A Destiny of Dragons (Tales From Verania #2)(62)

“It will be,” Vadoma said, and for the first time, she sounded regretful. “The paths I have seen. They lead to this, Sam. You think him your cornerstone, and he will die.”

“I won’t allow it,” I said, running a finger over his eyebrows. He was cool to the touch. “I won’t let it happen.”

“Death awaits us all,” she said, not unkindly. “For some, sooner. How did you think this would end? You heard the dark man. He has promised to take from you. And he will. Some paths more than others. Yet in every single one I have followed, every single thread I have plucked, this is the one thing that cannot be avoided. Even if you defeat the dark.”

My eyes burned. “I don’t understand. How can Ryan still be taken from me if I destroy this darkness?”

“Randall,” she said. “Morgan.”

I looked up at them. They were already watching me passively, but they didn’t speak.

“They outlived their cornerstones,” she said. “As all wizards do.”

“What?” I whispered.

The scene changed. The King was gone. My parents were gone. Randall was gone. Gary, Kevin, and Tiggy were there, looking almost as they did now, though they were a little thicker. Justin was there, and even though he’d aged into an old man, I still knew him. He was slim and still had his strength, but the lines around his eyes and mouth were pronounced. There were dark spots on the back of his hands. His hair was mostly white, thinning and held in place by the crown atop his head.

Morgan was there too but looked as if only twenty years had passed, not a lifetime.

Ryan, though.

Ryan had fallen to the ravages of time as Justin had. He was bone-thin, and his beautiful hair was gone. His skin was wrinkled and his hands gnarled as they held the sword to his chest. His armor didn’t fit like it had when he was young, much larger than he was now. He looked almost like a child playing dress-up, skin pale in death.

And I caught my reflection in the shine of the armor.

I looked almost the same.

“No,” I said. “No. No.”

“It’s inevitable,” Vadoma said. “The passing. You are a wizard, Sam. Your life… is not your own. The magic in you. It will prolong your years until most everyone you love has passed through the veil and ascended to the beyond. Randall is almost seven centuries old. Morgan almost three. Their cornerstones. They… learned from them what they could. They loved them deep in their hearts. And then the time came in which they had to say goodbye. Because cornerstones are just a beginning, Sam. They build you toward becoming what you’re supposed to be. And then you have to let them go. And when they don’t have magic in their veins, when they’re ordinary, you will lose them sooner.”

I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t speak because I couldn’t think of a single word to say. How this had never crossed my mind, I didn’t know. It should have. The moment my magic said finally when Ryan stood at my side, I should have known. The moment Morgan even told me about cornerstones for the first time, I should have asked. How Randall had been able to say goodbye to Myrin. How Morgan had been able to say goodbye to Anya. I never knew the extent of their relationship with each other, but someone who meant that much to you, someone your magic recognized as a means of completion, their passing could not have been anything but devastating. But I’d never even thought of it, so wrapped up in having Ryan at my side, that I didn’t think of the repercussions. Gary and Tiggy and Kevin were magic. They still lived and would most likely live beyond even the oldest of wizards. My parents weren’t there because they were dead. The King was dead. Randall was most likely dead.

And Ryan? Ryan had died of old age. After a life lived.

“But…,” Vadoma said, sounding regretful.

“But what?” I asked roughly, wiping my eyes. “You tell me a man is coming. That a star dragon predicted my birth and told you that I would face a rising darkness. That even if I defeat the dark man, even if I gather the dragons and somehow am able to stop the darkness, that in all possible endings, Ryan dies? But. What.”

“It is the price of the power you wield.”

“Then maybe I don’t want this godsdamned power!” I shouted at her. “Maybe I don’t want any of this!” My voice echoed around the silent throne room.

“It’s not about you, chava,” she said. “It’s about the greater good. There are more forces at work here, forces that care not about the love you think you carry for the Knight Commander.”

“I don’t think. I know.”

“Do you?”

“You said but.”

“I did. But I don’t know if you’ll hear me.” She sounded regretful.

And I fell right into her hands. “I’m listening.”

“Because you’ll do anything for him.”

“Yes.”

“You care for him.”

“Yes.”

“Do you treasure him?”

“Yes.”

“You would lay down your life for him.”

“Yes.” And then I knew what was coming, because we’d done this dance before.

“Would you let him go if it was for the greater good? If it meant he could live a life free from the pain of an early death? Free from the trappings and attachment that come with those that aren’t purely mortal?”