The Final Calling

by Angela Colsin

  While Ulric called a response, she crossed closer to where her friends were standing, and Dra'Kai lowered his head, inspecting them all with one slitted pupil. It was strange to be looked at so closely by a creature with an eye the size of her entire body, but Edith was also relieved. Dra'Kai's presence ensured there would be no further attacks—not that she still believed they had anything to fear from the Dok'aal and their mysterious companion.

  Instead, the Brute's attack coinciding with their arrival seemed to be nothing more than happenstance.

  But whatever they truly wanted could wait. For now, the more pressing issue was Dra'Kai, and she paid full attention when he gave Ulric a response, then addressed her directly—in the Arcane Language.

  “You are a mage seeking to possess a claw?”

  His words were deep and garbled, but clear enough to be understandable, at least, to Edith. Only mages could comprehend the mystical language as it wasn't exactly a set of different words, but spoken and written with a magical encoding, leaving everyone else in the dark over his question.

  Still, Edith decided it was better not to make the dragon wait while she translated, and answered in the same tongue, grateful it only cost a minor amount of magic to accomplish.

  “Yes, I'm on my Calling, and I have a boon to offer in return for it, one I'll grant as soon as I have my staff.”

  Dra'Kai lifted his head, sounding extremely curious when he inquired, “What is this boon, little mage?”

  Edith smiled. “Something you'd probably wanna show off to your siblings … ”

  “What the hell are they saying?”

  Ulric shrugged over Isaac's inquiry, just as lost as the rest of them. But whatever Edith was saying seemed to have the Great Dragon extremely intrigued.

  Isaac had to assume that was a good sign because, after a brief exchange, Dra'Kai lifted his front leg to bite one of his large claws off a finger, then placed it next to Edith on the ground.

  With a wide grin, she promised something to the dragon in the same tongue, but then added in English, “By the way, your accent is perfect.”

  At that, Dra'Kai actually guffawed in amusement. “I look forward to your return, little mage. Nefilias will surely be envious.”

  With heavy footfalls, the dragon walked away from the group and his temple, his feet pounding the earth and massive wings spreading to take to the air.

  As his large figure swiftly faded from view into the misty night, Isaac finally asked Edith, “What was that all about?”

  Placing her hands on Dra'Kai's claw to store it in her cache, Edith answered with a grin, “I told him that in exchange for a claw, I'd come back once I had my staff and enchant his platinum to make it blue.”

  “Blue platinum?”

  “Yep,” she nodded, standing straight once her claw was stored away.

  “Why'd you offer that? Or anything at all?”

  “Because Ulric told me Dra'Kai would give me a claw if he thought I was worthy, but I didn't wanna take chances. So I figured, since dragons are acquisitive, I should bargain with him, and started asking questions in Nalona to learn what he'd like to have. As it turns out, his brother, Nefilias, has red gold he throws in his sibling's faces. So Dra'Kai was happy to accept.”

  Grinning, Ulric remarked, “Thinking like a draconian. I'm impressed.”

  “I try,” Edith beamed happily.

  Proud of his mate's ingenuity, Isaac parted his lips to offer praise. But when he noticed her gaze curiously traveling to the cloaked woman standing behind him, he stopped in favor of finally opening that can of worms.

  “Okay,” he started, turning to face her. “Who the fuck are you, and why'd you … ”

  Isaac trailed when the woman reached up and removed her hood, revealing short, curly black hair and fiery eyes—just like his. In fact, with her high cheekbones and narrow nose, she almost looked like a female version of himself.

  But even more surprisingly, she seemed familiar.

  It was an utterly foreign sensation, one Isaac had never experienced in the seven centuries he could actually recall. It was so strong, in fact, that he nearly muttered without thinking I know you … .

  But the woman introduced herself before he had the chance. “The Dok'aal call me Lia, but my full name is Dalia Persias. I'm the youngest child of Emperor Rigyl and Empress Esra.”

  “The youngest … ,” Isaac trailed, his brows narrowing. “Wait, what?”

