by Elise Kova
She was a spirit—an idea of life. She was a slice of consciousness in the primordial void, drifting for who knew how long.
I know this place.
“Yes,” a familiar voice said. Every man, woman, and child in the world was speaking all at once through the voice.
I shouldn’t be here.
“No, this is not a place for you.”
Her back settled on something solid. She had been drifting like a leaf through space and had finally settled somewhere soft. Vi blinked, which was odd, because she didn’t really have eyelids in this state. Or maybe she did have eyelids? She blinked again. Yes, there were definitely eyelids of some kind.
Around her, a room came into focus. Marble columns supported a ceiling so high she couldn’t see it. A bed of plush feathers and clouds surrounded her. A woman with long, black hair stood by a wide window that overlooked the whole world. Vi found herself inhabiting the vision she’d seen after absorbing the crown, but this time from a different vantage.
A familiar face of angular cheeks and sharp eyes regarded her. A silver necklace hung around the woman’s neck. The chain was weighted down by a vaguely familiar silver pocket watch that had a sun and wing on its surface.
Ah, that was where the ticking was coming from.
“You look like Fiera this time.” Vi smiled, though the expression felt weak and tired.
“Do I?”
Vi remembered the last time that she had been in a similar space with the goddess, a place where eternity stretched on forever. How painful it had been before, to lay eyes on Yargen’s raw form. She was grateful now that Yargen took the shape of something—someone—easier to comprehend.
Before.
What had happened before?
“The battle with Raspian,” Yargen reminded her gently.
Yes, that was it. The pieces clarified and slotted back into place, one after the other.
“I died,” Vi whispered. She sat up. A body was attached to her essence now, though Vi had the distinct feeling that what she perceived as a body was merely another aspect of Yargen’s magic. It was another way her mind tried to comprehend an impossible place and situation.
“In a way.”
“Death seems fairly black and white.”
“I have carved earth from nothingness. I have breathed life into creations of crystal. For me, very little is black and white.” Yargen crossed over and sat on the edge of the bed. “Yes, you gave the raw essence of life itself—such a powerful thing—and the body that housed it back to me, so that Raspian could be sealed. But consciousness does little to seal away dark gods.”
“You took my body and life essence, but not my mind.”
“Just so.”
“Was what I gave… enough?”
“Yes.” Yargen smiled with Fiera’s lips. It was as tender and warm as the real princess’s.
“Then the world…”
“The world you helped shape will be safe from Raspian for another thousand or two thousand years, perhaps more if we’re lucky. Things were not rebuilt, this time.” The smile became slightly coy and her eyes a little sad. “Eventually, he will break free of that containment. Or mortals will somehow find a way to set him free, whether they know what they’re doing or not. Though I have made sure he is well hidden, this time.”
“I see.” Vi smoothed her hand over the foggy blanket atop her, watching glittering starlight dance underneath her fingers.
“Do not despair.” Yargen rested her hand on hers gently. Magic and life shot through her. Vi inhaled sharply. Feelings were starting to return. Vi felt like laughing and weeping, singing and screaming, all at once. “That is simply the order of things. When he returns, I will be ready.”
“You are not fractured, then?”
“Do I look fractured to you?”
“I’ve been told my eyes can lie to me around the divine, so I’ve stopped trusting them in moments like these.”
Yargen chuckled at that. The sound was pure delight and as sweet as bells. “You have been an amusing one to watch, all these revolutions of the vortex.”
“It’s really all over then…” Vi looked out the window. She saw nothing but a bright blue sky, clear and filled with light. She brought her attention back to Yargen. “So why am I still here?”
“That is something I have debated for many mortal years now.”
“Years?”
“For me, it has only been a moment.” Yargen stood once more, looking down at her with Fiera’s fiery eyes. “I have been thinking while I harbored your consciousness, keeping it safe from the passage of time. What is a just reward for a Champion who has served me so faithfully across the ages? Then, it occurred to me…
“Do you wish to return to that world?”
“What?” Vi whispered. Something jolted in her chest. It felt like a heartbeat, the first of what could be many.
“You enabled me to return the watch to Vhalla Yarl, and a Vi Solaris was born into the world you have saved. This new Vi’s body is as you know it, though the world is slightly different than you remember. Your actions did cause ripples of change these past eighteen years. However, if it would please you, I could return your mind to that form.”
Vi considered this, trying to wrap her head around it. “What would happen to the new Vi’s consciousness? Would she know what’s happened?”
“No, she wouldn’t. You and she are mirrors; it would be a seamless merger of your awareness. Though there might be some memories and feelings from your separate childhoods that would get confused from time to time—memories you won’t be sure which one of you made.”
“Would it feel like two people at once?” Vi had that sensation before with Yargen. She wasn’t keen to have it again.
“No. You would have one mind. One, final Vi Solaris.”
“Would I feel like me?”
“Mortal feelings are elusive to me.”
Vi looked around the room, considering this offer. She would be returned to the body of the ninety-fourth Vi Solaris, born into the world she’d saved. It would be a chance to live in a time that was not ending. And, if Yargen was to be believed, it wouldn’t result in pain or confusion for the girl who was currently walking in that skin.
