One

    Tani frowned at his elder bushes. He was beginning to realize the futility of trying to keep them trimmed, given the numerous ekho creatures that visited his home. With a scoff, he turned around and found Sunu—his father—standing in the middle of the library, staring up at the mural on the ceiling.

    “Cale’s painting skills have improved,” Sunu said. “He has quite the memory; this mural is remarkably accurate.”

    “He restored it a few weeks ago,” Amu said, coming closer to admire the mural. “May I ask what brings the Immortal Lord to our humble home?”

    “Cale called me on an errand,” Sunu answered, clasping his hands behind his back. He offered Amu a polite smile. “When it was finished, I decided to follow Tani home. I’ve never been here, although Anit has visited so often. I thought I should see it, too.”

    Amu glanced at Tani, who still stood by the windows. Nearby, Dante glared at Sunu as though he wanted to challenge him outright. Amu tried to catch Dante’s eye, but Dante was too focused on Sunu.

    “Looks like I’ve attracted someone’s ire,” Sunu noted with a small smile as he met Dante’s hostile stare. “Child, your fire is barely contained. Fortunately, I’m one of the few people on whom you can unleash it without consequence.”

    “Don’t think he can’t burn you,” Tani said, scowling at Sunu. “If you’re feeling energetic, do something about the elder bushes.”

    Sighing, Sunu let out a gentle pulse of power. The unruly elder bushes stopped overgrowing and settled.

    “No one will remember,” Sunu murmured.

    Tani gave a resigned sigh at his father’s effortless display of power. The distance between them felt even more painful now that they were face to face. He watched Sunu and felt a hollow ache in his chest. Even though Dante was angry on his behalf, Tani couldn’t ignore the yearning to have a closer relationship with his father. It pulsed under his skin, accompanied by a thousand questions about his lineage, his powers, and what it meant to be part of the fox clan—and the son of the Immortal Lord.

    “May I have a moment to speak with Tani?” Sunu asked Amu and Dante.

    Tani wanted to protest, but when he looked at Dante, he saw only encouragement. Crossing the room, Tani allowed Dante to pull him into a brief hug.

    “You’ve had a difficult few hours,” Tani murmured, kissing Dante’s cheek. “Go rest.”

    Dante shifted and pressed his lips to Tani’s in a lingering kiss.

    “I’ll be upstairs if you need me,” he said. “Just call, and I’ll come.”

    “Mm,” Tani replied with a nod.

    Amu left first, followed by Dante, who shot Sunu an unfriendly glance on his way out.

    With a soft chuckle, Sunu walked to an armchair and sat down.

    “Your beloved seems to have a low opinion of me,” he remarked. “What have you told him, Sweet Tani?”

    “Nothing,” Tani said, taking a seat opposite his father. “There isn’t much to tell. I barely know you.”

    Sunu’s smile wavered for a moment. “That’s my fault, though it doesn’t mean I don’t care for you. You are my son—my flesh and blood. Everything about you matters to me.”

    Tani thought of how Dante struggled to be present for his children, no matter the secrets or distance between them. He knew Dante felt burdened by the distance he needed to keep between him and his children. After their run-in with Lua Wadi, Tani could understand Dante’s struggles. He suddenly wondered what burdens Sunu faced.

    After all these centuries, Tani still found it unsettling that he knew so little about Sunu.

    “Are you the reason Uncle Cale always answers when I call?” Tani asked. “Is that why you made him my warden—so he could track me because we share your blood?”

    Sunu gave a small nod. “You’re a clever ekho. The Septum exists to balance power in the immortal lands. Without laws and guidelines, Siorai would collapse under the pressure of so many powerful beings. Our traditions have sometimes helped us and sometimes hindered us. History will likely remember my reign as the era when the Septum’s head imprisoned his successor simply for falling in love with a mortal. It’s humiliating.”

    Tani bit his bottom lip. “I feel no attachment to the ekho realm. I left it when I was too young. Maybe that was the grand design all along.”

    “Perhaps,” Sunu allowed. “Before you were born, Cale sensed you would experience a period of calamity. Anit and I tried to protect you, but we never imagined your calamity would revolve around forbidden love. Even with all my resources, I couldn’t stop it. The best I could do was assign Cale as your guardian.”

    Tani’s eyes widened. “Are you saying the God of Calamity predicted a thousand-year misfortune for me?”

    “Exactly,” Sunu said. “When you were born, I clung to hope that he might be mistaken and kept you with me for your first five hundred years. But then the fox clan began a disruptive movement, claiming the clan would collapse without its goddess—your mother—at the helm. Tensions rose so high that the dragon clan threatened to invade Gralia. Anit had no choice but to return home and stabilize her realm. She took you with her.”

    Sunu leaned his head back, gazing at the mural overhead. “The day I watched her leave our citadel, I realized I couldn’t avert your calamity through sheer willpower. I had to let your life unfold and hope that, at the end of all your trials, you’d still grant your parents a chance.”

    Tani stared at his father, his heart pounding with indescribable emotion. He barely understood his parents, and the chasm between them felt impossible to bridge.

    “Our family was broken from the start,” Tani said with a short, bitter laugh. “If you foresaw all this pain, why did you have me at all? Why allow me to exist if you knew I’d suffer so much?”

    Sunu’s amber eyes shone with quiet sincerity. “Because you are a precious gift given to us by fate. I’ll never regret your existence, Tani Ryuzo. You are Anit’s son, and you are my son. We love you—albeit imperfectly. I’m sorry I had to step away when you needed me most. I’m sorry I couldn’t for not being able to take away the pain you have endured. I love you, son. I only hope you can forgive us one day and give us a chance to be your family.”

    Tears filled Tani’s eyes at the regret in Sunu’s voice. He turned away, hastily swiping at his tears with the back of his hand. His throat felt tight, and it took him a moment to speak.

    “What do I have to do to get these cuffs off my wrists?” Tani asked softly. “Dante made his choice, and the cuffs remain in place. They won’t come off, even though my powers are unsealed.”

    Sunu glanced at Tani’s wrists, at the thin gold elder leaf bracelets he wore, and gave a thoughtful nod. “Dante is mortal. The weight of your past affects the weight of his promise.”

    “But—” Tani began.

    “I’m not saying the cuffs will never come off,” Sunu said with a gentle smile. “I’m only saying it may take longer than a few days. Soul matters aren’t like water pouring from a bucket in one rush. You and Dante share a long, perilous fate. You have to survive what’s coming before you can reach the other side.”

    Tani gripped the arms of his chair. “What does that even mean?”

    “You’re bonded to a mortal,” Sunu said. “Your life is long; his is not. Kinon has intervened to give Dante a fighting chance, so I can’t predict how things will turn out for him. But I do know that eventually, he’ll have to face the Palladium Gates to weigh his choice. The cuffs might be waiting for that.”

    Tani’s heart clenched. The Palladium Gates never allowed mortal souls through; only those with partial ekho blood could attempt it, and even then, it required colossal power. It was why Selene remained in the mortal realm—she couldn’t pass the test of the gates, while her brother had made it through.

    “Do you think Dante can make it?” Tani whispered.

    “He has Kinon’s lineage, so his fire is strong,” Sunu said. “In the end, his resolve will decide.”

    Tani exhaled. “Then if he can’t, I’ll stay here.”

    “For how long?” Sunu asked, meeting Tani’s gaze. “Mortals don’t live under the same measure of time we do. Unless Dante passes through those gates, he can’t cross the tides of time with you. You’ll have to face that truth.”

    Tani looked down at his hands, resting on the chair’s arms. Time was indeed the true master of the mortal realm—and a formidable enemy for an immortal being. An enemy as old as all the realms.

    “Tani.”

    He glanced up.

    “Whatever comes,” Sunu said quietly, “I’ll stand by your side, as will Cale, your mother Anit, and your uncle Amu. No matter what trials await, we’ll face them with you.”

    A surge of conflicting emotions brought tears to Tani’s eyes again, and all he could do was nod. He hoped he’d be strong enough to endure whatever lay ahead.

    After a moment, Tani stood. Sunu reached out a hand as though to stop him.

    “May I stay a few days?” Sunu asked. His voice was gentle, as though he feared rejection. “I’d like some time in your world.”

    Tani hesitated, conscious of the awkwardness between them. This was the first time he’d truly spoken to Sunu as a father, not just as the Immortal Lord. At last, he shrugged.

    “Everyone here is equal. You’ll eat the same food we make and treat Tom, Hera, and Deniz with respect. No one will accommodate you just because you’re from the Septum.”

    Sunu offered him a genuine smile. “I understand.”

    “Good,” Tani said. “There’s a free suite next to Uncle Amu’s. You can stay there. I’m going to find Dante.”

    Turning to leave, Tani paused at the door. He caught a glimpse of Sunu’s delighted expression before he shut it behind him. Despite his conflicted heart, Tani couldn’t deny that for the first time in centuries, the distance between them felt just a bit smaller.

    ****

    Anit watched Zal and his minions prepare for the next case, Cale’s warning still lingering in her mind. It left a bitter taste on her tongue. She wanted to follow Cale to discover why Tani had summoned him to the mortal realm, but she could not leave the court until it was formally adjourned. Suddenly, the demands of civility felt stifling.

    Her gaze shifted to the five judges listening to a dispute between two neighbors. One neighbor’s young daughter had activated a vine spell in their backyard, causing the vines to grow wildly and spill into the other yard, nearly suffocating a woman who happened to be there at the time. The girl was eight and contrite. Anit knew the judges would likely order training for the child since she showed a great affinity for magik.

