If you like music while you're reading, try "Into the Sea (It's Gonna Be Ok)" by Tasha Layton. It's the PERFECT soundtrack to the rest of the chapters here! (Thank you, reader Raichyl / PBMamaRae for the suggestion!)

*****

RETH

Reth opened his eyes to find the beautiful, clear blue sky arching high overhead, fluffy clouds chasing each other in a light breeze that also rustled leaves in nearby trees.

He blinked.

One deep breath revealed that he was not in WildWood. This place was beautiful and the air crisply clean, but the scents were wrong. Though he recognized certain trees and flowers, there was… more. Something that made him smile.

Sitting up quickly, he looked around. The sun was low in the sky, slowly dropping towards distant, unfamiliar mountains that were turned purple by the late afternoon sun. He'd been laying on a bed of lush grass. Behind him the shadows of unfamiliar trees stretched towards him, their branches thick and green with the kind of growth that told him spring was becoming summer.

Crickets were beginning to sing—and joined by trilling birds whose delightful songs were so varied, he couldn't pick them out.

He inhaled deeply again and smiled, finally understanding where he was.

This place smelled amazing.

"You made it." The deep voice, rich and strong, so warm it made Reth's chest expand, was easily heard over the rush of the breeze, and the wildlife song.

Reth jumped to his feet and whirled.

A male—he looked human—stood a few feet away, his eyes bright and welcoming, smile lines framing his mouth. His beard and hair were thick and shining like Reth's had been when he was young, and yet the man carried with him the weight and wisdom of age. He wore long robes of the most luxurious silk—yet they were light, fluttering in the slightest breeze. He had a sash over his shoulder that seemed spun from pure gold. And there was fire in his eyes. The kind of fire that made Reth utterly certain that he never, ever wanted to be the enemy of this man.

The man's face was unlined, yet heavy with maturity. He defied any age. He moved nimbly as he stepped forward, his smile growing.

Reth's entire being responded to His presence, and with a cry of joy, he dropped to his knee, clasping one arm to his chest and dropping his head low—the humblest form of submission save crawling on his belly…

Reth blew out a breath and began to drop, but the man rushed forward, laughing.

"No! No! Stand up! Stand up! You made it. And I'm so glad you're finally here." He threw his arms around Reth's shoulders, pulling him into the tightest embrace, one hand clutching the back of Reth's neck, trembling with emotion. "You were so good. So faithful. Well done, my Son. Very, very well done."

Reth clung to the man, his chest swelling with gratitude and joy, his body shivering with pure satisfaction. As if the words fed his soul.

When they pulled apart, just far enough to meet eyes, Reth's mouth dropped open and he clung to the man's arms. He should have been crying—the thrill that fizzed in his chest was so complete, he should have been weeping in a ball. Yet all he felt was sheer joy.

"You're here," Reth breathed. "Creator, you're here?!"

The man put a hand to his jaw and leaned down, beaming, to hold his gaze. "No, Reth… You're here. Finally. Now we never have to be parted again."

*****

As the sun slowly dipped towards the horizon, turning the sky every blazing color of the rainbow, Reth walked alongside the Creator on a dirt path that wound through the grasses and towards a distant forest that squatted on the foothills of the mountains.

Everywhere he turned he saw beauty. Everything he touched was vibrant and… healthy.

They passed a small grove of orange trees, and Reth reached up to pick one, Tearing it open he found the fruit inside thick and juicy, and so wonderfully sweet.

"Good choice," the Creator chuckled, holding out a hand to receive a piece, then popping it into his mouth. "They've always been one of my favorites."

Reth strode alongside him, unaccustomed to feeling small next to anyone, yet he was reminded of the days of his childhood, before the war, when he and his father had time to hunt and adventure. When there were no royal duties pressing, but his father was the biggest, strongest male alive.

Reth had never felt safer, or happier. Never more content.

He looked down at his hands and his body and shook his head. He still looked like himself but… healthier. His skin the burnished bronze of time spent in the sun. His hair dark and shining.

And nothing ached, he thought with a chuckle.

"Try it out, I think you'll like it," the Creator said with a smug smile.

"Try… my body?"

"Test it. See what you think."

Reth looked at him a moment, then shrugged and started to run.

The following minutes were the most fun he'd had in years—leaping boulders, running up tree trunks to grasp the tall branches and swing from them with only one hand. His chest never ached, his heart never jumped. No matter how he pressed, he never grew tired. His muscles never began that warning sting that the edge of his strength was approaching.

He let go of the tree he was hanging from to land on the grass next to the Creator, then sprinted forward, running as fast as his legs could carry him. "I can't wait for Behryn to arrive!" he called over his shoulder. "I'll finally be able to beat him!"

"I wouldn't bet on it," the Creator laughed. "My noble son is gifted. When he finds his way here he will still be himself, only better—and he was made to be enough to keep you humble."

"Behryn's coming!?" Reth slid to a halt, turning to find the Creator, still walking calmly, yet directly behind him.

The Creator came to a stop next to him, his eyes calm and warm, and he smiled.

"Not just Behryn," he said, his voice low and conspiratorial as if they shared a secret.

Reth's new, strong heart leaped in his chest.

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