by Aaron Yeager
Athel squeezed Alder’s hand tightly and they focused on what Deutzia was saying. They knew there was much difficulty that still lay ahead of them, many questions that needed answering, and many battles to be fought. They knew that no matter what obstacles lay ahead, they would face them...together.
Epilogue
That Which Is Lost
It only took one year before I forgot what your hair smelled like, Dev’in thought to himself as he sat quietly in his pit of black shakes. Does that make me a bad husband? Only one year and that part of you had already disappeared. After four I could no longer recall the shape of your nose, and after twenty your face was lost to me.
Today is the anniversary of the day you were taken from me. One thousand and eleven years, and I cannot recall the touch of your hand, or the light in your eyes, but I still remember the promise I made to you. You would hate me if you saw me now. I have become...a monster, but I will still fulfill my oath to you. I will still create a world without hate.
Dev’in reached down and swirled the black tar around him. This new young body moved quickly and without resistance, and he flexed his fingers, trying to get used to the feel of it. Only his gray eyes belied his age.
The doors opened at one end and Marc walked in, the bright colors of his feathers peeking out from the edges in his robes. “I have final confirmation,” he said quietly, “your daughter is dead.”
Dev’in sat, his dull eyes staring distantly into the black liquid.
She deserved a father, and all she got was me instead.
“What of the Treesinger?” Dev’in asked hoarsely.
“The Dreadnaught has gone into hiding and dropped off the map,” Marc responded. “I have some of our best people working on it.”
“Pull them off it.”
“Sir?”
“Tell the admirals to begin amassing the fleets at Stretis. There will be plenty of Treesingers to choose from once their homeland is conquered. Tomorrow, we will begin the war against their island.”
* * *
Spirea’s quarters in the Dreadnaught had been cleaned and organized. Pots of fresh flowers from many different islands lined the shelves. Sumac's pot, lovingly fertilized, sat at the foot of the bunk while Spirea lay sleeping. Around her neck hung a golden-toothed necklace from Hoeth, as well as the Eye of the Storm. On her bookcase had been placed message scrolls carrying the royal seal, declaring her rights of succession to the Stretis throne. Next to it, a dark-wood pistol case with silver-vine filigree.
From the decks above came voices of happy congratulations and the beautiful tones of a wedding march played on a Zithero. The ship rocked lazily from side to side as the mooring lines were loosed and the ship was prepared to sail.
Spirea stirred restlessly, lips parting to draw in breath and hands shaking in pain. Her back arched and her legs kicked out, knocking Sumac's pot over.
Spirea’s eyes shot open, black and silver clouds swirling around inside of them.
To be continued in Isle of Wysteria: The Reluctant Queen...
About the Author
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I come from a family of ballet dancers. (I know, right?) My parents actually met dancing at Ballet West together. So, the first few years of my life were spent backstage at productions like CATS, Dreamgirls, and A Chorus Line, where I developed a lifelong aversion to stage makeup. My parents even appeared in a few movies and TV shows, like Girls Just Wanna have fun, and the Tracy Ullman show, but that is about as much namedropping as I can currently muster. I spent two years living in Argentina as a missionary, where I became addicted to mayonnaise, and developed a crippling fear of small dogs. In college I studied aviation, and was well on my way to becoming a commercial airline pilot when I suddenly developed a rare illness that left me with severe heart damage. Bedridden for about a year, I began writing, as it was one of the few things I could do. I spent the next decade writing books and taking care of my kids while my wife worked, waiting for that letter to come in the mail which never came. (Should have written about sparkly vampires instead) When my son Stephen passed away in July of 2012, I decided that I was going to dedicate my first book to him, and I wasn't going to wait for anyone's permission to be published anymore. I was going to do it myself.
Dedicated to Stephen
8/7/2003-7/3/2012
Table Of Image Credits:
Chapter 2 Artwork Image courtesy of foto76 / FreeDigitalPhotos.net
Chapter 4 Artwork Image courtesy of JuanGnecco / FreeDigitalPhotos.net
Chapter 16 Artwork Image courtesy of papaija2008 / FreeDigitalPhotos.net
Chapter 17 Artwork Image courtesy of papaija2008 / FreeDigitalPhotos.net
Chapter 18 Artwork Image courtesy of StuartMiles / FreeDigitalPhotos.net
Chapter 23 Artwork Image courtesy of Wiangya / FreeDigitalPhotos.net
Chapter 24 Artwork Image courtesy of Exsodus / FreeDigitalPhotos.net
Chapter 32 Artwork Image courtesy of Arvind Balaraman / FreeDigitalPhotos.net