Reluctantly, Kira took the cloak from Pallas, holding it between her thumb and forefinger like it might bite.
With Pallas, you never knew.
He watched her with a tiny smirk on his face as if he found her actions adorable. "I suggest you keep the hood up. The Phoenix is rather famous around here."
Kira's snarl was silent as he sauntered back into the ship.
Alone, Kira scrutinized the cloth. Except for the fur lining the hood and edges, it looked average. The color a deep green that could be mistaken for black at a distance or in dim light.
Considering that night had already fallen, she'd blend in nicely.
Finding nothing that might pose her harm, Kira settled the cloak over her shoulders. The bottom brushed the tops of her boots.
"It looks good on you," Graydon said, joining her.
Seeing her fiddling with the cloak strings, he moved forward to take over. "Let me."
Kira dropped her hands, letting him help despite being able to do it herself. The worry crouched in the back of his eyes held her back. A distress she wished she could ease.
"Being back here feels strange." Kira lifted her gaze to the sky and the moon whose scars were visible even from the planet's surface. "Last time I visited this solar system, I left a permanent mark."
How many people could claim that?
Graydon's fingertips brushed her collarbone as his movements slowed.
"This place has featured in my dreams for so long that the very name of the planet brings forth a flood of emotion. I've relived that battle so many times that every moment of it is burned into my memory. All except the one moment that counts."
Kira liked the fact that Graydon didn't offer her banal words of sympathy. He didn't say that there was nothing she could have done. That remembering wasn't important. Everything she'd been told again and again. Instead, he listened. His silence allowing her the freedom to examine her feelings without the pressure of judgment.
"I don't remember giving the order for the explosion. I don't remember what came afterward."
And that bothered her. It had always bothered her.
"They were so important to me." Kira glanced up at the stars. "The least I could do was remember their final moments."
Graydon reached for her hand, squeezing it in comfort. "Trauma can affect memory. Your brain's way of blunting the pain of loss."
"That's what all the doctors Himoto found for me said as well."
Her mind's way of protecting her, they claimed.
Kira nodded at the sky. "They're still up there, you know. No one recovered the bodies."
They'd never even tried. Centcom had other worries after the battle. Salvaging their dead from the debris field during the height of a war wasn't among them.
Kira glanced at Graydon. "Do the Tuann bury their dead?"
"It varies by House. For Roake, if there are remains recovered, they inter them to the sea."
Somehow that didn't surprise Kira greatly. They'd built their fortress on a cliff overlooking the ocean. She didn't think that happened by accident. The fact they were the custodians of the lu-ong's spawning ground might also have something to do with that.
"The thing all Tuann have in common are their places of remembrance. For instance, the hall of heroes in House Roake."
Kira nodded, remembering the names written on fabric and plastered over a wall in their training facility. Some of those had been faded beyond recognition. While for others, the ink was still legible.
"For the Tuann, it's the memories we leave behind rather than what happens to our physical remains that we find meaning in," Graydon continued. "On rare occasions, such as when an event leaves a deep scar on the entirety of our race, an etheiri will form. It acts as a repository for our memories, allowing us to revisit important moments. It's the Mea'Ave's way of mourning with us. When the grief fades, the etheiri's form changes. We never forget, but the pain does lessen."
Kira had seen an etheiri on Ta Sa'Riel. The crystalline forest that had formed from the woven memories of those who'd tasted loss during the Sorrowing had been beautiful, if tragic.
