Darkness as far as I could see... mercilessly deep, soft and quiet... the kind of darkness that brings the bravest to their knees... the feeling of being defenseless, too weak to even open my eyes and see where I was... it scared me...

  And among that darkness, voices echoed...

  What is more important to you: being 'normal' or being happy?

  Happiness was something completely different from what I thought it was when all of this started... You taught me that... so did Yasenka, Siaril, Ertralia...

  It's a passion that runs in the family... But I always thought he had more potential than anyone before him.

  You sounded so proud... yet you couldn't protect him properly you blithering idiot...

  Sometimes, taking action is a duty towards one's own freedom...

  It took me so long to understand what you actually meant back then... but seriously, you could have been more honest too... trusted me more... like I trusted you...

  "Don't give up... please... I will do anything, endure anything, just stay with me..."

  That voice sounded closer... felt more real...

  And I suddenly wasn't afraid anymore. The warmth of two hands wrapping around mine made the darkness more bearable... I was too tired to move a single muscle, but I had to comfort him... I just had to... And somehow, my eyelids obeyed, lifting, even if reluctantly.

  The first thing I saw was a bright roof... Everything in my field of vision was blurred, but I was pretty sure I was in one of the mansion's rooms, though probably not my own... I slowly turned my head to see Siaril, sitting on the floor next to my bed. My right hand was enveloped in both of his, his forehead resting on his wrists. He looked like he was sleeping...

  "Siaril..." I gave one of his hands a weak squeeze.

  His head immediately jerked up. The first thing I noticed on his features was exhaustion... the second was surprise... after a moment of staring in each other's eyes, relief replaced it all and Siaril's head fell down again. "Thank goodness, finally..." he whimpered.

  Memories were slowly starting to crystallize in my mind... hazy images flashing by and vanishing... The battle... Sharish... the kanh...

  "What happened...?" I eventually asked, too dizzy to comprehend them.

  "Don't worry about anything," Siaril straightened up again. I thought I saw the glimmer of tears in his eyes, but it quickly vanished under a weary smile. "It's over... we won. The soldiers were sent to Tacritia, they will be waiting for us to start celebrations as soon as we are all healed up and ready."

  "Really...?" I heard a more lively note in my own voice. "But... wait... does that mean that Sharish...?"

  There was a long moment of silence.

  "He... won't be a threat to anyone..." Siaril's eyes fixated on the bed sheets. "Never again..."

  "How... did you manage to...?"

  "I'm actually... not quite sure what happened. Not long after you went chasing after that ansirth, he appeared on the battlefield, but he... seemed changed somehow. Like he lost motivation... he joined the fight still, but it was like only his body was fighting, no spirit behind it at all... He fell under someone's blade, we're not even sure whose..."

  Sharish... defeated so easily...? Why...? There was so much hatred, so much determination... what must have happened to make him...

  ... the last memory that my mind finally took the veil of darkness off of brought both the answer and an amount guilt and grief that almost sent me back into unconsciousness...

  Light...

  "So he's really... dead...?"

  I stopped breathing.

  The voice that asked this question... it couldn't be...

  I turned my head on the pillow, Siaril shifting slightly so I could see what was behind his back. There was another bed not too far away, the covers a deep purple, tiny stars stitched into them with golden thread... And in it, his back sunk into a huge pillow, laid...

  "Light...?" my lips formed the name of my master on their own volition.

  The successor of the Caydranth lineage gave me a pale smile. "What, you thought you're rid of me...?"

  "But... but you were... how...?"

  "It was Yasenka," Siaril answered for him. "I found you three in a cave... you with a half-healed wound in your side, Light with two holes in his robe but not underneath it and Yasenka passed out... she used her magic to save you and overdid it..."

  "Where is she?"

  Siaril moved a bit more, revealing an armchair near the legs of Light's bed. Nestled in it comfortably was Yasenka, sound asleep. She had a mug in her lap, hands wrapped loosely around it, her beautiful features relaxed and peaceful. I sighed in relief, before throwing my master a stern look.

  "Why did you do that? If you tell me 'better me than you', I'm going to smack you..."

  "It was a reflex, no real reason... you know I'd do even more for you."

  "I wouldn't let you."

  "Eh, why?"

  "Because more is impossible, and if something's impossible then you'd just try to do it like it's no big deal. That's where I start to worry."

  Light chuckled, the sound soon turning into a soft moan of pain.

  "Serves you right."