    “Nela,” Anit called to the strongest of the Bao. She used a concealment spell before Nela shimmered into the court and stood by the chair Cale would have occupied.

    “Lady Izuna,” Nela said.

    “Nela, can you tell me what case the Anael branch is presenting?” Anit asked.

    “The Bao Sentinels mentioned Shugo Hosa’s disappearance in our last all-sentinel meeting,” Nela said. “He’s a candidate in the Anael leadership election, and we keep track of all such elections to ensure fairness. His disappearance has everyone on edge. As my grandfather mentioned, the Bao have been concerned about Zal’s continued leadership in Anael. Zal and his assistant, Tara, have held their positions for too long. It’s safe to assume they’re here to present evidence related to Shugo’s absence.”

    “Has Bao searched for Shugo?” Anit asked.

    “We have,” Nela replied. “There’s no trace of him in Gralia. Most of our elite teams have searched, but we haven’t found anything.”

    Anit exhaled and straightened in her chair.

    “Summon all the Sentinel houses,” she said. “I want an audit of the Anael Sentinel Branch. Any cases they’re working on are now on hold, and any plans made with the Anael Sentinel Branch are canceled. By the end of this session, we’ll convene a council.”

    “I’ll arrange it,” Nela said, leaving the court to prepare.

    Anit gripped the arms of her chair as the presiding judge read the decision for the girl who had unleashed the vines.

    “Raven Verda shall report to the Gralia Academy of Acolytes in three days. The court will monitor her attendance. We hope her time at the academy helps her better understand her abilities.”

    Raven’s parents thanked the court and apologized to their neighbors. They left with mixed emotions. Anit hoped the girl would learn to balance her power as she continued her training.

    “Next case,” the court manager announced. “The Anael Sentinel Branch will present evidence to prove one of their members is missing. Shugo Hosa has not been seen for two moon cycles. The Anael Sentinel will provide more information on his whereabouts.”

    “Sentinel business,” Anit said with a smirk, catching Zal’s eye. “I invoke the council.”

    “The Fox Goddess has invoked the council,” the court manager intoned. “The court shall empty of citizens. All Sentinel heads and members shall appear in court within the hour. May I ask, Lady Izuna, what the topic is?”

    “The Anael Sentinel Branch elections and whatever else Nela Bao decides,” Anit declared, smiling when she saw Zal’s supporters grow anxious. “I can’t wait to hear what has been happening.”

    ****

    Dante followed Amu into the living room after leaving Tani, but he couldn’t stop frowning at the thought of Tani facing a father he hadn’t seen in so long.

    “Don’t worry,” Amu said, as though reading his mind. “For all his faults, Sunu loves Tani very much. He won’t do anything to upset him.”

    “How do you know?” Dante asked, moving to the window to stare into the afternoon sunlight. He could hardly believe that he and Tani had just been in Kirtland. At least he’d managed to see Zach and April, however briefly—it was enough to ease some lingering concerns.

    “What happened with your son, Zach?” Amu asked, gently changing the subject.

    Dante turned to face him. Amu was like a father to Tani, so Dante supposed he might think of him now as a father-in-law. That idea brought a flicker of cheer to his expression.

    Amu sank into an armchair, and Dante took the seat across from him.

    “Tani took us to Kirtland,” Dante explained. “It was nighttime there, and when we found the camp where the kids had gone, we found the search-and-rescue team already at work. Tani tracked Zach using a protective spell I’d placed on him. We found Zach asleep in an old gazebo under a green blanket. He was with a man named Lua Wadi, who wanted to use Zach and me to force Tani to call Cale—the god of calamity.”

    Dante shook his head. “Does every ekho know about Tani’s calamity and Cale’s involvement?”

    “It’s hard to hide,” Amu said with a rueful smile. “Tani is Anit and Sunu’s son. Ideally, he’d live in Gralia’s log house in Yesserin Mountain or at the Citadel with his father, completing rites of passage like anyone else. Instead, he’s here in the mortal realm.”

    Dante nodded. “I think his parents miss him,” he said quietly.

    “I’m sure they do,” Amu replied. “That’s why Anit visits and leaves all those strange gifts.”

    Dante’s gaze settled on the fox carving in the middle of the room. When Tani was here, the statue had been upright and alert. Now it lay curled up as if sleeping. He smiled at the peculiarity, then looked back at Amu.

    “Did Lua get what he wanted?” Amu asked.

    “I’m not sure,” Dante said. “Tani summoned Cale. After Cale arrived, I got Zach out of the gazebo. Then Tani teleported me to a path near the administrative buildings. I used my magik to compel one of the rescue workers so she would believe she’d found Zach by the river.”

    “Did anyone see you?” Amu asked, curious.

    “April,” Dante answered with a smile. “She rushed to hug me before I could hide. I hugged her back and told her everything was fine—that Zach was safe—then I sealed her memory of the night.”

    “She’ll remember if it becomes important,” Amu said.

    “Probably,” Dante agreed. “For the first time, I felt a deep concern for my children, a need to protect them. And I knew that feeling came from Tani.”

    “And what do you think of Tani?” Amu asked. “You’ve come back here together. I sense his power is more at ease, no longer so restrained. You’ve made commitments.”

    Dante held Amu’s bright green eyes. They were nothing like Tani’s amber, though they shared the same fiery hair: Tani’s red-brown, Amu’s the color of ripe pomegranate seeds.

    “Tani is my soul,” Dante said without hesitation. “I can’t live without him.”

    Amu studied him, then exhaled a soft sigh. “Finally. It’s good to see you offer him the same devotion he’s always given.”

    Dante almost agreed but hesitated, recalling the records he had read at the library before their trip to Kirtland.

    “Uncle Amu,” Dante said, smiling when Amu blinked at the address. “Tani calls you Uncle, so I should too.”

    Amu nodded in acknowledgment.

    “What makes you think the others didn’t choose him?” Dante asked. “I’ve been dreaming about my past reincarnations. That’s how I recognized Tani when we met. At first, I remembered the awful moments of leaving him. Lately, though, I’ve seen how those past lives tried to return to Tani—but Tani was gone, or they died before reaching him. Don’t you think they tried their best too?”

    Amu let out a weary breath. “So, do you plan to change what happens this time? Do you think it can be changed?”

    “Yes. I’ll make sure no one interferes with my choice,” Dante said. “I’ll fight for him and keep what’s mine. I can be very possessive.”

    Amu chuckled. “A wonderful trait when it comes to loving an ekho fox. We’re quite possessive, and it’s been painful to watch my nephew suffer disappointment.”

    Dante met Amu’s gaze again, his heart racing at the quiet warning in those green eyes.

    “Whatever happens,” Dante said, “I’ll give everything I have. I won’t hold back. I don’t want regrets, and I’ll do everything I can to keep us together.”

    Amu looked toward the living room door. Dante followed his gaze and found Tani standing there, smiling.

    “Are you happy?” Amu asked, getting up to stand beside Dante’s chair. He patted Dante’s shoulder with a small smile.

    “Yes,” Tani said.

    “Good,” Amu answered as Tani walked over to them. “So, your father—are we accommodating him?”

    “Yes,” Tani said with a nod. “I told him to stay in the suite next to yours.”

    “I’ll go check on him,” Amu said, then left the room with brisk steps.

    Dante stood, and Tani launched himself into his arms.

    “I love you,” Tani murmured, pressing his face into Dante’s shoulder.

    “And I love you,” Dante said, kissing Tani’s hair. “With everything I have.”

    Tani clung to him, then lifted his head. “I’ll take you somewhere.”

    “Where?” Dante asked, cradling Tani’s waist.

    “A quick tour, then we’ll visit the first place we ever said ‘I love you’ to each other,” Tani replied. “Close your eyes.”

    Dante did as he was told, trusting Tani’s teleportation. He’d grown used to the sudden shifts in location and had even come to appreciate them.

    Tani took Dante on a tour through the forest surrounding the conservancy. Tani showed Dante the marshlands, a thick forest with ancient endangered trees. They ate oranges in a hidden grove and fought with territorial monkeys over the ripe oranges. Finally, they stopped by a hollow tree, and Dante crouched with a broad smile as Tani petted two small foxes.

    “Why are they living here?” Dante asked.

    “The river flooded,” Tani explained, “and I helped them find this hollow. Aren’t they adorable? Want to try?”

    He picked up one of the foxes and turned to Dante.

    Dante approached cautiously, hand trembling as he reached out. The little fox let him pet it for a moment before shrinking away.

    “What’s wrong?” Tani asked, lifting the fox to eye level.

    ‘He’s too hot,’ said the fox. ‘His fire stings.’

    Tani patted the fox’s head and returned it to the hollow, where it disappeared inside the tree with its companion.

    He glanced at Dante. “They’re wary of the fire in your blood. You’re still running hot from our fight with Lua.”

    “I was triggered when Zach was in danger,” Dante said, inspecting his palms. A faint orange-red glow pulsed beneath the skin. “It’ll take time to cool.”

    Tani took Dante’s hands and pressed them against his cheeks. “I think it’s perfectly nice.”

    “You’re biased,” Dante teased with a helpless grin.

    “I need to tell you something,” Tani said softly, still holding Dante’s hands.

    “Something your father told you?” Dante guessed.

    “No,” Tani answered. “Lua confessed he brought kara ot from the ekho realm—specifically designed to harm a mortal. He helped a villain use it against you. Every time you tried to return to me, they interfered, and you died. I don’t know what to do with this revelation. Thankfully, Cale and Sunu learned the truth, and they’ll make sure Lua and his accomplices are punished.”

