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CHAPTER SIXTY

M y head was roaring. A bloody, thunderous bellow tearing apart my skull. The sharpness of my injuries was nothing to this calamitous noise.

The sound of my soul reawakening.

From the very depths of my being, a fault line had ruptured and the true creature I was spilled out at long last.

My hand raised to clasp the hilt of the dagger stuck under my ribs, the tip so close to my heart it was only the stars’ mercy that kept me here. My fingers tracked over my name carved there by the hands of Everest.

Kaiser Brimtheon.

Me.

But I didn’t know who I was. I only knew that my mind was wide awake and the rampage in my chest spoke of a thousand unfelt feelings. The person I was between that chaos was impossible to comprehend.

A wild, unhinged laugh tore from my chest, echoing up to the onlooking sky, the stars regarding my madness unfolding. My laugh staggered into a bellow and a sharp and twisted feeling tore through my chest in its place. A feeling I couldn’t name amidst the riot in my head.

I tried to get up, clutching the dagger tight to my body so it didn’t dislodge and leave me bleeding out. I grunted as the pain splintered through me, keener than I had felt it before, but nothing compared to the tumult of emotions clashing together within me.

My right leg was twisted and useless, but my thoughts couldn’t align to take stock of further injuries as I gripped the rough edge of the cliffside and tried to haul myself up.

Up, up, up to a nameless fate. I was reborn, a newly created being lurching toward an uncharted future.

But the only thing I was truly aware of wanting up there was her .

She; the dealer of my fortunes and misfortunes.

The Fae who had sliced apart the soul-tie with the Void and ripped out the piece of me that had kept me muted all these years.

It was gone. Crumbled apart to become kindling to the thriving fire of my true self.

And up there, she might still breathe. She might be waiting to drive her dagger deeper into my chest.

I laughed again, the sound a rough and musical noise that made so little sense to me. It was light and stirring but there was something so desperately fucking broken about it too.

To name myself joyful would be wrong. This was not like the easy smiles that North wore so well.

This was something darker, rooted in decay.

It was the laughter of the Flamebringer I had freed from years in captivity in Cascada.

That toothless, emaciated man had lasted no more than a day before he had died, withered and cracked.

Yes, he had laughed this laugh. This tormented, hollow sound which spoke of terrible omens.

My focus honed on Everest and the laughter faded, my nearly-pierced heart thumping more keenly as she came to my mind.

I clawed my way higher, the bellow of retreat sounding out in the cawing of the flurrying magpies above. My throat felt tighter at the noise, the announcement of Pyros’s defeat.

My thoughts turned to North, to Mirelle, and my chest became heavier like iron blocks had been placed inside it. I was uncertain of what these sensations meant, the reasoning behind them abandoning me as I fought to remember North’s teachings.

A groan left my throat and I tasted blood on my lips, the tang of it sharpening my decision to keep going.

A flicker of blue made my head lift and my connection to my Sayer Dragon made me breathe his name in a sigh as I spotted him. “Calcifiend.”

He landed on my arm, his head cocking as he took in the cut of me and chirruped low. He crept forward to nuzzle my cheek, perhaps encouraging me on, but he could not assist me here.

I sent my will into him, finding my Order form rising in offering again, confirming the Void was no longer near, yet I was left awake, assuring me that whatever power had subdued my emotions was truly gone.

“Go,” I rasped at Calcifiend. “Seek Mirelle or North. Bring them to me, so long as it will cause them no harm to come.”

Calcifiend nuzzled my cheek once more then took off into the sky.

Up I climbed, somehow hauling myself to the top of the cliff and gazing out across the rocky plain.

The Cascadian ships were retreating along the Blackthorn Canal, already distant, and Ironwraith was sailing away to the north, leaving the Avanis army behind to collect the souls of all those they came across.

The Stonebreakers were crying out their triumph, surrounding the bloodstained form of Earl Tarlord who roared his victory for all the heavens to hear, the sound cutting across the battlefield.

The rumble of train engines carried from the south.

I turned to watch the steam plume from the vehicles that would carry the people of Pyros to safety, evacuating them south to Ravensview.

Mirelle would not have called the retreat if our defeat had not been imminent, but there was no sign of the Flamebringer warriors now.

They were gone and I felt a strange knot unfurl in my chest at the knowledge that my family were likely on that train. If they had survived.

I dragged myself over the ridge and a gasp left me as I jarred my injuries and clutched the dagger tight to my chest. The Stonebreakers were close.

Too close. I should move. But my eyes were half closing.

I could feel the blood now, the heat of it warming my chest and stomach as it seeped out around the dagger’s edge.

I gazed up at the stars, finding the Pisces constellation taunting me from above and another manic laugh bubbled from my lips.

Of course she had come to watch me die. She had been the maker of my killer after all.

Silka la vin. I supposed some part of me had known Everest would be the one to end me.

I fell quiet at the knowledge that I would die alone though. Especially as I had never truly lived. But at least I could feel the full force of life, even if only for a moment.

Thanks to her, I was me again. A damaged version whose only reference for emotion pertained to his childhood, but I was still me in a fractured form. And that had to be the greatest gift to die with.