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Rosalina

Iblink my eyes, not sure if the swell in my chest is happiness or grief or gratitude.

So many gave their lives today. Those who survived will carry the horror of this battle for the rest of their lives.

Yet they’re bowing, believing in me. In what we can do together.

And when I look behind me, I believe it too. We did this.

Castletree stands before us, as strong and beautiful as ever. I’m reminded of the wonder of when I first saw it, all those years ago, like something out of a fantasy. Stone turrets rise, winding with shiny brown bark. Stained-glass windows gleam out from the trunk of the tree, while great branches shadow parapets of dove-gray bricks. And twisting over everything are briars, blooming with red roses.

It is more beautiful than I’ve ever seen before.

My heart swells as I turn to look at my mates, their arms around one another, embracing. I’m not the same as I was when I first saw this castle, and neither are they. This Castletree is a monument to everything we’ve fought for.

And everything my mother dreamt of when she saved the magic from disappearing, when she saved her people.

Airaleth will need to be rebuilt, and so will the realms. But Castletree is the reminder that it was all worth fighting for.

I take a deep breath and search for my mother. She’s staring at the double doors that lead into the castle. As I walk toward her, she looks over her shoulder at me and smiles. It’s a sad and lovely thing, and I can only imagine I offer the same expression back.

“George would be very proud,” she says.

A presence hovers behind me, and I look to see Wrenley shifting from side to side.

“Of both of you,” my mother adds.

“And you too, Mom,” I tell her. “Aurelia saved the Vale once again.”

Mom touches the wall beside the double doors. “Oh, I don’t think Aurelia joined this fight. It was all Anya today.”

“We know how much George loved his Annie.” I touch Mom’s shoulder, then begin to walk toward my mates.

A wind picks up again, that one that smells of roses and fresh earth. It wisps around me, playing with my hair and tickling the back of my neck.

“Hey!” I laugh and turn back to Castletree.

The earth groans, and roots crack through the stone right before the doors. I raise a brow. What’s this? They’re not briars like Caspian, Wrenley, or I can summon.

This is all Castletree.

My feet are light as I drift toward the doors. Mom stares at the roots as if she’s forgotten how to blink. Wrenley has a similar expression, her body frozen still.

The roots are curled tight over one another, forming a protective cocoon.

“Show me,” I say.

The roots unfurl. And there, nestled within them, is a man.

Tall. Human by the shape of his ears. Broad of chest, with brown hair speckled gray. He appears to just be waking from a long sleep, rubbing his eyes and peering around. A man with my sister’s gaze and my smile and my mother’s heart.

“Papa?” I whisper, then: “Papa!”

My father blinks up into the sunshine, then stands, climbing out of the roots, stronger and healthier than I have ever seen.

My heart quickens, eyes filling with tears, which I wipe in case I’m deceiving myself. How is it possible? I watched him die…