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They returned to Lycia a week after they had slain that last fire dragon, to a ravaged country that needed rebuilding. Lyn tried her best not to tear up when she saw the spires of Caelin Castle in the distance.
She had to leave them now. Yes, people had left them at the port in Badon, but this was her departure. She would have to return to her life as the daughter of Marquis Caelin. She would have to leave all these friends she had made.
And, most of all, she had to leave—
“Hey.”
Lyn blinked, jolting herself out of her train of thought. When she turned, her heart twisted. This was exactly what she had been worried about.
“Are you okay?” Hector’s hand reached out to rest on her shoulder gingerly. “You’re falling behind.”
When Lyn glanced over his shoulder, she started. The rest of the group had already moved ahead, entering the woods that led to Caelin Castle. When had she fallen so behind?
She turned her attention back to Hector, swallowing harshly. She couldn’t in good faith tell him the truth—the truth that would surely make him feel guilty, a feeling he already had that didn’t need to be exemplified. Hector must have seen it in her eyes, because he drew his arm around her shoulders wordlessly and began to walk with her.
“...What were you thinking about?” Hector murmured.
“Just… the end of it all.” Lyn glanced up at him, a sigh escaping her lips. “I almost can’t believe it. That it’s…”
“Over?”
Lyn pursed her lips. Yes, there was the word that she didn’t want to say. It was over now. Their campaign was over. Their fight was over now. “Was it that obvious?”
“Not really. It’s just that I know you.” When Lyn looked up at him, Hector was staring out ahead. She leaned into his touch, sighing softly.
“...I don’t want to leave,” she admitted in a hushed voice. “It’s… strange, really. I didn’t think that it… would end up like this. I didn’t think that I would want to stay on this journey for… for a long time.” Hector didn’t say anything, so Lyn kept speaking. “When we first started… I didn’t think we would go this far.”
“We, hm?”
“I meant the campaign. And, well… us.” She hadn’t expected to fall in love.
Hector snickered, and when Lyn glanced up to look at him Hector was grinning widely. “Trust me, I didn’t expect this either.”
“Hector!” Lyn cried in a mockingly angry voice, but she smiled back at him when he turned his gaze down to her. “Well… I don’t think either of us did.”
She wondered what was next. They hadn’t even properly courted yet. They had only realized their feelings for each other on the onset of the possible end of the world. Now, they were at the end of their journey. Would they get another time? Another opportunity?
“I’m sure we will.” At his words, Lyn tried to hold back a blush and turned her gaze up to the sky. Hector always could read her well—a little too well, at times like these. “I’m sure we will… as long as you’re willing, I mean.”
“Of course I’m willing.”
“You’re sure? I’m not asking because I doubt you, I ask you because I know how hard being Marquis Ostia is. If you don’t want that life, that’s okay.”
“I’m sure, Hector. Beyond a shadow of a doubt.”
“Okay.” He drew her closer. She rested her head against his shoulder. “...We’ll work it out.”
“...We will.”
And then, silence. Pressed up against Hector, he shielded her from the leaves and branches of the forest; in return, she helped him leap nimbly over hidden roots. There was something comforting about his presence at her side—so inexplicably comforting.
It was easy to forget the inevitable.
But it was called the inevitable for a reason. When they made it out of the forest, a ways behind the rest of the group, Caelin Castle loomed over her in a way she never knew a building could. Hector’s arm remained wrapped around her shoulder, even when they emerged from the woods and were not hidden by the trees. She didn’t make any attempt to move away, even when they made their way up the hill towards their companions who were waiting outside the castle.
For a moment, Lyn let Hector guide her and turned her gaze up to the sky. It was bright blue, but in a different way that Sacaen skies were. Lycia was less vibrant in some ways, but more vibrant in others; the blue skies were as lively as the people. In Sacae, the skies were more turquoise skies than they were blue skies—as though a reflection of the grassy green plains and the nomads who lived there.
“Lyndis?”
Lyn started, turning to look at Eliwood; she hadn’t even realized how long she had spent musing. She swallowed heavily and pushed herself out of Hector’s grasp. “I suppose… this is goodbye.”
“Lyndis, I… I cannot thank you enough for everything.” Eliwood ran a hand through his hair, a nervous laugh escaping his lips. “I’m sorry I don’t have anything for you.”
“It’s alright, Eliwood. Really. This entire journey was… everything I could have asked for. It means more to me than any sort of thanks you could say.”
“Are you sure? Surely, there must be something else I can do…”
“I’m sure, Eliwood. I’m sure. You’ve already done more than enough for me. I—”
Reality came crashing down on her. Lyn swallowed harshly, sweeping her gaze over the group she had spent the last three months with. A final goodbye, and then it would all be over.
“We have all afternoon, Lyndis,” Eliwood reassured with a smile. “We’ll be here until you leave.” Lyn laughed softly and turned to her Caelin companions—Florina, Wil, Sain, and Kent.
“You heard Eliwood. We have all afternoon. Say your farewells… and take as much time as you need.” Lyn watched them scatter for a long, long time before she finally turned to the man who had stood there, waiting for her.
“I’m sure you have other people to wait for,” she said with a slight smile, but somehow she knew what his answer was going to be.
