Nevermore: An Epilogue

[Kira Adia]

Author’s Note:

A form of this short story has been on my mind for quite some time. I had the idea while still writing Once Upon a Midnight Dreary and had written a now lost draft at one point while working on one of the later sections of the existing story. It, along with the rest of the tale, was archived when I stepped away from writing to address other concerns in my life.

The world always has a way to throw disruptions into life, and as the saying goes, real life comes first.

Two years later, I’m happy to report that I am in a much better place overall and the minor crisis that led to my sabbatical has long been overcome. However, with so much time passed and with many of my writing partners having moved on to other projects, I feel certain that the story will remain in its current incomplete state indefinitely. It remains one of the heights of my creative endeavors and a source of pride I fondly look back on regularly.

The story will probably never be complete, but I feel I can at least give a little closure to Kira and hopefully to those who love her. This story takes place a couple of years at least after the events that were to conclude Once Upon. I hope you enjoy this story as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it.

This may or may not be the end of my time writing tales of Kira, but if it is, I feel now she can find some peace in her life, and I hope her loved ones find some peace with her when they can.

-S.A.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

James had not been to Rathskellar before today. He’d had no particular reason to visit the cozy little tavern in Seaside. Point of fact, he’d barely been anywhere other than the Estate, the Red Dragon, or the Studium in over a year now. He generally liked it that way. His body might not age, but he was an old man in his soul, and the days of adventure had long passed him by.

Maybe in another century he might get stir crazy and go out to pursue some wanderlust, but nothing like the mercenary years of his youth.

Truely, he wasn’t here of his own volition. Kira had sent word that she needed his presence, and such a request was rare enough to warrant his interest. Not that she couldn't (or didn’t) seek him out when she needed his help or his company any other time.

He paused to admire the doors for a brief moment before entering the building. Much of the structure was of wood not native to RhyDin. That was not as noteworthy as it might have seemed to outsiders. Anything and everything this side of the Nexus could be found here eventually. That did nothing to lessen the sentimentality of the gesture. This was, to someone, a piece of one’s homeworld brought to this adopted place. A way to create continuity. To say to the multiverse ‘I am here and I will remain here.’

James pushed through the passage.

His first aim was the bistro. A quick exchange of words and currency earned him a to-go cup of hot tea. Soon, he walked the path through the garden, taking his time to admire the craftsmanship of the displays on his way to the place he'd been told of. Taking a left at a fork in the trail, he passed a series of standing stones on his approach to the young faeling he sought.

Kira stood facing the next to last marker, all but lost in clear thought. An obsidian haired baby babbled in her arms, while her fiery headed twin snoozed in the stroller parked at Kira’s elbow. For her part, the faeling idly whispered to her daughter as in response to the chattering, but James could see she was distracted in this place.

“This really is a beautiful place.” The professor extended his offering of the tea, all but demanding an exchange for his niece. Kira smiled to him as she passed the child over, who proceeded to chat animatedly to him, mirroring his glowing grin. “She had it built, right?”

Kira nodded as she sipped the tea, turning her attention back to the stone. “I come here when I want to remember.” She switched to their native tongue. A sign she did not have the desire or the capacity at current to translate her thoughts into Common English. “It has become a place where I can relax.”

James nodded in return before looking down at the child in his arms. “The girls are getting big.”

“They will be a year and a half soon. They both should be napping at the moment, but little Pasarica insists on being involved.”

The youngling babbled as if in agreement, and James thought he heard a bit of the family’s secret language in the stray syllables. His eyebrows rose. “You’re not starting them with English? Or at least with Thendozal Common?”

Kira peered over with a wry smile. “They picked it up on their own. She and Aderyn have a remarkable link, and they learn much faster than I would have expected. They both can speak English and a little in this tongue, but they seem to have overheard me speak in Adian Cant enough to already have a grasp on it.” She gestured to Rika. “It almost seems they have a private dialect all their own, in fact.”

“Well.” James chucked at the revelation. “They’ll certainly be a handful.” Creating their own dialect of the Cant was almost unheard of, especially outside of Thendozal itself. It would certainly throw a new wrench in the parenting process. The two would forever have a private language all their own, impenetrable to the adults around them.

