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“I think you should have used the Wraith.”

Lily’s tone sharpened. “That makes no difference. It’s all the same whether I use the Wraith or the spear. It still dies.”

He shot her an equally angered look then stomped out of the river, heading for the forest. Lily watched and waited, making sure he didn’t wander far. When she was sure she was sensing him, she went back to fishing, only catching one more before a wave of guilt over the task hit her.

Luka returned when she was in the middle of lighting a fire. Plodding up to her and keeping his eyes low, he thrust a flower with white petals in her face.

“Use the Wraith,” he commanded.

Lily laughed at the amount of times she’d heard that very phrase, now from a Hazevale of all people. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t take orders from you.”

“I want you to do it.”

Lily glared at him, patience waning fast as the prideful confidence he displayed for Neir showed itself. “I don’t.”

“Why!”

Her cheeks flooded with heat. “You kill it.”

Luka winced.

“I mean it,” she urged, voice loud. “Show me! I know you can.” She was on her feet now, leaning over him like a thunderstorm threatening a downpour. He met her with an equally menacing stare, but he broke first. His eyes watered as he tossed the flower to the ground and ran in the opposite direction.

A growl left her throat as she returned to the river’s edge to clean and gut the fish with heavy hands, fuming through the chore. All the while, the Wraith played its song, and it did nothing but peak her anger. At some point, she dropped what she was doing—and herself—in a heap.

She had to get rid of him as soon as possible. He was a thorn in her side, doing nothing but reminding her of the soul she carried. She could take him to the border. Somehow, some way, get him across. Lily ran stressed hands over her head.

If only it were that easy.

She leaned over the river to clean her face. Her eyes caught the reflection of the Wraith dancing in her irises. She looked away, the gentle hum of its wisps and whispers begging for a sliver of attention.

“Within the seams of every life beats the will of the gods. It’s a delicate balance that has built and destroyed the realms of Eizreth throughout history. However, it only exists if the Sun’s Pantheon acts, little reaper, and we always do.”

Lily’s gaze wandered to the direction Luka ran as Amalia’s voice echoed through her mind.

Valen’s own blood asked her to come into the light, had witnessed the Wraith, and still Luka pried.

Lily waited in silence for a long time before she scooped up the flower with gentle fingers and crept through the trees. She found Luka curled up at the base of one, laying in the grass, hand underneath his head. He didn’t move or look at her when she sat across from him.

“I shouldn’t have told you to kill.” She sighed. “That’s not your responsibility.” He flicked a piece of grass, saying nothing. Lily twirled the flower between her fingers, cocking her head to the sky for something to say—anything that would manifest as a coherent thought. “Did you know that a long time ago the Wraith and the Guardian used to be friends?”

His gaze wandered to her, then away. Lily’s solemn posture lifted a little. How much did he know about Eizreth’s foundation?

“It’s what I’ve heard, anyway,” she continued. “The Primordials came from Erebria, finding our planet dry and barren. They worked together to shape the land, push trees from the earth, and mold shapes that became animals. They basked in their world for a time, and while they found it beautiful, it was empty. They split their energy further to birth life as a reflection of themselves. The Flares are light and dark. Dawn and Dusk.”

Luka stilled. “My soul is a Primordial?”

“A part of it. Your soul was born from the Dawn: Ettan, like the Allay and the Vulpes. Mine is from Dusk: Dabria—”

“Like the Gnaw and the Serpent,” Luka finished.

The beginnings of a smile shifted her cheeks. “The Flares work together like Ettan and Dabria did in order to fill the land with souls. The Guardian taught the Wraith about life, and the Wraith taught the Guardian about its end.”

“I have heard that,” he muttered. “Mama said the Wraith didn’t want to be friends anymore, and that it tried to kill the emperor.”