“I didn’t have anyone else to wait for.” Hector gave her a wry smirk in response, and reached his hand out. “If you don’t have anyone else to wait for either… then…”
She regarded it with a smile, and what she was sure was a triumphant glimmer in her eyes. She wanted nothing more than to take his hand, to let him lead her away to a place where they would never be seen. But instead, she took his hand and stood firm. “Of course I have other people to say goodbye to,” she joked, and tugged Hector along. “So you can come along.”
Hector rolled his eyes but followed along when she tugged his hand, falling in step beside her. Gently, he squeezed her hand. Lyn kept her gaze ahead, but she smiled. There was something comforting about the way her hand seemed to fit seamlessly in his, like a sword and its sheath. As though they were made for each other from the beginning, or that they were meant to at least be something.
That was why she didn’t let go of his hand, even as she bid everyone farewell. Pent and Louise eyed them with a knowing gaze, Priscilla gave Lyn a bittersweet smile, and Eliwood just laughed softly.
“We’ll meet again,” Eliwood said with a smile. Lyn tugged Hector forward, and pulled them both into a tight hug.
“Yes, we will,” she reassured, laughing. Hector’s arms wrapped around both of them, lifting them clear off the ground. Lyn yelped, fear shooting her heart for a moment before she remembered that it was Hector—that he was right here. She leaned into his touch and kept her arms wrapped around her companions until Hector finally let them both down.
“Keep in touch, Lyndis.” Eliwood squeezed her shoulder gently. “If you ever need anything… I’ll be more than willing to help you.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, smiling. “I’m glad we met, Eliwood…”
“That should be my line,” Eliwood said with a similarly grateful smile. “I, too, am glad we met, Lyndis… I really am.”
And with that, she was left with just one person to say goodbye to. Lyn turned to look at Hector, who just smiled and pulled her back a few steps—away from the crowd. They couldn’t go running off into the woods, so this would have to do for now.
Yes, for now. The realization made her break into a great smile that had Hector frowning.
“What’re you smiling about?”
“I know I’ll see you again,” Lyn said, unable to keep the grin out of her voice. “It isn’t goodbye… not like it is with them.”
“I’m sure you’ll see Eliwood and Ninian again. Other coincidences might happen, too.”
“Yes, but…” There was something special, knowing she would see him again—something special that hadn’t been there even two months ago. “It’s special. I know it.”
Hector didn’t say anything—just turned his face away in an unsuccessful attempt to hide the bright red blush on his face. Lyn laughed and squeezed his hand. Seeing him, the man who was so proud and upfront, get flustered was such a rare sight, she couldn’t help laughing.
“How endearing,” she said, and reached up to cup his cheek. She pressed her hand there for a moment before lowering it and finding his other hand.
“Shut up,” he muttered back, but squeezed her hands. “...Take care of yourself.”
“You too,” she replied; she stepped closer. “Will you let me—”
In the time she had taken to respond, he had looked in her eyes and seemed to understand what she wanted. Before she could finish her sentence, he took her chin between his fingers and pulled her into a kiss. It was strange, an action that neither of them had ever properly done before, but it was also familiar. Everything felt safe whenever it came to Hector.
No, perhaps it was the other way around. Hector made everything feel familiar and safe. Yes… that seemed right.
He drew away and she stared up at him, his head outlined against the bright blue sky. Her face felt like it was burning and she was sure her mouth was still hanging open and her hair was still sticking to her face from the sweat of the trek up to the castle, but this? She knew beyond a shadow of a doubt.
This was perfect. This was everything she wanted.
~ / . / . / ~
“Oh, for Durban’s sake—”
“Is everything okay?”
Hector’s head snapped up, and he turned around with disbelief written all over his face. “What are you doing here?”
“Just came to check up on you,” she said with a smile. “Matthew told me you could use some… help.”
“Who let you in here?” Hector scowled, but abandoned his position in front of the mirror so he could approach her.
“Oswin and Serra snuck me in when no one was looking.” Lyn stood on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his neck, smiling. “Why?”
“No, it’s just… you weren’t supposed to come see me until everyone else was allowed.”
“Well, I think I can break some rules, don’t you? Besides… no one’s going to object to my being here. Not when I’m the one who helped you pick out all of this.” To emphasize her point she tugged at his tunic, and then let go of him. “Here, let me help you.”
And the day continued on. Guests came and went, but Lyn stayed at Hector’s side through it all. Mark’s departure made her heart ache more than it should have—she had spent so long with them, and now they were leaving. It was so hard to believe.
But the day continued on, no matter how she felt. Mark left. Eliwood took up the seat beside her.
“May I present, Marquess Ostia.”
The archbishop bowed and stepped aside, letting Hector step forward and wave to all the people within the crowd. Lyn and Eliwood were the first ones on their feet, clapping and smiling. Hector smiled and bowed heavily. “I will be a ruler you are proud of,” he vowed.
If anyone noticed the way Hector’s gaze lingered on Lyn throughout the whole ceremony, they didn’t say anything about it at the afterparty—nor did they say anything about how Hector and Lyn danced all night together, laughing and shoving each other around in a way that two nobles would never dare to.
~ / . / . / ~
“If I may…”
“Of course, Lord Hausen. What is the matter?”
Lyn swallowed and tried to avoid Hector’s gaze from the head of the table, though she could feel the way it stayed trained on her—as if piercing through her to see exactly what she was thinking and feeling. She knew it was silly to try and avoid his gaze. He could always read her better than anyone else.
