by Lynette Noni
“Release them, Aven,” Alex ordered, her voice quiet but firm. “Release them all.”
Feeling the tug between them, she knew the power of her command was flowing through to him, a power he was unable to resist. The slightest graze on his neck thanks to Mayra’s sacrificial moment of revenge, coupled with the salvation of Zaylin’s timely arrival, and Aven’s rule was at an end. Alex owned him now—he was hers to control.
And yet, there was one final piece of the prophecy that had yet to play out. Knowing as much, Alex was ready when Aven attempted one last-ditch effort to resist her order, summoning Vae’varka into his mindscape and lunging forward with a roar of fury.
Unlike when she had been in Jordan’s mind, she didn’t order Aven to stop. This time, she met his blade with A’enara, one final time. It was in that moment—when Dark and Light met mid-strike—that the power of her command took effect and, gasping and panting as if fighting the words themselves, Aven had no choice but to choke out, “Trae Gaverran sae.”
Alex endured a breathless moment as she waited to see if it would work without him first swapping blood with his victims. But the power of the prophecy held true, because in an instant, those caged within the ballroom disappeared, just as the screaming in the city below ceased. With the tormented sounds now silenced, Alex knew the prophecy had at last been fulfilled.
The captives had been set free.
But that still left an irate Meyarin on her hands. And when Alex retreated from his mind and returned to her own body, it took the combined efforts of Roka and Zain, along with Zaylin and Raife—the latter having also come, along with a small group of other Tia Aurans—to hold Aven back long enough for Alex to utter a single word: “Stop!”
Only then did Aven freeze, glaring at her with such loathing that she trembled, even knowing she had full control of him.
“You—”
Soraya arrived in a flash of light and dark and growled at him threateningly enough that he snapped his mouth shut and turned his glare on the wolf. But just to be sure he would remain silent, Alex commanded, “Quiet.”
It was a miracle none of the others had been wounded by Vae’varka during the struggle, but Alex wasn’t willing to risk Aven resisting her and injuring someone, so she quietly told her friends to back away even as she ordered him to banish his blade. She met Roka’s eyes when he hesitated, seeing the raw grief in them, but the return look she sent him begged him to trust her. And with a wary nod, he did, stepping back with the others.
She didn’t spare a glance to what was happening on the rest of the academy grounds, didn’t spare a glance to see if her friends were safe. All she could do was pray they had survived in this timeline and focus on completing her task—because it wasn’t over yet.
With another quiet word, Alex ordered Aven to follow as, with Soraya guarding from her side, she guided him towards and then into the Tower building. It was there that she would carry out the final part of the plan she had formed prior to the devastation he had wrought, prior to the lives he had stolen from her. Now that they had been returned through Athora’s sacrifice, she was ready to see her final act through, having been inspired by Lady Mystique’s words within the Gate of Lost Souls.
‘When all seems lost,’ the ancient woman had said, ‘Kelarna de la Soraya.’
Alex hadn’t understood her translation to ‘remember the light’ back then, but now she knew that the words hadn’t been regarding any kind of illuminated light. Instead, when the woman had added emphasis to the word ‘Soraya’, it had been in reference to Soraya de lah Torra—the Light of the Worlds.
The Library.
Just like when Alex had needed to escape her quarters in the Vardaesian palace, in the lead up to facing Aven, she had once again realised that the Library was the key to her freedom—to everyone’s freedom. And because of that, the final part of her plan had come together.
With Aven trailing beside her on a mental leash and Soraya eyeing him closely, Alex descended the staircase and entered the foyer. It was there that she ordered him to halt in front of the portrait that offered a perfect depiction of Meya, it having remained in place simply because Alex had asked the Library to make it so.
‘You need only ask, Alexandra. Try not to forget again.’
The words offered by the Library deep in the Tia Auran desert had been a lesson Alex had taken to heart. While they may not have helped when it came to changing time—with her having been forewarned that such a doorway would never be offered again—this was something she knew the Library would allow.
And so, after a quiet request for Soraya to remain where she was and an order for Aven to keep still, she grabbed his arm…
… and pushed him inside the painting.
Together they tumbled out the other side, landing atop the Golden Cliffs, right where he had once taken her to show her the best view of the city.
Turning to face him, Alex struggled against what she saw flaring in his eyes. There was hatred there, so much hatred. But now there was fear as well, along with desperation as he began to realise what was happening.
Pointing to the outside world beyond the painting of the Library’s foyer that was now strung against a Silverwood tree, Alex told him, “They wanted you dead. Everyone out there— except your brother, who denied his right to vote.”
Aven flinched, but kept silent as per her command.
“This was my compromise,” Alex continued. “It’s the only way for you to remain alive, while keeping everyone else safe. Here, you can rule Meya without hurting anyone, the entire city your playground.”
She fought back a wave of emotion as the look in his eyes deepened, and forced herself to recall what she had suffered through—the field of death surrounding her after he had killed everyone she loved. Alex braced against all she was feeling, knowing he would never show her the same kind of mercy she now offered him. Knowing he hadn’t showed her that mercy. Instead, he’d slaughtered all those in his path, and sought to do the same to her.
