Father smiled softly, wiping Finnian’s wet cheeks with the back of his finger. “My dear boy, death is a part of life. Do not pity those who step into its Land, nor the ones they leave behind.”
“But—but death is separation,” Finnian sobbed, hugging the fish to his chest. “Separation is pain. It is how I feel when we are not together.”
Father stared at him, eyes glistening. “Death is peace, Finnian, and pain is simply a sign of love’s presence.”
The memory melted away.
In its place, an ethereal cloud, a white cosmos, wrapped around him. He was standing now, surrounded by the bright, plush landscape.
He glanced down at his hands, his legs, and ran his fingers through his short hair to confirm he was his present self.
When he looked up, Father was before him.
His eyes widened and something shattered in his chest. A lump swelled in his throat. He snapped forward, throwing his arms around Father’s neck.
“I am so sorry.” He cried into the shoulder of his father’s robe, hanging on to him. “I always mess up. It seems impossible for me to do the right thing. In the end, all I ever do is hurt those closest to me. You, Naia, Cassian. Everything I did to right my wrongs was for nothing. Ruelle is going to kill me.”
Father broke away, wrapping one hand around his nape. With a genuine smile, he studied Finnian. “Do you know why I gave Wren to your sister?”
“To aid her in time of need,” he sniveled.
Father gave a breathy laugh, bringing both hands up to cradle Finnian’s face. “She assumed it was because I believed her to be weak. I assured her that nobody, not even High Deities, can do everything alone.”
He pulled Finnian into a hug. “My boy, you are strong and have made up for your wrongs. I was never disappointed in you. Forgive yourself. Stop trying to do everything on your own.”
Finnian rested his weight on him, sobbing into his shoulder. He could feel the magic around them coming undone. The solid figure of Father under his arms softened and began disappearing like mist. “Please. Don’t go. Not yet.”
“I am always with you.” Father turned his head and kissed Finnian on the side of his hair. “Eternally.”
His father’s voice carried like a leaf caught in a breeze, swirling, dancing, fading.
Finnian gradually drifted from the moment, like stepping out of a dream.
“Finnian!”
The Land’s sky stretched out before him, its lavender-soaked clouds hazy and quickly covered by Ruelle as she came to loom over his side.
Tears slipped from the corners of his eyes, trailing down his temples. An ache stretched into what felt like a crater taking shape in his chest.
He wanted to go back. So much so, that for a fraction of a second, the thought crossed his mind to give up, let Ruelle kill him. Because then, he could return to Father.
“Finnian!” Cassian yelled from somewhere afar.
His sonorous voice split through the ache, through the desolate thought of death.
Finnian sucked in a breath to respond, but the thread constricted around his throat, assaulting his tendons.
Ruelle did not acknowledge Cassian’s shouting as she held up the syringe, readied in her grip. “I sincerely apologize for this.”
Bullshit.
He narrowed his eyes on her, his heart thudding in his chest.
Stop trying to do everything on your own.
After a lifetime of stubbornness and isolation, Finnian finally understood his father’s words.
A smirk slit across his mouth, baring blood-stained teeth.
