IRIS
The first few days were the most difficult. We all had to get used to the new situation.
The king was dead⦠many were killed in the battle. But his plan worked out, and we all carried out the kingâs orders.
His last wish was to keep us safe. Save his people, save his children.
And protect Antaris.
Bael told Avery his fatherâs last words. But I couldnât sense his feelings.
Shortly after we returned, he sealed our mindlink. Ironclad.
Silent.
As though a door was locked behind his eyes. And I remained outside, without a key, without hope.
âIt is for your own good,â he said.
But his voice sounded hollow, as if from afar.
What use was this âbestâ if he left me out in the cold? If he left me starving for a spark of warmth, for a glance that still reached me?
He withdrew, deeper, ever deeper, sinking into himself like a dark swamp.
And I reached for him, but he wouldnât let me hold on.
His emotions? Frozen. His thoughts? Locked up.
I felt the walls of his defense, but they were smooth and cold, no crack, no entrance.
I didnât know how he felt, or what he was thinking.
Everything between us was the relentless echo of his distance.
Why didnât he let me in? Why did I have to wait outside the walls of his heart until I turned to stone too?
He had a lot of commitments now that demanded all of his time. But somehow I doubted that this was just an excuse to avoid me.
Maybe he blamed me now⦠maybe he didnât even want me as a mate anymore.
The only thing I could do now was take care of his sister. But this seemed even more difficult.
Ava was rescued. She survived, but the price was high.
After she found out her father had died, she spent a long time alone in her room.
Self-doubt and feelings of guilt tormented her so much that she didnât leave her room. At least, thatâs what we thought.
Whatever happened in Portus Mali, she never spoke of it again.
So many healers were needed to help her. Not just physically, but mentally too.
In the beginning, she wouldnât let anyone get close to her.
Every attempt to approach her ended in a strangled cry, a wild, fragile animal cornered.
The healer⦠Men who wanted to help her became a threat themselves.
Every movement, every shadow that fell over her frightened her again.
âLeave me alone! Just leave me!â she screamed in panic.
Her voice was overflowing with panic, a hysterical shriek that echoed through the room like the wailing of a wounded woman.
She crouched down, her arms wrapped around her own shoulders, as if she could keep the world away from her.
And yet, it wasnât just fear in her eyes.
There was something else, something destructive, a sheer, endless horror that went deeper than any pain.
As if she had been robbed not only of her safety, but of every memory of what it was like not to be afraid.
Every time the healers left her room, they were tired, as if a huge burden had been placed on them.
I suffered with her. Avaâs condition had to be terrible if the healers looked so horrible after every visit.
And yet she stayed in her room for a very long time, with the door locked and completely alone.
Bael initially thought she blamed him for her fatherâs death, but after days of talking to her through the soulmate bond, he was able to understand.
She needed time to heal, and he was willing to give it.
Ava allowed him to see her for the first time in a very long time, and the meeting seemed very emotional.
Whatever she said to him at that reunion changed Bael completely.
He repeated over and over again, âI didnât knowâ¦â
The tears on his face seemed to be never-ending.
Even Devas seemed worried when he saw him like this.
Ava wasnât ready to see Bael and allow him to help her heal, like real soulmates do. She just wanted to be alone, but he couldnât bear to see her like this.
We sat outside her door, to no avail. For almost a week.
I knew how much he reached out to her through the soul bond. Every⦠single⦠day.
And after many, many failed attempts, he was about to give up.
She must have felt it, the pain he felt too, the grief inside him that his face couldnât hide.
And so one evening, to everyoneâs surprise, she turned up at the door to see him.
He didnât say a word, just got up and pulled her into his arms.
After everything the two of them had to go through to finally find each other, we were more than relieved when this finally happened.
Finally, after some time, Bael managed to comfort her, and she began coming out of her room regularly.
The two had sorted out everything that stood between them, and now they couldnâtâand didnât want toâstay away from each other anymore.
She missed a lot while she was grieving.
And she grieved... not only for her father, who died in battle... but obviously for much more.
Ten days after the terrible event, Avery was to officially replace his father.
The entire town held its breath.
Antaris was gatheredâthousands of eyes turned to him, who was now to become their king.
The air was heavy with unspoken questions, sorrow, and hope.
On his shoulders was not only the weight of the crown, but the fate of an entire nation.
Yet as he walked up the steps to the throne, there was no joy in his steps, only duty.
No pride in his gaze, only determination.
Avery didnât want a ceremony when he was crowned king.
