History, too, spoke highly of Gwendolyn. The day she turned eighteen, her father abdicated the throne to her as promised, and the young woman began a long and prosperous reign. From what Kari had heard from Typhonix and read in some of his books, Gwendolyn was the queen when Celigus Chinchala conquered Terrassia, and she continued to serve with distinction and grace even with the demon king as her emperor.
The thing Kari found confusing and distressing was the fact that Suler himself had disappeared—much like Kari—only a few years after abdicating the throne. Kari had to wonder if he’d been murdered to prevent him from ever taking the throne again, or whether he might’ve died fighting against the conquering demon king. History said only that he disappeared into the forested northlands, serving in the Order of the Western Star—the shakna-rir ranger corps—and was never heard from again.
Kari felt an ache as her thoughts of Suler soon turned to thoughts of Grakin and how deeply she missed him after only a few days. It was strange how different Grakin and Suler were and yet how alike they seemed to her heart and soul. She chuckled bitterly, considering that both of her deepest relationships were of the type that could never last: One with a king, the other with a dying man. Kari wondered if she could find some way to save her mate, to spare him from the coming agony and certain doom since, after all, she herself had been returned from death by a divine favor.
It didn’t take long for reality to settle in, though, and Kari fought off the urge to cry as she considered her circumstance was unique. Never before had anyone been returned from death, certainly not to spare their loved ones the heartache. Whatever the true reason behind Trigonh’s request—whether it was love or, as he’d claimed, that she would help turn the tide of the Apocalypse—Kari had no idea what had prompted the Creator, Gori Sensullu, to fulfill that request and restore Kari to life.
The ethereal sound of her son’s laughter calmed her emotions, and Kari understood that someone—Zalkar, most likely—was telling her what should have been obvious. Grakin would find immortality in the children she bore for him, and in her heart, where a piece of him would live forever. For as long as he lived, Kari and Grakin would raise their children to protect and care for others, just as they did, and those children would in turn bear children, a bloodline strong and true that bore witness to the character of its patriarch. Grakin’s words replayed in Kari’s mind, and she knew she had to choose which of the flames in her life she wished to stoke more: the fire of the demonhunter, or the fire of a mother. She curled one arm under her head while she tapped her fingers on her belly, and chuckled quietly; it was not a difficult choice at all.
Kari drifted into the realm of dreams, and found herself making love to Suler Tumureldi in the palace’s rooftop gardens as the twilight air cooled around them. Even while asleep, Kari realized that she was seeing a memory and not just a dream. Such lucid dreams didn’t alarm her; they had been somewhat common since that fateful day when she met Sakkrass. More than that, they had almost all been pleasant since undergoing the mental exercises with Triela, despite the episode she’d had while giving birth to Little Gray. She had wondered for years if it was Sakkrass sifting through her dreams and memories to get a better feel for the character of his daughter, but she didn’t dwell on it too much. In these lucid dreams, she relived some of the best of her memories.
The first night she gave herself to Suler Tumureldi was one of the most memorable days of her previous life, and one of her happiest memories in general. Kari recalled the lessons from earlier in that day, and the sparring session in which she had landed a significant strike on him for the first time in her training. Her dream remained fixed foremost on their lovemaking. Suler was such a gentleman and his love for her so genuine that it reminded her time and again that she was not the scared little girl that her father had so callously abused. She basked in that, and was reminded that those same traits were what attracted her to Grakin. Something in the core of her soul latched onto the memory, and there was a surge of pleasure as she felt the remnants of her love for Tumureldi one last time, if only ethereally.
Kari shifted in her sleep as she suddenly found herself in bed with Annabelle Sol’ridachi, a friend and fellow demonhunter she had traveled with on several occasions. She had always considered Annabelle a sister, but her relationship with the terra-rir demonhunter had troubled Kari for more than one reason. Annabelle had always wanted more from their friendship, and she seduced Kari one night after both of them had far too much to drink. Though it was a pleasant memory in some ways, Kari was still uncomfortable with it. Relationships between demonhunters were frowned upon, especially in the field. Even more than that, though, was the fact that it blurred her perceptions of Annabelle as a sister. Though they had remained close after the incident, they had crossed a line that Kari regretted, even if Annabelle never had. What made the memory even more painful was the fate that had befallen Annabelle, and the fact that Kari couldn’t save her.
Her dreams turned back to Grakin, her mind working to free itself from the guilt and pain that accompanied the memories of Annabelle. One last time she saw the pale face and dead eyes of her friend, reduced to the undead husk of a vampire, but Kari’s unconscious mind broke free and the memory faded.
She was assailed by warmth and the smell of the ocean. Kari smiled, walking through the knee-high water along Salkorum’s tropical beaches with her mate. In the dream she was carrying Little Gray as well, and her heart fluttered when she saw her belly was swollen with another child. The warmth of the sun seemed to soak directly into her soul as she walked with her family. She wondered at the dream and whether it was an indication of her future, or simply a manifestation of her innermost desires. She assumed it was the latter, but a part of her said that she could make this come to pass, if she was willing to let go of her other passion.
A shadow passed over Kari, and she started to frown up at the clouds. She shivered as a wind too cold to be natural bit cruelly at her flesh. But there were no clouds in front of the sun. It took Kari a moment to realize Little Gray had disappeared from her arms and her belly was no longer swollen.
She turned on instinct to look at Grakin, watched through the fog of her own breath in horror as Grakin’s features began to shift. His cheeks and eyes sank in and the flesh of his snout tightened, and he began to wither and die in front of her. Kari tried to scream but nothing came forth, and she shivered, trying to shake herself out of the dream. She tried to wake herself before Grakin withered away to a husk, but consciousness would not come; something in her dreams had a grip on her.
“Karian!” came the angry call, and her body froze with fear.
The ocean and the harbor of Salkorum turned to ice, trapping her feet, and Kari shivered violently from terror and the cold. She looked over the frozen sea at the man who had hurt her more than every demon and monster she had ever fought. Her knees nearly buckled, but Kari expended every ounce of effort she could simply to swallow, to make some move or gesture to break free of her terrified paralysis. Her mind flashed back across her lovemaking with Tumureldi, to the words he had spoken to her and Triela had reminded her of on Kirelia.
With the thought of the war wizard came the strength the young woman had unlocked in Kari. No longer was she a terrified young girl, and in her dream, she remembered that she was a demonhunter, a war hero, the slayer of a demon prince and a thousand demon minions before it. Her nightmare turned and she found herself in her paluric armor, her scimitars in hand, and even the memory of her father stopped as it beheld her.