by C. M. Hayden
The Sun King peaked over Kyra’s shoulder at the small army she’d brought with her. He laughed out loud when he saw it. “Kyra, you’re truly my daughter through and through.” He kissed her on the forehead.
Ven’s father approached the Sun King. “Your Majesty, permission to secure the tower?”
“Please do,” the Sun King said.
_____
The searches for Nima seemed unending, and the Sun King was quick to offer resources toward finding her, but after months of searching Taro began to accept that even if she was alive, Halric could’ve sent her anywhere in the world.
As the months passed the city only grew more beautiful. The Arclight scoured the city of the Corruption and cold. Farmers returned to their land, fishers to the lakes surrounding the city, and life slowly returned to normal in the eternally-daytime countryside.
Word of Vexis’ duplicity spread (Leorin was especially helpful in this regard) but many viewed her as a hero regardless. Still, the hostility to the Magisterium was a dim memory. People had jobs to perform, crops to till, and lives to lead.
It didn’t take long for life in the Magisterium to return to normal. The artificers had been promised extra work credits and two nobles an hour if they assisted in tower repairs.
Magister Briego became imperator without much fanfare, and Kyra took his place as head of Artificing. Briego didn’t see it as a promotion, but rather an annoyance that kept him away from his tinkering. Kyra, meanwhile, became the youngest magister in history.
She and Taro hadn’t spoken since that day in the courtyard. Taro ran through what he wanted to say a thousand times in his mind. He imagined every possible outcome. Did she hate him? Did she forgive him? Was that even possible? When he finally got up the nerve to visit her in the Artificium, she barely looked up from her desk. She had a screwdriver out and was tightening a bolt on what looked like one of the constructs from the Arclight hallway.
“What are you working on?” Taro said.
Kyra looked away pointedly.
“Kyra, I...” His voice trailed off.
“You what?” Kyra said.
“I know I can never take back what happened.”
Kyra placed the part down. “Taro, remember what I said when I kicked you off the Eventide?”
“You said you didn’t love me.” The memory stung.
“I was lying. I love you more than I ever thought I could.”
Taro’s heart soared for a moment before crashing down.
“And I hate myself for it,” Kyra added. “I hate looking at you. I hate seeing you. My father might consider the matter closed, might even consider you a hero, but I know the truth.” Kyra went back to fiddling with the construct.
Taro left without another word. In retrospect, it was foolish to think that she would forgive him. Despite all reason, he did little things to see her. He volunteered for tower repairs in the same sections she was in, but every time he saw her it only made things worse.
Of all the terrible things that had happened, Taro took comfort in the fact that he hadn’t lost Ven and Suri as friends. He told them everything, from beginning to end, expecting them to treat him as Kyra did. After some hard words, all of which Taro rightfully deserved, they forgave him.
Chapter Forty-six
The Edges of the World
When Taro heard footsteps in the nearby grass, he didn’t think much of it. These days the Magisterium courtyard was full of artificers studying and the ash tree he leaned against was a popular spot. When he heard the Sun King’s voice, he almost dropped his textbook.
“May I sit?” the Sun King said.
“Your Majesty. Of course.”
The Sun King looked rather out of place sitting cross-legged. Somehow he’d managed to slip away from his bodyguards, though Taro got the impression that this was quite a common occurrence.
“I’m surprised to see you here,” the Sun King said. “Your family should be arriving within the hour.”
Taro folded the page of his textbook and set it aside. “I figured this is one place they won’t be able to find me.”
“You don’t want to see them?”
“I do. More than anything. But explaining to them what happened to Nima is... well, it’s not going to be easy.”
The Sun King pressed his back against the tree and fished something from his pocket. “That's what brings me here. I wanted to deliver this news personally.”
The Sun King brought out a piece of paper that Taro instantly recognized as one of Mr. Mathan’s two-way parchment. “We recovered this from what was left of Victor Mathan.”
“Why didn’t you show it to me sooner?”
“It was blank when they found it. Yesterday, however, a single line of writing appeared on it.”
Taro unfolded the parchment. Scrawled across it, in Nima’s unmistakable handwriting, were two words: Help me.
In that instant, Taro knew only two things: that she was out there somewhere, and that he was going to find her.