“I am sure you can already tell… but my health is waning. I fear I have not much longer in this world…” Lyn’s hand tightened around her grandfather’s, and he squeezed back with all the strength he could muster. “And so… I would like to address the wishes of my granddaughter, Lyndis, who will be inheriting Caelin.” Lord Hausen took a deep breath, and then continued to speak. “It is both mine and her wish… that she be wed. And she has already chosen a husband.”
“What?” the Marquess of Araphen scoffed. “Have you not taught your granddaughter, Lord Hausen? A marquess or marchioness must court and have the approval of the Lycian League before they are allowed to wed.”
“Marquess Araphen,” Lord Hausen admonished with a furrowed brow, “I did not say that she had already married. I am simply saying that a marriage has been arranged…”
“And? Who is this husband-to-be? I hope you have brought him here today.”
“Of course. He is already here.” Lord Hausen nodded to the man sitting at the head of the table. “It is Lord Hector.” All attention pivoted to Hector immediately, gazes as sharp and puncturing as a sword. No one seemed to be able to find any words to say, so Lord Hausen continued. “And, as for the future of Caelin… there is none. My granddaughter and I have both agreed… Caelin should be annexed by Ostia.”
And it was then that it all exploded into a cacophony. The table full of Lycian Alliance leaders began to hurl accusations and objections so quickly, Lyn could barely follow what they were saying. It was all a blur to her, a jumble of Elibean tongue that even Hector, who was raised on that tongue and that tongue alone, was left looking around in confusion.
“You’ll regret handing Caelin over to that oaf,” Marquess Araphen hissed to Lord Hausen as they were walking out of the meeting hall. Lord Hausen’s hand tightened around Lyn’s—a silent signal to keep calm and level-headed—but she no longer could.
“It was my decision,” Lyn said defiantly, lifting her chin so she could stare Marquess Araphen in the eyes. “Perhaps you should go threaten someone who can’t stand up to you, rather than my grandfather and I. If this is the attitude you will present to me, I will not hesitate to stand against you every step of the way.”
Word of what she had said and done must have gotten back to the rest of the Lycian Alliance lords, because when they reconvened the next morning to discuss the plans further there were no vocal objections; there was only outspoken support from Eliwood, Lord Hausen, and the newly appointed Marquess Santaruz. No other lords spoke up, although she could see the beginnings of a derisive sneer on their lips each time she spoke.
A sense of trepidation settled in Lyn’s gut that day, pressed flush against her heart like the blade of a sword, and remained there. She knew that if she made any wrong move, she could be gone.
Too late did she find out that that was exactly what the other Alliance lords had hoped would happen. They had let her go through all the procedures, and then let that itself destroy her.
They planned it all out—all the little details, every little minute. Caelin was first annexed by Ostia. Lord Hausen became Steward Hausen. Caelin Castle remained, although it was no longer the capital of Caelin. Rather, it became the living place of the steward between the Caelin people and the ostian leaders. Lyn and Steward Hausen appointed Kent as the next steward.
As the spring winds began to sift through Caelin, stirring up the trees and sending leaves drifting in the air, and as the second year anniversary of the Campaign of Fire approached, Lyn prepared for her final departure from Caelin.
And then her grandfather passed away. He went to bed and never woke up. That day, she had been meant to leave Caelin for good. That morning, she had been meant to say her final goodbyes to him.
The sword slipped and severed her heart in two.
“He’s gone,” she sobbed against Hector’s chest when he arrived, to help her with the funeral preparations. Originally, he had been scheduled to come so he could help her through her departure and move into Ostia Castle. Just the thought made her heart break more than it already had broken. “He’s gone, Hector… he’s gone… what…? What do I do…?”
“I’m here,” he whispered softly. “I’m here.”
And somehow, that was more than enough reassurance for her.
~ / . / . / ~
“Something wrong?” Hector asked as soon as she drew away from their good morning kiss. She couldn’t help smiling. The way he could recognize how she felt without needing to say them was always so incredible to her.
“...A little bit,” she admitted, twirling a strand of green hair between her fingers.
Hector pushed himself up onto his elbows, lying on his stomach as he watched her. “Tell me about it.”
Lyn sighed. He wanted her to tell him about it, but how could she? What could she say? There were no words to describe just how she felt.
It must have shown on her face, because Hector smiled and leaned over to kiss her again softly. “Take your time.” He pushed himself to sit up; she watched the movement with a smile and an appreciative eye. “I’ll always be here.”
“I know you will.” She reached out to press her hand against his knee and pushed herself up to meet his lips again. “I’ll think about it for a little bit. Go get dressed.”
Hector hummed with a soft smile, pushing himself out of bed. Lyn watched him go before she laid down on the bed, sighing.
What was the matter? Ever since the moment she had woken up, there had been this nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach. It had even caused her to wake up early—early enough that the sun’s rays had barely even slipped through the curtains of their window. She had spent that time tossing and turning, shifting her attention from her husband’s sleeping form to the geometric patterns of their shared blanket to the growing stripes of sunlight on the floor.
All that time spent wondering, and yet she still had not figured out what this terrible, sinking, nagging feeling was.
It could not be about her grandfather. Yes, she missed him terribly, but her responsibilities as Marchioness Ostia had kept her busy after the grieving period. And this feeling was not something of grief. It was longing, but not just for someone. It was for something much more complex than just for someone or something.