“So that’s it, then?” he rasped after she quietly commanded that he could speak, his throat bobbing as he understood what his future now looked like. “You’re leaving me to be forever imprisoned within a painting?”
Meeting his eyes, Alex said, “Given all that you’ve done”—in this timeline and the one she had changed—“even you should be able to see that it’s more than you deserve. It’s certainly more than everyone out there was willing to offer.” Again, she pointed through the painting.
What she’d said was true. After he had made his ‘you for them’ bargain, the war council of allied races had debated Alex’s plan, remaining adamant about only one thing—wanting his head. She and Roka had been the only two to argue on his behalf, with not even Niida offering a defence for the damage her son had wrought. But ultimately, Alex had reminded them all that if she was the one destined to defeat him, then how she would do that was her decision to make. And so, honouring the friendship she and Aven once shared—regardless of everything he had done since then—she wasn’t willing to see him executed.
‘I’m not a murderer’—Alex had spoken those words to both Niyx and Zaylin, and she was determined to stand by them. Even if, given the look on Aven’s face, he would prefer death over what she was offering.
“Take me to Taevarg,” he said, all but begging. “Have those Tia Aurans take me back with them to their world and lock me up there. I don’t care what you do—anything is better than this. Anything.”
Alex again forced herself to remember who she was speaking with and the lives he had ruined. “You know there’s no prison in any world that can keep you from your own nature. It’s not a risk any of us can take. I’m sorry, Aven. But you have to stay here. Forever.”
The tug of the order flowed between them, enough that the finality of her command had him closing his eyes in defeat.
“For what it’s worth, I wish things had been different,” Alex whispered. And with a firm instruction for him to accept her Re
lease, she pressed her bloodied arm to his wounded neck again and spoke the words that unbound him from her, hearing his mental whisper of acceptance as he followed her very last command.
And then, before he could lunge towards her in a final act of vengeance, she touched her hand to the painting, tumbling back out into the Library just as Aven collapsed to his knees.
It was that image the portrait now depicted—the Golden Cliffs, with their fallen golden prince, forever frozen in time.
Alex allowed only a single tear to trail down her cheek as Soraya leaned against her in comfort, the two of them watching as the Library shuffled the paintings before their eyes, swapping Meya out with a picture of a perfect sunrise, hiding Aven deep within its depths forevermore.
“Thank you,” Alex said quietly, and not just for the Library’s help in containing—and therefore, defeating—Aven. More than anything, she was grateful because she knew that if the Library had wanted to stop Athora, it would have. And yet, it had not intervened, allowing her to change time—and save her world.
“I’ll always be here for you, Alexandra,” the Library responded. “We have yet many more adventures ahead of us.”
Weaving her fingers into Soraya’s fur as she swayed on her feet, her adrenaline beginning to fade into pain and exhaustion, Alex said, “Hopefully not for a while. I’d really like to take a nap first.”
A warm chuckle met her ears. “That, I’m sure, can be arranged.”
When Alex stumbled back out of the Tower building with her Shadow Wolf, it was to a very different sight than when she’d entered.
The skies had cleared of veeyons, leaving only the draekons circling overhead, with Xira soaring down to land with a heavy thump at her reappearance, his brilliant eyes glowing with pride.
The grounds around them were no longer echoing battle cries and ringing steel. All was silent. All was still. And all, it seemed, were waiting for her return.
As soon as she staggered down the stairs, saved only by Soraya’s steadying form, the silence broke. There were shouts and cheers so deafening that she nearly needed to cover her ears. Those who were now free of Aven’s Claim had tears pouring down their faces—Meyarin and human alike—as they professed their gratitude for what she had done.
And it wasn’t just the newly Released people who were crying. All around Alex, there were tears. Tears of elation, tears of pain, tears of grief…
Tears of hope.
She had barely a moment to take it all in, because after that, she was swept up in a flood of arms.
Her Meyarin friends reached her first, if only because they, like the Tia Aurans, had the advantage of speed. But Zaylin and Raife and their otherworldly company were nowhere to be seen, so it was Roka, Kyia and Zain who pulled Alex close, holding her tight enough for it to hurt. But she didn’t feel the pain—not physically. Emotionally, she felt a pang of sorrow, knowing that Mayra would have joined their embrace had she survived, and Niida, too. But they were both gone from this world, having joined Niyx and Astophe in death, finding peace with their loved ones beyond the stars.
Alex would grieve for them, but later. Because now, in the wake of such victory, she would allow herself to feel nothing but triumph—triumph that became elation when the three Meyarins backed away with knowing grins as her human friends closed in on her.
Kaiden, Jordan, Bear and Declan—they were all safe. They had all survived the bloodbath this time around. And D.C., too, along with Alex’s parents, Queen Osmada, Dorothy, Gammy and Evie—they had all survived the battle that had intruded into the Med Ward.
Jeera and Nisha and Drock… Blake and Johnny… Darrius and Hunter and Karter… King Aurileous—there were so many faces she was overwhelmingly relieved to see. And Fletcher’s, particularly, since unlike the others, he refrained from hugging her in favour of shoving an armful of laendra down her throat, insisting that it was a miracle she was still standing given the amount of blood she had lost.
