by Kyra Dune
Chapter Thirty-Four
The sun peeked through the cottony clouds, painting the blue-green water with silver sparkles. A fresh breeze stirred Micayta’s hair around her shoulders as she gazed out at the sea. She’d finally made it. At long last, she was standing barefoot with her toes buried in pale-colored sand.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?”
Micayta smiled. “More than beautiful. A miracle.”
Tech laughed. “A miracle of your own making.”
She fingered the pouch hanging around her neck, where the sphere was safely tucked away. “I only hope it keeps getting better.”
“It will. This world may never be able to go all the way back to what it once was, but it can come close.”
“I hope so.” She gazed down the length of the beach, where Pytaki was sitting by himself. “You know, I used to hope my mother never made it this far, that she died without ever seeing all this.” She laughed. “That must sound terrible.”
“Do you still feel that way?”
She sighed. “I don’t know.” She turned to look at him. “Do you think you can ever get over the past?”
“No,” he said, “but I do believe you can find a way to accept it, so that it doesn’t become everything you are.”
Micayta pulled her dagger from its sheath. She’d kept it always with her for the last eleven years, using it as an excuse to hide, to refuse anyone access to her heart. She’d built a life around that dagger and all that it symbolized to her, giving a single moment in time the power to be all that she was.
She hefted the dagger in her hand, feeling once more its familiar weight, and then let it fly. It tumbled end over end, flashing in the sunlight, before disappearing beneath the water.
Tech smiled. “So, now that you’re a fearless dragon slayer and the savior of an entire world, what do you plan to do next?”
Micayta stared out at the gently lapping waves. “I’d like to be happy for a change. I’d like to feel safe.”
“You are safe,” Tech said, sliding his arm around her waist. “Happy, we can work on. We have all the time in the world.”