Lyn sighed again and stared at the wall, then stared at the closet that Hector had left open when he had collected his clothing. He had gone behind the partition to change and tend to his appearance, leaving Lyn somehow both alone and not alone in the bedroom. Her eyes roamed the racks, and let her eyes pause on her tunic. It was the same one she’d worn during the Campaign of Fire, kept simply for nostalgia’s sake, even if there were much too many holes and tears in it.
And suddenly it all made sense. She wanted to go back. She wanted to see the plains. She wanted to escape the stuffy, cooped-up feeling of being a marchioness and be free again, out on those skies she hadn’t been under for so long.
She missed home. Just the thought of it made her tear up. Yes. Sacae was her home, and she wanted to go back. It wasn’t that she didn’t feel at home in Ostia. No, she was just… homesick. Homesick for the place she spent her childhood, and homesick for the place she journeyed away from and had not returned to.
“...I want to go back to Sacae,” she said loudly without realizing it, and then swallowed. “No. Forget I said that, that’s selfish for me to ask. I—”
“...Okay. Let’s go.”
Lyn started up, turning to stare at Hector. He was standing in the doorway, arms crossed with his gaze trained on her.
“Let’s go. I’ll need to spend the rest of today assigning duties, but we can leave tomorrow. I’ll also need to write letters to the alliance leaders, but—Lyn? Are you okay?”
She was crying now, tears streaming down her face. She turned away to wipe her eyes, swallowing harshly. “Do I look okay?”
Hector didn’t answer that question—just made his way across the room to sit at her side. She almost didn’t notice, with a hand held up to her face as she tried to push back her tears. Her breath was coming out in harsh, short little gasps now. Breathe, she tried to remind herself, but the idea just kept coming back. They were going to Sacae, they were going back home, they were going back to her home—
A hand rested on her back. She didn’t even need to look to know that it was Hector’s.
“You’ll show me around, won’t you?”
Lyn swallowed and let out a slight laugh. “I will… I will.” She leaned into his touch, resting her head on his shoulder when he moved his arm to wrap around her shoulders. His presence was so warm and reassuring, and yet she still almost couldn’t believe that they were really going back home. “Hector—”
“Is it hot during this time? What kind of clothes should I bring?”
“Hector—”
“Who should we visit? It might be hard to find Rath and Guy, but—”
She leaned up to kiss him, a smile creeping over her lips when he started but reciprocated easily. There was something so freeing about being held in Hector’s arms like this; it was different from the freedom of the plains and different from the freedom of holding a sword or a bow gave her, but it was… better, in some way.
“...You’re okay?”
“I am,” she reassured with a smile, and leaned up to kiss him again. “...I love you.”
“I love you too,” he replied with a soft smile. “...You’ll be alright. I’m right here.”
“You are.” Lyn smiled and met his gaze for a moment before she pecked him again. “Come on. We have some preparations to do.”
“Mhm.” Hector hummed, but neither of them moved. Lyn sighed and leaned into his touch before she pushed herself to stand and get up. She stared down at him for a moment before she leaned down to peck his forehead. Hector’s hand found hers, intertwining their fingers. There was something so tender about the way he held her—another reminder of just how much he loved her. “Okay. Let’s go.”
~ / . / . / ~
And they did. They left for Sacae the next day, Lyn’s old tent strapped to her horse’s saddle. No one and nothing else went with them—just them, their weapons, a tent, and their horses.
“We live a very simple life on the plains,” Lyn had explained the night before. “We don’t need anything. We camp where Father Sky guides us to good weather, and we get our food because Mother Earth provides.”
Lyn took in a deep breath, smiling instinctively when she took in the Sacaen air. Blue skies, grass blades waving in the breeze, and the sound of dirt shifting beneath their horses’ hooves; she was back. Sacae. The wind, biting at her skin, was not an unwelcome feeling in the least—it was welcome.
“Father Sky, Mother Earth…” she breathed, her shoulders shaking as she took in breaths. She was back home. She was finally, finally back home. Truthfully, she didn’t know why she was trembling. Was this what a homecoming felt like?
Her hands moved instinctively. She pulled her horse to a stop and stepped down from the saddle, closing her eyes and just taking in Sacae—her homeland.
Yes, she was home. At that realization, she fell to her knees and took in the itching feel of grass against her bare skin. Oh, how long had it been? Almost four years now, since she had met Mark and set out on that fateful journey to claim the other half of her heritage.
But she would never—no, could never—let go of the life she had been raised to follow.
She was home.
When she lifted her head to take in a deep breath, Hector joined her side—sitting in the grass, taking in the life of the plains. Lyn turned to look at him, an apology on her lips, but he shook his head with a knowing smile.
“We’re here,” he murmured. “We have as much time as you want.”
And he was right. They had planned to spend three weeks in Sacae, but had allocated two extra weeks in case of “emergencies”. Five weeks was more than enough time to roam the plains and be one with Father Sky and Mother Earth once again.
Lyn smiled and leaned forward to kiss him softly. It was soft and light, like the clouds floating in the sky, and reminded her so much of their first kiss beneath the spires of Caelin Castle. She stared at him for a little bit, just taking in his bright blue eyes and his bright blue hair, and with a smile she pushed herself to stand up.