  "That's enough," Siaril interrupted, a small smile lighting up his tired features.

  I gave it a rest. But there was another person I was still worried about...

  "Your sister... did she make it here?" I asked hesitantly.

  Siaril let out a tiny huff, his lips becoming a thin line for a second. "She did..." the tone alone told me that he already gave her a healthy scolding. "She's in one piece, that's what matters I guess... She told me what happened... thank you for saving her."

  I managed a small smile. "And the armies... I don't suppose we killed every last of Sharish's supporters...?"

  "No, but... I don't think they will be causing trouble in this vicinity anymore, at least for some time. No one saw a single ansirth left alive, and syards fled before Armailith like evil spirits from a priest after Sharish's main forces were crushed. She also made sure to seal all the entrances to the underground that the stronghold concealed. Old buildings and magical equipment sure give a beautiful color to flames..."

  "Will that be enough though...?"

  "I don't think so," Light found some strength to speak again. "While we were in Hreshia, I managed to have a talk with some kanh... with the good ones, that is."

  "Good ones?" I gave him a confused look.

  "Turns out not all of them are on the same page," Siaril continued for him again. "There is a small faction that strongly opposes going to war with the surface just for the sake of finding safe passage to Elirieth."

  "That's probably the most reasonable thing I've heard since this whole mess began..."

  "I know, right?" Light laughed a little.

  "Will they be willing to talk some more?"

  "Definitely."

  "Then we should..."

  "Stop for now and focus on recovering," Siaril cooled us down, voice amused.

  "Then so should you. I bet you didn't move since whenever it was that whoever it was tucked us in here."

  "Well..."

  "... sorry..."

  "Hey, don't make that face. The floor might not be the most comfy seat, but I was able to get some rest nevertheless."

  "No, I mean... sorry... for everything..."

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  "Everything?"

  "Because of me, Light lost his brother... I lied to everyone in Earlindon, which for sure caused countless of them to lose their lives... Even though all of this could have ended differently..."

  Siaril seemed to give it a moment of thought, absently stroking my hand with his thumb. "First off - not all of it was because of your lies... Second - if it weren't for those lies, if it weren't for you, all of this could have ended far worse. I mean it," he added, seeing my confused expression. "Who else would have been able to keep the people of our kingdom together after Yisral's death? Sharish decided to stop hiding the exact instant our land lost its king. Do you think Earlindon would have been able to stand against him if you didn't make the sacrifice to show them that they still have a leader? That they can fight even magic if they unite under one banner? The Nitrael lineage was long forgotten, besides, even if someone invoked our right of the throne, the quarrels about it would probably have lasted until Sharish wiped us all out, and I would probably have repudiated my own name just to not take it over. If it weren't for you... I have no idea how Earlindon would look like right now, and I'd rather not think about it..."

  "But..."

  "Plus," interjected Light, "if it weren't for you, I would've ended up dead on the bottom of an empty hole in the Ethir Mountains, murdered by a random kanh under the command of my own brother."

  "It wouldn't have happened in the first place if I wasn't so stupid..."

  "Sigrian..." Siaril's backed my master up. "Stop the buts. I've realized something during this battle, you know... Maybe becoming one of the Disciples was my fate or whatever, but... I never really fulfilled that fate the way I was maybe expected to. I didn't follow that path because of my sense of duty or to protect the people of this land. That wasn't my task. You were my task... And I was yours, wasn't I... I wasn't even looking for any meaning in it all, never asked for help. Yet you offered it to me. You begged me to take it even though I thought I didn't need it and some of the whole process wasn't pleasant. Earlindon will come to the same conclusion, trust me. They've seen the prelude of what could have happened should we let Sharish have his way. Lies or not, you played a huge part in preventing that future..."

  I closed my eyes to stop the tears that were coming up to my eyes, instead showing him a small smile. "Thanks..."

  I felt Siaril's hand on my cheek before it unhurriedly wandered to my forehead. "Get some more sleep..." his whisper already started a lullaby. "You still have a slight fever..."

  I didn't really want to... I wanted to know every single detail of the battle that I've missed, taste the victory at least a little bit... But I knew I wouldn't be fully able to even if I was to be shown the most beautiful painting of the glorious moment. Sharish's death... gave it all a fair amount of bitterness. In the end, the moment his heart was broken... he remembered that he had it...

