Epilogue Part 3: Silvia and Rose’s Reconciliation

Epilogue Part 3: Silvia and Rose's Reconciliation

A Meeting Long Overdue

The messenger arrived at dawn, bringing a letter that Silvia had been waiting for far longer than she cared to admit. She sat at the edge of the bed, turning the parchment over in her hands, her heart hammering against her ribs. The seal was familiar, the symbol of her family's crest imprinted in deep crimson wax.

Dragon sat beside her, rubbing slow circles into her back. "Are you going to open it?"

Silvia exhaled sharply. "I don't know. Part of me wants to throw it into the fire."

His golden eyes softened. "And the other part?"

She swallowed, feeling the weight of the letter pressing down on her. "Wants to see her again."

For months, her twin sister Rose had been training in the warrior ranks, searching for purpose after the choices their family had made. They hadn't spoken since Silvia had been forced into the lottery—since she had been cast into the line of danger in Rose's place. The guilt had consumed her sister, and now, at last, she had reached out.

She broke the seal with trembling hands.

Silvia,

I don't deserve forgiveness, and I don't expect it. But if there is any part of you that still wishes to see me, I will be at the cliffs by nightfall.

Rose.

Silvia read the letter twice before setting it aside. She knew what she had to do.

Dragon, watching her closely, spoke softly. "She's reaching out. That has to mean something."

Silvia sighed, running her fingers through her hair. "I know. But what if I don't like what she has to say? What if she's just here to make herself feel better?"

"Then you'll know." Dragon took her hand, squeezing it gently. "But you're stronger than this. You don't need to carry this wound forever."

Silvia nodded slowly, but the weight of old pain still clung to her. She had spent years learning to fight. Learning to lead. But facing her sister was a battle of a different kind.

Rose's Perspective: Preparing for the Meeting

Rose paced the edge of the cliffs, gripping the hilt of the sword at her side. She had imagined this moment a hundred times over the past year, but nothing had prepared her for the way her stomach churned in anticipation.

Would Silvia even show? Would she listen?

Her twin had every reason to turn away, every reason to hate her. The last words they had spoken to each other had been laced with betrayal. Rose had spent sleepless nights replaying that moment—Silvia's face as their parents had sent her away, the unspoken accusation in her eyes.

She had been a coward. And now, she was here to fix it.

The cliffs stretched out before her, the wind rustling through her short-cropped hair. She had cut it after enlisting, stripping away any remnants of the soft life she had once lived. Now, she was a warrior. Not out of duty, but because she had needed to become strong enough to face this moment.

The sun dipped lower. It was nearly time.

The Cliffs of Reckoning

Silvia walked toward the meeting point, each step heavy with uncertainty. The cliffs had once been a battleground, the place where she and Dragon had forged their bond beneath the open sky. Now, they stood as a reminder of all she had lost and gained. The wind carried the scent of the sea, crisp and cool, as she made her way to her sister.

Rose was already there, her posture stiff, her hands clenched at her sides. She had changed—her once-soft features hardened by training, her body lean and strong from battle. But her eyes, the same piercing blue as Silvia's, were haunted.

Silvia stopped a few feet away. "You came."

Rose swallowed hard. "I wasn't sure if you would."

A beat of silence stretched between them. Then, Rose spoke again, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know how to fix this."

Silvia folded her arms. "Maybe you don't have to. Maybe we start from here."

Rose's breath hitched. "I should have fought harder. I should have said no when they forced you into that lottery. I should have—"

Silvia cut her off. "And I should have hated you for it. But I don't."

Her twin's gaze flickered with uncertainty. "Why not?"

"Because I survived. Because I became something stronger. And because holding onto anger will only keep us apart." Silvia stepped forward, looking her sister in the eye. "I want my sister back, Rose. If you want that too, then let's stop looking at the past and start building something new."

A sharp intake of breath. Then, before Silvia could react, Rose pulled her into a fierce, bone-crushing hug.

Silvia's throat tightened, her arms wrapping around her sister just as tightly.

It was over.

And it was a beginning.

A Symbol of Reconciliation

Rose pulled back slightly, hesitating before reaching into her satchel. "I brought something for you."

Silvia frowned as Rose pulled out a small pendant, a delicate silver chain with a firestone embedded in the center. It was their mother's. The one she had always intended to pass down to them.

Silvia hesitated, memories rushing back. "I thought this was lost."

"I took it the night you left." Rose swallowed, shame flickering across her face. "I thought… maybe I'd earn the right to wear it. But I never did. And I think… I think it was always meant to be yours."

Silvia took the pendant, the cool metal resting against her palm. She met Rose's gaze, then with a quiet smile, placed it around her neck.

A silent understanding passed between them.

A New Bond Forged

The two of them sat on the edge of the cliffs, watching the waves crash below. They spoke for hours, about everything and nothing—about their childhood, about their new lives, about the things they had both been too afraid to say before.

By the time the stars had begun to appear, Silvia turned to Rose with a soft smile. "You should come back. Not just to visit. To stay."

Rose hesitated. "Are you sure? After everything?"

"I'm sure. There's a place for you here. Always."

Rose exhaled, the tension in her shoulders easing. "Then I'd like that."

Silvia reached over, squeezing her hand. "Then welcome home."

And with that, their bond was reforged—not as the sisters they had been, but as the women they had become.