The Druids' Legacy

by Trenna McMullin

Calistra’s hand fluttered within his own, the slight pressure likely her way of saying she was still with him. Joran laid his head on the bed next to her pillow and closed his eyes, listening to the ragged sound of her breathing. He would stay with her as long as she would let him.

  * * * * *

  Sometime later, Geri smiled gently at the sleeping siblings and covered them both with an extra blanket, putting a finger to his lips when Ky’ara walked through the door.

  Ky’ara furrowed her brows. “There he is!” she whispered, “I’ve been trying to reach him...how long has he been asleep?”

  Geri shrugged. “Only a few minutes. They’ve been through a lot...as have you. What exactly happened down there? I wasn’t there for your official report.”

  Ky’ara sighed. “I don’t even really understand it myself.” She described what had taken place, toning down the agony of opening herself to the Darkness, trying not to dwell on the pain that had torn her soul apart as she held the combined power of the crystal and the Destroyer. Geri whistled low in appreciation as she described the way the others had been willing to risk death to help her. “I still don’t know how we survived.” Ky’ara whispered.

  Geri looked surprised. “That is the one thing I do know...or at least I sort of know. Amischel did something with that talent of hers...she came to tell Calistra we needed to go find you, only Calistra had just been shot, see. I wasn’t really interested in the details, but somehow she took all that power and used her connection with the dragons to release it harmlessly back into the Dreamworld.”

  Ky’ara nodded. Somehow it made sense that Amischel would be the key to all of this.

  “What are they going to do with Il’esandra?” Geri asked after a moment of silence.

  Ky’ara set her mouth in a grim line. “She’s been executed already. I don’t think she even knew what was happening. Holding all that darkness inside for so long...it hollowed her out inside.”

  “That’s one loose end tied up, at least.” Geri said.

  Ky’ara shrugged, her face troubled.

  “You don’t think they did the right thing?”

  “I don’t know...I don’t think she was capable of hurting anyone anymore.” Ky’ara stared past him at the window.

  “You don’t have to hold all the powers of Darkness to hurt people, you know. All it takes is being human.”

  A weak chuckle from the bed drew their attention. “That may be the wisest thing I’ve ever heard you say,” Calistra murmured. She turned her head slightly and focused on Ky’ara. Emotion hung heavy in the air between them. Words hardly seemed necessary. Ky’ara walked over to the bed and gently picked up Calistra’s free hand.

  “We did it, didn’t we?” the rebel leader said softly, closing her eyes and exhaling slowly.

  “We did,” Ky’ara replied, giving her hand a light squeeze.

  “Taren—?”

  “Resting in the other room,” Ky’ara replied hurriedly, hearing the apprehension in Calistra’s voice. “After he fell asleep I came to find Joran...but apparently it’s a plague around here.”

  The corner of Calistra’s mouth quirked up into a smile, even though her eyes stayed closed. “I’m glad he’s ok.”

  Before Ky’ara could ask if she meant Joran or Taren, a healer bustled in and shooed them all out, grumbling about giving her patient adequate rest. Geri sighed heavily and shot the still sleeping Joran an envious look as he left the room. Ky’ara smiled to herself and returned to Taren’s bedside, knowing he likely wouldn’t wake anytime soon, but wanting to be with him anyways.

  * * * * *

  Hallahna stood with what remained of her people, feeling the burden of responsibility. A field of white-wrapped bodies stretched ahead of her. They had won, but it had cost them dearly. Her people in particular had shouldered the brunt of the casualties, a fact that the Elder’s Council only grudgingly acknowledged. There was a long fight ahead of them to establish their place in this new government, but for now the Shaari warriors were gathered to honor their dead.

  As the sun set before them, Hallahna raised her glaive in the air, then brought it down sharply. In unison, ten dragons breathed their flame on the funeral pyres, the fire spreading from one mound to the next until lines of fire burned into the distance. The silence was broken by the mournful keening of the dragons who had lost their bonded. As the bodies burned, one by one the dragons took to the air and winked out of sight, returning to the Dreamworld for good now that their human partners were gone.

  Hallahna let the tears run freely down her face, mourning the loss of her mentor, Asara, and countless other friends and relatives who had died under her leadership. Irakyll winged toward her and landed on her shoulder as many of the other dragons did the same with their Bonded. She thrummed mournfully, offering what comfort she could. Together, the Shaari knelt before the flames, paying their last respects. Darkness fell around them, and still the warriors knelt. The fires burned down to glowing embers. When morning came, Hallahna and her people rose, leaving the ashes of their dead behind them as they rode toward the rising sun.

