by Jenny McKane
Then, she remembered. It had been when she was being held captive by Skyresh and the rebels. Years ago. They had been travelling to the Jarle safe house. She had spotted the ruins of a temple on the other side, and he had taken her there. It had been the first time that she had a vision of the Goddess and her family, although they had appeared in her dreams all her life.
Could she find it now? Those ruins? She led the animals further upstream, searching.
Yes. There they were. The blackened ruins of the temple, burned to the ground when the Jarle had first invaded the realm. She studied them, carefully, then made her way across the stream to walk amongst them. Hansa stayed by her side.
She had pictured how the temple had once been in that vision. She had been overcome and fallen to her knees. When she had opened her eyes, Skyresh had been there. Concerned for her. They had not trusted each other then. She had still been an enemy agent, a highly trained Grey Guard on her very first mission, but still the connection between them had sparkled and crackled like a bolt of lightning.
She sank to her knees, now, in the ruins. Was her whole life going to be like this? Remembering him. Aching for him. The loss was like a great gaping hole in her heart. It would never be able to be filled.
She closed her eyes, and a single tear fell down her face. Yes, she could feel the Goddess here, just like she had that time long ago. She had tried to talk herself out of it then. She had denied that the Goddess even existed. She had brushed off her vision, telling herself it was altitude sickness.
He had known better, of course. Just like he always had. That was one thing that she had always admired about him – the strength and clarity of his purpose. He never wavered in his belief and his passion for the cause.
If only. If only she hadn’t turned away from him and sent him into the arms of Minna. Things still would have happened as they did, but at least they would have had some time together. To acknowledge the deep love between them. To laugh and love; to simply be a man and a woman rather than a rebel leader and a queen.
Too late now. Too late for everything. The war had been won, but they had both sacrificed so, so much.
The Goddess was there before her, shimmering in an aura of light.
And then her mother, Aliza, stepped out from behind her, holding the hand of her grandmother. Her name had been Freya, and she had fought to save her when she had just been a baby. They smiled at her, gazing at her with love.
“You have done it, Avalon,” said her mother. “You have reclaimed Masgata in our honor.”
“You are the most powerful queen of the realm,” said her grandmother, nodding.
And then another figure stepped out. A young woman with long, black hair. Avalon gasped, gazing at her. It was Disella.
“You redeemed me, sister,” she whispered. “You sent me to the light. And the one that you mourn is so close to you now…”
She slowly opened her eyes. He was standing in front of her. He wasn’t smiling. His blue eyes were as vivid as they had always been. She studied his long brown hair, tied back over the shaved sides. The circular blue tattoos, fading now, on his neck.
She knew that he wasn’t real, of course. He was simply a vision.
“Avalon.”
His voice was deeper than usual in a vision. She stood up, walking slowly toward him. He seemed so real. Against her will, her arm rose, and she reached out to touch him. She knew that her hand would close on empty air.
Except that it didn’t. Her hand rested on flesh and blood.
She gazed down at her hand, still not believing. And yet…his skin. She watched it prickle, the hairs raised, as she stroked it. A sweet yearning overcame her, so strong that she cried out.
“Avalon.” He reached out, holding her by the shoulders. She actually felt his touch! “Avalon, I am here. I am real, Avalon.”
Her eyes widened. He looked real. She could see the dark shadows beneath those blue, blue eyes.
“Skyresh?” she whispered, not daring to believe.
“Yes,” he whispered back, drawing her towards him.
He put his hands to her face, trailing his fingers over it. He just touched her, as if in greeting. She felt his fingers trace the planes of her cheekbones and her forehead. The bridge of her nose. They swept over her full lips and then stopped. He leaned forward, kissing her eyelids—one by one—gently.
“You are real?” she breathed. “You are alive? How can this be?”
“I barely know myself,” he said, gazing at her in wonder. “After I was taken by the Jarle, they left me to rot, tied up in a field. They tried to kill me. They hit me on the head, so hard. A farmer found me and took me back to his house. I woke there, only a week ago, but I couldn’t remember anything.” He paused. “I was in a coma, all that time. Slowly, it started to come back to me. It was only yesterday that I remembered everything.”
“But how are you here?” she breathed, staring at him.
“I saw you riding through a village,” he said. “I was just about to set out for the Palace after they told me that it was liberated. To find you. Then I saw you. The villagers told me that you were heading north, and I found a horse and rode like the wind to catch up to you. You were so quick and riding so hard, but you stopped by this stream…and here I am.”
“You found me,” she breathed.
“I found you,” he whispered. “Just like I always have—and always will.”
He pulled her towards him, and they kissed slowly. It was the sweetest kiss that Avalon had ever tasted.
“You did it,” he whispered, his lips on her hair. “You liberated the realm. You are the true queen. I am so proud of you.”
Her eyes glittered with tears. “Skyresh, we liberated the realm together. You know that I could never have done it without you. This is your victory, as much as it is mine.”
“It is our victory,” he whispered. “My queen. My love.” He got down on one knee, gazing up at her. “Avalon, I cannot stand it anymore. So many wasted years—where you should have been at my side. I don’t care anymore, who I hurt in the process. You must know it is you whom I have always loved since the moment I first saw you, hiding in that tree trunk.”
She nodded slowly. “Yes. As I have always loved you, although I was too stupid to admit it. Too torn. Too proud.” She took a deep breath. “There is no one to hurt anymore, Skyresh. Everard and Minna are formally committing, very soon. It was love at first sight with them.”
His eyes widened. “I suspected,” he said slowly. “She wasn’t acting normally after we got out of the house. I saw the looks that passed between them. Can I tell you that I was relieved? That all I could think was that it was paving the way to you?”
She swallowed—so overcome with emotion that she could barely speak.
“You have come back from the dead,” she whispered eventually. “We have wasted too many years, as you said. I am sick of it too, Skyresh. I am yours forever.”
He let out a cry of joy, gathering her up in his arms and twirling her like a doll. Hansa started howling, and Sidsel let out a loud whinny. He put her down slowly.
“In this sacred space of the Goddess,” he whispered. “I pledge myself to you, Avalon. I pledge myself to you, body and soul. To my queen and to my woman.”
“And I pledge myself to you,” she whispered back. “The only man for me.”
They kissed again, and then they held hands, walking slowly out of the ruins.
She had found him, as she had vowed, and he had found her, as he always did.
It was getting dark. The sun was setting behind the Mountains, sending streams of pink and gold into the sky. Snowflakes started to drift down, landing on the two figures, treading softly over the earth, hand in hand. Forever.
THE END
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