Light of the Dawn

24. All is Found

"Do you think we'll ever be okay again?" Eris's voice was soft, almost fragile, as if he feared that the question itself might shatter something already broken between them.

Isarella's shoulders rose and fell with a sigh, the weight of her pain pressing down on her chest. She hesitated, her voice trembling as she spoke. "I...I don't know, Eris. Every time I close my eyes, I see it all again. The screams, the fire, the blood..." Her breath hitched, and she looked away. "I should've died."

Her words hung in the air, heavy and raw, slicing through the silence. Eris clenched his jaw, his head tilting back as he stared at the cracked ceiling, his fists curling at his sides. "You didn't deserve any of that, Isa. None of it. You deserve to live." His voice cracked on the last word, as though he were trying to convince not just her but himself.

Isarella turned her gaze to him, her eyes wide, but no words came. The raw emotion in his voice stunned her. She studied the lines of exhaustion etched into his face, the unshed tears glistening in his eyes. When he finally looked at her, his vulnerability was almost too much to bear.

"Is it..." he began, his voice faltering. He cleared his throat, his Adam's apple bobbing as he forced the words out. "Would it be okay if you sang that song? The one you used to sing. I just... I need to remember that you're alive. That you're real." His eyes were brimming with tears now, one slipping free and trailing down his cheek.

Her throat tightened, and she swallowed hard, nodding. He had seen it all—every dark, unspeakable moment. He had been there, by her side, carrying her pain as if it were his own. She would do anything to show him how much that meant to her. Even if it meant singing the song that carried the ghosts of her past.

She closed her eyes and drew in a shaky breath, her voice quivering as she began. "Where the north wind meets the sea, there's a river full of memory..." Her voice broke, but she pushed through, her heart aching with every word. "Sleep, my darling, safe and sound, for in this river all is found..."

As she sang, images of her mother swirled in her mind—a mother she had never known but who had sung this song to her in the womb. The mother who died bringing her into the world. She saw her father's face too, his strong voice singing the same lullaby to her as a child, before he was taken from her in the most brutal way imaginable.

Her voice faltered again, tears streaming down her cheeks, but she kept going. "In her waters deep and true, lie the answers and a path for you. Dive deep into her sound, but not too far or you'll be drowned..."

Eris was silent beside her, his shoulders shaking as he fought to hold back his own sobs. The song wrapped around them both, its haunting melody weaving through their shared pain, binding them together.

"Yes, she will sing to those who'll hear, and in her song, all magic flows. But can you brave what you most fear? Can you face what the river knows?"

Her voice cracked on the last verse, her body trembling as she whispered the final words. "Where the north wind meets the sea, there's a mother full of memory. Come, my darling, homeward bound. When all is lost, all is found."

When the last note faded, Isarella wiped her tears with trembling fingers and glanced at Eris. He was still staring at the ceiling, tears streaking his face, glistening in the dim light. His lips parted, and he whispered, "Thank you."

She didn't reply, her voice too broken to form words. Instead, she leaned her head against his shoulder, the warmth of his presence anchoring her as they sat together in the quiet. In their shared silence, they bore their pain, not alone, but together.

—

Azriel stood on the other side of the heavy oak door, frozen in place, his shadows curling tightly around him as if they could shield him from the sound. His mate's voice drifted through the crack, soft and haunting, each note heavy with grief. Isarella sang in that iron box of torment, her voice a fragile thread carrying her heartbreak into the silent hall. The weight of it shattered Azriel's already fractured heart. He pressed his palm to the wood, his jaw clenched so tightly it ached. He didn't know the full extent of what had happened to her under Beron's hands, but this-this sound-was enough.