Lorthrendel bent over Aerysdren, his hands on the boy's shoulders. Aerysdren's eyes were shut; all color was drained from his face, and his breathing was ragged and laboured. But he was breathing. And was all that mattered.

Lorthrendel's own robes had formed a crude bandage around his wound, the blood causing it to stick to his skin. It took everything in the mage to stay conscious, and blood dripped from his mouth. Every move sent a bolt of pain through his entire body. He did not even hear Isendir calling his name.

"Lorthrendel!" Isendir was suddenly kneeling on the grass beside Aerysdren. Blood seeped into the Highlander's eyes. He gently shook the boy before turning to Lorthrendel, his eyes glinting in fury. "What happened to him? Where are we? You said you would-"

"Give him a break, for pity's sake!" Ragnus vehemently snarled from where he stood. "He's dying! Can't you see that? They both are, Isendir."

"Help-help me get him inside," Lorthrendel struggled out. He took a shaky hand and wiped the blood from his chin. "Up the stairs is a bedroom that we can treat him in. I-I have a spell-"

"Save your breath. I will help both of you. Just shut up and try not to bleed out everywhere before I can get to you." Varenyl, without another word, gently bent down and picked Aerysdren up as if he weighed nothing more than a small child. He walked swiftly over to the house, not waiting for the others. The calm, spring-like breeze that blew gently tousled his messy and caked hair as he went.

Isendir watched him go with worried eyes. He helped Lorthrendel to his feet and allowed the mage to lean on him. "Come on," he muttered, grunting under the taller man's weight. "I am...sorry. I guess I have you to thank for me being alive at the moment." He hastily followed Varenyl, half dragging, half carrying Lorthrendel. "But Leravacha and the others-"

"I made a promise, I-Isendir," the mage wheezed. He bit his lip to keep from crying out as they entered the small house, his hand tightly gripping Isendir's shoulder. "I will not let Aerysdren die."

The house was empty. A table sat in the middle of the room, with pots and pans hanging from the wall above a cold fireplace. The kitchen. A century or so ago a family sat at this table for supper and breakfast, but now it was only covered in old, dusty spell books and crumpled up pieces of paper.

Isendir hastily followed Varenyl up the stairs, helping Lorthrendel as he went. The wooden staircase creaked under their weight and Lorthrendel nearly fell more than once. When they finally made it to the top, Varenyl gingerly laid Aerysdren down on the bed.

"It's on his back," Lorthrendel whispered as he collapsed into a chair by the bed. He coughed, wincing in pain as it racked his body.

Varenyl only nodded in response. He began to gently pull the boy's shirt up so he could see the wound and slowly turned him over on his stomach.

The wound was ghastly; it looked like it had either fractured or severed his spine. There was no way the blood could be stopped, and it was a wonder that Aerysdren was even alive. The dim, ghostly white of bone could be seen.

The Sylvari grimly reached into his robes and pulled out some salve and bandages. "I can only ease his pain," he said with a grunt. "I cannot stop the bleeding and neither can I save him."

"Oh gods." Ragnus's green eyes turned sad and filled with anguish. He took his helmet off and held it between his hands, his head held low.

Isendir's eyes widened. He took a step closer to the bed, glancing at Ragnus. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Isendir...." Varenyl shook his head and looked at the Highlander as he did his best to bandage Aerysdren's wound. "You heard me. Only a cleric can heal him; it is a wonder he is still alive." He finished and gingerly turned the boy back over.

Isendir turned Varenyl around, tightly gripping the elf's wrist. "What? No, he can't die! You-"

"Let go of me, Shatterstorm," Varenyl whispered lethealy. His blue eyes glinted as he yanked his hand free of the Highlander's grasp. He roughly shoved past him. "I have done the best I could. Lorthrendel, I need to see yours now-"

Aerysdren's glazed and glassy eyes slowly opened. He looked up at all of them and smiled smally. "Hi guys. What's wrong? Did we do it? Are we safe? You all look terrible."

"Aerysdren." Isendir crouched down beside the bed, his eyes dark. He gently took the boy's hand in his own. "Save your breath. You're going to be fine, just fine."

Aerysdren's smile faded. His gaze went from Varenyl, to Ragnus, to Lorthrendel, and then back to Isendir. "You're a terrible liar, Isendir. Lying is bad, you know."

"Aerysdren, listen to me." Lorthrendel tried to lean forward in his chair. The red, natural tattoos that lined his face and body were abnormally dull; the sign of a dying fae. "Do not do this to yourself," he struggled out. "I can save you. I was lying to Leravacha when I told her I could not save Rilvuldra! I have enough in me to cast one more spell-"

"But you'll die if you do," the Sylvanaar interrupted.