  Without mincing words, she supplied, “We're siblings by blood, but my survival was kept secret because of Rothario.”

  For once, Isaac had no idea what to say. He'd never considered the possibility that someone from Alder's family had actually survived, and wasn't prepared for what it might mean.

  But repeating her name in his head, he could almost hear voices from his past in memories long lost—and the voices were his.

  How innocent could I be when I failed to protect them? Not even Dalia survived.

  Accompanying those words was a heavy sense of shame, and the memory of a sharp, agonizing pain stabbing into his head caused Isaac to flinch as if experiencing it physically.

  The sensation had him as disoriented as he'd been after awakening in the Pit. There, Isaac had simply come to with no idea why he was in such a hellhole, and he'd given up trying to recall it long before arriving in Terra.

  So these resurfacing memories were not only jarring, they were unwelcome.

  Thankfully, his friends weren't as confused in that moment, Ulric being the first to mention, “How did you survive? I was told Dok'aal warriors killed everyone, the Imperial Family and their servants.”

  Dalia sighed. “Let's just say I barely survived, and save the rest for somewhere private, like your home in Nalona.”

  As she spoke, Isaac finally snapped out of his stupor by realizing a simple truth; Dalia's survival didn't actually mean anything to him. He wasn't Alder, never would be, and shrugged in answer to her suggestion.

  “I'd be glad just to get out of the fucking rain. Yules, where's that travel sphere?”

  “At the temple's gate,” Ulric pointed out.

  Hearing this, Dalia directed Auric to rejoin the others with Vulen, suggesting they had a small party waiting somewhere nearby. But Isaac ignored them, grasping Edith's hand as he headed for the sphere.

  Using it to trigger a teleportation back to Nalona's market, they arrived just moments before Ulric, Charlotte, and Dalia. Yet, knowing the demoness could teleport, Isaac took Edith home without waiting.

  Once they materialized in the living room of Ulric's family home, he attempted to shake off this newest discovery about his past by mentioning to his mate, “So, you got your claw, and the Brute was slaughtered in a gratifying display of gore. I think we should celebrate.”

  Yet Edith frowned as he embraced her. “What about your sister? Shouldn't we find out why she's here?”

  Just as her question was out, their companions arrived, and Isaac grumbled under his breath, glancing at Dalia.

  The demoness was looking around the home as if impressed, but he had no interest in hearing whatever she wanted to say, releasing Edith with the words, “You go ahead. I'll be upstairs.”

  Confused, she looked between them, asking, “Why?”

  “Because, angel,” he started plainly, “I don't have a fucking sister.”

  Then he teleported out of the room.

  Twenty-Six

  • • •

  “At least he's honest. It actually reminds me of Alder.”

  Edith stared after Isaac uncertainly while Dalia made the comparison. She wondered if that meant Isaac was more like his former self than he realized, but questions about the Perosian prince could wait.

  First, she wanted to know the reason for Isaac's reaction, and the only person present who might have a decent answer was Ulric.

  So she asked the draconian, “Any idea's what's bothering him?”

  Taking a seat on a chaise sofa at the center of the room, Ulric answered, “A fe
w, but mostly, Isaac's always spurned his past before the Pit, always insisted he's not Alder, and Dalia's probably testing his authority on his identity.”

  That sounded plausible—Edith recalled Isaac's response to her own inquiry going much the same way. He'd denied any ties to the life of a prince, and at the time, she'd simply believed he looked at Alder as a separate person and didn't think the matter warranted much discussion.

  But now, she needed to know more, asking, “But why does he spurn it?”

  Ulric seemed to think it over as if wanting to get the words right, then stated, “Whenever someone learned about Isaac's past, specifically his royal birth, they acted like he was crazy for not wanting to return to that life. I've even seen women give him the cold shoulder, then turn around and act as if he were the only man in the world as soon as they heard the word prince. So he doesn't want to give it any meaning that would take away from the man he is now.”

