CoS45

## Chapter 45

SPOILER WARNING*Selestra foresaw that the page "CoS45" may include spoilers about a number of topics covered on Alexandra Christo Verse, She warns you to proceed with caution.*
**Chapter 45** is the final chapter of **City of Spells** and the end of the story started with **Into the Crooked Place**. It ends where the story began, following **Tavia**.

## **About**

### **Characters**

* **Tavia Syn**
* **Wesley Thornton Walcott**

## **Full Version**

THE CROOK STILL STOOD, and aside from a few scrapes and bruises to the old clock tower, it looked as beautiful as ever.

“You’ll miss the train,” Wesley said, half-joking. “I think the next one to Volo is coming soon.”

He strolled over to her, and though Tavia didn’t turn to see him, she felt the moment he was by her side. Wesley made the air around him charged, both with magic and something else that Tavia couldn’t explain, but that she could feel in her very bones.

“You’re going to need a reopening party for this place,” Tavia said. “If you’re finished saving the world, that is.”

“There’s a lot to take care of now that I’m a big hero,” Wesley said. “Including throwing some great parties.”

Tavia all but snorted. “A few free shots and some bottles of Cloverye and people will be lining up around the corner again. A place for the hopeless to lift their spirits.”

“I hope so,” Wesley said. “It’s strange to have this place so empty.”

She felt it too.

The streets weren’t bustling or electrified by the laughter and wonder of tourists, and the Crook wasn’t thumping with music and magic tricks. It felt like the heart of the city had wilted somewhat, but Tavia knew that it would flower again.

Creije had always been a place for the dreamers, where the lost were found and the lonely realized the world could be a comforting place. That in a city that didn’t close its eyes or turn off its lights, there really wasn’t a place to feel like you were on your own.

It wasn’t just a city, it was a family.

A family of wanderers looking to find their next adventure.

There was no way that Creije wouldn’t return to its former glory, especially with Tavia and Wesley there to fight for it.

“So,” Wesley said. “Volo. When are we going?”

*We.*

Tavia hadn’t known that such a small word could feel so big. So wonderful.

“Volo was always the plan,” she said.

She couldn’t help but enjoy the way Wesley sighed at the words. The last thing he wanted to do was leave Creije, but it had been Tavia’s wish, for too many years to remember. She had spent endless nights dreaming of the day she’d see the paper lanterns during the celebration of the Lonely Goddess’s sacrifice. She wished for the chance to walk down the streets her mother had as a child and find a home there, and perhaps a family, too. That was all she had ever wanted: a place to belong with people she loved and who would love her back without agenda or motive.

What a shame it had taken her so many years to realize that she didn’t need to travel across the realms to find something she already had.

Everything Tavia needed and everything she wanted was right here in Uskhanya.

In Creije.

“But I think the trip will have to wait,” she said.

“The trip,” Wesley repeated.

He cleared his throat and she could feel the nerves radiating off of him.

Wesley was never nervous.

At least, he never showed that he was.

This new vulnerability, or inability to pull his facade properly over his face, was rather endearing.

“Wasn’t it supposed to be the final destination where you laid down your roots?” he asked. “I was readying for a life of commuting between realms. Long-distance *delg* bats or something.”

“You want me to leave all this?” Tavia spread her arms wide. “Not a chance. My family in Volo can wait.”

She turned to face him.

His suit didn’t quite fit right. Borrowed, probably, since his stash in Creije had been destroyed and the tailors weren’t yet open again. There was a scuff mark on the tie that was decidedly *un-*Wesley, but underneath it all were the tattoos and the scars. The calloused skin and the eyes that bored into her soul, even on the days where she tried to convince herself that she hated him.

Truth be told, Tavia had never once hated Wesley.

Truth be told, she could not remember a time when she didn’t love him.

“It’s the family that I have right here that needs me,” she said.

Wesley raised an eyebrow. “What about traveling the realms?”

Tavia smiled. “There will be plenty of time to do that after we help rebuild them.”

She took Wesley’s hand in hers. Skin against skin. Scars against scars. They had grown up together and though there were many years behind them, she knew there were so many more in front of them now.

She looked at their hands, so precariously entwined.

Tavia didn’t have the words to tell Wesley what she felt for him in that moment, and so she simply kissed him instead. Soft, brief, his lips warm against hers and their hands never once breaking apart.

She pulled slowly away from him, savoring each breath.

“One day I’ll explore Volo and anywhere else my heart takes me,” she said. “But I won’t be away from home for too long.”

They had so many memories to come and so much magic left to craft. They would rebuild their city—their home—and cast charms into the air and tricks onto the streets, reveling in the wonder that it brought.

They would light up the realms together, one adventure at a time.

Tavia pressed her forehead to Wesley’s. “Can’t have you getting into trouble while I’m gone.”

She felt him laugh against her. “People keep saying that,” Wesley said. “But trouble is fun.”

“I know.”

Tavia pulled away so she could see the full glory of his smile.

“That’s why I’m staying,” she said. “You can’t have all the fun without me.”

*The End*