The dawn after the root was given was silent—almost sacred. A hush fell over the palace as if even the wind was holding its breath, waiting.
Erevan woke to sunlight casting golden threads across the stone ceiling. His chest didn't burn. His heart no longer fluttered like a trapped bird. For the first time in days, he breathed deeply. No pain.
"Carlos…" he whispered, then sat up so fast that Lumira had to push him gently back onto the bed.
"You're not dying anymore, Your Majesty," she said with a relieved smile. "But if you jump up like an idiot, you'll still faint like one."
He ignored her completely. "Where is he?"
Lumira hesitated, then nodded to the door.
"He returned. Alive. But… unconscious. He hasn't woken up. The fight for the root—it wasn't easy. Even the Mother Tree had to intervene."
Erevan pushed past her, limbs trembling but soul alight. He would see his brother with his own eyes.
---
Carlos lay in one of the palace's private chambers, wrapped in linen and silence. His hands were wrapped tightly in healing cloth, still twitching now and then as if they remembered the flames. The scent of medicine filled the air—no lilies.
Erevan stood at the door for a long time.
"You reckless, flaming idiot," he muttered.
He walked in and sat at Carlos's bedside, staring down at the boy who was still younger than him, even if it never felt that way.
"You're fifteen," he began, voice cracking. "Fifteen. Do you even know what fifteen-year-olds are supposed to be doing? Not riding into ancient elf territory. Not bargaining with gods. Not burning forests to the ground!"
He paused and exhaled. "Not carrying the world when I should be the one doing it."
Carlos didn't move.
"Who told you to care so much, huh?" Erevan whispered. "Why would you burn your hands for me?"
Still nothing.
"I should be furious. I should yell at you. You terrified me. You…" Erevan's voice broke. "You were gone. I thought I lost you."
He leaned forward, pressing a hand over his eyes. "You stupid, stubborn little brother—"
"Are you done crying like a prince that lost his sword?"
Erevan froze.
Carlos's eyes were open. Barely, but the mischief in them was unmistakable. He looked tired, battered, and halfway to unconsciousness again—but his gaze was fixed on Erevan like he'd been awake the whole time.
"You look like someone sat on your crown," Carlos added, voice hoarse. "And you're talking too loud."
Erevan let out a laugh—sharp, wet with relief.
"Carlos!"
He threw his arms around his brother, forgetting royalty and dignity altogether.
"Ow," Carlos muttered. "Burnt. Still hurts."
Erevan pulled back but didn't let go of his hand. "Don't you ever do that again."
Carlos tilted his head. "Letting you die? Or saving you?"
"Both."
Carlos smirked faintly. "You're welcome."
---
Outside the chamber, Lumira leaned against the wall, arms folded. Kave stood beside her, wide-eyed, having just arrived after finishing a round of interrogations.
"He's really awake?" Kave asked.
"He is," Lumira said. "And already calling the king stupid. So I'd say he's back to normal."
Kave rubbed the back of his neck. "You think he'll tell the king… about how he fought the ancient elf, or the Mother Tree's blessing, or the fire that almost killed him?"
"No," Lumira said quietly. "Carlos doesn't save people for praise. He saves them because he can't bear to lose them."
Kave looked through the doorway where Erevan and Carlos sat together, the king laughing softly while Carlos closed his eyes again, finally resting with peace on his face.
"Still," Kave said. "Someone should tell the kingdom what he did."
Lumira smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "The kingdom will learn soon enough. This boy—this mask of the gods—he won't stay hidden forever."
She looked up at the sky, thinking of the forest that vanished after Carlos left, of the god that answered his dreams, and the road that still stretched ahead of them.
"War is coming," she said softly. "And this time, it's not the king they'll fear. It's his brother."