Page 162 of The Starlight Savior

It had truly worked.

Everything they had sacrificed, everything Saige had gone through, all of it for this moment. He hoped Saige believed it was worth it.

Chapter 62

Two Weeks Later

The first thing Saige noticed as she opened her eyes was numbness penetrating her limbs. She couldn’t speak or move. Her skull felt chained upon her pillow. A deep moan escaped her lips as her gaze drifted from side to side. It was a meager attempt to absorb her surroundings. A figure was slumped deeply in the chair beside her, sleeping, mouth slightly agape. Conor. Past him, she spotted the moon and sun carving on her quarter’s door. In Etrane.

How had she gotten back here?

The last thing Saige remembered was the sharp pain in her stomach and the bright searing light of the stars consuming her. From there, she had fallen deep into her consciousness, unaware of the aftermath of her magic. But something must’ve gone very right or very wrong for her to be back in the storm kingdom.

Opening her mouth, she tried to speak again. No words could be formed. Her tongue was so dry, and she longed for water to cool her throat.

Conor’s eyes opened quickly, hands reaching towards a dagger laying in his lap. His gaze roamed around the room until he landed on her. “You’re awake,” he breathed, hands reaching for her cheek.

Saige opened her mouth, but Conor shook his head.

“You’ve been asleep for a fortnight. The healers had to slow down your heartbeat so your body could live without much effort. It’ll take time to gain back all your strength. Eating, drinking, and talking will take a bit to acclimate to.” His hands shook as he drew them away from her. “I’m so happy you're awake.”

Saige bit down on her lip, ignoring the taste of blood. She wanted to ask what happened so badly, but her mind was moving quicker than her muscles. Widening her eyes, she hoped her facial expressions could convey what she so badly wished to speak.

Conor smiled. “You haven’t missed much. I suppose you’re lucky you’ve been asleep for so long.” He reached for her hand, sucking in a breath of air. “This is the first time I’ve been able to…feel you.”

His thumb rubbed against the sensitive spot over her skin. Tears swelled to the surface, but it was difficult to let them fall with pressure pressing upon her body. If Conor hadn’t been there to explain the lack of movement, Saige would’ve woken in a panic.

She squeezed his hand as hard as she could, eyes bulging.

The furrow in his brow deepened. “I-I don’t know if this is the right time. It’s a lot to take in.”

“Uurhghh—”

His hands flew to her face once again. “Shhh…it’s okay. I’ll tell you, okay? Just relax.”

Conor sucked in a deep breath before gripping her hands tightly. He shared from the moment Saige had lost consciousness, her magic pumping through the ground and into the river. The three kingdoms had raged on, years of fear and animosity finally able to release. Mortals could harm wielders without breaking any laws or treaties. Witches and warlocks who despised the way Brevil had instilled fear could take out their pain and loss in a more…justified way. Tiranos was just there for the brawl with hopes of robbing Saige of the life she was fighting for. There were at least a hundred casualties on all sides.

Including her aunt, Eva.

“It is not your fault though,” Conor said, seeing her look of anguish.

Loss was a normal part of war, yet it left her stomach raw at the idea it was all because of her. They had gathered there, to either stop or support Saige.

But Saige’s magic had worked.

The land began to heal, easing the three armies. Across the river, Conor described the gruesome details of what Tiranos looked like. When the mist parted, it was all rotten. Bubbling and swollen corpses instantly died when the mist had retreated, as if Saige’s magic had wiped out their life force.

“Your magic didn’t heal Opela overnight,” Conor explained, “but it began a process. Without the mist draining it of its energy day after day, year after year, it finally has the potential to regrow.”

Once the respective parties went back to their territories, task forces were broken up and requested to begin documentation. They’d be returning soon with their findings. Conor swore it was going to be good news, but it was difficult to know their arrival, considering the mist had touched so much land for so many years.

When Conor finished talking, there were still so many questions. She was beginning to gain feeling in her toes, yet her mouth couldn’t move. It was as if her consciousness was lodged in her brain. But one thought bled through all the rest. Was she a prisoner or free? What happened to Queen Anya? And her aunt…Saige couldn’t wrap her mind around how Eva could do such a thing.

“There is more,” Conor spoke softly. “I have the urge to let you rest. But I made a promise to you and myself that I’d no longer try to spare your feelings.” He knelt beside her bed, reaching for her hand. It felt so familiar. Safe. “Tiranos wished to take you captive. Brevil was going to execute you.”

Saige’s eyes felt like they were going to bulge out of her head. Her breath became labored. Flashes flowed through her mind, her anguish and fear the only thing her nerves could feel.

Althea sacrificing herself. Baron being hung from the village square. Conor striking a deal—