  * * * * *

  Ky’ara woke groggily and sat up. She’d fallen asleep at Taren’s bedside, her head resting on the pillow next to his. She took his hand, trying to avoid looking at the scars that laced his wrists. Dwelling on what had been done to him filled her with enough fury to almost make her believe the counsel had made the right decision regarding Il’esandra. Still, a part of her wondered what the princess might have done with her life, if the Darkness hadn’t overtaken her. What she could have done with the rest of it, given a chance.

  A soft knock on the door broke into her thoughts. She looked up as Amischel came in and sat in the chair next to her own. Amischel looked at Taren’s bruised face, sympathy written across her features. The silence stretched between them for a moment.

  “Did your people ever find Jace?” Ky’ara asked, looking for something light to talk about.

  Amischel nodded.

  “And his brother?”

  Amischel shook her head slowly. “When we found Jace he was sitting in a room full of...remains. Only a few recent corpses, but the piles of bones...there had to have been hundreds. His brother may have been among them, but there is really no way to know. Why someone would keep a place like that…” She shuddered. “You did this world a great service by dealing with that monster.”

  Ky’ara closed her eyes, feeling tears fighting their way to the surface again. All those people...Whether the room had belonged to Il’esandra or Ekzhad, the blame still rested with the former. It was she who had brought the necromancer back to life. How much responsibility for such actions could Ky’ara place on the Darkness that had inhabited the princess? At what point was Il’esandra accountable for her choices? Ky’ara had faced that Darkness and managed not to kill anyone with it. Il’esandra had seemingly embraced it.

  A weight seemed to suddenly lift from Ky’ara’s shoulders, and she looked sideways at Amischel. “Thank you.”

  Amischel nodded, her expression unreadable.

  “It’s still feels unreal to you, doesn’t it?” Ky’ara asked shrewdly.

  Amischel shrugged, looking down. “After what happened with the dragons I don’t think I can still deny that I have some sort of gift...but if I’m being honest, it scares me.”

  Ky’ara furrowed her brow. “You’re afraid you’ll hurt someone with it?”

  Amischel shook her head. “No. It’s just, everyone is starting to rely on me and I still don’t really know how I do it...what if one day it just stops working?”

  “Then you can be thankful for all the good you did during the time that you had it,” Taren murmured, opening his eyes.

  Ky’ara looked over in surprise. He met her gaze, and she understood that he spoke from the heart. He had felt the same fear after having lost his Keeper abilities. She smiled and he squeezed her hand reassuringly, then sat up with a groan.

  Amischel smiled and placed a hand gently on his arm.
“Thank you for the advice. I’ll leave you two to speak.”

  She closed the door behind her, but Ky’ara was too caught up in Taren’s face. He’d hardly been awake for more than a minute at a time since they’d rescued him. Healing magic had done a lot for his wounds, but his own body still supplied a lot of the energy. The healers had told her to let him sleep as long as he could.

  “How are you feeling?” she asked.

  Taren smiled crookedly, “Physically? A little less than perfect. Emotionally? I couldn’t be better, I’m with you.”

  She smiled. “Let’s keep it that way for a long time.”

  He pulled her to him, wincing a little at the pain it caused his shoulders. Ky'ara gave him a worried frown. "Do you want me to take a look? I might be able to do more, now that I've rested some." Earlier she had tried to lend the healers some of her ordinarily endless supply of power, since they were all running low after the battle. But the battle with Il’esandra and keeping all that power at bay had apparently taken its toll on her. She could barely heal a scratch, let alone the kinds of wounds Taren had sustained.

  "Maybe later," Taren murmured, stroking her hair. She relaxed, resting her head against his chest and relishing the feeling of his arms around her. This was where she was meant to be.

  Epilogue: Seasons Turn

  Leaves drifted aimlessly in the wind, the brisk autumn breeze carrying with it the promise of winter. Ky'ara stood on the balcony and watched the little wisps of vibrant scarlet and gold as they swirled first one way and then another. Sometimes she felt like those leaves—directionless, carried from moment to moment by the whims of some unknown force. Life was different now, without the Darkness dragging the world towards unspeakable peril. She’d lost her ability to twist things in her favor, along with the bulk of her magic. The organization’s mages weren’t certain why, but they theorized that her power had been what compensated for the difference in strength between the Darkness and the power within the crystal. Her Link to Joran had disappeared as well, overloaded by the power they’d held together before Lauryn had passed it off to Amischel and the dragons.