Kira smiled. A certain warmth and pride in her expression lingered as she turned back to the stone. James’s gaze followed hers, and he took in the monolith. The stone was smooth and nearly featureless. Any imperfections that might exist were imperceptible to his eyes. Two lines of text were the only features visible in the dark face.

"Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor."

He knew the significance of the words. It was James who had introduced her to Poe during their escape from their homeland, and she’d confided its significance in her life many times over the years. His eyes drifted back to the child in his arms. She seemed almost solemn herself. James studied her dark hair and fair features. The first signs of freckles were blossoming on her cheeks, and a vibrant fire burned in her amethyst eyes. “She looks like-”

“Like her grandmother.” Kira cut him off, though her eyes didn't leave the epitaph.

He looked back to her, sure a small measure of surprise showed on his face. Kira almost never spoke openly of their mother, but she was right. “Well, she does at that.” Rika’s head swiveled between the adults. “And I’m guessing that’s what you’re gonna tell her as she grows up?”

Kira nodded, sipping again from her tea. “She looks like Mira as well, to a point. And both of them show signs of dhampirism.” She turned to meet his eyes, a glint of defiance in her gaze. “They are twins, James. Born of the same magic and sharing its essence.”


An eyebrow arced on his face. “And the fragment you found after the ritual to free Sylista’s soul?”

Kira held his gaze a half second longer, then turned back to the marker. “A pebble. Nothing more. All that existed of Syl has passed beyond the Void.” There was a slight hesitation in the pause. “She is at peace.”

James studied her a moment longer, then looked back to the stone itself. “So. I’m guessing you’re here to say goodbye, then.”

The sound of a particularly energetic wave on the nearby shore filled the silence. “I… didn’t want to do this alone.”

James stook a step closer and set a hand on her shoulder in a gesture he hoped was comforting. They stood in silence for a long moment.

Apparently growing bored of the antics of the adults, Rika blinked sleepily and yawned. James muttered something in the Cant to her before placing her in the stroller next to her sister. Ryn instinctively reached out towards her sister, and Rika took her hand as she closed her eyes. Seconds later, the pair were snoozing soundly, and James returned to his place next to his own soul twin.

The tea was finished at this point, but the empty cup was held all but forgotten in Kira’s hand. He took the cup from her gently and placed it in the cup holder on the stroller. This roused her somewhat. “Thank you for coming, my dear. I hope your schedule was not disrupted.”

The sorcerer nodded. “Anytime, Kira. I’m in no hurry.”

“Just… one moment longer, please.” She stepped forward and traced her finger along the letters. James had the impression of one clinging to every detail of a thing she knew she would never see again. As though the act might conjure some specter of the lost love Poe spoke of so long ago.

At the end of the last line, she hesitated for a breath. Then, her hand drifted to a blank section of stone a short distance below the poetry. Her hand started again, tracing new shapes in the blank face. In response, new letters carved themselves into the surface. Slowly, a response to the grief in the old poetry took shape

The letters were Greek in shape, and the words were themselves ancient. It took James a moment to find the old language in his memory. Kira had stepped back from the stone by the time the translation formed itself in his thoughts.

"Someone will remember us
I say
Even in another time"

“You will join us for dinner, I hope?”

James was almost startled at her sudden words. The silence had taken almost a sacred texture, and Kira pierced through that solemnity with no warning. “Oh. I could, if you’d like.”

Kira smiled almost impishly. She showed a spark of her usual self, but deep in her eyes, in a place he assumed few could see, he noticed the lingering grief newly buried under her mask. She would not say it, but he could see she was ready to leave. Needed to, maybe.

“I would. And I know you want more time to spend on the girls.” She took up the stroller and turned back towards the Rathskellar and towards RhyDin beyond that. She switched to Common English. “I am certain the others will be happy to have your company as well. I believe Lucien found some old texts he wanted to show you.”

James stole one last glance at the epitaph before stepping to catch up with Kira. “In that case, how can I refuse?” He was already reaching into his coat pocket for a cigarette, though it wouldn't be lit until they'd left.