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‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐇 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐊𝐘, 𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓, 𝐀𝐍 𝐄𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐃𝐄𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄. Down below, Elowen spies the silhouettes of shifted wolves weaving through trees, wary of patches of blight. Somewhere down there is also Thorn, and she can nearly hear him grumbling and swearing from her height, the sound a calming normalcy from the days prior. From above, her and Morrow take to the skies.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎They carry small packs of clothes and provisions. Unlike her usual attire, Elowen opts for a pair of trousers and boots, airy clothes that'll benefit her in combat, if her situation results to that. Afterall, she's not alone. She'll have Thorn alongside her once they reach Pailon.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Ever since they woke up, Morrow's been keeping to himself. It's impossible to tell if the fae wine actually affected his head, but last night, the alpha seemed so far from himself. He danced with the concept of tomfoolery, wading in alcohol and the warmth of his mate. All of that brought him to one conclusion: he wants a child.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎It's the worst time possible, and it's why she won't even agree to using her magic to conceive.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎The were-wyng growls as he flies beside her. "Stop thinking about it."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"I wasn't until you brought it up last night," she meets his glowing meadow hues. "Why now when the risks are so high?"

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎A tendon in his neck grows taut. "Because."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Not much of an answer, but what could she expect? Morrow's not exactly made of soft mush and will expose his feelings without plenty of prodding and poking.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Because why?"

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Look," he bashfully runs a calloused hand through his windswept charcoal waves. "I already know your decision, even though I told you not to tell me, and I'm sorry I even asked."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎She gulps, sucking in a sharp breath. "Don't apologise. Everything's going so fast between us, and now it might just fall apart right when it started to be good. We never got the chance to even discuss anything for the future."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"It always happens like this," he mutters, "when it starts to feel like the world isn't fucking with me."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Everything between the two has been an adrenaline rush. Even the question itself was brought up in order to counteract the extreme. She hadn't realised, but there'd rarely been a pause in their relationship. When Elowen met the alpha, he was possessive and brooding, demanding she stay in his palace with a refusal to let her escape. Now, they're off with a pack of were and one ancient man to put an end to an all powerful god whose path they've never yet crossed, yet one that feels like they've been traveling on for so long.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"We'll find a day," she whispers, her voice a song in the breeze, "but today isn't it, and neither is tomorrow, but there will be a time when it will change."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎He nods, his body dipping as he flies. as he gazes down below. The silhouettes of his wolves weave through a meadow, patches of blight danced around them as Thorn hollers at them to go in the safest direction.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎It's Thorn who holds the best knowledge of Pailon. He's been there before, but not since he was young, and as he put it, a complete 'dumbass'. The confidence she feels for what awaits there is minimal, just enough to keep the nausea in her stomach at bay. No matter how many times she reminds herself she won't be alone—Thorn will be by her side with his wisdom, and Morrow will be there to help her down the bond—she can't shake the feeling that she's being fed to a beast from hell.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Morrow and Elowen survey the sky until the golden rays of sunlight dip below the cloud-shrouded horizon. It'll take a couple of nights to reach Pailon from Tabrien, requiring them to reroute through Yestrea. It would've been speedier if they could all fly, but the were and Thorn are stranded down below. The moment the pack stops, Morrow swoops down to regroup with them.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Their ragtag group of were is small in numbers, consisting of Ronyn and Arion (Cordea stayed behind to monitor the palace and city) while a few stray gammas and scouts came for support. There's not even a dozen of them in total. Still, she catches Morrow doing a quick head count, then nodding when it settles in that everyone is still there, despite having zero complications on their journey so far.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎The alpha briefly scans the foliage around them, checking for any signs of blight spores growing on the tall grass. Thorn catches Morrow's analytic gaze, clicking his tongue to his cheek until he gets his attention.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"I already checked," he says. "Your were won't be at risk, but that doesn't mean that we shouldn't be on high alert for any blight-infected creatures."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Morrow cocks his head to the side, an unsure tick of his. "If one member of this pack gets the blight..."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Then Elowen and I better move fucking fast to reverse it."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Such a simple solution. Move fast? It feels like they're already moving full speed ahead, like a bird falling from the skies, and she still doesn't feel prepared for it. Yet, Thorn doesn't show a hint of anxiety, despite his plethora of warnings of how dangerous Pailon will be for them.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Morrow faces the group. "Rest up. I need your guards high for when we reach Pailon."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎The plan itself is simple. Morrow will stay at the borders, expending all his energy just to tether to Elowen, to guide, protect, and assist her in whatever way he can through their mind-link. Ronyn, Arion, and the other were will do whatever they can to keep him unharmed. They know the dangers of following; it could end up with them contracting the blight, but they all refuse to let their alpha's fate be the same as it once was.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Someone starts a fire for warmth as the evening chill sets in, gnawing at her bones as she shivers. Most of the were choose to sleep in their wolf forms, their wolves accustomed to napping on soil in bitter breezes. As for Elowen, she finds herself nestled and spooned against Morrow, his shadowed wings becoming her blanket while hers become his.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎It takes her some time to fall asleep in the meadow, staring at the stars trying to count comets while her brain grows lethargic. Less than a year ago, this was her norm. The woodlands. The cushion of grass. She was one with the wild, relying on it in order to survive for fear that if anyone found her, they'd do to her what they did to the rest of the wyng.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎What was it like being alone all those years in the woods? Morrow asks down the bond, all while he lazily drags a finger up the vertebrae in her spine as if he were counting.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎The question takes her off guard, simply because he's never asked before.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎She takes a deep breath in, snuggling in closer. I managed. Terrans aren't exactly friendly to the wyng.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎He chuckles softly. You must've liked it out here. You were always trying to get the fuck away from me.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎You're quite possessive, she hums as he nuzzles into her. But I missed what it felt like to belong somewhere.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Were you really alone?

