I lift my gaze to the soul stars. What was it the ashina said at the initiation ceremony?“The shining soul stars are there to remind us of the presence of light, even in the midst of darkness.”There is something to it, as if the sheer wonder of it all should be enough to live for, but I’m not sure if it’s enough. Seniia once pointed out that humans are afraid of death, but life scares me more than the thought of death ever has. Life is painful. Death, on the other hand, sounds like a release from the weight of the world, a silent, peaceful embrace.
Would it be Aster who met me if I jumped? I let out a huff. I will never be rid of him, will I? Cursed god of death. Why do I feel as if Aster is the only person who truly sees me? It’s as if he can look through all my masks and see me at my core. I hardly know him, yet I never feel as seen as I do in his presence. It makes no sense.
I kick my heels against the stone wall. Thiswhole lifemakes no sense. I kick harder, the pain a welcome distraction from my inner turmoil. I have more than I could ever have dreamed of, yet I keep feeling worse. Am I doomed to live with this darkness forever?
The thought sends a fresh wave of nausea through me, causing the knot of anxiety in my gut to churn. It’s as if I’m trapped in a maze, but instead ofnearing the end, I’m traveling deeper and deeper into an entangled darkness from which I’ll never escape.
Leaning forward, I rest my forearms on my knees and stare down into the darkness. Aster doesn’t help either. His presence intensifies the longing and loss already tearing at me, a painful addition to my fractured state. That he is a god, utterly beyond my human life, only compounds my misery.
A pair of long legs slide down next to me. Soft powder-pink hair tickles my jaw as Seniia rests her head on my shoulder and wraps an arm around my waist. She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t have to. Her presence is enough.
“Is it because of Aster?” Her voice is soft. “I must admit, I didn’t know humans could attach themselves in such a way—I’ve never seen it before.” She sighs. “For a Rean, there are few things more painful than an unrequited mating bond, and I can only assume it’s the same for humans.” She gives my shoulder a squeeze.
I stare at her in bewilderment. What is she talking about? “No,” I say. “He’s got nothing to do with it.”
“Nothing” may be a strong exaggeration, but he for sure is not the main cause.
“Are you sure? Your reaction the other night—”
“I’m sure.” I cut her off before she gets more into detail about that embarrassing behavior.
She glances over the edge. “You were going to jump, weren’t you? I could sense it.” There’s a deep sorrow in her blue-green eyes. “Why, Laïna? What are you holding back?” Her eyes turn pleading. “Share with me.”
Avoiding her gaze, I stare down into the darkness instead. What does she know of suffering? She is beautiful, Rean, powerful, and always so happy.
She squeezes my shoulder. “I can’t say I’ve experienced what you have, Laïna, but I’ve known darkness.” She pulls her skirt aside,revealing an array of scars on her inner thighs. “But I’ve known enough emotional pain to recognize it when I see it.”
I lift my gaze to meet hers.
“Want to be brave?” she says. “Be vulnerable. There’s no courage without vulnerability. Most importantly, you don’t have to carry it all by yourself, Laïna. You arenotalone.”
My shoulders slump. “I don’t know if I can,” I whisper.
“I’ll go first,” she says. “Perhaps that’ll make it easier.” She shakes her head. “Because, gods, do I know how it hurts to be alone with your pain.” Lifting her hands, she holds my gaze. “Can I?”
“Can you what?”
She tilts her head. “Share my memory?”
I have no idea what she’s up to, but I nod. I trust her.
She holds my head and brings my forehead to touch hers. There’s a dizzying moment when my perception flips. Then I’m inside her head, seeing the world through her eyes, feeling what she feels.
I’m kneeling on a stone floor, holding the hand of a young Rean who looks so similar to Seniia, they must be sisters. Except this one is frail. Her bony hand feels featherlight in mine. “Four more years,” I hear myself say. “I’m already one of the best healers at the temple. Once I come into my power, I will be able to heal you, I swear.”
The young female shakes her head. “You should be living your life, Seniia. Not spending every minute by my bed.”
“Youaremy life, Deliia,” Seniia whispers.
“Seniia, look at me. You know what it means when a high priestess births twins. You represent life, I death. I am meant to die, and you are the sole reason I’ve made it to my seventeenth moon.” Deliia squeezes my hand with what little strength she possesses.
I blink, and when I open my eyes again, I’m staring down at a dead body, tears streaming down my cheeks. The location is different, so this must be a moment later in time. Clutching the dead body, I shake, a mix of shame and guilt blending with the grief.
“Why didn’t I see how much pain you were in?” My voice is hoarse, as if I’ve been screaming. Leaning back from the corpse, I wipe my tears. “I was selfish, wasn’t I? Keeping you alive just becauseIcouldn’t live withoutyou.” My gaze moves to the small brown bottle, uncorked, lying on Deliia’s nightstand. It’s empty, and I know that Deliia deliberately overdosed on her pain medication. The same medicationIprovided for her.
I blink. I’m empty. Exhausted. Ignoring the pain, I work night and day and barely sleep. I have one goal in mind, and it is to become the best healer the world has ever known. I feel an array of emotions: guilt for being alive, powerlessness to protect those I love, shame for not being a strong-enough healer. I also feel anger toward the other healers for not doing enough. Toward my mother for not caring enough.
“No one will die on my watch ever again,” I swear between gritted teeth.