“Okay. Let’s go.”
They spent hours on horseback, just traversing the plains. She pointed out every landmark, outlined against the blue skies, she had grown up with, and in response he paid it all homage. The Sacaen prayer to Father Sky and Mother Earth was hard to master for an Ostian like him—so used to syllables of the Elibean tongue—but he tried his best, and she really couldn’t ask for anything else.
They came across many companions on their trip; first, the Kutolah clan. Lyn bowed in respect to the Silver Wolf Dayan while Hector waved to Rath and Guy. Then it was Heath, flying overhead on his trusted stead Hyperion. He stopped for brief conversation, but had to take off for fear of being recognized. Sacae, after all, was much too close to Bern to be safe for him to stay. Then it was Karel, who said nothing—simply challenged them both to a duel, and then left as quickly as he had arrived.
And through it all, Lyn smiled and pointed and looked and revelled in the feeling of finally, finally being home.
~ / . / . / ~
Their child was born on Sacaen land, because she had insisted it be so. Father Sky breathed life into them from the stars above the plains, and Mother Earth formed their body from the grass beneath.
“Lilina,” Lyn whispered, the name so familiar on her lips. “My daughter…”
“She’s beautiful,” Serra murmured, and then shifted so she could stand up. “I’m going to go get Lord Hector… okay?”
“...Okay.” Lyn’s attention remained fixated on her daughter, watching the way the little baby moved about jerkily as if she were trying to escape—likely because she was wrapped up in a blanket.
Serra stayed at Lyn’s side for a moment before she began to move away, slipping out of the tent. Lilina’s eyes remained closed, but she yawned slightly. Lyn smiled and leaned forward to press a soft kiss to her daughter’s forehead.
“My daughter,” she whispered. The tent flap opened up, and she glanced up to see Hector; he was already settling down beside her. “...Our daughter.”
“Our daughter,” he repeated, and swallowed harshly. When Lyn looked over at her husband, she could see that he was tearing up. She raised a hand to cup Hector’s cheek, and smiled slightly when she saw the tears welling up in his eyes. He never cried—to see him tearing up made Lyn’s heart flare up with warmth and love so indescribable and yet so comforting.
“Don’t cry…” Lilina whined slightly, and Lyn smiled. “See…? Lilina agrees.” With gentle arms, she lifted Lilina up. “Do you want to hold her…?”
“Of course I do,” Hector whispered, and accepted Lilina from Lyn. He helped Lyn sit up so she could lean her head against his shoulder before he turned his full attention to Lilina. “Lilina…”
The little baby cried out, her arms jerking slightly as she reached for something to hold onto. Her eyes had not yet opened, but Lyn could see from the little tufts on top of her head that she had most certainly inherited her father’s night sky-blue hair.
Hector swallowed and then leaned down to kiss Lilina’s forehead, rocking her back and forth. “Our daughter,” he whispered softly.
“Our daughter,” Lyn murmured back. “Lilina… born beneath the stars and the night sky.”
“She looks just like you.”
“Mhm. Whatever you say.” Lyn was too tired to argue. She rested her head against Hector’s shoulder and turned her head up to the sky. She couldn’t see the stars through the tent, but she could imagine them. She imagined showing them to her daughter. She imagined holding Lilina in her arms and being held in Hector’s arms as they stared up at the sky, looking at the very stars Lyn had been born under.
Ah. This was all she wanted—all she needed.
“...I’m worried.” The tremor in Hector’s words made Lyn open her eyes again and look up at him.
“What about?” she asked.
“Being a parent,” he admitted, looking down at Lilina. “I… my parents…”
“I know,” Lyn whispered, and reached a hand up to cup Hector’s cheek. “I know… but it’ll be okay. We’ll figure it out… and we’ll be okay. I’m worried too… but all we can do is try out best. For her sake.”
For her sake—their daughter, who was born beneath the Sacaen sky and formed of the Sacaen earth.
~ / . / . / ~
“What do you want to hear about today, my little lark?” Lyn asked with a smile. Lilina pressed up against Lyn’s side, snuggling there before she ducked her head beneath Lyn’s arm. Lyn turned to press a kiss to Lilina’s forehead. “So?”
“We’ve already read every tale in this book,” Lilina pointed out, pressing a hand to close the picture book lying in Lyn’s lap. “I want to hear something else.”
“Is that so? Then what do you want to hear about, little lark?”
“I want to hear about you, Mama!” Lilina looked up at her bright, earnest eyes. “Will you tell me a story from Sacae?”
Lyn’s heart twisted slightly. Lilina had been raised by both her and Hector, but she took after her father in so many ways. She had night-blue hair and sky-blue eyes. She was charismatic and charming. She was fiercely loyal.
But if there was one thing Lilina inherited from Lyn, it was certainly her love for her—their—culture. Lyn had raised her on the same traditions she had been raised on: the Sacaen prayer of thanks to Father Sky and Mother Earth, the cycle of birth and rebirth, the importance of hand-woven tunics with those geometric patterns. She taught it all to Lilina, but taught her not the Sacaen tongue.
“Why not?” Hector had asked her one day, after Lilina had been tucked into bed. Lyn had just sighed and clutched the book of Ostian fairy tales to her chest.
