42. Owen

Owen

The day was warm and sunny, and Owen was grateful, for the journey to the graveyard had taken longer than he had wanted, and the nights were still cold. A week into spring had allowed them suitable weather to travel back to the Gate, where Owen would be able to finally lock the doors forever using Mordren's dagger.

As Owen rode along the path of the graveyard, he glanced around at the new growth springing up around the tombstones and mausoleums. Fresh green leaves sprang from the branches of trees, and white wildflowers grew in between the spaces of debris and rock.

There were several spirits lingering nearby, some of them watching quietly as their party traveled through. Thankfully, there had been no monsters. When Mordren had been destroyed, it was observed that beasts such as the shadow graugs, and even the cryn, had withered away like dust. All that remained now of Mordren's wrath were the lingering spirits and land ravaged from his army.

That, and the scar upon Owen's mind.

He glanced up at the blue sky and lowered his hood, as he was beginning to sweat from beneath his red robe. Owen wasn't used to wearing such fine clothes, and the robe was thicker than he liked .

"Whoa, boy."

Owen looked over at Colt, who patted his brown horse as he rode beside him. Behind them were several guards, who no longer bore the symbol of the Core but the symbol of Acren—a white lily.

Elian led them alongside his brother, Harlan. They looked as different as ever, Elian with his dark hair trimmed short and his face clean-shaven, while Harlan's blond tresses had grown out more. The ex-Wielder had come a long way in the past few months. After the trial of the council, he helped do away with the Legion and was working on establishing a new order that allowed the people of Avathon to choose a leader. Astrans were no longer branded, but they were still watched closely. Owen hoped that, with time, the people and those in leadership positions would abolish the hatred toward them and unify Astrans with those who held no power. Elian's goal overall was to help Astrans into high roles of leadership, such as in the military, where their skills could prove most useful.

It had been two months since Mordren had been destroyed, but they still had a long road ahead of them in terms of recovery. Owen felt they would eventually accomplish what he and Elian set out to do. And once they fulfilled their goals, they would reach out to Milarc and do the same there. Their neighboring country still had yet to completely abolish the Legion. As for Arcmere and Yvora, the two countries across the sea, only time would tell if they did away with the Legion. But Owen had no plans of going there. He would stay in Avathon until he knew it was safe to venture further in the world.

Not long after Mordren's demise, the quakes had stopped in Avathon and Milarc. After hearing stories recounted by Owen and his companions, the council had determined such disasters were a result of the Unseen Vale being neglected and full of spirits trying to break out. But also from Mordren's wrath from within the realm.

Behind him, Brom trailed along, fidgeting with something in one of the saddlebags. He turned back to look at Owen and smiled.

"Did you see those strawberry bushes a while back?" he asked. When Owen nodded, Brom went on, "I'll have to gather some on the way back. Helena likes strawberry preserves."

Owen couldn't help but smile. Brom and Helena had become good friends. She'd mentioned them both opening a bakery together and splitting the profits a few times, but Brom seemed nervous about it. Colt had told him Helena was sweet on him, but Brom refused to pursue her… for now. In time, Owen knew—and hoped—that something would come of their friendship.

He shifted his thoughts to Amias. His uncle had been pardoned of his crime in Alacor, but had also been prohibited from ever setting foot in Milarc. He had wanted to come with them to the graveyard, but he had become a healer's apprentice in the Bronze District, and there was much he had to learn and study for an upcoming exam. Amias had taken to aiding those who had been injured after Mordren was destroyed, and he continued to help those in need. But his line of work was a bit different from helping heal those with physical injuries. Instead, he focused on helping those who were ill in the mind.

He'd helped Owen tremendously in the past two months.

When Owen caught Colt smiling at him, Owen beamed back as the breeze blew across his face. They had both been living in the Azure District, which was between Bronze and Gold. Living in the city was much different from living in the countryside, as he was used to, and at times Owen grew homesick for green hills and rocky shorelines. But he and Colt often took walks in the district's gardens, and it was enough. He thought of his old house in Emberton and wondered who occupied it now. He hoped whoever it was took good care of it.

Before long, the Gate came into view. The doors were closed, and there was no sign of any creatures such as the Horgg, and Owen wondered if they had also died after Mordren had perished.

They dismounted, but before Owen made his way up the few steps to the Gate, he waited while the soldiers repaired Gilda's grave.

As they stood to the side, Elian came up beside Owen and said, "An easy journey. Much easier than the last time." He smiled, and Owen gave a soft laugh.

"As long as we don't run into Hunters."

