Elecia pulled her hands away, and no one said anything for a small eternity. Vhalla cracked her eyes open, turning to the Western woman. She tried to smile. She tried to be strong. Nothing was about her anymore. It was about them, those who would inherit the world they’d fought so hard for.

 “I don’t know what to do,” the healer confessed.

 “I know,” Vhalla whispered.

 “You’re going to die.” Elecia fought for her clinical detachment, but a whimper of emotion betrayed the facade. “Aldrik, I’m sorry, I’m sorry I don’t know—”

 “Start with the wound, ‘Cia. Please, please try,” Aldrik spoke with utter desperation.

 Elecia obliged, and Vhalla felt the other woman’s magic pouring into her. She felt it seeking pathways that had been broken and strewn to the winds, unable to knit the broken flesh and muscle. Her magic had been too damaged by the crystals. It would have to be fixed before any other healing could be done.

 The woman must have realized it in the same moment as Vhalla, because she stood suddenly. “I’m going to try to find Sehra!”

 Elecia had bolted out the door before any of them could react. She left silence and death in her wake. Vhalla blinked intensely. She wouldn’t leave now without saying goodbye.

 “Aldrik.” He was at her side in an instant. His long fingers scooped up hers, blood smearing across his gauntlets. “I’m so glad I saved you, back then.”

 “Don’t say goodbye, please.” He was close to breaking. He was fighting the obvious.

 “I don’t regret it. I don’t.” She could only hope he understood, that something she said would be enough for him to continue on without her.

 She was crying, Vhalla realized. The shining points of light of her memories illuminated the dark and tumultuous road that had taken her to this moment. She didn’t want to die. She didn’t want to give up everything she’d fought for.

 The door opened again, and both of their eyes looked at the lone figure. The princess floated over to the two Imperials, looking much more rested than the last time Vhalla had seen her. Two emerald eyes looked between Aldrik and Vhalla.

 “Sehra,” Aldrik pleaded. “Save her please, your magic, can it—”

 “I understand,” she whispered. The princess kneeled next to Vhalla. Her focus was only on the Empress. “You did well.”

 Vhalla was struggling to see. The princess faded, vacillating between her normal visage and something different. Hazy blurs and lines that didn’t quite connect. Long fingers, almost like Aldrik’s, cupped her cheek thoughtfully. The gesture was more forward than the princess had ever been.

 “The crystals’ magic is diminishing. They were never meant to be used as they were, manipulated for man’s greed. They weren’t left with that intent.”

 “What?” Aldrik asked Vhalla’s question.

 “You saw them.” Sehra spoke to both of them, to no one. “They turn brittle and shatter under their own weight. They will be gone by dawn.”

 “Princess, we need to act quickly,” Aldrik urged. “She’s dying.”

 “I know,” Sehra said without hesitation. “Vhalla Yarl, after all that you have been through, do you still want to be upon this earth?”

 “How can you ask that?” Vhalla opened her eyes. “Of course, I do.”

 “Of course,” Sehra repeated softly. “Very well. I will grant you the power of Yargen one more time. I will change this fate set before you.”

 The princess had a gently, almost motherly—familial—smile. She placed both hands on Vhalla’s face. Her whole palm tingled, and Vhalla felt the same light she’d experienced every time before.

 No, it wasn’t the same. Sehra’s power before had been like a battering ram, forcing its way into her. This was familiar, like it complemented her. It flowed through Vhalla’s veins with palpable force. Her heart beat in time to it. Her flesh mended with it. Vhalla blinked, the red dawn flashing a moment in the woman’s eyes.

 Whatever Sehra did, it worked. And when she pulled her hands away, Vhalla’s whole body felt warm, as though she’d been laying in the sun for hours. Her eyes fell back into focus, her breathing strengthened, her heartbeat regulated once more.

 The princess stood tiredly, swaying slightly.

 “Are you all right?” Aldrik took a step toward the young woman.

 “I am, but time is short,” she answered cryptically. “I’m no longer meant for this world.”

 Sehra started for the door. Aldrik looked between Vhalla and the Northern princess.

 “Sehra, we can seek out another cleric.”

 “No need.” Her hand paused on the door knob. Vhalla sat slowly, trying to make out the familiar glint in the woman’s eyes. “You did well, but things are only beginning now. The vortex still spins.”

 “Sehra!” Vhalla was on her feet, not realizing how quickly she could suddenly move, how strong she felt.

 “If that is the name you choose.” With those words, the woman vanished through the fogged glass of the door.

 Vhalla looked to Aldrik. He was confused. Which meant it hadn’t been a dream or hallucination. He’d heard those words. That had been real.

 “Sehra!” Vhalla cried. She threw open the door. “Sehra!”

 A cleric looked over from the gate leading into the Imperial hall, confused at the Empress’s cries.

 “Tell me,” Vhalla called. “Have you seen the Northern Princess Sehra?”

 “I haven’t seen the lady for hours,” he answered uncertainly.

 “Did you miss her?” Vhalla walked over quickly, Aldrik on her heels. “Could you not have seen her?”

 “I have been here since the Emperor took you-you . . . Shouldn’t you be resting?”

 “Just now, someone left.” Aldrik looked through the garden.

 “My lord, lady, I-I . . .” The man was clearly at a loss for words, incapable of giving them the answers they wanted. “I suppose, it’s possible, that I missed someone.”

 “Vhalla?” Elecia’s voice called. Sehra, Za, Jax, and Fritz were in tow. The group that was to be Vhalla’s mourning party. “You should lie down!”

 The Western noble crossed to her in a few hasty steps. Her hands were on Vhalla, but she barely felt them. Vhalla stared at Aldrik, and he met her eyes with equal confuson. There was no explanation that she could give him. Trying to explain the full details of her last, tragic encounter with Vi would be impossible now.

 Magic glowing around crystals that had looked like feathers.

 Fire that had saved her life by burning wheat.

 And a final encounter in a garden of roses.

 If that is the name you choose.

 It was a series of dreams connected by an impossibility. Something beyond her world. A force greater than everything Vhalla had ever known. Something that would fade with time into a vague dream-like memory.

 “Vhalla.” Elecia forcefully grabbed Vhalla’s face, pulling it back toward her. “What did you do? What did you take?”