To know a monster wasn’t a crime. Many of the people in the raider’s villages had been victims themselves.
But that hadn’t stopped him, had it?
He’d slaughtered his way through one body after another until he found answers and now that all the men were dead, he found he could no longer sleep without the blood on his hands binding him as if shackling him to the earth.
Screams woke him in the night and although he’d give anything to turn back time and undo some of his actions, he could not.
He’d planned to end his sorry existence once he’d found vengeance. But he couldn’t. His guilt, the choices he’d made, he couldn’t leave this world until the scales were balanced and it would take more than just his lifetime to make amends for the wrongs he’d done while chasing vengeance.
Asrel was primed for the ritual, the hilt wedged between two huge rocks, strong enough to take his weight.
Until the wrongs are righted… He lifted his eyes skyward, searching for the star that must hold Fael’s soul.
Our souls cannot be together, my love. My pride, my fear, it cost you your life. Then, in my rage, I took innocent lives. My actions will forever be a barrier between us, but I can’t leave this world without trying to balance the scales.
Be at peace, my love.
He’d hoped she would find peace. He would never know it. He didn’t deserve it.
Such a powerful enchantment, he’d never known its equal.
It had taken him well into the evening hours to make the preparations.
The circle of salt was as thick in width as his thigh, and the diameter was easily the span of a lodge tent. He slashed his wrist deeply with a spelled knife, one that would keep his own enchanted body from healing itself as he paced the blood circle thrice.
“Until the wrongs are righted, inside the sword I dwell.” He said the words three times as he made the circles.
Then, inside the circle of salt and blood, he rammed his body home on the blade.
As his body died, his soul was trapped inside the sword.
His final fleeting thought as the ties to his mortal coil fell away were about Fael. He’d missed out on a lifetime with her. How could he have been so foolish?
He drifted on, but this time to a place he had not traversed before. And to a face he had not seen in all the millennia that he traveled the earth—not since that night had he seen her outside of his memories.
“Fael…” he whispered hoarsely.
“Irian.” She lifted a hand. “Come…sit. It’s been ages since we shared a fire at night.”
Confused, he looked around and found they were in a lodge tent, one that bore a striking resemblance to the one he’d called home…eons ago.
Drawn to her, he crossed the thickly woven mat until he could kneel in front of her.
“So sad,” she whispered, studying him. Her husky, warm voice stroked over him like a satin caress and her inky-black curls fell over his body as she leaned down to kiss his stunned face. “You have become so sad. Love, why must you torment yourself? Have you not chained yourself to your own guilt long enough?”
“Fael? Are you really here?”
She smiled and lifted his hands to her face. “I am really here, love. Lover. My heart. This is madness, you know. Clinging to this guilt. Can you not let it go? Isn’t it time you released yourself from these shackles and came to me?”
“I…” Swallowing, he shook his head. “I cannot. I made an oath. I’m bound.”
“Bound to your guilt, lover mine.” She brushed his hair back, the gesture achingly familiar even after all this time. “So many years you have walked this earth, buried inside a metal body, carrying out vengeance for those who cannot do it themselves, with your broken heart and your aching loneliness. You made mistakes in your grief. But it’s time you let them go.”
“No. What I did...the lives I took, those are more than mistakes.” The warmth of her hands was a soothing balm on the ragged, open wound of his still grieving soul. He didn’t deserve her touch, or her comfort. But when he tried to pull away, she stopped him.
Her soft hands had become like velvet braces and he couldn’t break free. But, he didn’t try very hard.
“You’re right. You did horrible things,” Fael said, her thumbs rubbing the backs of his hands. “And you’ve spent thousands of years in limbo, trapped in that sword, going from one master to another as you tried to make amends. You’ve done enough.”
“It will never be enough.” He shook his head, staring past her while memories flooded him. “You left because I refused you. I threw your love away and you left. You never would have been out there if it wasn’t for me,” he said, rage blinding him.
“Untrue,” she said quietly. “I would have gone as escort and bride witness to Mele. She’d asked months earlier and I’d agreed. She was my cousin and dearest friend.” Her eyes softened even more as she stroked his cheek. “Because I was there, she didn’t die alone. Because I was there, neither did the others. It’s…a small comfort, but a comfort nonetheless. And you came for me, as I knew you would. So I wasn’t alone in the end, either. Again, my warrior…let this guilt go. My death isn’t on your hands. And the death of the innocents...you gave up thousands of years helping others find vengeance, protecting the lost. Your scales are balanced. More than balanced.”
All around them a gentle silvery light glowed and pulsed, and a soft wind played with their hair.
“‘I cannot change the enchantment,” Irian said, the weight inside him so heavy. But it was…different now. Was she speaking truth? Was he perhaps guilty of less than he believed? No. “The enchantment was spoken and cast. It must be fulfilled. The wrongs must righted, the balance found, Fael.”
Her lips, soft, warm, sweet as celatier wine, covered his and Irian groaned roughly, burying his hands in her hair and crushing her tightly to him.
But she broke the kiss and pushed him back when he tried to bring her mouth back to his.
“Your own guilt has affected the scales.” She shook her head. “If you’d just surrender that guilt and let it go, we could be together.” She touched his cheek. “Let it go. And come to me. Find me. Please, my warrior. Come to me. I long for you…”
* * * * *
Irian was jerked into awareness.
It was morning, the sky still gray in the pre-dawn light.
Around him, the others slept.
“Come to me…find me. I long for you.”
Fael. Sweet Fael. Ahh, so long. Is it possible? Was it possible that after this was all done, he could be with her?
Slipping out of the metal casing of the sword, he prowled around the camp before coming to a stop near the swordsman and the lovely Wildling-fae.
Like Fael, Tyriel had captured a piece of his heart without trying.
Unlike Fael, she wasn’t for him, never would be, never had been.
He settled on the ground, keeping his presence concealed should anybody waken as he pondered the sleeping woman.
“We find a way to fight for her. Or…we let her go, so she can find peace.”
Jaren’s words echoed in him, a burr in his brain he couldn’t dislodge.
Fight for her. Irian considered that. Peace was something he had no experience with, although he longed for it.