Epilogue - Aspen (Patreon)

Epilogue - Aspen

It was late, and the sun was setting over the vast plains and forests spread out to the west. Aspen sat in a chair on the small parapet that would have been a porch when his house had been more conveniently situated on the ground. A quiet scuffing sound warned him that he was no longer alone, and he turned to smile at his wife.

“She’s finally asleep,” Sarave said quietly, coming to stand beside him. Her slim hand slipped into his own, and she leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder.

Aspen chuckled. “Too much excitement today.”

The goblin woman made a soft sound of agreement, her large yellow eyes examining his face.  The fingers of her free hand came up to stroke his cheek gently. “You are happy?”

Aspen turned, carefully catching her deceptively-fragile form in his arms. She asked this every few days, especially after particularly formal events, like the one they’d presided over today. It had been his official coronation as hu’we, the male consort of the goblin queen, and he’d had to memorize a great deal of goblin’te, the ancient language of her people. Of course, there had also been the battle to defeat the queen’s champion - in this case, her brother, Nekthadt - and Aspen winced as Sarave’s fingers brushed the new pink scar bisecting his cheek.

“Does it hurt?” Sarave asked, expression torn between worry and anger. “I told him not to actually hurt you-”

Aspen clasped her cool fingers in his own and kissed them. “It doesn’t hurt. He knew I could heal anything short of death. He also knew we had to put on a good show for the keffi and keffi-ji. There are still many, among the keffi-ji especially, who aren’t happy about having to give up the power that they stole over centuries of having a queen in hiding. We had to show that you were protected by strong males. Besides, I gave as good as I got.”

He grinned, thinking of the glare Nekthadt had given him when the thick, thorny vines of Aspen’s shrub roses had left deep gouges freely oozing blood all over the goblin’s body. Aspen had been trying not to hurt his brother-in-law too badly, but after Nekthadt’s obsidian blade laid Aspen’s cheek open to the bone, the gloves came off. Besides, the thin scars left by hundreds of thorns would vanish in a year, while Aspen would likely have a reminder of today’s battle for the rest of his life.

Sarave shook her head in exasperation, then tried to blow away a strand of hair that fell across her eye as a result of the movement. Aspen smoothed away the offending strands, marveling again that he was free to touch her like this. Quickly, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. She kissed him back briefly, though she never lingered, since she feared accidentally cutting him with her sharp teeth.

Drawing back, Sarave murmured, “Will you come to bed soon? I have paperwork to do, but I’m too tired to do more than what must be done.”

Aspen nodded. “I’ll be there before you fall asleep. I just want to see the stars come out.”

Already, the fading colors of the sunset were vanishing from the sky, as if the deep blackness of the night sky had swallowed the sun. Sarave nodded and stroked the new scar once more, before pressing a butterfly kiss atop it. “I’ll wait for you, then.” Her eyes met his. “Always.”

Aspen’s full heart felt as if it might burst in his chest, but he managed to nod. “Always,” he returned, huskily. Sarave smiled, allowing a brief flash of sharp, white teeth, and vanished back into the small stone house that perched atop her castle’s single tower.

He sat, still and silent, as true darkness fell over the bustling city below. Refuge was no longer small. People were coming from all over, and whether they were running from something or away, nearly all of them sought true refuge in some way.

His lips quirked. All but the Travelers. Those strange, foreign people came out of nothing more than curiosity. Some were helpful, while others caused nothing but trouble, but all of them were as awkward and curious as kittens, bumbling around knocking vases off of tables.

Below, two Travelers, a young man with bright pink hair and a slightly older blonde woman, danced in nothing but their underwear. The denizens of Bright, already used to such sights, simply continued about their business. Meanwhile, overhead, the unchanging stars were emerging into brilliance eclipsed only by the luminescence of the twin moons.

Blinking, Aspen took a second, longer look at the sky. He was shaken from his reverie as one of the moons… winked at him? Specifically, the slightly larger, brighter moon, which was commonly known as the Goddess, while its smaller twin was the Little God. In ancient times, however, they had had different names, and this one was-

“Gina?”

The woman who formed beside him wasn’t Gina. Or rather, she was, but not the Gina he knew. Over the past few days all of the representations of Refuge’s patron goddess had begun to change, though he suspected it had begun even sooner and simply taken him a while to notice. When he’d questioned others about it, none of them had batted an eye, including Sarave. In fact, it had been oddly difficult to even keep their attention focused on the problem.

“Hello, Aspen,” the woman he knew as Amy said.

“I-” He hesitated, looking around for a strawberry blonde with rainbow eyes. “I don’t know what to call you. Ah, my lady.”

She smiled a little sadly, and the flowers in her hair rustled their tiny white petals. “Amy will do. Though I think you’ve noticed that I officially have another name.”

Aspen nodded slowly. “Everyone calls you Gina, now. Every trace of the Gina I knew is… vanishing.” His heart clenched with a strange feeling of loss, though he hadn’t actually spent that much time with his effervescent deity. “Is she all right?”

Amy smiled. A large mushroom sprouted from the wood of the parapet beside her, growing up into a smooth dome that glimmered gently in the dimness. Amy sat, pulling her feet up and curling into a comfortable pose. “She’s fine. She’s just busy, and she asked me to step in. She’s actually getting married soon, and that demands a lot of her time.”

Aspen blinked. “I… see.”

