The Road from the Canyon. Dawn.
They rode in silence.
The sun rose over the mountains, painting the peaks pink and gold, beautiful and indifferent. The birds sang. The wind moved through the trees. The world continued, unaware that something had ended.
Grog rode at the front, his eyes on the road, his hand on his sword. He hadn't spoken since they left the canyon. His face was stone. His jaw was tight. His knuckles were white on the reins.
Lira rode beside him, her wounded arm pressed against her side, her face pale. She had tried to talk to him. He hadn't answered. She had stopped trying.
Mirena rode behind them, the broken pieces of her staff in her lap. She had been silent since the canyon, her mind on the portal, on Aldric, on what he had done. She had been studying the connection for weeks. She understood it now—too late.
William rode beside her, his head bowed, his hands steady on the reins. His armor was cracked, his shield splintered, his body aching. He was thinking about his brother. About Edward. About what he would say. About what he wouldn't say.
Ken brought up the rear, his shattered bow tied to his saddle, his eyes on the trees. He had been watching the shadows since they left the canyon, looking for threats that no longer existed. Old habits. He didn't know what else to do.
The road stretched ahead, empty and long.
---
William broke the silence first.
"He shouldn't have been there."
Lira looked at him. "Who?"
"Aldric." William's voice was tight. "He wasn't supposed to come. His leg wasn't healed. He was supposed to stay at the palace."
Mirena shook her head. "He would have followed anyway. You know that."
"I know." William's jaw tightened. "But someone should have stopped him."
Lira's voice was sharp. "Who? You? Me? He made his own choices."
"He made a choice to save us." Ken spoke from the rear. His voice was quiet, flat. "He made the only choice he could."
William turned in his saddle. "You don't know that."
Ken met his eyes. "I know what he was facing. I know what Vorlag wanted. I know there was no other way."
William stared at him. "You weren't there."
"I was there." Ken's voice didn't change. "I saw the portal. I saw the hunters. I saw the look on his face when he stepped through." He paused. "He knew what he was doing."
---
Mirena spoke. Her voice was quiet, distant, as if she was working through something in her own mind.
"The connection between Aldric and Vorlag—it was the only thing keeping the door open. Before Aldric, the cult used weak vessels to maintain the connection. They opened the portal here and there, small cracks, sending a few creatures through. But the connection was unstable. The portal opened and closed at random spots across this world."
William frowned. "That's why we couldn't track it."
Mirena nodded. "The cult didn't control where the portal opened. They just... opened it. The portal went where it wanted. To thin places. To places where the veil was weak."
Lira looked at her. "And Aldric?"
Mirena was quiet for a moment. "Aldric was different. He was a true vessel. When he cut his connection to Vorlag—during the battle with the Vargr, when the hunters first appeared—the portal became even more unstable. It opened and closed randomly because Aldric was still here. Still connected. Still fighting."
She looked at the road ahead.
"When he stepped through the portal, he severed the connection completely. He broke the link between Vorlag and this world. That's why the portal exploded. That's why it closed."
William's face was pale. "He knew."
Mirena nodded. "He knew."
---
Lira's voice was sharp again. "He could have told us."
Ken looked at her. "If he had told you, would you have let him go?"
Lira opened her mouth. Closed it.
"Would you?" Ken asked again.
"No," she said finally. "I wouldn't have."
Ken nodded. "That's why he didn't tell you."
William's hands tightened on the reins. "He made a choice for all of us."
Ken met his eyes. "He made the only choice he could."
William shook his head. "That doesn't make it better."
"No," Ken said. "It doesn't."
---
Grog hadn't spoken.
He rode at the front, his back straight, his eyes on the road. His face was stone. His jaw was tight. His knuckles were white on the reins.
Lira rode up beside him. "Grog."
He didn't answer.
"Grog."
He looked at her. His eyes were red—not from tears, from exhaustion. He hadn't slept. He hadn't eaten. He hadn't spoken.
"Say something," she said.
He was quiet for a moment. "He was supposed to stay."
Lira nodded. "He was."
"He followed anyway."
"He always did."
Grog looked at the road ahead. "I should have stopped him."
Lira shook her head. "You couldn't have."
"I should have tried."
"You did." She paused. "We all did."
---
The palace appeared in the distance.
The walls were gray, the towers tall, the gates open. The Duke was waiting on the steps, his hands clasped behind his back, his face unreadable. Edward stood beside him, his arms crossed, his jaw tight. Gwen stood behind them, her hand on her sword, her eyes on the riders.
The company rode through the gates.
The Duke stepped forward. His eyes moved from face to face—Grog, Lira, Mirena, William, Ken. He counted. He saw.
"Where is Aldric?"
No one answered.
The Duke looked at Grog. "Where is he?"
Grog met his eyes. His voice was hoarse, barely a whisper. "He's gone."
Edward stepped forward. "Gone where?"
Grog didn't answer.
Edward looked at William. "What happened?"
William's voice was quiet. "He closed the portal. He severed the connection between Vorlag and this world. He saved us." He paused. "He didn't come back."
Edward stared at him. "He's dead?"
William shook his head. "I don't know."
The Duke was silent for a long moment. Then he turned and walked into the palace.
Edward followed.
Grog sat on his horse, staring at the gates.
Lira touched his arm. "Grog."
He didn't move.
"Grog, we need to go inside."
He nodded. Dismounted. Walked.