Lyria’s eyes searched the expansive corridor. “It’s an odd place, isn’t it?”
“Not the most common,” I answered, shrugging and continuing to follow the others, “but it’s fitting for what we’re here for, I suppose. It would be interesting to explore it without the pressure of the Angels bearing down on us.”
“The damn Angels,” she swore, shaking her head. I let out a small, relieved laugh at her disgruntled tone. “Do you think spirits really linger here?”
“Truly, I’d never thought about it until Erista said what the purpose of the hall was.” I had always figured we were delivered to the afterlife by the Soulguiders upon our death. Mystique bodies were returned to the earth through the volcano and our spirits rested in the Spirit Realm.
Some felt differently about it. Believed in ways of divine intervention or reincarnation. I supposed they were possible. The idea of my spirit finding Ophelia’s in every life after this one was a thought so right it almost made me convert my beliefs on the spot. But it wasn’t something I truly spent much time considering.
Why worry about an afterlife when we had this one?
But from the way Lyria’s next words rushed out, it was clearshehad contemplated it. “I think the idea of a spirit persisting can be quite romantic or torturous, depending on the person.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“If their life was so full of abundant beauty that they couldn’t bear to leave those they loved behind, even to wait in the Spirit Realm for the day others met them, well that’s quite a romantic view of life, is it not?”
“It is,” I whispered, ambling slowly behind the others.
“But if they’re trapped, if someone is ready to go and is somehow held here for eternal unrest…” She shivered. “I believe that would be one of the worst tragedies that could befall a warrior who has already given their life.”
Her brown eyes flashed up to mine, like looking in a mirror, and every life she saw taken on the mountainous battlefield died again behind them. The deep hues rippled with a pain that sliced through my chest.
“I like to think every spirit will end up where they belong,” I said.
Lyria’s voice was wistful when she answered, “That would be beautiful.”
Damien’s unholy cock, I wanted to rip the haunting memories from my sister. To take those wounds in her stead.
Lyria was too good for it. Or perhaps, none of us were truly good. To simply say someone was nothing butgoodtrivialized the complexities of their spirit.
At her heart, Lyria was so much more than that. She was courageous and clever, but also compassionate and understanding. She, unlike so many commanders, had found a way to balance the two sides.
And because of that, she was carrying this weight of responsibility that was poised to shatter her bones.
“Where do you wish to end up?” I asked.
Lyria shrugged. “Wherever I’m meant to be, I guess.” A heavyI don’t know where that isechoed in the shadows of that sentence. “We can’t really be certain of the purpose of any of this, can we?” Lyria asked as we followed Vale around turn after turn, her reading leading the way.
“Which parts?”
She laughed, invigorated. “Of life. Of every damn day. It all builds to something, I would believe, but—I don’t know. Perhaps it’s because I’m surrounded by the energy of the Soulguiders and their heart of magic, but it feels like being inthisplace serves a purpose.”
“Every decision we make, Ria, contributes to our lives. The small and the large ones, whether they support what the Fates have planned for us or riot against it, it all weaves together. That’s what comprises our stories.”
“Being here, though”—she searched the tunnel, the endless halls branching off it— “makes me consider the point.”
Following the war, Lyria had been concerned with her role, with finding her place after witnessing such tragedy. She thought she was responsible for it, but I wouldn’t agree to that. Lyria was a part of the war, but she wasn’t the war. Just as the lives lost on that battlefield weren’t her. Thank the Angels.
In the shuffle of our boots against marble, I asked, “And what have you decided?”
“I think it’s you, Tolek.” Her eyes darted to mine. “I think we were robbed of so much time in our childhoods that the Spirits and Angels are trying to make up for it.”
My chest hurt at the thought.
Lyria continued, “To be honest, I don’t give an Angel’s ass about these emblems. I’d be thrilled to hand over my title now that the war is over. But we lost enough time thanks to our father. So, I’m here.”
Iwas the purpose for my sister. The sentiment tightened my throat and didn’t quite fit into the disjointed lines of my life.