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Most of the time, she admits. There was a small terran village nearby, and sometimes this old lady at the outskirts would notice me watching and leave me a loaf of bread or some cheese. It lasted for years until her grandson caught me and spread rumours about this wild wyng. I had to flee before the terran knights took the claims seriously.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎There's a pause, followed by a tender kiss on the back of her neck. I'm sorry I never found you sooner.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎I still would've flown away, she teases down the bond.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎And I still would've brought you back home.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎He tightens her hold on her, nuzzling deeper before releasing one of his low rumbling growl that always seems to hold her captive.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎He places a kiss on her pointed ear, his warm breath scaring away the chill. "We need to sleep, sparrow."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎The next day seems to pass as equally boring and ruly as the previous. It's not until the sun begins to dip below the horizon that she recognizes the area they trod. Earlier that day, they crossed into Yestrea, the were slowing down their pace down below as they maze through the blight-woods, but they've finally arrived at that same peculiar meadow where Morrow and Elowen have rested before, the lost fae temple.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Morrow lands first, leading the way as he stands before the temple's grandeur doors. "In here."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎He shoves the doors open to reveal the same cracked marble floors, woven with roots of trees and brush. The familiarity of the place brings her a sense of ease as she hears Morrow's boots splash in a neglected pond, followed by a frog croaking in protest at his disturbance. Through the final rays of sunlight, streaming through the caved ceiling, she follows him.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎The deteriorating sanctuary looks the same as it did, with their fire ashes still remaining at the foot of the goddess' steps. Even as she gazes towards the statue of the fae goddess, she catches that same flame flickering in the tureen.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎She wanders up those stone steps in awe, staring at that singular burning flame, no larger than the tongue on a candle.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"It's ancient fire," a voice says from behind her.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎She flinches, not expecting Thorn to be so close. She thought he'd be settling in for the night like the rest of the were, because tomorrow... well, they'll be in Pailon. The borders aren't far from where they are now, and Thorn's been quite stern this entire journey.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Thorn crosses his arms, his weathered silver hues locked on the flame. "It's the same type of flame that we need to restore at the torch in Pailon, only a thousand times bigger than this."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Elowen leans in closer, almost allured by the glow. "Is that why the blight hasn't ruined this place?"

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎The ancient man hums. "It's why I told you to rest here when you and the hound initially went to Pailon, because no blight-creature would have the audacity to get near a flame like this. It repels darkness and Rhimme's evil." He looks behind him to the were lounging around a newly built fire. Ronyn somehow found a trout in the temple's overgrown and flooded pond, roasting it on a branch with a massive grin on his face, while Arion grimaces—clearly no fan of fish. Morrow remains distant, a coldness as he sits apart from them, but lifts his meadow hues as she feels his wolfish claws tap into her mind. "We're close enough to Pailon for them," he mutters. "If they choose to follow further, they'll risk getting the blight."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Elowen can't look away from her mate. "You know he won't let me go until we're at that border."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"He can't join us," Thorn mutters, his voice almost unheard. "If he's to assist through whatever bond you two hold, then he'll need to stay here."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"So this is it then? We go on, even though we're still a handful of hours away?"