“What’s the alternative?” Vi dared to ask.
“I would fully join you with my essence. You would live forever as an aspect of me. You would know every corner of this world and whatever comes next in a way a mortal never could, just as I promised.”
“Are my parents and brother alive in this new world?” Yargen had mentioned ripples of change caused by her actions. Just because there had been a Vhalla and Aldrik when she’d left the Dark Isle didn’t mean they sill lived now.
“They are.”
Relief made her dizzy and a sound somewhere between laughter and a sob escaped her. There were changes, but the people she held dearest were still there. She could still have a life with them—the life she’d been robbed of. “Tell me one more thing: is there a new Taavin?”
“Yes.”
“Then I wish to return,” Vi said gingerly, a smile working its way onto her lips. “I would rather live one life with them than an eternity without.” Vi paused, then added hastily, “No offense, your magnificence.”
Yargen laughed in delight once more. She crossed over to the bed and leaned forward. “I didn’t expect you to choose differently.”
Vi stared at the watch around the goddess’s neck, realizing where it had come from. It was the timepiece Yargen had traded with Vhalla during that long, dark night. That meant the watch with Taavin’s essence was still out there.
“Time for time,” Vi whispered.
Yargen lifted her hand, touching the watch with a smile. “When Aldrik gave this to Vhalla, he bestowed on her his minutes, his hours, his days. I think he would be very pleased to know he was really giving them to you.”
A thousand questions danced on her tongue but she remained in stunned silence as Yargen leaned forward. The visage of
Fiera melted away to pure light. The goddess placed a single, tender kiss on Vi’s forehead.
The air was sucked from Vi’s lungs as she fell backward and descended from the realm of the divine one final time.
The room vanished into a misty light. Wind sped around her. Her eyes dipped closed and—
Vi woke with a gasp. She jolted forward, covers thrown from her shoulders and pooling around her waist. The smell of fresh wood, sap, and the damp tang of morning filled her nose. It was a familiar, nostalgic scent—one she hadn’t smelled in a long time.
She looked around in the darkness. The walls were smoothed and polished. Overhead was a gnarled ceiling of decorative roots and branches that spilled down, weaving into the four corners of her bed. Across from the foot of the bed was a dresser, adorned with carefully painted portraits in gilded frames.
Turning, Vi peered at the candle on her bedside table. Her breath hitched as she lifted a hand.
The candle lit on command.
Vi threw off the familiar covers, standing. She grabbed at the sleeping gown she wore, feeling the cotton. She rushed over to the corner of the room. There, a pile of supplies was neatly stacked in the corner between the dresser and the window. A quiver she knew so very well hung on its peg, bow attached. She ran her fingertips over the fletchings of the arrows and the Solaris sigil emblazoned in the quiver’s leather.
This was her room. Everything was just as she remembered it: the clothes she’d laid out for her birthday hunt, the candle she’d struggled to light. That meant she had woken at the dawn of her seventeenth birthday once more.
That also meant—
Vi sprinted from the bedroom. Her heart was racing faster than her feet. Every emotion was competing for dominance within her. Yargen’s hold over her body and mind had been so slow that Vi hadn’t realized for how long her emotions had been muted. It seemed like it’d been forever since she’d truly felt anything.
A strangled noise of hope and fear escaped her mouth as she rushed into the main living space of the quarters. The couches were in a slightly different spot than she remembered. Or… were they?
Yargen said time had continued along while her consciousness had been in stasis. There were changes and variations from the world she’d come from. Vi shook her head, turning to the door that led to her personal study. Only one thing mattered right now.
She yanked on it so hard that it slammed into the wall as Vi rushed into the room. Every map was where she remembered. The table where she’d drawn them was as much of a mess as she’d last left it.
Five presents were stacked atop the drafting table, neatly piled and out of place in the room.
“Don’t let this have changed,” she pleaded. Let Fritz’s gift be a stone in the river.
Vi pushed aside four of the gifts and reached for a small parcel wrapped in black silk. It was feather-light and a had a black envelope slid under a black ribbon. Vi’s fingers trembled as she ripped open the seal on the letter—the Broken Moon of the Tower of Sorcerers. The symbol of the Tower was something she needed to change the instant she got back to the palace. She couldn’t look at it now without seeing Raspian’s followers.
But Sorcerers and the sorting of symbols could wait. Vi hurriedly skimmed the letter that began with, “Dear Vi” and ended with, “Your friend who cannot wait to meet and teach you, Fritznangle Chareem, Minister of Sorcery.” She didn’t need to read every word. She knew what it said.
Unwrapping the silken scarf, Vi found a silver pocket watch. She smoothed her fingers over its tarnished face. Her hands clutched it so tightly that her fingernails dug into her palms and her knuckles were white.
Vi dropped to her knees, tears flowing down her cheeks. Every emotion rushed through her at once. It made her tongue thick and her words awkward.
“Narro haath,” she dared to whisper.
Light sparked around her clenched hands. It formed the shape of a familiar glyph, one she understood better than ever. Magic raced across the ether, connecting her with the man whose communication mark had been imprinted long ago on this most precious token.
