Threads of Fate

Chapter 73 ~ To Ashes We Become

    They remained in Lochren for days, though not in that hated manor. Azael made sure Tissaia spent as little time there as possible, even though it couldn't be avoided altogether. There were explanations to be given to the counselors, and that was where those answers would be found.

    Even while Tissaia and Kahari were still healing his wounds, Azael had asked Gaelen to send word of the Lord and Lady of Lochren's deaths to Arcan. It was the court's right to know, and he knew it was likely they would wish to arrange the mourning services themselves.

    They were surprised when Gaelen's messenger returned to them early, having met several of the counselors already on their way to Lochren. The messenger reported that they had been summoned by Roshan days before, and within two days time, the counselors had arrived. Azael and Tissaia had been the ones to greet them, and he knew the shocking sight of them had jarred the counselors more than they wished to admit.

    After all, his arm was still broken. Kahari and Tissaia had chosen to splint it and let it heal as naturally as possible as it had been a very simple break, and by the time they were done healing his other wounds and tending to the Cahirim, they had both been drained of magic and energy.

    The counselors' astonishment had only grown when they took them to where the bodies of the fallen were being prepared for burial. Lady Astara had been arrayed alongside the fallen Cahirim and Lochren warriors, but Talarion had been placed in another room as Tissaia wished to prepare him herself. One other person had been missing, which the counselors didn't fail to point out.

    Lord Roshan Lochren's body was nowhere to be found. It had disappeared from the room he'd died in, and no one could recall seeing anyone moving it. Azael had been afraid that somehow, the male was not dead, or his corpse had been claimed for some vile purpose, but Tissaia was the one to set his and the others' minds at ease.

    She had pointed out that many of her father's most devoted warriors had been seen beyond the city limits, supposedly burying something. She surmised that they did not wish for their Lord to receive any disrespect in death, so they had buried him themselves and left the grave unmarked.

    Azael hadn't missed the halfness of her words, but it appeased the counselors, and none of them demanded a search for the body. Lady Astara had been laid to rest the following day in the Lochren family tomb, with proper burials for all of the fallen warriors following her. Talarion's service would be the last one, and by sunset, Azael found himself behind Lochren Manor, observing a pyre like the one they had made for Kaius.

•༻☽☾༺•

    Tissaia gazed down at her brother's pale face one final time, her throat bobbing with smothering emotion. Somehow, this felt like it was happening too soon, and yet she knew she'd put it off long enough.

    She had taken her time making her brother presentable. Washing the blood from his skin and hair. Neatly braiding his dark locks as he'd usually done. Cleaning, mending, and dressing him in the leather suit he had always been the most comfortable in.

    Now he lay before her, just like Kaius had, waiting to be turned to ash. Her lip trembled as she slipped his cold, stiff hand into her own and squeezed it. She didn't want to watch him burn, but she knew he wouldn't have wanted it any other way. He wouldn't want his body laid to rest in the place he had hated. Apart from those he had loved.

    She touched a kiss to his knuckles, then let his hand rest atop the other one laid across his stomach. Tears burned beneath her lashes and Tissaia closed her eyes, though she couldn't prevent them from falling.

    "I hope you're with him now," she whispered. "And that both of you are happy. You deserve to be happy, Talarion. Even if..." she broke off with a choked sob, "even if it can't be here, with me." Her tears fell harder but she pursed her lips against further sobs, aware of the eyes watching her.