“Because I’m scared,” she had admitted. “I’m scared they’ll call her a savage. I’m scared for her future, Hector. They already see her as the daughter of a savage. I… I don’t want her to be seen as a savage. I’ll gladly take the hatred, as long as she is seen as her own person.”
Hector had just looked at her with a look so understanding and yet so helpless that it felt as though she had been wounded by a sword.
“There you two are,” Hector said, and his voice cut off Lyn’s train of thought. Lyn started and glanced up at where he was standing in the doorframe. Lilina moved out of Lyn’s grip and moved to the side of the bed, a great smile on her face.
“Papa!” Lilina stretched her arms out to Hector, and he laughed before wrapping his arms around her.
“Is Mama tucking you in?”
“Mhm!”
“You can stay,” Lyn said with a soft smile, laughing when Hector leaned down to kiss her on the lips. “Move over, Lilina.” Lilina moved to the side so Hector could slip onto the bed beside them. “What were you saying, Lilina?”
“I want to hear about Sacae, Mama!” Lilina said, her eyes glimmering with interest. “Tell me… tell me about that sword, Mama!”
“My sword? The Mani Katti?”
“Mhm! Papa said it’s special!”
“Well, he’s not wrong,” Lyn smiled, stroking Lilina’s hair. “It is very special, my lark. Only I can wield it.”
“Really? That’s amazing, Mama…”
“I received it when I first left Sacae, on my journey to meet your great-grandfather. I went to go pray at an altar… you know what that is, don’t you, my little lark?”
“Mhm! Papa told me all about them!”
“Yes… it was an altar for the Mani Katti. Travelers go there to pray before a journey… and so I went. When I touched the Mani Katti… it glowed. I was the only person who could remove it from its sheath.”
“Can you show me?” Lilina asked, her eyes aglow with curiosity and wonder. There was something about it that made Lyn’s heart fill with warmth—indescribable, overflowing love for their daughter.
“Of course,” Lyn replied with a smile, and pushed herself off of Lilina’s bed. As she stood, a wave of vertigo shot through her. She pressed a hand to her forehead and clutched the bedside to keep her knees from buckling. Although a gasp escaped her lips.
“Lyn?” Hector was out of Lilina’s bed and by her side in the blink of an eye. His hands held her steady, letting her lean against him. She rubbed her eyes, blinking away the black dots swimming in front of her eyes. “Is everything okay?”
Lyn swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. She coughed but managed a reassuring smile. “I’m okay, Hector. Just a bit of dizziness. I’ll be right back. You stay with Lilina, okay?”
Without waiting for an answer, she slipped out of Hector’s arms and into their room. When she placed her hands on the Mani Katti, it let out a dull flash—so dull, compared to the previous times she had held it in her hands.
That feeling in her gut returned. The blade had itself pressed up against her heart again.
~ / . / . / ~
“...It is the same, milord.”
As soon as the words left Serra’s mouth, Hector had his head buried in his hands. Lyn sat there, frozen. Her hands were folded in her lap, and as much as she was trying to get them to move they wouldn’t.
“...I’ll leave you be,” Serra whispered, and left the room. With her gone, there was no speaking. The only sound in the room was that of heavy breaths and deep sighs.
“...What are we going to do?” Lyn finally asked. Her voice sounded hoarse—as though she hadn’t spoken in five years, not just five minutes.
“...I don’t know,” Hector finally answered in a low voice, his head still held in his hands.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
“I’m sorry.” She was tearing up now, beginning to curl in on herself. “It’s the same thing as your parents and your brother, and now it’s me, and I—”
“Lyn.” His hands cupped her cheeks, raising her gaze to his. “Lyn, I’m right here. I’m still right here. You don’t have anything to be sorry for.” Hector’s thumbs stroked her cheekbones. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for… okay?”
Lyn swallowed. “Still…”
“We’ll figure it out together,” Hector reassured, resting his forehead against hers. Lyn swallowed and leaned into his touch, unable to gather any words. “It’ll be hard, but we’ll be okay… we’ll be okay.”
“...Yeah,” Lyn whispered back after a few moments. “We’ll be okay…”
~ / . / . / ~
“That can’t be!” Lilina's voice was high and indignant.
“Lilina,” Hector murmured. Lyn could tell he was trying to act as the rational and level-headed one in this situation. They must have been thinking the same thing—if they panicked, what sort of reaction would that set off on their daughter?
They had to stay calm. For her.
“Please, keep your voices down. She’s supposed to be resting… but you can go see her now,” Serra told them, her voice low and worried.
Footsteps thundered from the entrance of the bedroom, and when Lyn gathered enough strength to lift her head she saw Lilina standing by the folding screen, her face pale and her hand clamped over her mouth. Despite Lilina’s reaction, Lyn managed a small smile—for her daughter.
“My lark…”
“Mother,” Lilina whispered, and then rushed to Lyn’s side. In the blink of an eye, Lilina’s arms were wrapped around Lyn’s waist and her face was buried in the crook between Lyn’s shoulder and neck. “Mother…”
“I’m here, my lark,” Lyn reassured, reaching a hand up to stroke the back of Lilina’s head. “I’m here…” Her daughter… Father Sky and Mother Earth, what was she to do? Even the thought of leaving her was like a blade to her heart. Lilina was only eleven years old. How could she just leave her? Yet, she had to pretend. She had to say that it was all okay.