Silence.
And then, a familiar voice.
“What… Who—”
Vi covered her mouth, tears still falling in rivers down her cheeks. A new dawn broke through her window. With all the strength she could muster, Vi managed to say, “Hello, Taavin.”
Epilogue
Vi stood on the bow of the greatest vessel ever constructed for the Imperial Armada. She had spent her last month in the North drawing out ideas for the plans, based off the Stormfrost and what she had seen in Meru’s fleet.
Of course, an actual shipwright in Solarin had to go through all of her drawings and turn them into usable blueprints. That process had taken nearly four months of convincing him that, yes, there were ways to build ships in the manner she’d drawn. He merely needed to expand his way of thinking and broaden what he considered “possible.” Leveraging her family’s relationship with Erion Le’Dan had ultimately helped expedite the process.
The construction had taken just over a year in a dry dock to the north of Norin.
It had been two agonizingly slow years until she’d christened the ship and they’d set sail. All of the patience she’d learned seemed to have been a casualty of her battle with Raspian. But in the end, the time it took to build was a good thing. There were other matters that had to fall into place.
Diplomacy took time, especially between two continents that had been closed off to each other for centuries.
“Is that it?” Ellene bounced from foot to foot. Vi had expected more of a fight from Sehra when she’d proposed that Ellene come along on this first diplomatic trip. But the moment Vi pointed out that this was the perfect opportunity for Ellene to spend some time studying Lightspinning in the land that invented it, Sehra instantly agreed.
“Yes. Careful, or you’ll fall over the railing.”
“I will not. I’m not that clumsy.”
“You certainly are,” Jayme said dryly. She leaned against the railing to Vi’s left. Her back was to the land that had just come in sight.
“I am not!”
Jayme shot Vi a knowing grin that seemed to say It’s just too easy to rile her, isn’t it?
In the seventeen years Vi’s consciousness had floated in Yargen’s primordial stasis, the world had continued. But things were different in this world—different, and in so many ways, better.
There was no Adela terrorizing the seas of the Shattered Isles. After thieving from the Archives, the pirate queen decided to make herself scarce. Which also meant that Jayme was never recruited to act against Vi.
Because of what Vi had mentioned to Elecia, Daniel’s existence was discovered much sooner. Elecia had told Jax, who went East immediately after the end of the war, and multiple times after. He found Daniel and, while he respected the man’s wishes to remain mostly anonymous, he sent word to Aldrik and Vhalla. The royals had kept Daniel’s life private and the man well taken care of.
So while Vi could still sense Jayme had mixed feelings about certain things, especially when it came to the crown’s conquest and Mad King Victor, she didn’t see the precursors of betrayal in the woman’s eyes.
“I’m really glad you’re both here with me,” Vi said tenderly.
“Oh goodness, here she goes again.” Ellene rolled her eyes. “You’re not going to get all sappy on us for the next hour, are you? You’ve been terrible ever since you turned seventeen.”
“No, I haven’t!” She laughed, knowing well her friend was correct. Emotions were lovely and Vi had enjoyed feeling them again over the past two years. Perhaps a little too much, at times. “I’m just glad we could make this voyage together.”
“I’m excited to see what the Crescent Continent holds.” Jayme finally looked over her shoulder at the strip of land growing in size in the distance.
Footsteps approached from behind them. “I think that goes for all of us.”
Jax and Eleci
a joined them at the bow. Elecia was dressed in finery that befit the Lady of the West. But Vi was still growing accustomed to seeing Jax in formal ceremonial garb.
She had memories of their wedding. Or rather, the Vi who had grown up in this world had those memories. The ceremony had taken place in the Cathedral of the Mother in Norin, and what Vi could picture was a breathtaking affair.
Elecia had grown impatient with Jax about five years ago. He was always stalling their relationship for “no reason.” First it was heading to the East. Next it was setting up a new Golden Guard in the South. Then it was accepting a position to watch over Vi in the North when the first appointee—a man Vi had been too young to remember—retired.
In a way, Vi had now lived the best of both worlds. Her first childhood was full of memories in which she’d grown up with Jax as her surrogate father. But she also had memories of him finally chasing after his happily ever after. Now, she got to see him standing hand-in-hand with the woman he’d loved in every world.
Fortunately, while she could parse the memories apart, nothing was confusing or painful. It didn’t feel as though she was competing with someone else for headspace. Yargen had been blessedly correct in that respect. And, as far as she could tell, the people she loved were none the wiser that her consciousness had undergone a transformation.
Vi turned her attention back to Risen.
The world spun, seasons changed, and people changed, but the one constant remained: love—the love of friends and family, the love that bound people together through the ages.
That was the love she now sought.
“You should go below and get ready, Vi,” Elecia said thoughtfully. “We’ll be dropping anchor before you know it.”
“You’re right. Excuse me.”
Her cabin was one of the largest on the vessel. It was positioned in the back, with grand windows overlooking the sea. In many ways, it reminded her of Adela’s cabin. Vi smiled to herself every time she entered, wondering what the pirate queen would think if she knew she’d inspired the flagship of Admiral Crown Princess Vi Solaris’s budding armada.