She shook her head.
“Now the trial is over, the high priest has agreed we should set Brighde to rest.”
“He has?” Aloisia glanced between Fynn and Ma.
He nodded. “With the markings still on her body, it is too much of a risk to keep her as she is. Those markings could lure the creatures here.”
“I see.”
“And, I suppose, after everything that has happened, it will be a small comfort to say goodbye. Properly.”
“It would.”
“The priests are setting up the pyre behind the Temple now. Would you help me gather some candles?”
“Of course I will.”
Fynn kissed Ma on the cheek and led Aloisia back to the altar, where many pillar candles were stacked on the floor.
“How does it feel to be free?” she asked, gathering candles in her arms.
“A damn sight better than being locked up.” Fynn piled more candles atop the ones she’d collected. “I had a lot of time to think in my cell, however. There weren’t many good thoughts, in truth, but I kept holding onto what there was to fight for. You, Ma, Brighde’s family. Even Brighde. Giving up, allowing them to twist this into my fault when I knew it wasn’t true, it wasn’t justice.”
“It still doesn’t feel like justice,” Aloisia muttered.
“No, it doesn’t. Still, I have to believe one day it will. One day the truth will be uncovered and then she can truly rest, knowing we have done right by her.”
Aloisia caught his gaze. “It will. I will make sure of it.”
“You have proven well enough that when you put your mind to it, you can move the moon and stars, bend them to your will. And, for that, I thank you, little sister.”
“Well, next time you want the moon and stars moved, at least give me some warning. It’s exhausting.”
Fynn chuckled. “I do not doubt it is.” He indicated to the pile of candles in Aloisia’s arms. “I think we have enough now.”
“Do we? Would you, by chance, be taking any of these yourself?”
“You look like you have it under control.”
“Do I now?” She shook her head. “Lead the way then.”
He barked a laugh and grabbed a few handfuls of them from her, heading towards the southern end of the Temple. They followed the hallways around until they came to a door which led outside. In the Temple grounds, the priests had finished building the pyre, and Brighde had been placed atop it in a white gossamer dress.
Fynn inhaled sharply at the sight of her.
Aloisia dumped the candles on the ground and gripped his arm. “You don’t have to do this, if you’re not ready.”
“We must do this. It would not be fair to keep her here any longer.” He placed the candles beside the others and moved to the pyre.
As before, Brighde had been kept preserved by various ointments, but now her skin seemed wax-like. The markings appeared softer, as if they were fading. Two new runes shone red upon her palms – the same ones Inari had painted upon the priests. Her pale brown hair was gathered in wisps around her face, laced through with white flowers.
Fynn traced Brighde’s face, down her neck, her arm, stopping at her hand. He gently lifted it, sliding her wedding ring from her finger to place it upon his own. Closing a fist around it, as if to ensure it did not fall, he stepped back. With his gaze still upon Brighde, he reached for Aloisia. She took his hand in hers, as if to anchor him.
“Let’s place the candles,” he said.
Aloisia rested her head on his shoulder for a second before releasing him. They set the candles in a circle at the base of the pyre, unlit as was tradition. When the pyre would burn, they would each catch fire. And when the pyre died, the remaining flames would count the eternities she would live in the Celestial City.
As the sun set below the horizon, their families gathered around the pyre to say their goodbyes. High Priest Silas led the service, Tristan at his side with another priest. Aloisia could not focus on the words spoken, of the Divines, of the Mother, of the gates to the Celestial City. They were all things she had heard before, things she did not wish to hear anymore.