“Mother…” Lilina was sobbing now. Lyn let her eyes flutter shut and continued to comfort her daughter, brushing her fingers through Lilina’s hair. “Mother… Mother…”
“I love you…” Lyn leaned down to kiss her daughter’s forehead. “I love you, my little lark.”
“Is this… is this really happening…?”
“I’m sorry… but it is.”
“Don’t apologize, Mother… it’s not your fault.” Lilina sniffled and drew away to rub her eyes, but Lyn pressed her hand against Lilina’s head to keep her where she was.
“It’s alright, little lark… let it out.”
Strong arms enveloped both of them, and Lyn didn’t even need to look up to know that it was Hector; he was standing at her bedside, leaning over their daughter to hug them both and hold them tight—not even daring to let them go, as if either of them would disappear if he did.
“You’re strong and courageous… you’ll be alright, my little lark… I know you will.”
“Mother,” Lilina hiccuped, “don’t say that…”
“I’m here, my lark… I’m here.”
“Stay,” Lilina whispered, her arms trembling as she struggled to hold Lyn tighter. “Please… can’t they do something? Miss Serra, Mister Lucius, can’t they do something…?”
“They’ve already done all that they can,” Lyn replied, her voice so soothing that even she herself was startled by how calm she sounded. “My lark… I’m here. It’s okay…”
“Please…” Lilina raised her head to meet Lyn’s gaze. Holding back her guilt, Lyn pressed a kiss to Lilina’s forehead. “Mother…”
“I’m here, my lark…”
“But you won’t be,” Lilina sobbed. Hector’s grip on the both of them tightened. Lyn had to swallow down the choking feelings in her throat, preventing her from breathing. “You won’t be here. What am I supposed to do, Mother…?”
“...I’m sorry, my little lark.” Lyn could find no other words. Lilina just sobbed and held her tighter. “I’m sorry… I know how it feels… I’m sorry, my little lark…”
“What am I supposed to do…?” Lilina whispered. “Mother… please…”
“Believe in yourself, my lark,” Lyn murmured softly, stroking her daughter’s hair. “I’m sorry that I have to leave you… but I’ll always be with you…” She leaned forward to kiss Lilina’s forehead, smiling. “I’m going to go join Father Sky and Mother Earth now… but I’ll always be with you… as long as you look for me, I’ll be with you, my little lark…” She drew away from her daughter, brushing Lilina’s bangs up with one hand so she could press another, proper kiss to her forehead. The warmth of Lilina’s skin was startling to her—like summer heat. Like Lyn herself was the cold metal of a blade. “As long as you look for me, I’ll be with you…”
“...Do you promise?” Lilina said in a soft voice, tears still streaming from her eyes.
“I promise, my lark…” Lyn reached a hand up to wipe away Lilina’s tears, and smiled before she looked over at Hector. He was still holding both of them, his head resting on Lilina’s shoulder. Her hand moved instinctively; she drew her fingers along his cheek and held his chin when he looked up to meet her gaze. “Hector… the Mani Katti, could you…?”
Hector nodded, slowly letting go of both of them before he turned and retreated from the room entirely. Lilina’s arms tightened around Lyn, and she glanced up at Lyn.
“...There was still so much,” Lilina whispered, her voice quivering, “so much I wanted to do with you, Mother…”
“I’m sorry,” Lyn murmured. “I’m sorry…”
“But you’ll always be with me… right?”
“Always, my little lark… I promised you, didn’t I?”
“Anything I do, you’ll be right here with me, won’t you…?”
“I will.”
“...I love you, Mother,” Lilina whispered, and rested her head against Lyn’s neck.
“I love you too, Lilina,” Lyn murmured back, and kissed the top of Lilina’s head. She felt Lilina’s grip tighten around her and realized that she had called her daughter by her name, and not her nickname. Instinctively, she kissed Lilina’s head again. “I love you so much, my Lilina...”
They stayed there in silence, Lilina sitting at Lyn’s side with her arms wrapped around her mother’s waist, until Hector’s silhouette appeared behind the folding screen. Moments later, he was walking into the room with the Mani Katti in his hands.
Lyn made to push herself up, but Lilina held her tight. “You’re supposed to be resting, Mother!” she protested in a stern yet caring voice that made Lyn laugh and lean back. Hector approached her side and pressed the Mani Katti into her hands, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her forehead; Lyn turned and smiled. For a moment, nothing felt wrong. For a moment, they returned to those happy times together as a family. For a moment, there was nothing else other than mother, father, and daughter.
And then the cool feel of the Mani Katti’s sheath, pressed against her palms, brought Lyn back to reality—painful, hurting, cold reality.
Lyn glanced back at Lilina, taking a deep breath before she spoke again.
“My little lark…” Lyn whispered, reaching a hand out to cup Lilina’s cheek, “I know it’s hard for you to accept what’s happening…” Even at those words, Lilina looked at Lyn with eyes full of terror that it scared Lyn to keep talking. Lyn swallowed and forced herself to. “I will always be with you… but I cannot be here, my lark.”
Lyn kissed Lilina’s forehead, and then reached her arms out with a soft smile. Lilina traced the outline of the Mani Katti, stretched out for her to take, with her eyes—those sky-blue eyes that she had inherited from Hector.
“It has chosen you, my lark… with my absence, it will have no caretaker. I leave it to you, my little lark… my daughter.”
“...Me?” Lilina whispered.
