It was not a smooth escape.
The boy stumbled over the uneven ground littered with twigs and stones. My heart lurched as his bony knees buckled and scraped against the rough earth. Both Kolis and I started toward them and then stopped as the boy shot to his feet and kept running, disappearing behind several larger rocks.
Kolis had grown incredibly still—I didn’t think he even took a breath. And he remained there for several moments. Then, his shoulders slumped ever so slightly, as a weariness settled over him, making him seem older than his years.
How many times had that happened?
Based on the weight he seemed to carry now, I imagined too many to count.
With a heavy sigh, he turned from where the fleeing children had disappeared and slowly started toward the forest. My head cocked, picking up on the faint sound of a haunting melody. As my vision blurred a little, I realized he was humming under his breath.
A hush fell over the forest as he passed the first pine. Suddenly, branches rattled as birds took flight, their wings beating against the air. They flew in a frenzy as if chased bya predator, quickly becoming nothing more than specks on the horizon.
The silence returned as though nature itself held its breath, until a sudden, frantic movement caught my eye. The forest came alive with panicked wildlife. Deer, their elegant bodies tense with alarm, bounded through the underbrush, their white tails flashing as they spilled out of the trees. Rabbits darted across the forest floor in haphazard zigzags, followed by smaller critters. Even the insects rushed from the forest, the air thick with the buzz of their flight.
A cold knot lodged in my chest as I blinked back tears. My eyes weredamp. Shaking my head, I wiped under them with quick, harsh movements. I couldn’t believe that I would feel not just pity, but empathy for Kolis. But I did.
I wasn’t sure what that made me, as my attention fell on the girl’s forgotten basket. It lay on its side, spilling blue and pink wildflowers. The prickling sensation returned, crawling up the nape of my neck. My gaze crept over the poppies as I slowly turned back to the cliff. My mind flashed to the small boy and girl. Their hair. The boy’s words, and her freckles. That basket.Thisplace. The strange familiarity despite it appearing as if it had been conjured from a time long before mine—long before this version of me.
My heart started pounding as I swallowed.
I knew where I was, and I had a sinking feeling that I had been here before it became known as the Cliffs of Sorrow. And I had seenthem. My chest squeezed. Sotoria. Callum.
I no longer wanted to be here. The beauty was gone, now painted with sorrow, loneliness, and the inevitability of death.
I needed to wake up.
I squeezed my eyes shut. The coldness in my chest began to spread, unfurling through my limbs.
Wake up.
Wake up—
“The one thing that Death always wanted…” A voice low and tinged with grief spoke from behind me.
Eyes snapping open, I started to turn but stopped when I realized that there was nothing where the forest had once been. Nothing but darkness. I took a shaky step back.
“Was to not be feared,” the voice said.
A tremor ran through me, and I finally moved, spinning on my heel.
Eythos stood there.
And he had changed.
He still looked ageless, but the youth was now gone from his features. His hair was longer, and his silver eyes were shadowed. Even his voice was different—deeper, heavier.
Eythos’s gaze was fixed on the unrelenting darkness. The look on his face mirrored that of his brother’s: full of anguish and longing. My heart thudded heavily as I saw that shadows had erased the village and were slowly creeping up the hill, the thick tendrils swirling over the wild lilacs and yarrow, snuffing out their life.
“Death seeks solace in the same way any of us does,” Eythos continued as faint streaks of gold gathered in the churning darkness. “Death yearns for a connection, a touch, a single moment not marred by fear or rejection.”
Swallowing hard, I found myself turning my attention back to him.
“Instead, because of the Fates, all he will ever be is a witness. A ghost among the living and the gods, forever wandering, forever alone.”
His gaze searched the darkness as if he could will his brother back into sight. “Maybe,” he murmured as the wind shifted, much colder than it had been before, “if I had realized that in the beginning? Maybe if I had just told him that I saw how hardit was for him.” He shook his head sadly. “All that has come to pass…and what is still yet to come…could’ve been prevented.”
His words hung so heavily between us, laden with several lifetimes of sorrow and regret, that I tore my gaze from the shadows.