    Swift relief swept through Dante. He exhaled and met Tani’s gaze. “I’m glad. They never entirely tore us apart. I’m happy to know the others never let our love down. Let your love down. That although broken and twisted, they still knew to find you again. Even if it took so many tries, I still found you.”

    Tani leaned up and kissed him. “I should have stayed so you could find me more easily,” he murmured. “Maybe none of this would have happened if—”

    “No regrets,” Dante whispered, pulling him close. “Maybe everything led us to where we are now. I’m finally strong enough to face your true existence head-on. And I’m grateful we discovered the truth together.”

    Dante pressed his forehead against Tani’s shoulder.

    “I’m glad it was with me,” Dante repeated, unable to hide the jealousy at the thought of Tani finding his happiness with the others, especially the janissary.

    Tani chuckled. “Stop drinking your vinegar. How can you be jealous of your past self?”

    “Can’t help it,” Dante admitted, hugging Tani tighter. “You and the janissary built a castle that is still standing today. All I’ve done is help with some apple trees at your hidden cottage.”

    Tani laughed. “Then let’s build something too.”

    “What?” Dante asked, voice muffled by Tani’s shoulder.

    “I’m not sure. We’ll figure it out. But first, another special place.” Tani pulled him close, teleporting them away from the fox hole. “We’re here.”

    Dante opened his eyes, arms still wrapped around Tani. He drew in a sharp breath at the sight of a waterfall plunging from a tall cliff into a clear blue lake, evergreen trees towering on either side. A cool mist clung to the air, and the cascading water sparkled in the late afternoon sun.

    “Where are we?” Dante asked, looking at Tani. “I’ve seen this in my dreams. You brought Durante here. There’s a cave behind the falls.”

    “It’s deep within the conservancy,” Tani said, taking his hand. “Want to swim?”

    “I didn’t bring a swimsuit.”

    “Who needs one?” Tani teased, shrugging off his suit jacket and dropping it on a nearby rock. He peeled off his shirt and trousers, beaming when he stood there naked.

    Dante grinned back at his carefree lover, who dashed into the lake with an elated laugh, disappearing beneath the surface. Dante tore off his clothes and dove in after him. The cold water shocked his overheated skin, making him laugh as he swam. The roar of the waterfall echoed around them, and Tani’s playful splashes drew him close.

    They chased each other like spirited children, the afternoon light dancing through the trees. Tani flung water at Dante, and Dante dunked him in return until both were breathless and laughing.

    Tani drifted in close, kissing Dante’s shoulder before darting toward the waterfall. Dante followed, spellbound by the copper glints in Tani’s hair. Sunshine and water mingled in a scene that felt full of promise—like a world where happiness could last.

    Catching up, Dante seized Tani’s arm, pulling him into an embrace. He found Tani’s amber gaze and kissed him, warmth sparking through every nerve. Tani sighed contentedly, winding his arms around Dante’s neck. In that moment, time faded away, leaving only the two of them.

    The waterfall’s thunder mixed with their murmurs. Their kisses and tender touches grew urgent and passionate, stoking desire. Tani broke their kiss, and suddenly Dante was resting against a warm comfortable surface with Tani leaning over him. With a quiet gasp, Dante realized they were no longer out in the open; Tani had whisked them into the cave behind the falls. Blue crystals on the walls cast a soft glow, and a thick wool blanket lay on a natural ledge. It felt intimate and secret—a space belonging only to them.

    “You’re full of surprises,” Dante murmured against Tani’s lips.

    “The good kind?” Tani asked, threading his fingers through Dante’s hair.

    “The best kind,” Dante replied, deepening the kiss. Sparks of magic danced along Tani’s skin, and Dante shivered at the electric thrill when Tani returned his caresses with equal eagerness.

    “Dante,” Tani breathed, voice trembling with want. He held Dante tighter, urging him on.

    A gentle, pulsing glow lit the cave as their magic mingled and twined. Each caress sent a jolt of electricity racing along Dante’s senses. He shivered when Tani’s hands explored him with matching eagerness, their bodies moving in a harmony older than time. Minutes or hours might have passed; it felt endless. Dante marveled at how perfectly they fit together, as though they had been made for this dance since the dawn of creation. Tani’s breath came hot against Dante’s neck, and soon neither could tell whose heart was pounding louder, their mingling voices blended with the waterfall’s steady drum.

    They savored every moment, lovemaking unhurried and comforting as if time itself had paused for them. Finally, they lay entwined on the blanket, enveloped by the glow of the crystals and their shared afterglow.

    Tani nuzzled Dante’s shoulder and sighed. “What if I asked you to stay here forever with me?” he said, half-teasing.

    Dante smiled, tracing slow circles on Tani’s back. “I’d say yes in a heartbeat. Think we can manage that?”

    Tani lifted his head, his grin playful. “You’d make a handsome forest king, but you might miss Artri House.”

    “We can always visit Artri House—but we don’t have to stay,” Dante said, threading his fingers through Tani’s hair. Tani’s eyes slid shut, enjoying the touch.

    “I think it would be lovely to stare in your family home,” Tani said after a while. “It feels like somewhere I can always find you.”

    “Then we’ll live there when we’re ready,” Dante replied warmly. “It’ll be our home.”

    They fell silent, cradled in each other’s embrace, safe in the cave’s secret sanctuary. For that perfect period, nothing else mattered—only Dante, Tani, and the soft hush of the waterfall, promising a future as bright and steadfast as the love they shared.

    <<Previous | Table of Contents | Next>>

  • A Thousand Years of Hope Ch 19

    It was raining when Tani and Dante went to bed at the cottage on Thursday. Tani had spent most of the afternoon reinforcing the barrier around the orchard to keep mortals out. The apples growing on the trees were not easy to consume, which was why he gave them to Selene. She knew where to sell them, and there were those who needed them.

    Dante moved to cover them with the sheets, but Tani stopped him.
    “Close your eyes,” Tani said, moving Dante’s hand away from the covers.

    Dante smiled. “Are you going to surprise me with something?”

    “Yes.” Tani brushed Dante’s hair away from his face, lingering on the neat beard that had grown during their stay at the cottage. “I’ll help you trim your beard in the morning.”

    “Do you know how?” Dante asked, settling back on the pillows with his gaze fixed on Tani.

    “Teach me,” Tani said, kissing Dante’s forehead. “I’m a fast learner.”

    “This is a big one, though,” Dante said, looking reluctant. Tani smiled.

    “I love my beard, baby.”

    Tani grinned. “You don’t bat an eyelash freeing me from Kinon’s cuffs, but you’re hesitating about me trimming your beard.”

    Dante sighed. “It took a while to get it the way I like it. Besides, I’m a little vain. I want to look good when I stand next to you, Fox Lord.”

    “Don’t pick up Selene’s habits,” Tani said.

    “Why don’t you like it when she calls you Fox Lord?” Dante asked.

    “I don’t know,” Tani said, shaking his head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

    “Hm.” Dante caressed Tani’s brow with his thumb. “At some point, you’ll have to face some truths about who you really are. So will I. We should talk about it so we know what to do. You know that, right?”

    “I do,” Tani said with a nod. He just didn’t want to deal with the future so soon. He had only just gotten Dante back in his life. He wanted to hold on to the present, to this smiling Dante gazing at him. Why discuss a future so uncertain?

    “You always look good to me,” Tani said, touching Dante’s beard. “Even if you shaved clean and decided to go bald, I’d still love you.”

    Dante sighed. “Now you’re flirting, and you know I can’t resist.”

    Tani covered Dante’s eyes with his right palm, then stretched out over him, kissing his lips. His heart filled with joy when Dante wrapped his arms around him. With a thought, Tani brought them to his bedroom at the red-brick residence behind the Elderwood fortress.

    Dante gasped at the feel of the cool sheets beneath him. Tani’s bed here was larger than the one in the cottage. Tani moaned when Dante deepened the kiss and rolled over him. They kissed for another moment before Dante broke away and looked around.

    “Baby, you sure do know how to surprise me. We go to bed in one place and wake up in another.”

    Tani chuckled and folded his hands under his head as Dante moved to get off the bed.
    “We’re in my suite of rooms at Elderwood,” Tani said, watching Dante begin a slow exploration of the room.

    “What about the food at the cottage?” Dante asked. “It’ll go bad.”

    “Selene will visit in the morning. She’ll take care of it. I sent her a note asking her to drop by.”

    “Okay,” Dante said, moving to the oak vanity table on the right side of the bed.

    Tani sat in the middle of the bed with his legs crossed, observing Dante’s curiosity. Hera and Deniz liked to keep various knickknacks on that table. Hera collected watches and combs for Tani, storing them in the drawers, and Deniz often brought ribbons, pins, and hair ties for herself, which she kept in a black basket there. Tom gifted Tani cuff links for his shirts. He had long since stopped trying to manage what they collected on his behalf.

    “What’s this?” Dante asked, picking up a half mask from a box on the vanity. It was shaped like a fox, complete with ears and pointed eye openings.

    Tani smiled. “Deniz wears it when we play hide-and-seek.”

    His smile widened when Dante put on the mask.

    “Deniz will love you,” Tani said. “She loves anyone willing to play make-believe with her.”

    “Do I look like a fox?” Dante asked.

    “All you need are nine tails, and you’d be at the height of mischief,” Tani said.

    “How many do you have?” Dante asked.

    “Nine,” Tani said, “though I haven’t let them out in centuries. I had no power to make them manifest.”

