Page 52 of The Last Remaining Light

Caelyn nodded. “From the western caverns. You said once that it looked like frozen starlight.”

Her eyes widened. “That was so long ago,” she whispered.

He smiled sadly, nodding once. “Yeah…” he agreed. “It was.”

Elowynn stared down at the crystal for several breaths before closing her fingers around it and holding it against her chest. “I do not know what to say,” she admitted.

Caelyn’s smile turned affectionate before he gave a gentle shake of his head. “You don’t have to say anything. I only hope it brings you some sort of comfort if you ever find yourself missing—” me, he wanted to say. He cleared his throat. “—the abbey.”

He could almost feel Sister Agatha rolling her eyes at him from a distance with his refusal to speak the truth of his feelings.

Another bell rang below.

Final departure. She had to go before the caravan left without her. Though he knew it wouldn’t. Sister Agatha and her sharp words would make sure of that.

Elowynn inhaled shakily before stepping backward toward the stairs leading down from the sea wall.

Then she stopped.

“Caelyn?”

Heartbreak was evident in the way he looked at her, like she was the last remaining light he’d ever see. With how perceptive she was, there had to be no way she didn't know. Right?

“Yes?” he answered.

Her gaze searched his face. Was she taking in every emotion he could no longer conceal?

“You will still be here when I come back?” she asked.

The question nearly brought him to his knees because there was a part of him that feared he would not survive becoming the version of himself left behind after this sun ended.

Still—

Caelyn nodded and attempted an encouraging smile. “Always.”

Elowynn smiled at him through the shine of tears before turning toward the stairs.

And just like that, she was gone.

Caelyn continued to stand motionless long after she disappeared from sight.

He still faced the stairs she had descended, a sliver of selfish hope surging through him.

Perhaps she would change her mind and come running back up the stairs, telling him this was all just a jest. But he knew that was a foolish thought.

The sounds of the departure carried upward from below: restless horses stamped their hooves and snorted, wagon wheels groaned, and voices called out for preparation.

Finally, unable to stop himself any longer, Caelyn moved toward the edge of the walls overlooking the northern road.

The caravan began to trundle along the road and through the gates. He found her among the travelers in an instant. Even from this distance he recognized the lustrous strands of her hair beneath the hood of her cloak and the refined posture she had when seated.

The caravan had three passenger carriages and two wagons for rations and extra supplies. Elowynn sat near a window of the middle carriage. The more valuable items, such as crates of research journals and scrolls, along with resonance instruments, were strapped down atop it and wrapped tight with a leather covering to protect them from the snow.

Seeing her made Caelyn’s heart quicken, his breathing becoming erratic as he forced himself not to shout for her to come back.

As though sensing him watching, she looked up.

Their eyes met one final time, and Elowynn lifted her hand in the smallest of waves.