Chapter Text
15 years ago if this day had come, they would have told you that they knew it was going to happen.
Now? Garroth is rattled, staring back at the same exact faces that disappeared into that forest 15 years ago. They hadn’t aged a day, and it didn’t make any sense.
“Garroth.” Aphmau breathed, her eyes widening. “You look…different. Zoey, she…I mean she said it had been…but wow.”
“15 years does a lot to a person, Aphmau.” He replied, staring at her like she was going to disappear.
“You stayed.” She pointed out, “I thought for sure when Zoey said…everyone would be gone.”
Garroth glanced at the gate behind him, up at Kyle, standing guard. He exhaled and looked back at her, "Phoenix Drop isn’t what it once was. Laurance and I learned quickly we couldn’t preserve it in its original form. Some people left, but new ones arrived.”
Aphmau blinked, as if trying to take in the idea that Phoenix Drop wasn’t the same. Beside her Dante’s eye flicked over the wall, much larger than it once was. He could see the moment they noticed the new rooftops over the wall, the thrum of a city functioning inside.
“Scaleswind helped rebuild, as promised. But after that we struggled, the first winter I thought everyone would starve. It was after that first winter we realized we had to move on, for the sake of the people that stayed.” Garroth explained, watching the group’s reaction carefully. “We started reaching out, rebuilding alliances, establishing trade routes. Soon enough we weren’t just maintaining, we were growing.”
Aphmau’s throat bobbed as she swallowed. “Growing,” she echoed softly, like she had never imagined the world applying without her guiding it.
Garroth continued, steady but distant. “Eventually, we couldn’t grow enough food, the farms weren’t enough. Laurance and I spent two years negotiating and establishing outside grain shipments—Bright Port and Meteli mostly. In return, we offered security. Strongholds, trained fighters.”
Dante whistled lowly, but his eyebrows remained raised in shock. “You turned Phoenix drop into a trade hub?”
Garroth shook his head. “Not intentionally, but we needed supplies. Once caravans felt safe to travel here, more people came. Families, Craftsmen, Healers.” His eyes flicked up to the wall again. “We had to expand the walls twice. The last one was four years ago, people were living outside them. It wasn’t safe.”
Aphmau stared at him, “Four years ago,” she said, like that baffled her. “You…expanded the walls.”
“We had to.” Garroth explained, “What used to be the outskirts of Phoenix Drop is part of the city now. There are districts. Markets. A proper guard rotation. A sister guard academy to the one in Bright Port. We tried to—”
“Dad!”
Garroth’s words died instantly.
He turned towards the gates as Malachi jogged towards him—tall broad shouldered, a sword strapped to his back the way Garroth used to carry his. Sunlight caught in his dark hair, the same hair Aphmau used to smooth back when he was a toddler.
“Dad, what’s going on? Alexis came to get Papa, he sent…” Malachi slowed to a stop in front of Garroth, his eyes landing on the group behind them.
“Malachi..?” Aphmau whispered, her eyes filling with tears.
“...Mom?”
The word was barely a breath, but it hit like a stone dropped into still water. Garroth always forgot Malachi was so much older than he seemed, that he remembered Aphmau, in a way his brother didn’t.
“Malachi.” Aphmau murmured again, surging forward and gathering Malachi into her arms.
The sound that tore out of Malachi was raw—relief, grief, disbelief all knotted together—it broke Garroth’s heart. Malachi had stopped hoping years ago. Garroth had seen it.
Garroth stepped away, giving them the illusion of privacy with a dozen eyes watching.
“That’s Malachi?” Dante murmured, “He’s so…big.”
“We celebrated his 23rd birthday—adjusted of couse—about a month ago.” Garroth said quietly.
“He called you Dad.” Katelyn pointed out bluntly.
Aphmau pulled back from Malachi, blinking hard as she turned toward Garroth. Malachi wiped his eyes roughly.
“I–I’ll go tell…Papa.” He muttered before dashing off back into the city.
Aphmau watched Malachi run off, tears streaming freely down her face. “Garroth…”
“Someone had to raise them,” Garroth said defensively, his shoulders tense. His tone is sharper than intended. “Zoey couldn’t do it on her own. So we helped, picked up where you left off Aphmau. Let Zoey continue to do what she did before, babysit. But the day-to-day, that became ours.”
Aphmau said nothing, jaw tight.
“You and…?” Dante pressed.
Garroth inhaled slowly and let the truth fall out with a sigh, “Laurance. We raised Levin and Malachi like our own.”
Aphmau’s lips parted, but no words came out—not disbelief, not anger, not acceptance. Just silence, heavy and trembling.
Garroth kept his gaze forward, towards the gate. “We didn’t plan it. We didn’t expect anything. But the boys need stability. Someone to wake up in the middle of the night when Levin had nightmares. Someone to sit with Malachi when he got sick. Someone to teach them, protect them, love them.”
His voice grew quieter.
“And we did. We do, with all our hearts.”