“You, my little lark… it has chosen you. Go on… hold it.”
Lilina swallowed and reached a hand out, her hand trembling. Her fingers grazed the sheath, and even from beneath it they all could see the way the Mani Katti glowed in response to Lilina’s touch. That flash of light… so familiar and warm. Lyn remembered how it had felt the first time she had laid her hands on the Mani Katti. The blade was so cold and chiseled, and yet the moment Lyn had touched it it had glowed with an inexplicable heat that only she had been able to sense.
That had been so long ago—more than a decade ago, now. ANd now the same thing was happening to her daughter.
“Mother,” Lilina whispered, swallowing visibly. Lyn reached a hand out to cup her cheek.
“Fear not, my little lark… it will not hurt you…”
At Lyn’s reassurance, Lilina took the sword in both her hands and held it to her chest. “...I have to go,” Lilina whispered, clutching the sword so tight that her knuckles were white. Her voice was tremulous and impossibly soft.
“Lilina…” Lyn started, and then cut herself off when Lilina burst into tears.
“I’m sorry,” Lilina managed to get out, and then dashed out of the room, tears streaming down her face. Lyn watched her go, a piercing feeling of regret nearly cleaving her heart in two. Her daughter’s last memory of her mother would be… this.
“She’ll be okay.” Hector’s voice was soft and reassuring. “It’ll all be okay.”
Lyn turned her attention to him, and found she couldn’t believe his words. She was leaving them. With her departure… she doubted anything would ever be okay again. Hector never cried—she’d witnessed that firsthand. Yet now, looking at him now, she could see the beginnings of tears in the corners of his eyes.
“Will it really?” she whispered softly. “Will it really be okay…?”
“It’ll be okay… it might seem strange now, but it’ll be okay. We’ll take care of each other. It’ll be okay…”
“Father Sky,” she whispered after a moment of silence, because she didn’t know what else to say, “would that you would look over this precious land… and that you would care for these people… Mother Earth… would that you would look after my daughter and my husband… that you would care for them in my place…”
“Don’t say that,” Hector murmured. “You’ll be alright, Lyndis…”
At that, she laughed softly. A strange feeling festered in her heart at the sound of her full name on his—Hector’s, of all people’s—lips. “You’ve never… called me that before…”
Her heart soared at the slight smile that slipped over Hector’s lips, and squeezed his hand when his fingers intertwined with hers. “I guess I never have, have I?”
“You said it once,” she murmured softly. She was finding it harder and harder to catch her breath with each word she said. “Do you remember…?”
“...I think so. It was on the way to the Dread Isle, on Captain Fargus’s ship, wasn’t it?” Hector swallowed, his thumb stroking circles on Lyn’s skin.
“Yes…” Lyn laughed breathlessly. “It was then.” She squeezed his hand with the strength she could muster.
“Then… back then, hm?” Hector swallowed, and raised their intertwined hands to his lips. “It feels so strange… as though we fought Nergal just yesterday.”
“It feels like that, doesn’t it…?” Lyn whispered with a smile. “I… I don’t regret anything. I’m glad… we went through that together. I’m glad… I met you.” That kind of sentence was the kind of sentence she knew he didn’t want to hear, but she had to say it at least once—at least before she left.
She was right. As soon as she said those words, his face twisted into an anguished and desolate expression. “Hey,” he said, his vice firm as he squeezed her hand. “Don’t say that, Lyn. Don’t say that.”
Lyn smiled, leaning backwards so she could rest her head against the headboard. What had she done to deserve someone like him? He had been at her side all this time, through everything. Through her claim as Lord Hausen’s granddaughter and the rightful Marquess Caelin, through the journey to the Dread Isle, through her uncertainty in choosing the future of either her home or his, through her grandfather’s passing, through her return to her native land, through Lilina’s birth, through the passing on of old Lorcan tales, and now through this—her own passing on.
Hector raised her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckle before he enveloped her hand again with both of his. She turned her eyes to meet his gaze and gathered all her strength to sit up. He was at her side immediately, eyebrows knitted together in confusion.
“What’re you—”
She cut him off with a squeeze of his hand and a reassuring smile. “I’m okay,” she reassured him. He frowned.
“Still… you’re supposed to be resting.”
“Hector…” Lyn began in a soft voice, and then found that she didn’t have the courage to finish that sentence. Hector must have seen it in her eyes, because he swallowed harshly and helped her sit up. “You know what I’m going to say.”
“...I know,” he sighed, and there was a look in his eyes that made her hold his hands harder. “Resting… won’t do you any good at this point. You—” and then Hector turned his gaze away. She wanted to tell him not to say it, that if it hurt him too much he shouldn’t say it, but she was the one who had brought it up first.
Lyn reached her arms upwards, wrapping them around his neck and pulling him close. “...Resting won’t do me any good. My time is over,” she finished for him. Hector held her close; Lyn could feel him shuddering against her, so similar to the way she trembled with the effort to hold herself up and yet so different.
She was going. She could feel it. Father Sky and Mother Earth called out for her to rejoin them. There was a piercing guilt in her heart, pressing into her like the tip of a blade.
But they would be alright. She trusted that. And one day, she’d see them again.
“Bury me beneath the sky,” she whispered, “under the plain where Lilina was born.”
Life and death; birth and rebirth; day and night; blue and black.
How cyclical.