  The sacrifice was worth it. The world was a brighter place. There was still suffering, of course. Like Geri had said to her all those months ago, humans hurt each other plenty without the added influence of the Destroyer. All it took was a little stress over the potential food shortages an interrupted growing season had brought, and people were perfectly willing to turn against each other for their own selfish interests.

  "What's got you so down?" Taren asked, coming to her side and handing her a steaming mug of cider. His hands shook a little, a side effect of the trauma he endured. She grabbed the cup from him before it splashed her, then smiled and pulled a leaf from his hair. He'd been harvesting apples all day, and hadn't bothered to bathe before running them through the press and heating her a cup.

  "Just mulling over some problems we're addressing at the Council meeting tomorrow, that's all,” she said lightly, returning to her contemplation of the landscape.

  Taren stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, tucking his chin against her head. "Still trying to save the world, aren't you? Isn't that Geri's job now?"

  Ky'ara snorted. "Just because he was elected Overseer doesn't mean he runs everything...the representatives voice their opinions and the Council puts everything to a vote. It's up to all of us to find solutions, regardless of Geri's title."

  "Do you think Calistra has to put up with him working when he's supposed to be spending time with her?" Taren teased, turning her towards him and cocking an eyebrow. Ky'ara gave him an exasperated look. "I'm not working, just... thinking."

  "About work." Taren pointed out. She smiled and shrugged helplessly. "And to answer your question, Calistra probably comes up with half the ideas Geri presents. He probably begs her not to talk about work."

  There were some who questioned whether Calistra had in fact manipulated things to put Geri in charge, when it became apparent that her health would not allow the long hours and stress a government position would require. Ky'ara knew better. Calistra had been just as shocked as the rest of them when Geri had announced his candidacy. Of course, after the fact Ky'ara had realized she shouldn't be so surprised. He'd always been competitive when they were in school together, and he was a natural fit as someone with ties to both the capital and the rebels. The common people could get behind him, and he still had a number of friends among the nobles.

  "Speaking of Calistra," Ky'ara said as a thought occurred to her, "Joran was wondering if you could help build a ramp leading into their house. He has a hard time getting her up and down the steps in her chair, and Lauryn says her insistence on walking up them has made her overdo it lately."

  "Of course," Taren said, "I'm happy to help."

  Ky'ara smiled and turned back to look at the leaves again. "That's what I love about you, you know. You're always willing to help."

  "Like right now, I'm going to be helpful and pull you inside to warm up, before you catch a cold," Taren teased.

  Ky'ara waved him off. "You go ahead, get the fire started in our room. I'll be in in a minute."

  Taren kissed her forehead and gave her a pointed look, "Don't take too long. It's getting dark."

  Ky'ara nodded, gripping his hand reassuringly and then letting his fingers slip away as he went inside. Life was different now, and yet somehow it was everything she had hoped it would be, when as a child she'd stood on this very balcony and dreamed of making a difference as a member of the King’s Council. Of course, the council she served on now was vastly different. The King and his family had been exiled to a remote villa in the country, a generous living provided by the revenue brought in by the university the new government had founded in the old palace. The Council had deemed it wise to keep them in comfort, provided they relinquished all claims to the throne from now into perpetuity.

  The other noble families had been similarly relieved of their titles but allowed to keep their lands and homes, provided they offered fair wages to those who worked for them. Everyone had the opportunity to run for office, but somehow the majority of Council members were still either former nobles or leaders in the rebellion. It made for lively debate. Despite that, it seemed to be working. This winter would be difficult, but they’d get through it. Magic couldn’t create food directly, but there were some promising theories on using magic to provide the light and heat needed to grow things.

  All in all, life was good.

  She turned to go back inside, the warmth of the house beckoned to her invitingly. Ky’ara stepped into the light and closed the door behind her, leaving the darkness behind. Taren would be waiting for her. She smiled.

  * * * * *

  Here ends the Crystal Trilogy

  About The Author

  Trenna McMullin

  Trenna McMullin was raised in the beautiful Flathead Valley of Montana and spent her childhood enjoying the outdoors. She began reading at a young age and her love of books quickly transformed into a love of writing. She graduated from BYU-Idaho with a bachelor's degree in University Studies, including a minor in Elementary Education and clusters in European History and French. Now she lives in Columbia Falls, MT with her husband Michael and five children.