    “One of these days, maybe you’ll have the courage to show me,” Dante said, removing the mask, and putting it back in its box.

    “Hm,” Tani said with a nod.

    Dante wandered to the left side of the room, stopping at the floor-length windows. They had no curtains but were tinted for privacy. He made an appreciative sound at the view.

    “So, this is where you’ve hidden the forest you protect,” Dante said. “You get to see it the moment you wake up.”

    Tani left the bed and stood next to him. Far below, the thick canopy of trees stretched on for miles. The forest lay calm in the night, wild animals moving at their own pace, the river peaceful, and the little foxes Tani had rescued thriving.

    “Everything in that forest has been my companion for a long time,” Tani said.

    “It’s beautiful,” Dante said.

    “There’s a closet over there.” Tani pointed to a pair of doors in the corner of the room. “You can move your clothes in. What’s mine is yours, Dante.”

    Dante nodded and came to him. He pulled Tani into a warm embrace.

    “I’ll be meeting your family in the morning,” Dante said as Tani snuggled against him. “I’m nervous.”

    “Why?” Tani asked. “They already know you. Tom and Hera have met you.”

    “As a client. Hera wanted to stab me with ice, and Tom held me down with vines and soil. Your family members are terrifying. It’s different now that I’m your boyfriend.”

    “Says the Fire Warlock,” Tani said with a shake of his head. He tilted his face up to meet Dante’s gaze. “Boyfriend is a quaint word for what we are to each other.”

    “What word would you use?”

    “You are my lover,” Tani said, hiding his face against Dante’s shoulder, smiling. “You’re my beloved.”

    “Your old-world words are too romantic,” Dante said, holding Tani tighter. “I love you, too. I should say it often so you remember.”

    “Who would forget?” Tani asked. “Come on. Let’s sleep. You need rest.”

    “In a few minutes,” Dante said. “I want to take in your spectacular view a little longer. Will you show me your forest?”

    “You’re afraid of snakes.”

    “You can talk to them, ask them to stay away,” Dante said confidently. “Sweet-talk them so they don’t come near me.”

    Tani chuckled. “Whatever happened to looking brave?”

    “It went out of style,” Dante said. “I like it when you protect me.”

    “Silver tongue,” Tani teased, wrapping his arms around Dante’s waist. Still, he couldn’t help smiling at the thought of introducing Dante to the little hollow tree where two rescued foxes now lived. He wondered if Dante would enjoy meeting them.

    ****

    Amu led Cale and Eren down a narrow, winding path to the Bao Sentinel Branch. They left behind the bustling corridors of the inter-clan court hallways, stepping into a calmer, secluded space that felt almost like an enchanted garden. Tall, vibrant plants spilled from large pots in every corner, and smaller shrubs sprouted in neat clusters. Vines climbed wooden trellises against the courtyard’s high walls, lending the area an air of old-world mystique. The smooth stone floor, polished to a gentle sheen, reflected the lush greenery around them. Intricately decorated benches lined the perimeter, their metal accents forming swirling patterns of leaves and phoenixes.

    At the far end of the courtyard, they stopped before a pair of massive black doors, thick enough to withstand a siege. The word “Bao” was carved into the wood in an elaborate design that twisted into foxlike motifs. As Gralia’s intelligence hub, the Bao Sentinel Branch prided itself on high security. Anit relied on these offices to keep track of events in Gralia, and only a trusted few were granted entry.

    Amu slipped the token Anit had given him from his pocket. He pressed it against the round door handle, which glowed green for a moment before it clicked open.

    A tall, striking woman stood on the other side, her thick, dark hair falling well past her shoulders. She wore a black suit of ornate armor—a fitted, corset-like breastplate etched with swirling metalwork, over which large shoulder pauldrons gave her a regal, almost gothic silhouette. Long tassets draped over her leather-clad legs, blending structured metal plating with fluid fabric. Polished gloves completed the look. Her green eyes sparkled with keen intelligence as she regarded Amu and his companions.

    When she recognized Amu, she snapped to attention, dipping her head in a short nod. “Lord Izuna, welcome. I’m Nela Bao. We have been expecting you.”

    “Nela Bao,” Amu greeted her with a polite bow. “May I introduce Eren, the Earth Goddess, and Cale, Master of the Dark Fort.”

    “Of course,” Nela replied. She opened the heavy doors wider, revealing a more private section of the courtyard. If it had been tranquil outside, this inner portion was downright hushed. She showed no fear at the mention of Cale’s formidable title, though Amu did not miss her guarded curiosity.

    Once they had all stepped inside, Nela locked the doors with a soft click. Beyond them lay an ornate table inlaid with intricate metal strips along its edges and legs, echoing the decorative style of the courtyard benches. “You have arrived in time to meet another guest. I wonder if you share the same questions?”

    “Anit did not mention our purpose?” Amu asked, surprised.

    “No,” Nela said smoothly. “Lady Izuna merely asked me to facilitate your visit. Please, follow me.”

    Amu exchanged a brief glance with Eren—who remained quiet—and caught Cale’s dark gaze sweeping over Nela with evident interest. Something about her confidence and composure intrigued him, and it made Amu frown slightly, unsure of Cale’s intentions.

    Nela led them to a small meeting room just off the courtyard. Here, wooden chairs fashioned from apple-tree logs encircled the ornate table. Seated at one of these chairs, sipping tea, was Kinon, the God of Fire.

    Amu stopped in surprise. He had not expected to see Kinon here.

    “Kinon!” Eren said brightly. She hurried forward, kissing the Fire God’s cheek. “You didn’t tell me you were visiting the fox clan lands.”

    Kinon chuckled and stood to greet Cale with a solemn nod. Then he turned to Amu and smiled. “Long time no see, Lord Izuna.”

    “Call me Amu. It is good to see you, Lord Kinon.”

    “If I’m to call you Amu, then call me Kinon,” the Fire God insisted, gesturing to the teapot on the table. “I’m here at your home, enjoying an excellent cup of tea. Please, be at ease.”

    Amu inclined his head and took a seat, urging Eren and Cale to do the same. “What brings you to the inter-clan court?” he asked, genuinely curious.

    “Lord Sunu asked me to investigate why Lady Izuna was at a disadvantage when they first met,” Kinon explained, taking a measured sip of his tea. “At the same time, Lady Izuna asked Nela Bao to look into similar matters. As fate would have it, we crossed paths and found a black crystal harboring Kara ot in the Zona Forest. We left Lord Sunu setting a trap for the crystal’s owner, and we came here to determine who might dare cultivate such a sinister object. We were exchanging ideas about it when you arrived.”

    “How fascinating,” Eren said. “Amu and I met the family of Lord Tani’s beloved in the mortal realm. The black weed damaged their vineyard soil. Lord Tani persuaded his beloved’s mother to reveal the name of the ekho who sells her contraband supplies. He is called Aero.”

    “Aero,” Kinon murmured, frowning.

    Cale let out a quiet sigh. “The name could be an alias.”

    “Likely,” Amu agreed. “But Tani says Aero is from the dragon clan.”

    “That narrows it down,” Cale said. “Dragons prize unique, valuable things.”

    “Aero apparently runs an auction in the mortal realm,” Eren added.

    “And how does he shuttle back and forth to the mortal realm?” Kinon asked, his brows knitting.

    Eren’s gaze flicked to Nela Bao, who stood behind Kinon in silence. “He might be using an inter-clan travel pass. Perhaps from right here at the court.”

    Eren’s tone was accusatory, her gaze challenging as she looked at Nela Bao.

    “Would you like to see our records?” Nela asked calmly. Her voice carried authority that belied her youthful face—an authority Amu knew extended far beyond standard protocol. As the head of the Bao Sentinel Offices, she had the power to review, confirm, or rescind travel permissions with a mere thought. Sometimes, though, even she had to employ deeper security.

    She stepped closer to the table, which glinted under the soft lantern light. Drawing a slim dagger from her left sleeve, she cut a shallow line across her palm. “Passage permissions,” she intoned, letting a single drop of blood fall onto the center of the tabletop.

    At once, the table’s surface flared with white light, and shimmering gold symbols slid across it. Kinon moved his teacup away, and the others leaned in, watching as runes and marks darted over the gleaming surface. The air pulsed with energy—Amu could feel Nela’s aura of command intensify. He remembered Anit describing how the Bao records were so secure that only a ranking Bao Sentinel’s blood—or that of her direct ancestors—could unlock their full history.

    “This should match the record kept by the Palladium Gates guardian,” Nela said. “The fox clan has nothing to hide.”

    Her calm statement made Eren nod. “Fair enough.”

    “Now,” Nela continued, pressing her bloodied palm against the table as symbols rearranged themselves, “let us search for Aero.”

    Gold lines raced across the tabletop, halting abruptly.

    “No record for ‘Aero,’” Nela reported. “Do you know the dates of his rumored departures?”

    “I do,” Cale said. When everyone turned to look at him, he shrugged. “Sahdrina gave me the dates. She keeps exceptionally accurate logs.”

    He produced a small scroll, which Nela unrolled and studied. She manipulated the symbols on the table with an almost effortless grace—Amu noted how she barely needed to speak to command the system.

    A single name appeared multiple times, correlating to the dates on Cale’s list: “Lua Wadi.”

    “Who is Lua Wadi?” Kinon asked, leaning forward to read the shimmering lines of text.

    Nela lightly touched Lua’s name. It rippled, opening a wider window revealing a series of personal details. “He has a mother living in one of the rural towns, outside the capital. I can send a team to get her for questioning.”

