Page 32 of The Starlight Savior

“I’ve seen the mist only from the distance, tainting Tiranos,” Eva read, “just a sliver of it. Where the river meets the mortal lands, fish float to the top of the water. Mortals claim they cannot grow any food here or else it dies. They are desperate, and there is nothing I can do. Every time I try to reach out to grasp it, to understand it, I am met with endless burning power that leaves me feeling drained.”

That had been over twenty-five years ago, before she was born. “Was the mist in Brevil all along?”

“Maybe parts of it,” Eva said. “Your father discovered that while it’s not directly in Brevil, it can impact from a distance, especially near a water source. Seeps through the ground. I’m sure your king compensated the families by the river very well to keep the secret of the dying land.”

“King Brennus always said that the magic couldn’t go past our borders.”

Eva smiled. “Most people in power will say anything to keep the chaos to a minimum.”

The thought of Hadeon appeared suddenly in Saige’s mind. She didn’t know much about his upbringing, but he hadn’t been raised in Denholm. He had traveled from a northern commune along the river that ran through the heart of Opela. If the mist had been impacting land near water sources, had he seen such disarray? If he had, he never mentioned it. But why would he? Saige was not someone who would open her heart to him either.

The second, third, and fourth letter highlighted the same observations her father first wrote of. Saige’s chest ached as she listened to Eva’s voice, reading the swirling words on the fading page.

Dying land, desperate people, soldiers, and magic-wielders searching for any solution. But there was none. No matter how far and deep her father searched for a cure behind the slow moving chaos and destruction, there was nothing he could do.

Saige wrung her hands in her lap as she listened, Eva’s words becoming sharper and quicker as if she was reading the terrible news for the first time again.

“That must have been difficult to receive,” Saige thought aloud.

“Of course it was,” Eva said. “My brother and I were given such a vital task. We found nothing.” She let out a sharp laugh. “It was probably the first time your father ever failed.”

“Really?” Saige asked.

“Oh yes. Growing up, Oscar was good at everything, including things that didn’t quite make sense for a boy like him. Sewing and embroidering, painting, cooking, sword fighting, wrestling. Anything he put his mind to he was able to accomplish. Except saving the land of course.”

Saige lowered her head, watching her fingers turn white as she gripped them in her lap. Eva’s words were so wholeheartedly true that she couldn’t deny it was her father. Yet Eva was describing a man, a warlock, Saige truly never met.

Eva opened the fifth letter. Tears had dried on Saige’s cheeks, but when Eva continued to read, all the emotion and anguish came flooding back once again.

“I’m sorry for the delay in letters. It has been mayhem since three farms closed. The curse runs far deeper than anyone would’ve imagined. I watched a child drink from the stream and before the sun could rise, they passed to the Otherworld, accompanied by Caelum. I want to leave. I want to give up on this impossible task of finding a cure for a thing that we cannot even describe. But I cannot. I met Emery.”

“My mother,” Saige whispered. When she was a child, she’d beg her parents to retell the story of their courting over and over, basking in their pink cheeks and swooning smiles.

Her mother claimed her father was relentless. Coming by the orphanage her mother grew up in every morning, he claimed to do routine checks in his strange uniform. He’d speak of wishing to see the beautiful handmaid with the bright yellow hair. “The color of the sun,” her father would always whisper, leaning in close to Saige as if sharing their own secret.

Emery finally decided to give Oscar a chance when he planned a picnic. He had saved his coin to buy fresh bread, thinly sliced meat, and the sweetest wine her mother had ever tried. She was smitten from that moment on, realizing the lengths Saige’s father would take to care for her.

Although now that Saige realized the extent of her father’s status, she wasn’t so sure he missed the coin spent on wooing her mother.

Hearing and reading his words, the very first account of his love for Saige’s mother, hurt more than she could ever realize. If there was an afterlife, guarded by Caelum, she hoped they were with each other now.

“Was it common for wielders and mortals to wed?” Saige leaned forward. Her mind was drawn back to the book awaiting her in her quarters.

“It’s incredibly rare. Wielders often outlive mortals, especially if they have strong bloodlines. But once he met your mother, he couldn’t leave. But he couldn’t exactly bring her back to Etrane either. Not without a clear plan in mind on how the mist worked. So he stayed in Brevil. Married your mother. Looked for some sort of clues on how he could help all of Opela.

“Oscar was a strong, powerful warrior, the pit of his magic bottomless. But he was also selfless. He watched all the mortals at the border suffering, not being able to heal land with their hands or conjure fresh water from the sky. They were powerless in a world that was dominated by magic. He couldn’t let that go.”

Eva put aside the letters. “I think we should stop here. I don’t want to overwhelm you. And”—she licked her lips—“I’ve kept these to myself for so long…it feels like shedding pieces of him. Which of course I want to do, but…”

Eva’s palms were faced open, beckoning for Saige to join her in the endless waves of grief. At first, she hesitated. This life had been hidden from her. Something tugged in her chest to keep this all to herself—this woman before her didn’t deserve to feel the shakiness in her fingers or the sweat slicking her skin.

But she was here now. She had an aunt.

Placing her hands in Eva’s small ones, Saige exhaled slowly, letting the feeling of skin and connection ease the stutter in her chest.

“I know how hurt you must feel,” Eva whispered, squeezing Saige’s hand lightly. “Everything you are seeing and hearing here is a reminder that your father is a liar.”

Saige opened her mouth, ready to defend her father despite the ache, but Eva continued.