Lorthrendel smiled grimly. "I am going to die either way, Aerys," he returned, clutching his chest. "I can feel my life slipping through my fingers like grains of sand. I have committed many, many sins in the three hundred years I have walked this planet. I've murdered children in front of their mother's, for gods' sake. Please...let me die doing something good for once. I need this, Aerys. You-you do not deserve to die." His scarlett eyes glistened. "It is not yet your time...."

Aerysdren swallowed, wincing in pain. "No, it is my time, Lorthrendel. But that's okay." He nodded his head. "This was meant to happen. I understand the gods' plan now...it's all coming to me. This was the only way it would work." he said. "You're the only one who can cast spells, Lorthrendel. A spell caster is needed to stop the Dragon King. You have to stay alive. I don't. I have done my part." He weakly nodded his head. "The gods meant for this the whole time."

"So they used you?" Isendir rapidly shook his head. "Aerysdren, you do not know what you are talking about. Nobody is dying," he assured the boy. "Everything is going to be fine." He kept nodding. "I-"

Aerysdren slowly reached up and pulled a chain up from his shirt. When he tried to take it off, it instantly unclasped. He held it up for all to see.

It was a glittering black diamond that swirled and pulsed with energy, wrapped in silver and gold.

"This is what...they gave me," he struggled out. "I understand everything now...." It fell from his hand and hit the floor with a thud.

"Aerysdren, please," Lorthrendel begged, "let me heal you. Gods be damned! I can-"

"Shut up and listen to him," Varenyl quietly snapped. He gently walked over and picked up the amulet. "What is this?" he asked, turning it around and around in his hand.

"The Black Amulet," answered Aerysdren. "Thats...that's what I've been holding. They told me that I would not know what to do until the time was right. That time...is now. It is your guys' turn now. I...was just the messenger."

Isendir's hand clenched into a fist. "So they knew you would die the whole time? They sent you to your death?"

Aerysdren ever so slightly nodded. He gripped Isendir's hand as hard as he could. "Do not be upset, Isendir, please. It was the only way. You have to understand that."

Ragnus came up and gently put a hand on the Highlander's shoulder. "Lad...."

"Lorthrendel, where are we?" Aerysdren abruptly asked, his gaze shifting to the window. "It's so pretty here."

"Evaligai," he returned. "This is the part of Yoshinda that is home to the Khaishriks. I was raised in this home." He stared blankly at the boy, his eyes glassy. His fingers twitched. "The trees that grow here are the same ones that grow in Sheeth Alinar."

"Evaligai...." Aerysdren smiled. "I am honestly so satisfied by all this," he began. "Everything I wanted to happen when I left Sheeth Alinar happened. You four were the family I never had." His eyes swam with tears, but they were not born of grief or sadness. "I got to travel the road and see amazing places...it's like a dream come true. So thank you...thank you so much, Isendir, Ragnus, Lorthrendel, and...even you, Varenyl." He chuckled. "Even though you're really scary at times."

A rare smile touched Varenyl's lips. "You are very welcome, Aerys. I am happy to have known you. May the gods, wherever they are, guide you back home."

"You know...does all this make me a hero?"Aerysdren looked up Isendir, his brows furrowed. "Like you? Like-like Falkscis the Great, and Yevaila the Lioness? Am I like them now?"

"Yes." A single tear escaped from Isendir's eye. "You are a hero, Aerysdren. People will tell stories about you, when all this is said and done." He gripped the boy's hand tighter. "Because of you...others will live. You are everybody's hero, Aerys."

"Mishka will be so proud of me...." Aerysdren's gaze slowly shifted back to the window. He sighed. It suddenly became very hard for him to hold his eyes open. "Can you bury me out there, please? With the trees? There's an old legend back home that says that the souls of the Sylvanaar elves dwell within the trees while they wait for the Spring Mother to bring them back home."

"Of course, lad," Ragnus grumbled, his gnarled hand wiping away a traitorous tear. "Of course."

Aerysdren smiled for the last time, his gaze fixed on the green trees outside that swayed in the gentle breeze. "Thank you...for everything. It's been...fun." He took in one last, deep breath...

...and let it out in a soft sigh.

His grip on Isendir's hand went limp, and his chest fell still.

Aerysdren Ravenshard was dead.

But his lips remained frozen in a small, peaceful smile.

Varenyl slowly shut the Sylvanaar's fixed, staring eyes. "There," he said. "Now he is only sleeping."

***🐉***

hi y'all ♡ i feel this could have gone a hell of a lot better, so please give me your honest opinion and how you think I can make this better. because I really ain't feeling it with this chapter

thank you so much for reading as always❣ this book is nearing it's end, and should have maybe 5-10 chapters left🙏

until next time~