    “No need,” Kinon said, lifting a hand. “She might not know much. According to these records, Lua has remained in the mortal realm for decades.”

    “I see,” Nela said, nodding thoughtfully. “You may be right. We will of course assist, if you see a need.”

    Cale tapped a finger on the record that showed Lua’s employment. “He works for the Anael Sentinel Offices. Still receives a stipend, even though he’s living in the mortal realm. Interesting.”

    Silence fell. Nela stood transfixed by the data. Amu glanced at her sharply—something about Lua Wadi was causing her unease.

    “Nela,” Amu said, drawing her attention. “Is there something of note about Lua?”

    She hesitated. “This is a matter best discussed with Lady Izuna. I trust you understand, Lord Amu.”

    “Of course,” Eren said, sparing Nela from further inquiry. “At least now we have a lead. Nela Bao, is there any Kara ot growing here in the fox clan lands? Have you had incidents of infection? There are so many hybrid children here. Could there be—?”

    Nela’s voice sharpened. “Absolutely not. We clean out black weed the moment it appears. Gralia’s lands are free of Kara ot infestation.”

    “Except for that crystal in the Zona Forest,” Kinon pointed out. “But that is on us too, as it seems to be harming those with fox clan blood.”

    Eren bowed her head, contrite. “Then I owe the Fox Goddess an apology for assuming otherwise.”

    “She’ll be happy to hear your apology,” Cale said with a slight grin, making Eren shudder.

    Amu hid a smile, recalling the time Anit wrapped Eren in vines with sharp-edged leaves that cut her skin. He doubted Eren wanted to be in the same room with Anit now.

    Nela broke in, her green eyes flicking between them. “What would you like to do next?”

    Cale slid a finger across the table’s glowing text. “I’ve found what I came for. Lua Wadi is evidently the key to Sahdrina’s request—that I track the being slipping through the Palladium Gates. I also suspect a betrayal at the Inter Clan Court, so I should speak with Lady Izuna. If you’ll all excuse me, I have my own inquiries to make.”

    He rose and left, striding back through the ornate courtyard. As he disappeared around the corner, Amu wondered at the intensity in Cale’s dark gaze. Something about the court itself was unsettling him—perhaps the same unease Nela Bao was experiencing.

    Once Cale was gone, Kinon and Amu turned their attention to Eren, who sat with her hands clasped in her lap. She looked momentarily adrift.

    “Would you like to return to Elderwood?” Amu asked gently.

    Eren shook her head. “No, thank you. I think Lord Tani would be displeased to see more of his Elderwood bursting into bloom for nothing. I hoped to provide you with answers about the poisoning at the Arturo Vineyard, but this plot runs deeper than I anticipated. It’s too devious for me. I’ll leave the investigation to you, Kinon, and Cale.”

    Amu nodded. “We appreciate all the help you’ve given us so far, Eren. I’ll keep you informed.”

    Eren offered a small smile and stood. “Thank you. I’ll report my findings to Lord Sunu in the citadel. Please keep me updated.”

    She hurried off, presumably bound for the immortal lands in Siorai.

    “That leaves just us,” Kinon remarked, leaning back in his chair. “Amu, how is the fox lord faring?”

    Amu let out a sigh. “He and Dante are off together. Tani is trying one last time to safeguard their bond. He senses a deadline approaching. He doesn’t fully understand why it exists, but he knows outside forces are at play.”

    Kinon paused, contemplating. “If I’ve noticed it, he naturally would too. That’s why I made some . . . changes to Dante’s bloodline. I figured if there was interference, I would give them a fighting chance.”

    A swirl of worry flitted through Amu. He thought of Tani’s unwavering devotion to Dante—and the heartbreak that loomed if they failed.

    “There has been more than enough interference all around,” Amu said. “I’m eager for it to end. I wish for the days when I didn’t have to worry if my nephew is going to explode because of sorrow.”

    Kinon gave a sympathetic nod. “We all would. I’ll be keeping an eye on the Arturo Vineyard. Whoever’s encroaching on my territory will regret it once I catch them. I’ll let you know when I find Aero.”

    “Thank you,” Amu said earnestly. “I should return to Elderwood. Tani might be looking for me.”

    “Hm,” Kinon mused, conjuring a small burst of fire in his right palm. When the flame receded, it left a palm-sized Elderwood branch behind. He extended his hand to Amu. “Lord Tani’s father has been thinking about him. Will you give this to Lord Tani?”

    “What is it?” Amu asked, reaching for the branch.

    “Call it a father’s grace. But don’t hold it with bare hands—it’ll burn you. Best keep it in a magic bag.”

    Amu slipped off the small pouch tied to his belt. Holding it open, he let Kinon drop the Elderwood branch inside.

    “Well, I’ll be on my way, too,” Amu said, standing. He paused to flash Nela Bao a polite nod. “Thank you for your assistance—and for handling Eren’s skepticism. She truly did not mean to sound so accusatory.”

    Nela managed a soft smile. “It rolled off my back, Lord Amu. It’s always a pleasure to see you here.”

    “Greet your grandfather for me,” Amu said by way of farewell.

    He left the Bao Sentinel Branch, feeling an unsettling churn in his stomach. Although Nela had revealed enough to point them toward Lua Wadi, she was clearly holding back. Amu suspected it was a matter of strict confidentiality—something that might challenge Anit Izuna’s authority.

    Stepping over the smooth stones of the courtyard and past the wild greenery, Amu found himself wondering who might be challenging his sister’s rule. If they were reckless enough to toy with Tani and Dante, or to cross Cale by manipulating the Palladium Gates, surely, they were playing with fate. Did they think they were strong enough to withstand Anit’s wrath when she caught up to them?

    Still, a question lingered in his mind: Would Tani and Dante be strong enough to survive the consequences of so much interference?

    With a shake of his head, Amu fastened his magic bag to his belt and left the serene enclave of the Bao Sentinel Branch—hoping, above all else, that no unknown power would push Tani and Dante to the brink before they could salvage what mattered most.

    ****

    Early the next morning, Dante shifted on the bed, pressing his hard length against Tani’s thigh who smiled at his arousal.

    “I can’t help it,” Dante murmured, brushing his hands along Tani’s face, and tilting his chin up. “You’ve been in my arms all night.”

    He leaned in and left a trail of soft kisses from Tani’s cheeks to his lips. Sliding his thigh between Tani’s legs, he drew a quiet moan from Tani when the pressure hit just the right spot.

    “I want you,” Dante whispered in his ear.

    Tani’s breath hitched. He slid his hand down Dante’s chest until he found the hem of Dante’s T-shirt, slipping his fingers underneath to caress bare skin. Dante arched into his touch with a low groan.

    “You have me,” Tani murmured, pressing a kiss to Dante’s shoulder.

    Dante gently rolled Tani onto his back and kissed him, sinking into the moment. He pressed his thigh against Tani’s erection, and Tani reached between them, tugging down Dante’s sweatpants to free him. Dante broke the kiss with a soft groan as Tani wrapped his fingers around his length.

    Their gazes locked when Dante’s arousal pulsed in Tani’s hand. He tried to bite back a moan but failed as Tani stroked him. It felt as though he might climax in seconds; his breathing deepened, and he suddenly felt sixteen again—ready to lose himself at a moment’s notice.

    Tani’s pace quickened, and Dante crushed their mouths together in a hungry, urgent kiss. A moment later, Dante reached between them, yanked down Tani’s sweats, and released his hardness.

    Meeting Tani’s heated stare, Dante licked his palm, then wrapped his slick fingers around Tani’s growing erection. Tani gasped, and Dante drank in every sound as he stroked them both to a swift ecstasy.

    They came almost simultaneously—Dante shuddering in Tani’s hand, his breath ragged as he buried his face against Tani’s shoulder. He sucked gently on the soft skin there, and Tani trembled under him, letting go with a cry.

    As Dante’s eyes drifted shut, a light caress on his cheek brought him back. He looked up to see a shower of gold dust falling from the ceiling.

    “We could bottle this stuff,” he whispered in Tani’s ear, making him shiver. “We’d make billions.”

    Tani drew him closer, returning the playful smile. “No need to sell it. I’ll give you all that’s mine.”

    Dante chuckled and nuzzled into Tani’s shoulder. “I want to keep you forever.”

    Tani held him tight. “Hera’s awake downstairs,” he said, voice tinged with regret. “Let’s get cleaned up, and I’ll give you a tour of the house before we meet her.”

    Dante groaned and inhaled Tani’s scent, reluctant to move away.

    “Come on, lazy bones,” Tani teased, sinking his fingers into Dante’s hair.

    ****

    Dante held Tani’s hand, their fingers intertwined as they made their way down the stairs. He was thrilled to finally see Tani’s home. Tani led him through the winding halls, explaining that Deniz’s room was on one side, while Hera’s and Uncle Amu’s suite was on another, and pointing out where Tom used to live before he moved to the fortress’s residence. The house felt full of life, and Dante’s excitement grew with every step.

    When they reached the ground floor, Tani guided him along the corridor that led to the front door. Tani paused at an arched doorway on the left.

    “This is the living room,” he said. “We spend time here when we’re all home. Deniz had us buy a television last year—she wanted to watch anime.”

    Dante followed Tani’s gesture to a cozy setup in the west corner, where a TV was surrounded by soft cushions on a plush carpet.

    “She likes to lie on the carpet,” Tani explained, “so we made that spot extra warm and comfortable.”

    “It’s a pretty spot,” Dante said. His eyes then shifted to the large windows on the east side, overlooking a yard filled with Elderwood bushes.

