Threads of Fate

Epilogue

    Gentle mist caressed his face, wiping away every pain and sorrow that had weighted his soul before, though he could not now recall why. Cool water rippled beneath his dry feet like an eternally winding river of liquid glass. But to where that river led, he could not see.

    A thin veil surrounded him like a delicate web of gossamer, keeping him from moving anywhere but here. Above him was a clear sky painted in hues of coral, aqua, and amethyst, like the dawn bathing the world in its morning light, and yet he could still see some stars twinkling.

    A perfect balance, maintained by the goddess who had first ordained the dusk and dawn. He lifted his hand and observed its strange translucence. Or perhaps that was only an illusion, caused by the golden light that radiated from him.

    That was strange, he thought, as he'd never expected his innermost being to hold such brilliance. He had expected his soul to be stained black. His attention was caught by the water once more before he could further contemplate the light.

    More ripples were approaching him from beyond the gossamer veil. Someone was coming. It was a steady gait, strong and regal, but commanding at the same time. He knew who had come even before the mist and veil parted.

    His soul sang in recognition at the figure who emerged, though he could not yet see her features through the luster that surrounded her. It faded as she drew closer, the water beneath her boots turning to gold with her every step.

    Her body was covered in the full armor of a warrior, and a scythe was sheathed at her back. Ebony hair fell down her spine in one long braid, similar to his own, and her equally black eyes glittered with wisdom and determination. Her dark face was more beautiful and powerful than he'd ever seen, even in life, and as she came to tower before him, he fell to his knees and bowed his face at her feet.

    Durga's heavy palm rested on the back of his head, and he watched as his translucent body became flesh once more. Memories flooded him then, and Talarion drew a few shallow breaths. This was it.

    The righteous goddess of warriors, keeper of the dead, and judge of souls, had come to measure him. This was not the Eternal Haven. Not yet. Here his eternal fate would be decided, whether he could enter, or whether he would flung down to Hel.

    "The Harbingers who bore you claim your soul was heavy and burdened," she spoke. Even her accented voice rang with might, and static darted down his spine. "You have done many dark and terrible things, Talarion Lochren. You have taken many lives, each one leaving a stain upon your soul and a weight in your measure."

    He closed his eyes, still bowed at her feet. She would condemn him. He'd always known he would be condemned. But she had to let him at least see his mate, one last time. He could still feel their bond within his chest, but something was keeping it smothered. It was no longer icy and empty, but it wasn't as it had been either.

    "But you are not a wicked male," Durga added, her tone a touch lighter now. "You have been courageous as well, and loyal to those you loved. You have been a defender, and you have suffered greatly in life. Each stain you bear is shared by another, and they are weighted more heavily upon him, for he was the one who ordered you to take those lives, at the risk of losing your sister's."

    His sister. Tissaia. Her face flashed before his eyes as he'd last seen it. Grief-stricken and tearful, but alive and safe. Yes, he'd taken those lives to keep hers safe. He'd always done whatever it took to keep her safe.

    "And you avenged many of those lives, as well as the life of your mate, in taking your father's and your own." Talarion raised his head then, unable to fight the tightening of his chest or the tears that beaded in his eyes. Durga drew her hand away. "But punishment is owed, and atonement demanded."