"I haven't heard any news of them since being in Luthien." Elian stood poised beside him. "That doesn't mean they're not still out there, operating under our noses. But they're at the top of my list to eradicate. Should you face them again, you should have no problem dealing with them."

Owen thought of Quinnby Kingsland, how Rem had set them up to attend his lavish party, only to lure them in to Cleanse him and Gilda. He winced. Rem seemed to invade his mind every day, and Owen couldn't shake the sick feeling that came over him each time.

"Ready?" Colt asked, coming up to him.

"Yes." Owen glanced over to find Brom handing him a garland of flowers and gave him a quizzical look. "What's this? "

"I made one for all three of us." Brom shrugged and put a ring of yellow and white flowers on his head. "I don't know, I just thought it was fitting."

"You want us to wear flowers?" Colt furrowed his brow.

"For Gilda," Brom said.

"She would love that." Owen took a garland and placed it on Colt's head. As he saw the purple and white flowers blooming around his hair, he smiled. Then he took the last garland from Brom and put it on his own head.

The grave had been polished up nicely. The weeds had been removed, and the rock serving as a headstone had been replaced with a proper stone marker. Gilda Woode was engraved in the stone, and her moon charm hung in a small alcove that had been carved into the rock.

Owen drew out the flowers from his horse's pouch that he'd picked earlier that day, then the three of them stood around her grave and looked down solemnly.

A silent breeze swept past them, and as Owen stared at the mound of dirt that had already sprouted fresh grass, tears collected in his eyes. He didn't know what to say. It seemed none of them did. Tears blurred Owen's vision until he couldn't hold them in anymore, and finally, they ran down his cheeks.

Brom placed a gentle hand on Owen's shoulder. Then he and Colt stepped away to give Owen a moment alone with Gilda. When they had gone, Owen sat on the ground next to her gravestone and sobbed. The loss hollowed out his heart as he hung his head. He wished desperately that he could bring her back, but not even the god of the Unseen Vale had been able to do such a thing. Out of all the things Owen was capable of doing in this world—loving others, using his god-granted abilities to produce fire, move things, and heal —still he could not bring her back.

Death was permanent.

There was no coming back.

Even the roaming spirits didn't know they were dead. Or perhaps they did know, and they searched for their final end. But with Mordren gone, the spirit channels would now be opened. At least, he hoped so. He thought of Meg and hoped that proper order had been restored in the Unseen Vale. There was no way he would ever go back there to find out. Such a place was never meant to be seen or breached by humans. And now, Owen had to make sure no one ever entered such a place again. He had to have faith that he had upheld his promise to Meg, to Grutwyr, to all the spirits who dwelled in the Vale after death.

"Thank you… for being the mother and sister and friend we all needed, Gilda. Go in peace."

As Owen got to his feet, he wiped his eyes quickly and made his way to Colt, Brom, and Elian, who had become his family.

"It's time," Elian told him.

They all glanced up at the Gate.

Taking a deep breath, Owen made his way up the steps. He curled his fingers around the hilt of the dagger and drew it out, then he approached the door. A gust of wind blew around him, making his robe flap around his ankles, and he looked up, baffled, his heart racing.

A whisper carried on the wind, one that sounded familiar, and with it came the faint smell of jasmine incense.

"All my love…"

Then the wind died down, and the whisper faded. Owen breathed in and out roughly, his eyes wide as he stared at the doors of the Gate. This time, tears of joy rose in his eyes. Gilda was no longer with them, he knew it now. She had passed into the Unseen Vale, and she would flow into the spirit channels to her final end.

Taking up the dagger, Owen slid the blade into the keyhole, and it glowed a bright yellow. He turned the dagger, and when he heard a heavy scraping thud, he knew the Gate had been locked. Now all that remained was the dagger. A simple blade that had been passed down by his father from Mordren's bloodline. But Owen knew it wasn't really his blade to possess, and keeping it would only remind him of everything that had transpired. Instead, he would give the blade to Elian, who would contain it in the citadel and out of reach from anyone else who could use it to open the Gate again.

He retrieved the dagger from the keyhole and looked down at it as the yellow light faded to a faint dim, like an ember. Fate had led him here all along. It could have happened to another Shadowborn, but Owen had been in the right places at the right time. And after such a harrowing journey, Owen was finally able to breathe.

He turned around and looked down to see the group of soldiers watching him in awe. To his utter surprise, they all bowed their heads to him. He looked at Elian and Harlan, who did the same. And finally… even Colt and Brom. Owen knew the solemn gesture was intended as respect for the journey they had all been through, for the loved ones they had lost, and for the future they would build together.

Raising his chin, Owen sheathed the dagger and said, "It is done."