    The couches were arranged in sets of three or five, facing one another, leaving a circular space in the center of the room. As Dante stepped closer, his gaze fell on a striking engraving of a fox on the wood floor. The fox appeared so realistic, a vibrant red creature with nine majestic tails flaring behind it and cunning eyes that gleamed with mischief.

    “Amazing,” Dante murmured, drawing Tani’s attention to the design. “Did you craft this?”

    Tani sighed softly. “No.” He extended his right hand, and a gentle shimmer of gold light pooled in his palm as he tried to erase the engraving. When it refused to fade, Tani frowned, clearly surprised.

    Dante grinned.

    “A sly fox left it here to mark her territory,” Tani said.

    “A sly fox with more power than you,” Dante teased.

    “She’s showing off,” Tani replied, waving his index finger. He altered the fox’s fur to white, giving it large comical eyes and droopy whiskers that resembled a comical beard.

    Dante burst out laughing. “What did she do to annoy you?” he asked.

    “She made engravings on my nice wood floor,” Tani said, and led Dante out of the living room.

    As Dante turned back for one last look, he saw the fox revert to its original red fur, surrounded by a sudden flurry of apple flower petals. The petals formed two words “Seni seviyorum” lingering under the fox. They meant ‘love you’ in Turkish.

    Dante’s heart warmed at the playful display. He glanced at Tani, who dispelled the petals with a flick of his hand.

    “Your home is as interesting as Artri House,” Dante said, still chuckling.

    “I really hope you’ll keep thinking that,” Tani said leading Dante to the kitchen. “Especially once you meet everyone over breakfast.”

    It was early Friday morning, around six o’clock, and Deniz would be leaving for school at seven-thirty. Hera, already up to make breakfast, was at the sink washing grapes and pawpaw. Tom, anticipating Tani’s arrival, was at the island chopping tomatoes for a salad.

    Tani pushed the door open, grinning when Hera and Tom both turned.
    “It’s about time you came home, Babu,” Hera said in English. She noticed Dante and added, “And you brought a guest.”

    “‘Guest’ isn’t the right word,” Tani said, squeezing Dante’s hand.

    Tom smiled and gave Dante a friendly nod. “It’s good to see you again, Dante.”

    “Morning,” Dante said, waving slightly as he took in the comfortable, homey atmosphere. The warmth of the kitchen and the bustle of their preparations made Dante feel instantly welcome.

    Hera eyed him thoughtfully. “Are you Babu’s boyfriend?” she asked, her voice gentle but her intention clear.

    “Yes,” Dante answered without hesitation.

    Hera paused, setting aside the grapes. She studied him for a long moment, and Dante met her gaze calmly. Finally, she nodded and resumed washing the fruit.

    “Babu, your eyes are clearer than mine,” she said. “Where’d you find such a loyal one? And where can I get one?”

    Tani chuckled, leading Dante to the table. “You told me to let you vet my boyfriend. Here he is—and you’ve already called him loyal, so let’s just trust your judgment, Hera.”

    Tani glanced at her, then asked, “By the way, has Hakan been around?”

    “No,” Hera said, “but he visited Deniz at school. Gave her a doll, which she refused.”

    “Hm,” Tani said, considering the situation. He knew Deniz would remain loyal to her mother, especially if there was friction between Hera and Hakan. He made a note to address it soon.

    “Dante, help us with breakfast,” Hera said with a smile. Her tone was suddenly warm, as though she’d decided to accept Dante right then and there. “Would you like coffee or tea?”

    “I like tea,” Dante said.

    “You and Tom will get along,” Hera replied. “Tea glasses are over by the stove, and the electric dual teapot is plugged in on the cooker counter.”

    Dante stood and kissed Tani’s cheek before heading to the stove to set the kettle. The scent of fresh tomatoes from Tom’s chopping mingled with the sweetness of fruit and the gentle steam rising in the room.

    Dante felt at ease, comforted by their easy acceptance and the promise of a family-style breakfast.

    “How’s the conservancy?” Tani asked Tom, who had just finished slicing the tomatoes.

    “The Elderflowers died off, but not before the staff made elder liqueur. I brought a bottle if you want to try some.”

    Tani let out an amused huff. “They never miss a chance to make liquor. Who do they take after?”

    “Cale,” Hera answered with a laugh, then turned to Dante. “Speaking of which, did you see that fox on the living room floor? It’s huge, and no matter what we do, it won’t go away.”

    “You’ll have to ask my mother how to get it off,” Tani said, propping his elbows on the table.

    “I still can’t believe the house got marked by the ghost of the fortress,” Tom said.

    Curious, Dante glanced over his shoulder from the stove. “What’s the ghost of the fortress?”

    Hera handed a colander of grapes to Tani and threw a dramatic flair into her voice. “She haunts the fortress. She startles the staff with her red hair and bright green eyes, in dim hallways and the ladies’ bathroom. It gets worse when Tani’s around. We think she shows up because she misses him.”

    Dante turned a playful smile on Tani. Tani, chewing on a carrot stick, simply shook his head.

    “The more I hear about her, the more interesting she sounds,” Dante said.

    “Getting a reputation just from haunting the place,” Tani shook his head and reached for another carrot piece. To his surprise, the plate moved away, teleporting to the counter next to Dante.

    A small gust of apple flower petals danced around Dante before they disappeared.

    “Show-off,” Tani muttered, resting his hands in his lap. It was curious to him that his mother was putting on such a display in his own home. He locked eyes with Dante and pouted, watching him pop a carrot piece into his mouth.

    “I’ll go get Deniz,” Tani announced with a short laugh. “The school bus will be here soon, and she should eat before it arrives.”

    “Okay,” Hera said, returning to the fruit.

    Tani left the kitchen, a satisfied smile tugging at his lips. As soon as he was gone, Tom and Hera both turned to Dante, their expressions eager and warm, and Dante couldn’t help but grin back. He felt at home in Tani’s world, in Tani’s territory—and that feeling only made his heart race more.

    ***

    Soft golden sunlight streamed into the dining room through tall windows framed by delicate lace curtains. The long rectangle table made of dark, polished wood gleamed under the morning light, set with plates of fresh fruit, vegetables, and thinly sliced meats. Tani and Tom sat opposite Dante, letting Dante sit next to Deniz and Hera.

    Tani cherished every moment of breakfast with his family—especially Dante’s interactions with little Deniz.

    Deniz perched on a booster seat at the table’s corner, brow furrowed in serious concentration as she sorted grapes, carrot slices, and pieces of sausage on her plate. Dante sat beside her, occasionally suggesting how to space them “just so.” Tani smiled at the fire warlock’s gentleness; it was fascinating to discover this playful, tender side that made a child light up with joy.

    “Mm, these are delicious,” Dante murmured, popping a grape into his mouth and closing his eyes in an exaggerated display of bliss. He nodded appreciatively, chewing as though it was the best thing he had ever tasted.

    Deniz giggled at his performance. “Uncle Dante,” she said once he had swallowed, “you got some grape juice on your beard.”

    Dante feigned horror, placing a hand dramatically over his chest. “Oh dear, do you have a napkin? Help me wipe it off.”

    Deniz reached for the napkin next to her plate and leaned in as Dante lowered his face. She dabbed at his lips and chin with solemn focus, as though it was the most important task in the world. When she finished, she tested a fingertip on his beard.

    “It’s softer than I thought,” Deniz said, then broke into a happy laugh.

    Hera, seated on Deniz’s other side, shook her head. “Confess, munchkin. You just wanted to touch Uncle Dante’s beard.”

    “There was grape juice,” Deniz insisted, her eyes dancing with mischief.

    Dante patted her hand gently and rearranged her spoon on her plate. “Thanks for helping me wipe it off.”

    Tani’s heart warmed at their interaction. He was glad he had chosen to bring Dante to his home.

    After breakfast, Deniz insisted on Dante walking her out to the bus, so Hera followed them, carrying Deniz’s school bag. Tani stayed behind to help Tom clear the table, then hurried upstairs to change into formal clothes. It always paid to look the part when meeting a cadre of lawyers. While Uncle Amu handled the broader Elderwood conservancy network, Tani had to ensure Hera and Deniz’s security.

    Hera’s freedom was important to him. Since her family had disowned her for loving someone outside her clan’s rules, she had been under his care. With Hakan proving unreliable, Tani needed to secure the girls’ future.

    “You look handsome,” Dante said from the doorway, his voice warm and confident. It was incredible how quietly he could approach when he wanted to.

    Dante wore simple clothes: dark slacks and a fitted sweater, sleeves pushed up to show his forearms. His hair was pulled back into a neat bun, and his beard was neatly trimmed. The sight of him sent a pleasant jolt through Tani’s stomach. Here was the reincarnated soul he had loved for centuries, yet every day Tani found something new to adore.

    “You clean up so well, I’m afraid to let anyone else look at you,” Dante teased as he stepped closer. He pressed a soft kiss to Tani’s mouth, a gentle brush of lips that made Tani hum with quiet delight.

    “You know, if I don’t look the part, those lawyers won’t take me seriously,” Tani said, smiling against Dante’s lips. “Hera says I have to dazzle them first.”

    Dante chuckled and reached for Tani’s shirt cuffs, helping him fasten a silver cufflink shaped like an intricate leaf.

    “I’ll finish with the lawyers by midmorning,” Tani said, a playful promise in his voice. “Then we can go play in the forest.”

    Dante’s eyes gleamed. “I look forward to it,” he replied, smoothing Tani’s collar. He took the gray suit jacket from a nearby hanger and held it out for Tani to slide into. The soft brush of his fingertips on Tani’s shoulders sent a thrill through him.