She sighed, and a wisp of wind teased the brim of his hat, threatening to expose the slender golden circlet that lay beneath it. “You know, I was actually the original Gina. If things had gone as we expected, the Gina you knew would never have existed. All we’re doing is returning the world to the way it was meant to be. It’s just that you are… aware enough to notice.”

“Why?” He asked. The question burst from his lips, unintended. “Why me? Why am I different from everyone else?”

The goddess hesitated, running fingers through her rich brown curls, expression conflicted. “I can’t exactly explain that, Aspen. It has to do with your place in the world, and the fact that you carried the Traveler spirit for so long. You are, in a way, no longer part of this world, though not to the extent that the Travelers are. Please believe me, though, when I say that we never meant you any harm. The complete opposite, in fact. We very much hoped that you would live the rest of your life peacefully.”

Aspen looked at her, and one eyebrow slowly lifted toward his hairline. He could feel the cold metal of his crown touch his forehead. “Hoped?”

Amy drew in a deep breath. “You can still. All you have to do is tell me no, and I’ll leave, and never trouble you again.”

A flutter rose in his throat, while his stomach sank at the same time. “Never?”

She shrugged. “Well, not never.” She smiled secretively, and her eyes flicked toward the doorway through which Sarave had exited. “After all, you are the Champion of the goddess of fecundity. I daresay you’ll have a few opportunities to call upon me in the future. It’s simply that I’ll only be present in an… official capacity.”

Aspen’s mind spun for a whole new reason, and he considered the primary reason why the average person might call on Gina. Births. She liked weddings, too, though most people invoked their personal god when they were wed, but nearly everyone thanked Gina when a new child was born or spawned. “Uh-”

She giggled, and the sound fell like a ripple of music over the city. People below paused, looking up, before continuing on with new smiles on their faces. “Hold that thought. First, I need to ask you my question.”

He forced a nod.

“I’ve recently discovered something,” she said, carefully. “It’s not something that should directly affect your world, but, thanks to what… who, you are, you are uniquely qualified to assist me. I would need to take you away from here, just for a little while. No longer than a dream. Your family wouldn’t even have time to miss you. I won’t lie, though. If you choose to go, your life will be in danger. If we fail, you could die… or worse.”

Before he could ask what could be worse than death, she hurried on. “But, if you succeed, I can promise that the reward will be worth it.”

Aspen frowned, already shaking his head. “I’m sorry. I can’t do that to Sarave. Especially if… If our family is going to grow even larger. I promised her I wouldn’t take any more risks. She’s lost enough, and, frankly, so have I.”

Amy leaned forward, swinging her legs down to plant her feet firmly on the ground. “What if I could give you Lark?”

His breath froze in his lungs, and he simply stared at her. Even Gina, his Gina, hadn’t been able to grant him this.

“Not as she was,” Amy went on, green gaze intense on his. “It’s against the rules to resurrect a Native. There’s nothing I can do about that. But I can give you her soul. Atae is holding it separately, keeping it out of the Chaos Pool. She owes me a favor or two, and I’ll trade every one of them for it. When, as you say, your family grows, I can promise that Lark will be among them.”

A single tear burned its way down Aspen’s cheek, and he didn’t even bother wiping it away. “Yes,” he said. “Whatever it is, I’ll do it. Just, please, if you can, bring me home. Don’t leave Sarave alone again.”

Amy bit her lip, but nodded. “Yes. I can… Look, if the worst happens, I can make sure Sarave isn’t alone. What returns might not exactly be you, but, just as no one else remembers there was once a different Gina, I can make sure no one knows Aspen used to be different, as well. None of your family would have reason to mourn you.”

Aspen’s gut clenched at the idea that his wife might be with another man, even one she thought was him. Was betraying her trust in that way actually better than leaving her alone? “I… Let me think. I’ll go, but I don’t-”

She nodded, smiling sadly. “I thought you might say that. After all, a copy isn’t the real thing, is it? A truth, even a painful one, is still better than a lie.”

He nodded jerkily, and the tear slid from his jaw to splash to the wooden planks beneath his feet. A tiny branch began to grow from the splotch of salty moisture. “Yes. Maybe…? I just… When will you need an answer?”

She stood, brushing her gauzy green dress free of glittering dust. “Not tonight. Honestly, maybe not ever. I’m following a trail into a rabbit hole, and it’s possible it will lead to nothing but a dead end.” She laughed, bitterness tingeing the musical sound. “I’ll let you know when I do. Just think about it until then.”

He held up a hand as she began to fade, and she hesitated, solidifying again. “Please. What about Lark?”

Slowly, she shook her head. “I wish I could just give her back to you, Aspen. But I need you. If I send her to you now, you may decide not to go.”

Reaching out, he laid a hand on hers, and found that hers was trembling. “I’ll go. I’m just not sure if I can agree to this… substitution. I know what Sarave would say, and-”

A blinding smile lit Amy’s face. “Thank you,” she whispered. “You don’t know what it means-” She choked off, and a few incandescent silver tears merged with his own on the wood beneath their feet. Flowers joined the tiny, twining branches, but neither of them noticed. “Do you swear? You can’t change your mind.”

Aspen nodded. “I’ll go.” His heart twisted at seeing her sorrow and her joy, and he gently wiped a lingering tear from her cheek. His finger tingled, and his tattoos leapt into brilliance. “I swear by Gina and Atae, that I will aid you, however I can.”

She nodded. “So be it. Then when next you see me, I will bring you your Lark.”

The goddess vanished. He wrapped his arms around himself and turned his face up to the sky as a hundred more tears watered the ground.