Epilogue

Sebastean sits alone his room on the new ship, staring at the wall in total darkness, thinking about his mother. Elenor Seraph, her name had been, as close to a princess as Seraphs get. The daughter of a High Priest.

She'd been beautiful too. So young, for a mother, not even thirty when Sebastean was ten, when the soldiers had finally tracked them down in the High Woods and murdered her for loving the wrong man. Sent by Dackorec, her own father. And now Dackorec was trying to finish the job, eradicating every trace of her sin. Commanding the death of her child, and everyone who loves him.

The knife handle feels cold, even in Sebastean's bone-crushing grip, but he holds it steady. How many nights he's longed to bring this knife down on Dackorec's empty chest, to destroy that loveless heart. And now he's thrown away the chance, for baseless sentimentality.

Why?

It doesn't matter. There are only two possible outcomes. Either Dackorec will listen to good advice, and never bother Sebastean or his friends again. That would be nice. Perhaps Sebastean would never get his vindication, never complete his revenge, but he could live with that.

Or... the fight goes on, to the brutal finish. More people die, enemy and friend. More battles, more destruction, more nightmares. More close calls. More failed attempts at peace and quiet.

Either way, he's ready.

When you are the terrible thing in the shadows, there's nothing to fear.

* * *

Evan wakes up feeling warm, a welcome change from the nightmares that have plagued him for what seems like weeks of exhausted sleep. Images of spears and swords, fire and blood, and screaming faces fade away to the calm darkness of a cozy, firelit room and Aelia's fever-hot but gentle arms wrapped around his soulders. Sound asleep, she snores lightly into his neck, looking worn out. Deep circles halo her twitching eyes.

“Aelia?” he whispers, as much to himself as to her. “Are you awake?” She stirs, then opens her eyes, looking beautiful as always, even as battered as she is.

“Oh... Evan, oh, sorry, I didn't mean to... I was trying to stay awake, I just wanted to stay and make sure you were okay when you woke up.” She immediately untangles herself from him and sits up, blushing furiously. “So... how are you feeling?”

“All right. How long was I out?”

“Four days. You need to learn to pace yourself, when it comes to Channeling. We were worried about you.”

Evan sits up, enjoying the feeling of refreshed and healed muscles. The firelight is nicely subdued, but he can still see around the small room. A bed, a couple of chairs, and the comfortable cot where he's apparently spent the last few days. “Where are we?”

“Maphore island. We decided Nostlack wasn't safe anymore, we've been in the air until yesterday. This is a mostly Human place, we might blend in a little better.” She rises, going to a window and opening the curtains to reveal a late-afternoon rainbow sunset. “We still don't know how they found us on Nostlack in the first place.”

Evan rubs his eyes and looks around for a shirt, having been dressed in his silk pants for the duration of his coma. “Actually I've been thinking about that. A day or two before we landed, Kari gave our comm code to a Pteros guy on that trader ship. The Seraphs must have gotten ahold of it somehow, and tracked us. Is that possible?”

She sits on the edge of the bed, shaking her head in frustration. “It's certainly doable, if you're right. The Priesthood must have been waiting for them at Halfmoon. We've got to go back, our people are in danger, I think.”

“You're probably right.”

“At least they won't find us again. The Gantrillian is toast. We found a new ship, not quite as fast but a lot more comfortable. You'll like it. Nice raised deck for stargazing. I know you enjoy that.”

They sit in silence for a few minutes, lost in thought. After awhile, Aelia turns to face him. “I heard what happened, after I got knocked out. I heard you saved me. Kari said you did some pretty impressive Channeling.”

Evan sighs heavily. “I... well of course I'd do what I could to protect you, but I don't know what happened. I don't know how I did it.”

“Does it matter? I'm here. Sebastean and Kari and Oden are safe, and it's all because you came through when it came down to the wire. You were great, Evan. Don't get down on yourself just because you don't completely understand what you did.”

Evan looks at her for a long time before deciding to speak. “I have a theory about my Manifestation. It seems like when I Channel, I somehow become able to deal with a situation. Like I adapt to whatever needs to be done. When I needed to break Sebastean out, I was strong enough to break that cage. And when that guy tried to spear me, I was fast enough to stop him.”

Aelia's eyes widen. “That makes sense, although I've never heard of anything like that before. Remember when you were trying to read that box or whatever, you Channeled without realizing it. You must have been trying to see more clearly.”

“I forgot about that.”

“So how did you 'need to' blast Dackorec, then? He was nowhere near you. He couldn't have hurt you.”

Evan walks slowly to her and takes one of her hands, enjoying the way her skin seems to burn beneath his touch. She's always so warm. “I needed you to be safe.” He brushes his lips against the back of her hand, watches her storm-gray eyes lock on his, and smiles. “And I couldn't let anything happen to you. He pulled a knife and I just felt so helpless, like I was just standing there watching you die.

“Then I felt this surge, like being electrocuted, if you know what I mean. And I knew the only way I could ever go on living was if I protected you somehow, if I did something to save you. The only way I could smile again. The only way I could tell you how much I care about you.”

He kisses her forehead and helps her stand, still smiling at her, loving the way she smiles back, and prepares to go out the door and face the rest of the Universe. “I don't understand it. But it happened anyway. And I'm glad it did. Now let's get out of here.

“We've got a long way to go.”

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTE

This is the conclusion of my second Fallen story, and I feel even better about it than the first. Every day the story of Evan North and the world of Fallen grows in my head, and I'm struggling to write it all down before I forget something.

I've reached a point, however, where the future is becoming more fluid. I know generally where the story goes from here on out, and while it may seem like a wild departure I promise it's all towards a certain end. I'd appreciate any and all input, in the quest to become a real storyteller, so feel free to email me and let me know what you think.

As always, thanks for reading. The story needs to be told.

-Greg