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Thorn gives a begrudging nod. "He has his were to protect him if something goes wrong and we need him on our end."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"But—"

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Elowen," he raises his brows. "We'll leave at dawn. Sharp. Just us."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Maybe she's been in some form of denial that she wouldn't have to part with any of them. Not Morrow. Not Ronyn. But now, reality's setting in faster and faster, her heart pounding against her ribs begging for reassurance. This could be the beginning of the end of the disaster ruling over Aelethia, or worse. This could be her last night, her last chance to breathe, her final sunset...

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎The scales will tip again in the next few days, but she'll never know the truth until she reaches Rhimme.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Are you sure going to Pailon is the right decision?"

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎He grunts. "There's no time to second guess ourselves. We've made our choice, and this is it, no matter how goddamn stupid it is." He sighs, his voice dropping with sentience. "You were right, though. We have to at least try, because the blight will win if we don't."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎The blight will win. She doesn't want to think about that.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎She pushes from Thorn. "I need a minute for fresh air. Tell them I'll be at the entrance if they need me."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎With one last glance at the fire in the goddess' palms, she lets herself have a moment to herself. She sits and slumps against the outer walls of the temple, knees curled up to her chest. She trains her gaze the pink and violet sky, sparse clouds wisping as the stars take over. Tears sting her eyes, her heart beating so powerfully that she feels the organ fracture. This was her idea to go to Pailon, so why does she suddenly feel like they should turn around? She felt good about the venture until now, because before, there was an out. She could go back to the naivety that the were let her have while dwelling in their palace, a naivety that would have them killed if she didn't try to save them.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎The sky has nothing more than a subtle glow from where the sun once hung in the air when a pair of boots steals the silence.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"How're you feeling?" the voice murmurs in the lowest of growls.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎She turns her head to catch Morrow leaning against one of the temple doors, his black wings sheltering the moonlight from his features.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Instead of giving him a viable answer, she lets out a blubbering sob and buries her face into her trousers. He immediately breaks from his stance, shrinking the space between them until he's knelt next to her. Even in his shadows, those meadowed hues still glow like fireflies, captivating her even when she's on the brink of collapsing to her fears.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎He tilts her chin, forcing her to look up. His thumb brushes under her glassy eyes, wiping away salty tears.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Her voice comes out soft hitches. "What if—" A hiccup. "What if I don't come back?"

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"You are."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"But what if I don't?" she shakes her head, studying the strange calmness written on Morrow's face.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"You will, because I need you too," he whispers in the brief space between them. "Hell, I don't know what I'll do if you don't make it out of Pailon, but we both need to believe that you will."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎She turns from him. "It's killing you, isn't it? To not be in control of this all?"

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"It will always feel like I'm dying if there's a chance you'll be in danger," he says as a low territorial growl rumbles through him. He closes his eyes, the glow in them darkening as his wolf surfaces for just a moment. "Letting you go to Pailon with Thorn, it's like I've failed at my duties as an alpha, but more importantly, as your mate."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎She lifts her hand, bestowing him with ear scratches as he leans closer into her.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"You are more than worthy of being my other half," she breathes, "and it will be my honour to protect your province from death."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Their bond ripples with warmth, a heat she hopes will never fade as she embarks into Pailon's unknown. Morrow's always been a little bit crazy when it comes to his attempts to protect Tabrien, but now, it's her turn to be the one to do the one thing that no one would dare attempt.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎He rests his forehead against her own, muttering a soft oath of reverence. "My sparrow."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎And she? She can't stop the words that tumble from her lips. "I love you."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Perhaps it was always written in the constellations that they were meant to separate like oil and water. Long ago, when their orbits first collided, she thought parting with him would be simple, but it isn't so easy for her to let go. In a matter of hours they'll be ripped apart with no idea of when they'll reunite. What fate can't take away is this moment in time, this pause in the oblivion.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎She crawls into his embrace, tapping his jaw. There's no words exchanged between them, just the lingering heat lighting her intentions. As he yaws his head to the side, he exposes that vulnerable mate's mark faded into the most magnificent scar, a bite that hasn't been made since that night on the twin bed in Thorn's abode.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎If this is it, then she'll make this final claim for all of Tabrien to witness.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Once upon a time, Morrow Killian found his mate.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎And she will go down as the luna who would give up everything to save them from the blight.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

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one ticket to pailon please, because that's where we're headed! i'm SO insanely excited to be entering this part of the story. tbh, i never thought i'd make it this far, considering i started writing Sparrow for funsies to get myself out of a writing funk. you guys have no idea how much angst and drama i have stored in these final chapters hehehehe.

i'm literally grinning like someone just gave me a bucketful of chocolate over here. don't mind me :)

ivy <3