  The thought of another woman showing Isaac any interest, especially if she'd initially disdained him for being a nobody fugitive, nearly overwhelmed Edith with jealous anger. But she pushed it away to focus on Ulric's explanation, which made a lot of sense.

  Isaac spent centuries with no inkling of the man he'd been before, and built an entirely new identity before ever even hearing the name Alder. So it had to be grating for people to act as if the man he was now didn't matter as much as the one he couldn't recall.

  Even Edith had reacted to learning of his royal pedigree as if it held significant meaning—and the thought made her flinch. I need to make sure he knows I like him exactly the way he is.

  But Dalia's sigh drew her attention, and she watched the demoness gazing downward with a morose expression, suggesting she truly cared about her brother and what he'd been through regardless of who he was.

  Such concern was telling, and though Dalia was a stranger, Edith knew she couldn't let her go until Isaac had spoken with her at least once, even as the demoness stated, “If Isaac doesn't want me here, I'll leave. But I sought you out tonight because I know about the prophecy, Edith, and I want to offer support. I may also be able to pass on information about Rothario if it's needed.”

  “Oh, I'm sure it will be when the time comes,” Edith began. “But first, tell me some basics about yourself and what you expect from Isaac so I can try to convince him to come down and hear it for himself.”

  Dalia didn't hesitate with her agreement. “Very well. As far as Isaac's concerned, I didn't know what to expect. I've wanted to see him again, yes, but not for a family reunion. Whatever traces of Alder still exist in his mind would be minute, and I know he's not the same person anymore.”

  Edith nodded, asking the next most obvious question, “How did you even know he was still alive?”

  “I'd rather explain that to Isaac. But I can say that ever since my family was killed, I've been living with a Dok'aal clan in Ithelyon, and you've probably already guessed it was Asasha and Briye who told me about you.”

  “I had a feeling,” Edith confirmed. “But Isaac didn't trust Asasha with our names, so how did you know who we were or where to look?”

  “Because Asasha's family worked in the Imperial Palace when she was a child, and she recognized Alder's face. So when she heard you mentioning a need for a minotaur's horn for your staff, she knew you had to be the enchantress the prophecy mentioned. The rest was just a matter of searching for someone with your description, and you'd be surprised how few redheaded humans are hanging out in major draconian cities like Nalona.”

  Though her explanation made sense, Edith groaned in dismay. If Dalia could locate her so quickly, what was stopping Rothario? Or perhaps the Brute's attack that night was evidence that he already had.

  Whatever the case, questions regarding Rothario could wait until Edith convinced Isaac to speak with Dalia himself.

  “Okay, I think that's enough to work with. So, mind hanging out here for a while? It might take some time to persuade him to come down.”

  Dalia smiled in a manner that was hauntingly similar to Isaac's typically self assured expressions, and informed her, “I'm not going anywhere.”

  Glad to hear it, Edith smiled and hurried upstairs without teleporting to save magic, and entered the guestroom. There, she found Isaac leaning against the windowpane, staring out at the duel moons in Ithelyon's sky.

  Though his back was facing her, he remarked as if he'd heard her approaching, “Yules never told me this place has two moons.”

  Coming to stand beside him, Edith gazed heavenward with a smile. “Mias and Mia.”

  “What?”

  “That's their names. Chandra told me a story about their creation and the deities connected to them, blah blah.” Turning her attention to Isaac, she mentioned, “But I never took you for the type who liked to stargaze.”

  He thought about that for a moment, then shrugged. “Used to be, after I came to Terra. In the Pit, you couldn't see any stars, and that was the first difference I noticed between the worlds. A blue sky during the day, and stars at night. It was weird. Nice, but weird.”

  “What's it like in the Pit?”

  “Tones of crimson day and night, like a thick haze obscuring everything, even the sun. So sometimes I look up and think about shit.”

  Edith smiled at his description. “Yeah? What kind of shit?”

  “Whatever comes to mind.”

