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The For’ard Cabins were quiet by the time G’raha Tia finally made his way back to their room by the sea, his steps hushed though his heart thundered like a war drum in his chest. The sea breeze wafted in faintly through the windows, carrying the distant cries of gulls and the scent of salt and ship tar—a strangely grounding balm after the chaos they’d both just endured.
His heart had been in a vice for bells.
Hypshay’d delivered Sphene safely back to Alexandria. He, meanwhile, had dragged the unconscious and utterly aether-drained Vow of Resolve back to Koana—who had all but burst into accusations of negligence before reason, or perhaps Alphinaud’s diplomacy, softened his stance. The Vow of Reason had finally bowed his head in apology, though the fire in his eyes didn’t quite die.
As soon as he stepped outside after this whole errand was done he reached for his linkpearl and called her again. There were just too many times when one moment she’s there and the next she’s gone—and he honestly could not bear it again—not even for a few more bells.
Static crackled faintly. Then her voice answered and his heart beat again.
“On my way out of Solution Nine. Sphene’s been returned to Alexandria. They’ll be okay.”
Only then, only at those words, did Raha release the breath since the moment they’d fallen into the abyss together.
Calyx was gone. The corrupted pseudo-primal dissolved. Alexandria saved. But even now, something about the whole encounter itched beneath his skin. The taste in his mouth felt wrong —a lingering stain on his tongue, like secrets unsaid. Who had taught Calyx of summoning? Were there more Ascians to be dealt with even after both Zodiac and Hydaelyn were gone? There were pieces missing—fragments buried under too much chaos.
This wasn’t the kind of adventure he had envisioned for Hypshay when he’d agreed, with a too-tight smile and a reluctant nod, to let her explore this new world without him at her side. Not so soon after Ultima Thule. Not when he still woke up sometimes with his hand reaching out for her, sure she had disappeared again.
He entered the inn room they’d reserved, breath catching when he saw her.
There she was. Curled into the bed, hair still damp from a bath, clean clothes draped over her slight frame. The tension she'd worn was finally gone, replaced by quiet exhaustion and the warm haze of safety, eyes closed in a moment of peace.
But she wasn’t asleep. Her gaze flicked toward him the second the door clicked shut.
“Hypshay,” he said, crossing the room in a single stride. “Are you hurt? Anywhere still aching? Do you need more care? Healing?”
Her sigh was long-suffering, but the fond roll of her eyes told him all he needed to know.
“Why do you always ask me that twice?” she muttered, leaning her head against the wooden headboard. “You already asked me. Right after the Vow of Resolve collapsed, remember? Everyone was panicking around her but you turned around, saw me standing there—completely fine—and still panicked over me .”
“Alphinaud’s already healing her,” he knelt by her side right at the bed, “Wuk Lamat was merely aether-starved, Alphinaud said she’d recover quickly… But you—” His voice hitched. “You pushed everything into that arrow. You burned more aether than even I can quantify, and no one even checked on you .”
She reached for his hand. “I still carry a sliver of Hydaelyn’s blessing,” she reminded gently. “It’ll take more than one overcharged shot to burn me out completely.”
“But I worry,” he said, knotting their fingers together tightly. “I always do. Especially when we were facing that illy-summoned Primal. And when it threw us into that abyss of fear, I—”
He saw her death. All over again. Playing so vividly in his head again and again and again until his vision blacked out, and his breath stopped.
Her hands shot up to his corner as she pulled him into a soft kiss, and he melted instantly against the warmth of her breath and the beating of her heart.
When they broke up, he exhaled slowly, eyes closing.
“More than the fall… I feared what you might’ve seen in there. What it might have shown you. Please do not leave me behind again, my star. I could not bear it. Wherever you go, take me with you.”
She didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she shifted up on her elbow and pulled him into an embrace, resting her chin against his shoulder.
“I will bring you,” she whispered. “Whatever comes next. I won’t leave you behind.”
He pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes. “Swear it.”
“I swear it.”
“Twice.”
She smiled at that. “I swear it, G’raha Tia. Twice over.”
Satisfied at last, he cradled her close again, pressing his nose into the crook of her neck. Her scent—soft autumn lilies and steel—grounded him. Calmed the storm that still raged behind his eyes.
But then she nudged him lightly with her elbow.
“All right. You’re warm and all, but you still smell like you were back from an Alpaca ride. Go. Bath. Now.”
And he obeyed gladly.