The Forgotten Crown (2019) Book 1 of The Broken Crown Series

40. Grey World

All of Thor Grind watched as the white swathed body was gently lowered into the cold earth. Weak light filtered through the branches above, casting the company in deep shadow. The whole world seemed to live in the grey spaces.

A chill swept through Letty as she watched the departure of her beloved sister. She cast her own handful of salt as a ward against evil spirits, as did Sirena and Garen and all those who knew her. Black soil rained from above as if wishing to blot out the very memory of the girl within and she felt anger rise up in her. The uncaring earth swallowed Bea whole and she was truly gone. Garen stood before the mound as if he were made of stone, his face lined as if he had aged ten years overnight. His lips formed silent words meant only for her. His grey eyes held such sorrow that she could not bear to look at him any longer.

Sirena's heart broke again and again, her very soul in agony. It was her fault. Her fault that Bea never see Draesia, that she never returned to Garen. No family of her own. No life.

Bitter shame formed a hot lump in her throat. Sirena had one last gift for Bea if only she could find the strength for it. It would never be enough. Bea had believed in her, had believed she could use something as detestable as magic for good. Kneeling gently beside the final resting place of her dear one, she sang quietly. She poured every ounce of love and sorrow into it, watching as her gift took root. "This will not be the end" she whispered. "I will find a way to make it right" Sirena promised. Her hope could not die here; she would not dishonor Bea with defeat. "This world will be something to be proud of again. One day Bea."

Turning to Letty she was shocked when the girl shrugged out of her embrace, hot tears pouring down her cheeks. She would not meet Sirena's gaze. Wandering in the direction of the keep, she even shrugged away Jarsha's consoling advances. Letty's spine was rigid and her shoulders stooped as if the weight of the world lay upon them. Sirena knew she had asked far too much of her friends and one had paid with her life. It was a debt she would never be able to repay.

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The gloom was everywhere; around him, inside him...an angelic voice pierced the air, sorrow so painful in its melody the whole world began to weep. Garen sank to his knees as he watched Sirena. Her voice was haunting and unearthly, he had heard rumors but there were no words capable of describing what he was hearing, what he was feeling. Love and devotion flew from her lips and poured into the ground. She leaned down a moment and whispered into the earth.

The girl placed her hands on Bea's grave and began to sing again. This song spoke of hope and victory and the memory of a girl who would live eternally in their hearts. Then the words stopped and it became sound. Just sound undulating through the air. The very earth seemed to hum and vibrate.

The freshly dug grave trembled and shifted as a vine crawled across the soil and flowered before his eyes. In a matter of seconds Bea's resting place blossomed with hundreds of tiny flowers. Pure white drops like snow. It was the mountain flower known as snowdrop, her favorite.

Sirena stood suddenly and Garen watched as she whispered goodbye and just as suddenly departed, walking deeper into the gardens. Garen gently stroked a snowdrop and watched in wonder as it wrapped itself around his finger like it were a living thing. He pulled his hand away and the snowdrop split from its vine and rolled into his palm, stiffening. Garen stroked it again realizing it had hardened. The flower still swayed in the wind but felt firm as if it were made of living marble. He knew then it would last forever, they all would. Never would these flowers die. Tucking the flower in his pocket, Garen wandered into the shadows searching his soul for a measure of peace.