Shadow Walkers, Dayriders, Jarnocks, Flips, Meyarins, humans—all around Alex was a sea of faces, many recognisable, many more not. But all of them were now free. All of them were now safe.
It was with that thought that, despite the laendra now rushing to heal her wounds, the physical and mental strain of the fight caught up with her.
Incapable of remaining standing a moment longer, her knees buckled and she fell into Kaiden’s arms as she finally—and inevitably—lost her battle to remain conscious.
“It would appear that you’re just as dramatic in your world as you were in ours.”
It took Alex a few moments to come back to full consciousness enough for the words to process, especially since it was only because of them that she was no longer sleeping. But once they registered—or, rather, who said them—Alex’s eyes snapped open and she sat up with a quiet gasp, finding Zaylin seated at the edge of her bed.
“Your doctor wanted you under his care, but there were so many others who needed beds in his medical facility that he yielded, allowing you to awaken in your own room,” Zaylin said, looking around the dorm with apparent distaste, likely at the lack of gold covering anything—or everything.
“What are—” Alex tried to speak but found that her throat was too dry to form words.
Zaylin offered her a flask of liquid and Alex drank it without question, relieved to find more warmed laendra inside, the flower instantly helping to revive her further.
Glancing down at her now pyjama-clad body, Alex could see no evidence of the wounds she had suffered in her fight against Aven, all except for the deep scar along her arm that had a silvery sheen to it. Her newest—and hopefully last— Claiming mark would never disappear, just like the scars she had across her palm. It would forever be a reminder of what she had faced, of what she had done. And she wouldn’t have it any other way.
Attempting speech again, Alex looked from her scar back up to Zaylin and asked, “What are you doing here? Saefii—”
“As far as I’m concerned, you proved yourself worthy of our aid,” Zaylin interrupted.
Before Alex could ask what the empress thought about the reneging group of immortals, Zaylin said, “You need to stop lazing about in bed and get dressed. There are many people who wish to see you.”
Alex raised her eyebrows. Lazing about in bed? Really?
Remind me why I’m grateful that Zaylin came to help? she called to Xira as the Tia Auran bustled around the room and began searching through Alex’s wardrobe, still in helper mode despite being in a different world.
How about because without the empress’s involvement, you would have died? Xira returned, amusement threading his tone. And everyone else after you?
Startled, Alex said, So Saefii decided to come, after all? That would certainly offer a reason for Zaylin’s well-timed intercept. But the empress had been so against allying with Medora that Alex struggled to comprehend her change of mind.
Saefii? Xira asked. What does she have to do with anything?
Warning bells started ringing in Alex’s mind. You said the empress is here.
She is, Xira said, sounding confused. She saved your life when Aven was about to strike you.
Heart beating faster, Alex said, That wasn’t Saefii—that was Zaylin.
I never said it was Saefii, Xira said, his tone even more perplexed. I said it was the empress.
Alex’s body stilled as she watched Zaylin still rummaging through her clothes, muttering in Tia Auran about the lamentable quality of the fabric.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Alex said aloud, her pitch enough to call Zaylin’s attention. When the Tia Auran’s silver eyes met her own, Alex said, “Did you seriously pull a D.C. on me?”
As if concerned with Alex’s mental health, Zaylin slowly asked, “Am I supposed to know what that means?”
“Saefii didn’t send you here, did she?” Alex asked, her voice firm, but also wobbling at the end.
Zaylin’s face flared with emotion as she understood what Alex was really asking.
Quietly, she said, “No. She did not.” She looked away, a weighty silence falling between them until she continued, just as quietly, “I could not in good conscience ask my people to fight in a war they have already suffered through, but there were those who willingly chose to come and battle by your side. Myself included.”
Raising a hand to her head, Alex couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Barely able to get the words past her lips, she said, “Saefii’s not the empress, is she?”
“Saefii is my cousin,” Zaylin answered in a whisper. “She is also my decoy in the rare case that we are visited by foreigners. None but those native to Vardaesia are aware of my true identity… as Empress of Tia Auras.”
All along, the real empress had been watching Alex, closer than Saefii or anyone else in Vardaesia.
For a moment, Alex struggled with the betrayal she felt, before she realised that Zaylin had ultimately come to Medora’s aid, and because of her help, Aven was no longer a threat—and never would be again. It was for that reason alone that Alex moved towards the stiff immortal, who looked like she was considering whether she would need to raise her golden sword against an attack.
But that was not what Alex intended. Instead, she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around the other woman.
“Thank you for coming,” Alex whispered. “Thank you for saving me—for saving us all.”
Slowly, Zaylin returned the embrace. “Thank you for proving you were worth saving.”
Pushing back, Alex blinked fiercely and said, “Don’t you dare make me cry. I’ve had enough tears to last a lifetime.”
Amused, Zaylin just shook her head and resumed her search for an outfit, allowing Alex a moment to pull herself together. As she did so—breathing deeply to stem her rising tears—Alex called out to Xira again.