Page 51 of The Last Remaining Light

“You always sound so certain about me,” she sniffled.

Because he was.

Because the world seemed to tilt whenever she touched resonance. Because she carried starlight in her bones and brilliance in every thought. Because he had spent eight wonderful turnings watching her become extraordinary without even realizing she was doing it.

Before thinking better of it, Caelyn reached up. A tentative finger brushed against a loose strand of that pale golden hair caught against her pointed ear. He tugged it just enough, letting it free, before absently trailing his finger toward her temple. Turning his hand, he slid the back of it down her cheek and then to her jaw in a feather-light stroke.

Elowynn was staring at him, unmoving. His eyes lifted to hers, which were wide and uncertain. Her lips had parted, but she was holding her breath.

The moment stretched for too long. It was too intimate, too dangerous.

Caelyn was careful when he lowered his hand again, his throat bobbing as he swallowed.

“I think,” he whispered, “you were always meant to leave Lumenshire for greater things.”

Pain flickered across her face, and Caelyn had to look away from her before she could see too much.

That was when the bells began ringing their first tolling of the sun across the abbey below.

Departure. It was time for her to go.

Caelyn felt the sound reverberate through his bones and watched as Elowynn closed her eyes.

“I hate this,” she whispered.

“So do I,” he admitted.

Then, before he could prepare himself for it, Elowynn closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around him again.

Caelyn wasted no time in folding his own around her, matching the embrace. Her face pressed against the hollow beneath his throat while his hand rested on the back of her head, fingers threading through her hair.

It was then he realized it was possibly the last time he would ever hold her like this.

“I will write,” Elowynn murmured against his skin, breaking his train of thought.

Caelyn closed his eyes and pressed his nose to the top of her head. “You’d better.”

A weak laugh escaped her, and he nuzzled her hair once, inhaling the parchment and herbal scent that was wholly hers.

He wished with a desperate heart that time would stop here.

Eventually Elowynn pulled away, and it was then that Caelyn knew this was truly happening.

Below them, the caravan waited near the southern gates. Seralyth stood beside the lead carriage wrapped in heavy furs while Sister Agatha barked final instructions at several exhausted-looking scholars attempting to secure trunks filled with their belongings.

One of those trunks belonged to Elowynn.

“El,” Caelyn said quickly.

He had almost forgotten!

She turned back toward him, eyes wide with tears but also that relentless curiosity.

There were so many things he wanted to say to her, but he would survive none of them. Instead, he reached into the pocket of his coat before pulling free a small polished crystal threaded with delicate silver-blue stratum.

The flare in her eyes indicated that Elowynn recognized it right away.

“Astryllion quartz,” she whispered.