Instead of the ceremony, he designated this day as a day of mourning in Antaris, for all those who fell.
The elves began to singâa melody that settled over those gathered like a gentle wind, full of melancholy and infinite tenderness.
Their voices merged into a single sound, clear as running water and yet as fragile as the last leaves in autumn.
It was a song that spoke of farewells and memories, of times gone by and the pain that now burned in every heart.
All around stood the inhabitants of Antaris, their faces marked by tears, their gazes lost in the distance, as if they were searching for solace.
Some held hands. Others pressed their fists against their chests as if they could prevent their souls from tearing apart.
The air was heavy with shared grief, a pain that was reflected in every breath.
But in the midst of this sea of emotions, Avery stood out like a rock in the surf... unmoved, unaffected.
His gaze slid coldly over the crowd, as if he was watching a scene that was none of his business.
While the elves sang and the people wept, he remained standing there as if he were carved from stone, his face a mask of stillness.
Not a tear, not a wince, not a hint of compassion.
Not even when his fallen friends were mentioned, Elian and Alvar. And especially not when the death of King Elior was sung over.
The crowd fell silent. Only a few sobs could be heard as Avery stood up from the throne.
His eyes glanced over the crowd again; he raised his chin proudly.
âI will be the king my father wasâ¦â he began his speech.
His gaze lingered on me for a moment before sliding to Devas and then Bael.
âI will honor and love Antaris and all its residents⦠and protect them from all dangers. Even if I have to sacrifice my life,â he continued.
Our eyes met, just for a fleeting moment. But in that tiny fraction of a second, the coldness in his eyes faded and something familiar, almost gentle, flashed.
A hint of the Avery I recognized⦠the one I loved.
But then it was over; the mask fell again and he turned away as if it had never happened.
And I? I was left with that one, precious moment, a spark in the darkness.
But what good was a spark if the night was so endless? I missed him.
Not just his words, not just the hours we spent telling each other everything that moved us.
I missed the invisible thing between us⦠the warmth that didnât come from touch, but from knowing that here, with you, I was at home.
Now he was foreign to me. A king, a ruler, a man made of ice and duty.
And what about me? I lay awake night after night and felt this emptiness that he left behind.
The hours stretched out like years, and I wondered⦠Would he ever come back to me?
Avery raised his hand and the crowd fell silent.
His voice cut through the silence like a sword, cold and relentless.
âAll demons⦠are henceforth banned from Antaris!â he announced.
Shock ran through those gathered. Whispers spread, at first softly, then swelling like the buzzing of thousands of insects⦠disbelieving, agitated.
âBanished?â they murmured. âDid he really say⦠banished?â
Avery ignored the murmur.
His gaze was steely as he turned to face the witches.
âOpen the portal. Guards⦠remove the demons,â he ordered.
My heart skipped a beat. Instinctively, I searched Jadeâs gaze, and found only hopelessness in her eyes.
Yet she obeyed. Like everyone did. Next to me, Avaâs body tensed, her fingers clutching my sleeve.
I felt the same impulse inside me: Jump up. Scream. Challenge this madness!
But before we could move, Devas placed a warning hand on our shoulders.
His eyes met mine, and what I saw in them froze me. Not only obedience. Not just duty, but infinite grief.
âHeâs your king,â he whispered, so quietly that only we could hear, the words seeming to tear him apart.
âIf you question him now⦠you will bring the crowd against him,â he added.
His fingers tightened, as if he wanted to hold us backâfrom ourselves. From the rebellion burning in our hearts.
One after the other, they were led to the portal.
Devas with his head bowed, Bael, whose otherwise proud shoulders now appeared broken, and all the others who once walked in the shadows but had long since chosen the light.
The crowd stood still as if seeing ghosts. There was no cheering, no applauseâjust a dull, anxious silence.
But then the unbearable happened: Families were ripped apart.
Children clinging to their parentsâ legs were torn away. Spouses whose hands were desperately clasping at the last moment were separated with brutal determination.
I saw Devasâ face as he crossed the threshold of the portal⦠not angry, not full of hate.
But with a look of infinite sorrow, as if he understood something that we all could not yet understand.
Behind him stumbled a young demoness, clutching her infant to her chest.
Tears streamed down her cheeks as she turned around once moreânot to Avery, not to the guards.
But to the people in the crowd with whom sheâd once shared bread. âWhy?â she whispered, her voice breaking as the portal swallowed them up.
And then they were gone. Only silence remained.