Chapter 88 | Farewell | Leah
The night before I left, I went to see Ivy.
She was in the academy's secret medicine lab, mixing some complicated potion. Her brown hair was loosely twisted up with a pencil stuck through it, and her face had green juice on it—some kind of herbal extract that calms the nerves. The lab was thick with the mixed smells of different medicinal ingredients—sweet lavender, bitter mugwort, and that secret medicine she was making, which had a spicy smell.
"You're leaving." Not a question. A statement, a confirmation, an understanding built on twenty years of knowing each other without words.
"How did you know?"
"I could smell it." She said without turning around, the dropper in her hand carefully adding exactly three drops of clear liquid. "The travel herbs on you. And also—"
She turned around and looked at me. Her brown eyes under the lab lights looked like two pieces of amber, holding something I'd never seen before.
"The look in your eyes," she said. "Different from usual. More distant."
I was quiet for a moment. Then—
"Northern border," I said. "Shadow Walkers. Progenitor ruins."
"Dangerous?"
"Very dangerous."
"Will you come back?"
"Yes," I said, my voice sounding more certain than I actually felt, like an iron bar refusing to bend in the wind.
Ivy looked at me. Looked for a long time. Long enough for the candle flame in the lab to flicker, making the shadows on the wall sway with it.
Then she walked over and hugged me tight. Not the usual quick hug, but tight and hard, like she was making sure I was really there. Her body was soft and smelled like medicine, but I could feel her bones—so small, so fragile, yet holding up such a strong soul.
"Promise me," she said, her voice a little choked up, like a string pulled too tight.
"Promise what?"
"Promise you'll come back," she said. "No matter what happens."
"I promise."
She let go of me and took out a small bottle from her pocket. Clear liquid swirled inside, giving off a faint silver glow, like a tiny star trapped in a bottle.
"What is this?"
"My special mix," Ivy said. "It can stabilize bloodline energy in an emergency. If you—"
She paused.
"If you run into energy overload in the ruins, drink this. It can protect your network connection."
I took the bottle, my fingers lightly touching its surface. The glass was cold and smooth, with the silver liquid gently swirling inside.
"Thank you."
"Don't thank me," Ivy said, the corner of her mouth lifting in a tiny smile, that smile holding twenty years of things we'd never said out loud. "Just come back."
Kael was waiting for me at the castle gate.
His dark red wings looked like two flags in the moonlight, his silver-black hair falling over his shoulders, moving gently in the night breeze. Kieran and Christina stood beside him.
"Ready?" Kieran asked. His silver-gray eyes looked like two pieces of cold metal in the moonlight, but with some warmth in them—the warmth of a friend.
"Ready," I said.
"I'll watch over the capital," Kieran said. "The reformist stuff, Parliament stuff, healing research—"
"I'm leaving it to you," Kael said.
Christina stepped forward. She didn't say anything, just reached out and gently straightened my collar. Her fingers were warm and strong, like a mother saying goodbye to a child going on a journey.
"Be careful," she said, her voice smooth as silk.
"I will."
"I'm not talking to you," she said, the corner of her mouth lifting in a knowing smile. "I'm talking to my son."
Kael looked surprised. Then he smiled. It wasn't a big smile, but enough to make the moonlight seem dim.
"I'll be careful," he said. "Mother."
Christina nodded, her eyes moving between us. Her golden eyes held some warmth—not a mother doting on her son, but something more distant, deeper. Like seeing something she'd waited a very long time for finally happen. Like seeing herself three thousand years ago, standing in some similar place, with some similar person, about to go on some similar journey.
Christina nodded. She stepped back, looking at us. Moonlight fell on her silver-white wings, like a thin layer of frost.
Moonlight fell on the castle's stone walls, turning everything silver. The blood rose seedlings swayed gently in the wind—the ones we'd planted, already growing their first leaves. Small dark red leaves, like tiny hearts in the moonlight.
"Let's go," Kael said, holding out his hand.
I took his hand. His fingers were cold, but his palm was warm.
We spread our wings—silver-white and dark red, looking like two moons intertwined in the moonlight.
Then we flew north.
Behind us, the capital's lights slowly got smaller, like a map being folded up. Ivy kept mixing potions in the lab, Kieran handled documents in the Parliament building, Christina tended the blood roses in the castle garden.
Ahead of us was the future.
Imperfect, uncertain, full of unknowns.
But—
we were together.
That was enough.