It took me a moment to realize that the sound of grief had come from me, and I collapsed to my knees in broken sobs, threading my fingers deep into the grass.
My skin was numb, my mind even more so, as Rohak gently helped me to my feet before pressing my head into his chest. He let me sob for long moments, stroking my curls as my hands tremored against his tunic.
“It’s not fair,”I cried down the Bond.
“No. It’s not. War is never fair, my love, yet the fairest of judges all the same. No one—regardless of age, status, or gender—is immune to her choices. Why did you and I survive, yet they did not? Why did some of our more grizzled soldiers or our less powerful Mages emerge unscathed while Ben and Asha paid the ultimate price?”
“They have a daughter,”I whispered before stiffening.“We . . . we have a daughter, now.”
He hummed, pressing a kiss to my head.
“We need to return to her.”
“We will, my love. Let us send Ben and Asha into the beyond first. Then we can go to their daughter. One thing at a time.”
His words settled my soul, the remembrance of their child left behind renewing my purpose.
With a gulp of air, I loosened my white-knuckled grip from Rohak’s tunic, wiping away the tears and snot in embarrassed swipes.
Rohak hummed before capturing my hands with his and pressing a soft kiss to my palms.
“You need to say a few words, my love. You knew them best,” he murmured, stubble scratching at my hands.
I sighed shakily, the residue of my grief clinging powerfully.
Turning slowly, I looked to see more than one stricken expression and red-rimmed eye. A Life Bonded couple I’d Forced Bonded a year ago stood to the side, clutching each other as they wept.
“Ben and Asha—” I began before pausing to clear my throat, my grief building once more. “Ben and Asha wanted nothing more than to be together,” I began, finding my sadness quelling slightly as I spoke about my friends.
“Funny thing was, Ben was mine first,” I laughed a waterything as I pawed at my eyes. A few other hesitant chuckles followed my statement. “But he was never mine, not when he was supposed to be hers. And,gods, did he love her. They were the most perfect pairing. He was a bear on the outside and spun sugar on the inside, someone who melted for the right person yet would do anything to protect his family. They loved hard and were loved just as hard in return. Their memory will live on in their daughter, in all of us that knew them and loved them, in the halls they walked and the lives they touched.”
I paused again to wipe my nose as more tears fell. They were less volatile this time; softer almost, as if speaking aloud to people who knew them, fought with them, was cathartic. I was releasing my grief with my love. Rohak’s hand squeezed my shoulder in comfort, and I closed my hand over his.
“There are not enough words to describe Ben and Asha, and not enough time to tell you how amazing, kind, and loyal they were. They will be sorely missed by so many, but I know that they are in the ether together, and that gives me some comfort,” I finished, rapidly blinking back a fresh wave of tears.
“Can I say something?” the young male Vessel from the Force Bonded couple spoke up, his voice tentatively wavering. His Mage wrapped her arms tighter around his torso, resting her head against his chest.
I nodded.
The Vessel wasn’t much older than the age of Awakening, but battle had hardened him, turning his once-youthful coal-black eyes to something older.
Rohak’s words rang true once more.
“Ben and Asha were the greatest teachers and influences I’ve ever had. I came from nothing, snatched from the streets by King d’Refan to serve in his army before I was . . . forced into a Life Bond I originally didn’t want. Asha and Ben were there for me . . . for us”—he kissed the top of his Mage’s blonde head—“through everything. Sharing wisdom about Bonding and what was normal, helping us through discovering our relationship.” He shook his head. “I would be dead without them—would have killed myself long ago, taking my Mage with me. They shouldered my grief, held my hand as I cried, and refused to leave me until they knew I was going to be okay. I owe them my life and will miss them fiercely every day for the rest of my time on this plane.”
His Mage buried her face further into his chest with a sob, tears tracking down his own cheeks as he turned toward her, folding his body on top of hers.
My heart warmed even as my own grief made itself present once more.
Thatwas Ben and Asha’s legacy, one I would never let die.
Rohak lit their pyre moments later, choosing to do it manually rather than with magic. There was a personal element to his motions, to the way he gently laid his hand on Ben’s chest, then Asha’s, as he bowed his head and whispered words I couldn’t hear.
With one last pat over Ben’s heart, he lit the pyre, the dry wood catching quickly until their bodies were obscured from view completely.
The red and orange flames brightly lit the dark night, washing all of us in their glow and heat. Slowly, soldiers left. Paying their respects briefly before moving away. As the ashes and embers floated upward on a swirling wind toward the glowing moon, I let go of my self-hatred and flagellation.
I would forever miss Ben and Asha—would see them reflected in their daughter every day for the remainder of mine. But no amount of grief and blame would bring them back.