  ~

  It felt like very little time passed when I was yanked from the soft darkness of my slumber back into the warm room by some hasty-sounding noise. Opening my eyes lazily, I saw the amber rays of setting sun falling through the window, an excited Yasenka standing by the open door and a very confused Siaril and Light.

  "If he feels well enough, he can come too," she threw at us before almost running out.

  I turned my head and met Siaril's surprised stare. "What was that about?"

  "I'm... not quite sure. After she woke up, we discussed some things that she had missed during the battle. She was perfectly calm until I told her about Sharish's death. When I told her that we brought his body here, she jumped up like something bit her and told Light to take a walk downstairs... that last sentence probably applied to you. I honestly don't get any of this..."

  "We should find out then..." I took a deep breath and, leaning on my right elbow, tried to sit up. The pain in my side elicited a small hiss, but it wasn't anything I wasn't able to handle.

  "Are you sure...?" there was irresolute disapproval in Siaril's eyes. It deepened when Light mimicked my movement. "Guys... your health is more important..."

  "She's up to something important as well..." Light glanced at the door. "I could tell by the look in her eyes. It's not just some random whim..."

  Siaril sighed, giving us a healthy dose of exasperation. "Fine... Light, can you walk?"

  "I'm just sore, I'll manage."

  Siaril nodded and helped me sit up properly before putting my arm on my unharmed side over his shoulder and lifting me to my feet.

  Once outside, Yasenka's voice called us to the lakeshore on the eastern side of the residence. The earth, freshened by the recent downpour, enveloped us with a pleasant scent, accompanying the forest in delivering the last bits of aroma to the world.

  The illathan was waiting for us in the shade of a small willow that was leaning over the depths like a lady admiring herself in a mirror. Sivath was there as well, guarding the half-covered body of his master's brother, clad in a fresh, elegant robe, skin pale, face stoic, hands folded on his stomach. Something gripped my own and refused to let go. To think I was fighting this man just hours ago, with the intent to kill... Seeing him actually dead made the victory taste weirdly awful...

  "Sorry for pulling you out of the sheets like that, I know you should be resting..." Yasenka started once we came closer.

  "It's fine... I'm guessing it had a good reason."

  "I hope so, the longer we wait, the lower the chance of success... But if this should be the last day of miracles, I wanted you to witness it. And be there just in case."

  "You have no idea how confused I am..."

  Yasenka smiled. "Hopefully, you won't be in a minute."

  She kneeled down on Sharish's right side, gesturing us to sit on the other. Taking her sirath from her neck, she gently placed it in the centre of Sharish's torso, giving him a small, respectful bow of her head. Until then, I was doing my best to not look at his white features to not get nightmares, but at that point, I got captivated...

  Yasenka covered the broken crystals with her hand, placing the other on her heart. As she closed her eyes, a whisper in illathan joined the breeze... or was it the language of the elves? It sounded a little different from what I occasionally heard in the illathan camp... similar, but more melodious somehow. The murmur of the surrounding forest seemed to fade slightly, as if the trees started to listen as well, intrigued by the sound.

  The moment it fell silent completely, a soft glow came from underneath Yasenka's hand, making her fingers look like they were made of the most delicate porcelain. When she retreated it, taking the sirath back, it looked no different.

  But the looks Light and Siaril gave me made it obvious that they felt it too.

  Something strange joined the wind as it returned to the lake. Something... powerful. The breath of the water seemed way more distinct now, more... saturated. So did the freshness of the forest, even the sun seemed to warm us more gladly now. Only the birds were silent, probably just as startled as we were.

  "What..." that was all that Light managed to get out before a few things happened one after another, rendering all three of us utterly speechless.

  I dismissed the impression that Sharish's hand twitched slightly as a delusion caused by my recent blood loss and the fact that I never had to stare at a dead body for this long. But... no, that wasn't a dead body anymore. The mage's face suddenly started to gain color... It took just a moment and his eyelids moved, revealing the dead-grayish eyes that turned into a lively green in the split of a second, like a butterfly opening its wings that are colorful only on the inside, presenting them to the wind to take... I realized that I never even paid attention to the hue of his eyes before...

  I didn't even really register the short bark when Sivath started to wave his tail, making the grass rustle. Yasenka did say something about miracles, but this...?

  Sharish looked to her, then to me and Siaril, his gaze finally coming to rest on Light. "Don't tell me you all pathetically let yourselves get killed by a bunch of kanh..." he rasped out.