    Once Tani was properly dressed, he turned and cupped Dante’s face with both hands. Dante leaned down just enough for Tani to claim a lingering kiss—a tender intimacy that spoke volumes about their growing bond. He felt Dante’s strong arms wrap around his waist, drawing him closer.

    “I’ll be back before you miss me,” Tani whispered, reluctantly breaking the kiss. He stroked Dante’s beard in farewell, then, with a swift rush of magic, teleported away—leaving the faint scent of forest and morning air behind.

    ***

    Amu returned home in a whirlwind of power. He materialized in the living room where Anit had left her mark. He studied the red nine-tailed fox with a shake of his head before he left the living room and headed to the kitchen.

    He could feel Hera’s energy and another more powerful mortal in the house. Amu frowned as he realized this was Tani’s beloved. It looked like their relationship had grown deeper, though this was the first time that Tani’s beloved had ventured to live in Tani’s territory. Before, the ones before, always kept Tani in their domain, their lives, their houses, and cities. It was fascinating having one of them in Tani’s world. Perhaps, Kinon knew what he was doing.

    Amu pushed open the kitchen and paused when he found Dante and Hera sitting at the kitchen table enjoying tea. Milk tea for Hera, and very strong tea for Dante. Their conversation was low but it looked cordial. Tani must have introduced them.

    “Uncle Amu,” Hera said, getting up when she saw him. “Come, I’ll pour you a cup of tea.”

    Amu listened to Hera and moved to sit at the head of the table. Dante took Amu’s hand when he offered and they shook.

    “We met briefly,” Amu said as he settled in his chair. “It was too fast.”

    “Yes,” Dante said, twirling his glass of tea. “Tani tells me you’ve taken care of him a long time. I don’t know whether to thank you for your care of him. Or let you chastise me for not taking of him.”

    “Perhaps the best thing to do is enjoy a cup of tea together,” Amu said, accepting the glass Hera placed before him. “Dante Arturo, it is not your place to give thanks or seek forgiveness for a thousand-year calamity. Fate is the only thing that will give you an answer.”

    “Well said,” Hera said, sitting down, and sipping her tea. “Did you find what you were looking for, Uncle Amu? How come Cale and Eren did not return with you?”

    “They had other business,” Amu said. “Don’t think about them. How is Deniz?”

    “She was excited to meet Dante,” Hera said. “She would only let him lead her to the school bus today.”

    “I’m glad she was happy,” Amu said. “What about you, Hera? Aren’t you going to the office today?”

    “I am,” Hera said, then glanced at the time on her phone and jumped up. “Oh, look at that. It’s almost ten o’clock. I’m meeting a group of wildlife veterinarians at ten-thirty. Uncle Amu, can I leave Dante with you?”

    “He’s a grown up,” Amu said, and grinned when she paused to look at him. “But I’ll be happy to entertain him until Tani returns from his meeting.”

    Hera nodded and turned to Dante. “I hope you’ll be around later. I like seeing Babu smile and pout. I can’t wait to hear him laugh out loud without a care.”

    “Mm, have a good meeting, and we can all have dinner later,” Dante said.

    “Sounds good,” Hera said, taking her phone. “Uncle Amu, be kind to him.”

    She hurried out of the kitchen and Amu sat back in his chair.

    Amu glanced at Dante, noting how quickly he rose to clear away their tea glasses. There was a practiced ease in Dante’s movements, along with a sense of deep courtesy. Amu noticed, too, the faint strands of goldish magic around Dante’s aura—Tani’s energy, entwined with his own. It was subtle but unmistakable.

    “She takes care of all of us, that Hera,” Amu said in a quieter tone, once Dante had rinsed their glasses and set them aside to dry. “Tani included. She’s practically a daughter to him.” He paused, letting that sink in. “Dante, I’m sure you have many questions, and Tani…he’s not always quick to give answers. He’s spent centuries guarding his pain. I keep a library here—journals, genealogies, old accounts. You might find some truths there, about your family line.” Amu leveled Dante with a meaningful look. “Would you like to spend time there while you wait for Tani?”

    Dante dried his hands on a dish towel and turned, curiosity sparking in his expression. “I would love that.”

    Amu stood, leading Dante through the hallway that connected the kitchen to more private wings of the house. Tall windows let in streams of midday sun, revealing art on the walls: delicate watercolors of fox spirits, forest landscapes, half-hidden glades that seemed to shimmer with life. The faint echo of Tani’s magic pulsed in the wood and stone—a protective, living essence.

    Dante walked beside Amu with confidence, neither timid nor overbearing. Amu found himself comparing this mortal to all the incarnations that had come before. Those men had been equally drawn to Tani’s otherworldly grace, but few ventured so boldly into Tani’s private sanctuary. Certainly not with such ease.

    When they reached a pair of large double doors carved with intricate fox and vine motifs, Amu lifted a hand. With the slightest pulse of his power, the doors swung open. The breath of centuries-old parchment rushed out, filling the corridor with the unmistakable perfume of a well-loved library.

    “The only people allowed in here are Tom and Hera. It is rare to bring others in to our sanctuary. Our stories are not easy to take in for mortals,” Amu remarked, casting Dante a sidelong glance. “But now that you’re a warlock, it makes it easier to include you. Perhaps we owe Kinon some measure of gratitude that our secrets need no longer remain hidden.”

    Dante nodded, stepping into the library. “I appreciate you trusting me.”

    Amu smiled thinly. “It’s not just trust, Dante. It’s necessity.” He gestured to the tall shelves and the reading tables lit by warm lamps. “Within these pages, you’ll find the stories of your soul’s many journeys—and Tani’s heartbreak. I’ll be around if you need me.”

    Leaving Dante at the threshold, Amu took a seat at a desk in the far corner, allowing the younger man privacy to explore. Quietly, he could sense Dante’s excitement and trepidation. Amu allowed himself a small hope that this time—this lifetime—things would end differently.

    ****

    Dante wandered among the shelves of Amu’s library, his heart pounding with anticipation. The information here promised valuable knowledge about his magic, other warlocks, and the ekho world. He paused between two shelves and glanced upward, checking the lighting. He froze at the sight of the ceiling mural.

    It depicted a stunning landscape: a floating island with waterfalls pouring down into a tranquil lake, and a citadel of white sandstone rising from a forest at the island’s center. In the middle of the lake stood a massive arched gate made of silvery metal, adorned with intricate designs and lettering. For a brief moment, Dante thought he heard the rush of wind at that gate.

    Shaking off the sensation, he refocused on the books and noticed a section marked for lineage. Element divided the topics: water, earth, wind, and fire. Under “water” was the name Rianon; under “earth,” Eren; under “wind,” Mizian; and under “fire,” Kinon. Dante saw multiple books lined up under Rianon, Eren, and Mizian, but only one large book under Kinon.

    Curious, Dante reached for it. The cover read Artri. Opening the book, he found it was a box containing several smaller volumes. Forgetting propriety, he hurried to a nearby reading desk by the window, removed the books, and placed the box aside. The first nine volumes bore variations of his name: Durante, Dante, Duante, Dane, and so on.

    Dante was familiar with most of these stories. He had dreamed them—strange visions that plagued his sleep when Tani was not beside him. He sat and opened Dane the Janissary, skimming the parts where Dane met Tani, where they protected a fortress, and where Dane married his wife, Violet, prompting Tani to leave and shut down the fortress.

    Upon reading the final page, Dante had expected to find a happy continuation of Dane’s life with Violet and their children. Instead, he discovered that Dane had died after a skirmish—stabbed in the abdomen with a halberd during a palace invasion at age thirty-six. Although the wound should have healed, a mysterious black infection spread through his body, ultimately claiming his life. Violet’s account confirmed that Dane had returned to the palace after months away, and no one could explain why the infection had proven fatal.

    Frowning, Dante turned to the next volume, which recounted the life of Duante. He, too, died under suspicious circumstances—an illness after eating apples from a market. His wife believed he had been poisoned, but no cure or culprit was ever found. Like Dane, he succumbed to the same black infection at age thirty-six, after being gone from home for months.

    Dante grabbed his phone and jotted notes. Each predecessor had died of a strange infection or injury at thirty-six, following a prolonged absence from home. The pattern made his pulse spike. He felt he was on the verge of a revelation but remained unsure of its precise nature.

    At last, he reached for the final book, titled Artri House Lineage. Its pages detailed the family’s origins under a man named Christophe Artri. A careful lineage chart traced bloodlines from century to century. In an entry from the 1800s in Andalusia, Dante noticed that Landi’s true father was recorded as Onnik Kinno, with a small note identifying him as the ekho fire god, Kinon.

    He tapped the name thoughtfully. If Landi’s power had come from Kinon, then Landi had introduced Durante’s bloodline into the Artri House by marrying a descendant of Durante. That descendant was mortal, but she bore a son and three daughters. Her son would become Christophe’s father—and Dante’s grandfather. Ultimately, Dante himself was born after Nora of Fire married Christophe the Warlock, making Dante a blood-born fire warlock.

    It seemed Kinon had tampered with his bloodline, possibly to escape the poison claiming each incarnation at thirty-six. Would the ekho fire god really be so idle? Why interfere?

    Dante closed the book and exhaled. The dreams he’d had—waking terrified at the thought of failing to find Tani—suddenly made sense. Perhaps each of his reincarnations had returned to seek Tani and found him gone. Shaking his head, Dante wondered if there was any way to break the cycle.

