Heir to a Fallen Star

Chapter 38

And then, the world falls away.

"Iris."

I hear my name carried across the silence.

"Mother?" I call.

"Come, my darling."

Her voice is warm, gentle.

"I'm in a land of light," she says. "Everything is white."

I look around. There is nothing but endless white stretching in every direction.

"Mother... where do I go?"

"Follow my voice, Iris."

I walk toward a destination I cannot see. Each step feels as though I'm moving nowhere, yet something deep inside tells me to keep going.

I walk and walk until an old rustic door appears before me.

"Go inside, my dear."

I hesitate. The weathered wood feels strangely unsettling.

"It seems... unnerving."

"Do not be afraid," my mother whispers. "It is just a memory."

Slowly, I reach for the handle and push the door open.

The familiar scent of lavender and honeysuckle greets me instantly.

The apothecary.

A smile finds my lips.

Bundles of dried herbs hang from the rafters. I brush my fingers against them, smiling at the familiar crunch beneath my fingertips.

But something is different.

Older.

Less familiar.

The shelves are worn. The wood darker with age. Time has left its fingerprints everywhere.

Then I hear voices.

Distant.

Echoing.

"Remind her you're here, Kaelen."

"I'm here, Red. Don't leave me."

The words send a hot flush racing through my body.

Then...

I hear it.

The steady, melodic rhythm of his heartbeat.

Kaelen.

A quiet reminder that I'm not alone.

The sound gives me courage.

I climb the wooden stairs.

At the top, I freeze.

My mother lies in bed.

She is impossibly pale. Her dark hair clings to her sweat-soaked face, strands plastered against her cheeks. Every breath is a struggle.

My father kneels beside her, clutching her hand with both of his.

His body shakes violently as he buries his face against her fingers.

He is crying.

Not quietly.

Not with restraint.

He is breaking.

"You need to protect her," my mother gasps between breaths. "They will come for her."

My father's head snaps up, tears streaming freely down his face.

"Morgana does not know about her," Mother continues, each word costing her another breath. "You must give her the tonic... and run."

She coughs, fighting for air.

"If you run... they will follow you."

She reaches weakly for his face.

"The man you are... a man of honour... would never abandon a child."

Her breathing becomes ragged.

"They will believe you have the stone."

Another painful breath.

"You run..."

She grips his hand with surprising strength.

"And keep running, Khalel."

Her eyes find his one last time.

Then, with every ounce of strength she has left, she cries,

"Keep our Iris safe!"

Her head falls back.

Her eyes remain open.

Her mouth still.

Silence.

Tears stream down my face as I watch my mother die.

Then—

Her body erupts into brilliant white light.

It is so bright I have to shield my eyes.

When the light finally fades...

She is gone.

All that remains in my father's trembling hands...

...is the stone.

A broken sob escapes him.

He clutches it to his chest before pressing one final kiss against its smooth surface.

"I promise," he whispers through shattered breaths. "No matter how difficult it becomes..."

He closes his eyes.

"I will make sure our daughter is safe."

The blinding white void shatters as your father’s heartbroken sob echoes through the memory. Before you can even process the agonizing sight of him clenching the newly formed stone to his chest, a violent tear rips through the fabric of the vision.

"She's been under too long, Kaelen! Pull her out now!" Aster’s panicked voice punches through the celestial fog like a crack of thunder.

Instantly, the slow, rhythmic thump of the heartbeat against your chest erupts into a frantic, terrifying roar. Kaelen doesn't just pull you; he reacts with the raw, explosive desperation of a soldier saving a comrade from a collapsing building. His massive arms tighten around your waist like iron bands, and with a fiercely guttural roar, he jerks his entire body backward, ripping you physically away from the invisible undertow of the light.

Gasps. Your eyes fly open, and you violently convulse, a sharp, ragged scream tearing from your throat as your lungs desperately violently fight for air. The blinding white of the memory snaps into the dim, shadowy reality of the cottage.

You collapse forward against Kaelen’s chest, sobbing uncontrollably, your entire body trembling so violently that your teeth chatter. The tears you shed in the memory are real, hot and pouring down your pale cheeks, blurring the sight of the single flickering candle on the table.

Kaelen’s eyes are wide, flashing with a wild, protective panic. He doesn't care about the rules anymore; his head is snapped up from your neck, his chest heaving as fast as yours. He cups the back of your head with a massive, trembling hand, pressing you so hard against his chest that you can feel his actual ribcage vibrating with the frantic, terrified hammering of his heart.

"I've got you, Red! I've got you, breath," he rasps, his deep voice cracking with raw emotion as he rocks you back and forth on the braided rug. "You're back. I'm right here. Look at me, Iris, I'm right here!"

Across the room, Aster is on her knees, breathless, her white hair dishevelled as she quickly uses a woollen cloth to smother the twin star on the table, cutting off the residual golden light that had begun to bleed into the room.

The heat of the memory—the smell of the old apothecary, the sight of your mother's final breath, and the agonizing truth of your father's sacrifice—is still burning through your veins. Your father didn't abandon you because he didn't want you. He ran to become a decoy. He sacrificed his entire life, running from a shadow named Morgana, just to keep the world's eyes off a little girl in an apothecary shop.

"Khalel..." you choke out through your sobs, gripping Kaelen’s leather jacket with white-knuckled desperation as the truth finally settles into your soul. "His name... his name was Khalel."

The frantic pounding of Kaelen’s heart slowly begins to steady against your cheek, but the cold dread inside the room only thickens. You pull back slightly from his chest, your hands still trembling violently as you wipe the tears from your face. Your grey eyes, wide and sharp with a newfound, painful clarity, lock directly onto your cousin.

"Who is Morgana?" you demand, your voice raw and cracking.

Aster freezes. The woollen cloth she was using to smother the twin star slips from her fingers, dropping to the floor in the heavy silence. The dreamlike, ethereal peace that usually cloaks her completely vanishes.

Her expression drops. Her porcelain skin somehow turns even paler, and her stormy grey eyes widen with a sheer, unadulterated terror that makes her look fragile for the very first time. She looks absolutely petrified, her mouth opening slightly as if the very breath has been stolen from her lungs. She looks at you, then glances fearfully toward the dark windows of the cottage, as if merely speaking the name aloud might call a demon out of the highland mist.

Behind you, Kaelen feels the sudden shift in the room's energy. His grip on your waist tightens instinctively, his body coiling back into an aggressive, defensive posture. His moss-green eyes dart from Aster's terrified face back to you.

"Aster," Kaelen rumbles, his deep voice carrying a dangerous, low edge that demands an answer. "Talk to us. Who the hell is Morgana, and why did Iris's mother give up her life to hide from her?"