  Nodding, she glanced back up at the sky, then suggested hopefully, “So right about now, you must be thinking about Dalia and how you'd really like to go talk to her.”

  As if knowing she was actually issuing a request, Isaac groaned. “Why? So she can tell me who I used to be and how much she wished I was the same guy?”

  His question proved Ulric right. Isaac didn't want to be compared or possibly overshadowed. So she quickly explained, “No, Dalia's not expecting a reunion. She said she'll leave if you don't want her here, but she wants to support me and offer us information on Rothario.”

  Edith continued to repeat everything the demoness had said, and Isaac listened intently. But once she was done, he stood straight and walked away from the window, muttering, “Okay, but do we have to talk about this now?”

  Confused, Edith followed him across the room, asking, “What's the big deal, Isaac? I know you're not reluctant to get information on Rothario, so why are you resisting? Are you afraid she'll start telling stories?”

  Coming to a stop at the dresser, he grumbled in irritation, then finally faced her and stated, “Maybe. I've always been told shit about Alder like I'm supposed to adapt that knowledge, or just give a flying fuck. But I'm not who I was before, and my fucks have already flown.”

  “Okay, but just because Dalia was Alder's sister doesn't mean she can't be yours, too.”

  “She's not,” he snapped seriously, then turned away from her and shoved his fingers through his hair in agitation.

  In the process, he muttered something below his breath about still not knowing who he was, giving the distinct impression that there was much more to this he wasn't saying.

  So, in coming to stand behind him, Edith placed a gentle hand on his arm and inquired, “Isaac, what's really wrong?”

  At that, his head drooped forward, making her think he wasn't going to answer. Yet he finally confessed, “I knew her, Edith. I fucking knew her.”

  “What?”

  He nodded. “I've never felt that way before, never met someone familiar. But something about her name, her face, the way she spoke, it just clicked.”

  Edith frowned. Such familiarity had to be extremely disorienting after so long without recognizing anything, and she tried to think of the most rational explanation possible, supplying, “Dalia said there might be minute traces of Alder left in your head, so maybe you've never felt that way because you've never met anyone from his life.”

  “Yeah, and what happens when I talk to her again? Will more come back?” Growling, he added on a tone of voice that made Edith's chest tighten, “I fucking can't … ”


  Seeing Isaac so distraught, even vulnerable, was both heartbreaking and strange. It was so unlike the confident man she was coming to know, but she also knew he'd never been faced with his past directly. So it wasn't surprising.

  Instead, all Edith wanted was to find some way of alleviating his troubles, asking gently, “You can't what, Isaac?”

  Without warning, he turned around and grabbed her, burying his face against her neck—and he was shaking.

  “I wanted to … he wanted to die for failing his family, Edith. For failing her,” The more he spoke, the more angry and confused he became. “And when I looked at her, it was like I fucking let her down, but … it wasn't me!”

  Edith threaded her fingers through his hair, holding him right where he was while murmuring against his ear, “Don't say anymore. I understand, and I'm not going anywhere.”

  Isaac squeezed her tighter, like he couldn't get close enough, and she shut her eyes, rubbing her cheek against his before pressing a gentle kiss to it with her promise.

  No matter what came, it was a promise she intended to keep.

  Twenty-Seven

  • • •

  Isaac had no idea how to deal with the emotions roiling in the pit of his stomach, nor did he know if they were even his. Dalia's arrival had definitely stirred up some vague pieces of Alder still rattling around in his mind, pieces he hadn't known existed, and though there was no chance of recovering that identity, he had no idea if those remnants might change him.

  Maybe it was a strange thing to fear, but Isaac feared it, all because he didn't want to lose Edith—and everything about her was frightening. From his intensity of desire for her, to the thought of losing her.

  A life without Edith simply wouldn't be worth the time.

  She was the one thing keeping Isaac grounded. No matter how conflicted his emotions became, he knew for damned certain his feelings for Edith were his alone. As she consoled him, he was so grateful for her presence it felt as if his heart would burst, which led to what he considered a very serious question.