    He was contemplating Kinon’s determination to strengthen their house’s magik when his cellphone buzzed, startling him. Glancing at the caller ID, he saw Violet’s number. She rarely called him, so he answered at once, dread tightening in his chest.

    “Dad?” came April’s tear-filled voice.

    Dante’s breath caught. His heart thumped hard enough that he pressed a hand to his sternum, trying to steady himself. “April? Hey, sweetheart,” he said gently, feeling a swirl of excitement and sudden concern. “Are you okay?”

    “I don’t know what to do,” April admitted, her voice quivering with fear. “We went to camp, and something happened. We… we can’t find Zach. He’s lost in the forest, and the rescue team still hasn’t found him. I’m scared, Dad.”

    A hot flare of anxiety knotted Dante’s stomach. He stood abruptly, pressing the phone tight to his ear. “What?” he asked, his voice tight.

    “Mom said not to call you, that we’d get it sorted, but…” April let out a shaky sob. “I’m scared, Dad. Zach went missing last night, and there’s been no news. They’re searching the forest, but he isn’t anywhere. What do we do?”

    “April, we’ll figure this out,” Dante said firmly, though his insides churned with dread. “Put your mom on the phone for me, okay? We’ll find Zach, but I need to talk to her.”

    “But—”

    “It’s going to be all right,” Dante insisted. “We’ll find your brother, but please let me talk to your mom.”

    There was a brief shuffle, and then Violet’s voice came on the line. “Hello?”

    “What the fuck is going on?” Dante demanded, tension lacing his words. “Why is April calling me in tears? Where is Zach?”

    Violet sighed. “Dante, I told her not to call. It’s three a.m. in the morning here. Listen, you’re too far away to fly out for every crisis—”

    “Don’t stonewall me,” Dante cut in. “Tell me exactly what happened.”

    Violet cleared her throat. “April and Zach are at camp. It’s usually safe, but the kids were playing in the forest yesterday, and when it was time for dinner, Zach was nowhere to be found. The organizers are certain he’s still on the grounds. We’re all out here searching. I’ll update you when we know more.”

    Dante clenched his jaw. “April’s terrified. She wouldn’t have called if it wasn’t serious.”

    “She’s worried about her brother,” Violet said, her tone measured. “Kids do that. She thinks you fix everything. So, she called you to fix this.”

    “Well, I’m coming,” Dante said, adrenaline pumping through him. “I won’t just sit here. I’ll fly out.”

    “If you can make it, great,” Violet replied. “The kids would be happy to see you.”

    After a few more details about the rescue efforts, Dante hung up. A warm hand touched his shoulder; he turned to find Tani standing behind him with concern in his dark eyes. When Tani opened his arms, Dante stepped into his embrace, letting out a shaky breath.

    “I’ll take you,” Tani said softly. “We’ll find him.”

    “Nothing can happen to them,” Dante murmured, closing his eyes as a wave of dread threatened to swallow him.

    “Nothing will,” Tani promised, and in the next moment he teleported them out of the library, heading straight for Violet’s residence in Kirtland, Ohio.

    <<Previous | Table of Contents | Next>>

  • Blades of Ashes Ch 4-3

    Arc 1- The Case of the Forged Silver Coins

    Chapter 4-3

    Azula read the thorough report written by the Port Magistrate with a mix of awe and annoyance. The document was signed and sealed by the magistrate and Draeya General who had made a solemn promise before the magistrate to catch thieves. It legitimized Azula’s need for a legion escort to Genad City.

    Shaking his head, Azula could only admit that the general had skill in dealing with the corrupt.

    Azula turned to look at Draeya General. They stood outside the magistrate’s office. Draeya General’s officers were getting their horses ready. Draeya General stood tall waiting for his officers to get ready. His expression was calm and ready for whatever came next.

    Azula frowned when the general looked at him.

    “What?”

    “What is your name?” Azula asked. “I can’t keep calling you Draeya General.”

    “Why not?”

    “You called me Azula in the magistrate’s office. If you’re going to be helping my clan, we should know your name. Otherwise, my people won’t trust you.”

    Draeya General studied him for a minute, then stepped closer and held out his right hand to Azula. Azula gripped the report from the magistrate in his left hand and took Draeya General’s right hand in greeting.

    “Raithion Maenaer at your service. My close family calls me Raith.”

    Raithion’s handshake was unexpectedly firm. His palm had calluses, convincing Azula that he was not spoiled despite his high station in life. Damn it, so sexy!

    “Can I call you Raith?” Azula asked as he let go of Raithion’s right hand.

    Azula grinned and brought the paper he held to cover his lips.

    “No.”

    “General Maenaer?”

    “That is my father,” Raithion said. “You can call me General Raithion.”

    “General Raith,” Azula said with a happy smile making Raithion scowl. Azula ignored it and stepped closer to Raithion.

    “Let’s go to the dock. My crew is waiting. We can’t delay delivery to Genad. I’m worried something will happen to my family’s workshops if we don’t make it in time.”

    “Why can’t you meet us outside the port town? There is only one road out of the port,” Raithion said, folding his arms against his chest. “We’ll wait for you at the exit.”

    Azula’s frown deepened.

    “No way,” Azula said. “Do you want to stay on the outside, offering protection without understanding what you’re protecting? How can we trust you?”

    Raithion narrowed his gaze as he studied Azula. Then, he seemed to decide as he nodded.

    “Haedor and I will go with you,” Raithion said. “The rest of the legion will wait for us at the port exit heading to Naga State. Azula, having my legion officers crowding your dock station will make everyone nervous. I assume you’re still conducting business as usual. So, Haedor and I meeting your clan members is enough. In any case, you’re right. Visiting your ship will allow me to understand more about your operations and why anyone would come after you.”

    Azula suddenly remembered the people who were following him and Sennin. He had forgotten about those two women when he met Draeya General and was then dragged to the Magistrate’s Office by him. Looking around the busy compound, he wondered if he would catch a glimpse of them.

    “They’re not here,” Raithion said, drawing Azula’s gaze.

    “What?”

    “The two who were following you,” Raithion said. “They retreated when we entered the Magistrate’s Compound. We have not seen them since.”

    “Oh,” Azula frowned. “You saw them too?”

    “They followed you to the inn but stayed away when they saw my legion officers. I’m glad you were aware.”

    “Hm,” Azula shrugged. “A lot of people want to take our ore or tools, sometimes the wares we make. It pays to be vigilant. Then, let me take you to our ship.”

    “Alright,” Raithion started to head to his horse, but Azula shook his head.

    “You don’t need the horse,” Azula said. “We’ll walk, it’s not far.”

    “But—”

    “Come on, General Raith,” Azula said, taking Raithion’s right hand, and started leading him to the open gates. “Also, let Lieutenant Haedor let go of my friend. I need Sennin.”

    ****

    Raithion stared at the spot where Azula held his right hand as they walked along the main street of the Port City. He could not remember the last time someone had held his hand. Azula reminded him of an anxious child. Azula’s steps were energetic as he walked. He gripped the report from the magistrate in his right hand like a trophy. The smile he directed at Raithion in intervals made him want to laugh.

    “You can slow down,” Raithion said when Azula looked on the verge of breaking into a run. “I won’t run away.”

    “Really?” Azula turned to look at him, his grip on Raithion’s right hand still tight. “This is the first time legion officers are helping us with no payment. I’m nervous.”

    “Are you afraid I will run away?” Raithion asked with a chuckle, amused by Azula’s logic.

    Azula stopped in the middle of the street, forcing Raithion to a stop too. Azula stepped in close and then looked up. Suddenly, Raithion met intense hazel eyes. The noise of the street disappeared and they stood in perfect stillness.

    Azula was shorter than him but that did not deter his presence in the moment.

    “The thieves we’re chasing or evading have taken twelve of our people,” Azula said, his voice soft but full of passion. “Twelve families are mourning the loss of a breadwinner in their homes. The pain of this loss hurts us all. So, when you walk into our ship and promise to protect, we’ll take your word seriously. That’s who we are. The Sura takes the promise of protection with solemn belief. If you won’t be able to meet us on the same level, then it will be better if you walk away.”

    Azula let go of Raithion’s right hand and lifted the magistrate’s report.

    “This is nice to have for use later. But it is secondary. Right now, I need to know I can trust you with Sennin’s life, and the lives of the men who are helping me reach Genad City.”

    Raithion held Azula’s determined gaze for a minute, then his lips shifted into a small smile. It had been a long time since he met such a passionate soul. The capital city was full of people wanting to get ahead. Thieves, liars, insincere, and without gratitude, that’s what he dealt with most times. To meet such a passionate individual… was refreshing.

    Raithion took in a deep breath and let it out with a nod. He reached down and took out a dagger he kept in a hidden scabbard in his boot. Holding the smooth handle, he brought it up for Azula to see.

    “Hold it too,” Raithion said, nodding as he held Azula’s gaze.

    Azula broke their gaze to study the dagger he held, then brought his right hand to the dagger. He met Raithion’s gaze again.

    “What are we doing?”

    “Your Sura values your family,” Raithion said. “I’m a soldier first. And my oath is to protect. I will not run away or shirk my duty if you’re under my protection. This is my oath, on my blade, I will protect your people. Do you believe it?”

    Azula held his gaze for a moment longer then tightened his hold on the dagger, his callused fingers gripping Raithion’s right hand.

    “I believe you,” Azula said, then smiled, a startling curve of his lips that left Raithion stunned as Azula let go of his hand and turned away. “Let’s go, General Raith.”

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