  "I understand why seeing a guy with wings would make you confused, brother, but this is not dragon heaven, sorry," Light shifted slightly closer, so we did the opposite to give them space. "Besides, who in their right mind would even allow a Caydranth to go there, if a place like dragon heaven really existed?"

  Sharish sighed, closing his eyes again. "That's really you alright..."

  "If I didn't know better, I'd say you sound relieved."

  "Maybe I am..."

  "Well, it was Yasenka who saved me. And now she did the same for you. Don't you think she deserves a thanks? And maybe an apology to go with it?"

  "Thanks? Apology?" Sharish sat up, wincing. "You all ruined my plans and months of hard work..."

  "I still stick to the theory that it was stupid..."

  "I'll have to prove you wrong then."

  "If you're going to do that..." Yasenka interrupted this lovely family dispute, "you're going to have to take into account that you'll have to erase yourself along with others this time."

  "Excuse me?"

  "Your plan was to eradicate non-magical beings, wasn't it? Well... that's what you are right now."

  "What..." Sharish looked down on himself, before lifting his hand slightly and opening his palm. He frowned, like he was putting effort into something, then shot Yasenka a glare that would definitely have killed her if things like that were actually possible. "What did you do?!"

  "You didn't think resurrection comes cheap, did you?" Yasenka stayed calm, perfectly confident in his harmlessness. "I stripped you of all magic abilities. And I mean all. Your inborn ones are gone, the shards belong to Light. You'll now know how it feels to be helpless in front of magic, like the humans you killed did... this will be your punishment."

  "There are other ways..." Sharish growled lowly.

  "If you're thinking of stealing them from me once more... think again," Yasenka raised her hands as if in a surrounding gesture, but I immediately knew that wasn't it. The thought invaded my head before, but now it gained essence.

  "By the way, did you just..."

  I didn't manage to finish because Yasenka was already smiling, a confirming and delighted smile, the level of brightness I've never seen from her before.

  "You feel it, don't you?" she asked. "That was the only way. There is no such magic, no such mage in this world who is able to resurrect living beings. Only the one who gives life since the dawn of time is capable of doing that - Nature. And the only way to set the magic that was bestowed upon me free was exactly that - to rekindle the flame of a life."

  "But then... why didn't you do it before?"

  "Oh, I found out only a few days ago, when I was in the Silivren Forest."

  "How?"

  "The notebook you found in Shinestone, Sig. It... has hidden text inside that reacted to my sirath, just like in the Dracascarion. It described the real purpose and proper way of performing that ritual."

  I blinked. "This whole time... all those mages were chasing the wrong thing? And you gained those powers by pure accident during a mishap?"

  "Yep," the illathan shrugged carefreely. "It seems Sylvariel was trying to resurrect someone... though there was nothing about his personal goal written in the notebook, just the true process to get to it."

  "So you won unimaginable magic in a one in a million coincidence..." grumbled Sharish, "and decided to throw it away for me."

  "Think of it as payback. You held me captive before... now, you set me free," Yasenka let out a delighted sigh. "For the first time since so many years... truly free..."

  The mage silently looked away.

  A sudden, powerful gust of wind sent the cloth that was covering him away onto the waves of the lake. We all looked up to see Armailith hovering above the mansion, preparing to land carefully. The birds she scared away from the eastern shore carried the remnants of the amber light up into the darkening sky along with panicked cheeps. On her back sat Ertralia and Phaladriel, both giggling and excited. She probably took them on a ride to distract them. There were enough people worrying and nursing us already...

  "What in Earlindon did you do that brought Sigrian and Light to their feet again?" the dragoness wondered. "I thought that..." the air suddenly vibrated when she lowered her head and growled, Ertralia's terrified squeak drowning in the sound.

  "It's alright," Yasenka quickly stood up, approaching them and already starting to explain.

  "Sharish..." Light looked to his brother again. "Can we... talk? I have a nice room on the top floor."

  The former mage was quiet for really long, so long that I thought he decided to not talk to anyone ever again. Eventually though, he threw a grumpy: "Fine..." his way.

  "I guess I'll go cook something then," Siaril offered, watching them head to the mansion. Sharish staying close and ready to support his brother should any pain come back somehow warmed the heart. "You could use a proper meal, you still don't look very good."

  "You all could really stop reminding me of how disgusting I look. It's bad for my ego."

  Siaril laughed. "Why don't you do something about it then? To bed with you."

  "Yessir," I grinned. "I mean if you carry me, that is."