Rising Tides | 2

25 | E m b e r

—

There is no such thing as a funeral in Auchterton. Instead, the provinces celebrate the life of the deceased in parades. The body of the deceased is burned by the family at the beginning of the celebration as a way for the soul to rest in Diadona. The streets then become decked with colorful streamers and flowers. Citizens dress in bright pinks, yellows, and oranges accompanied by intricate and colorful paint on their skin. The parades can last for days. Music and traditional dances are performed. There are feasts that last for hours at a time. The parades are meant to be happy and uplifting, a reminder to celebrate life.

When the war ended, there were parades all over the mainland. I tried to attend as many as possible to pay my respects to those we had lost in the Battle of the Barren Isles. I spent days traveling across the mainland in search of any parade I could find. It saddened me that I didn't know most of the people who had died. We lived in the same compound for months, yet I didn't recognize any of their names.

When it came time for Bear's celebration of life in his home village in Morchester, it was hard for me to stay upbeat. I blamed myself for his death. It had been my fault. Sometimes I wondered if my arrogance was the reason he died. If the attention I received made me feel as if I were more important than those fighting beside me. It made me wonder what people thought of me.

Bear's celebration of life was smaller than some of the others I'd been to. My friends were all there. General Hatis attended the ceremony as well. Bear had no family left to burn his body, so I was chosen to do it. Setting his coffin on fire was one of the hardest things I'd ever done.

The ceremony was beautiful. The colors of the decorations and clothing people wore reflected across the waters. We sent his burning coffin through Morchester's canals on a gondola. The boat was filled with flowers and gifts from rebels that would accompany Bear through the gates of Diadona.

It took two weeks to celebrate those whose lives had been lost over the years in combat against the Crown. They rest in peace now. There was no parade or celebration for any of the Crown's soldiers who passed. In the eyes of the citizens, they were just as bad as demons.

It struck me one day that Hunter had not been one of the surviving Guard members from the beach. A strange feeling had filled my stomach at the thought of never seeing him again. I couldn't tell if it was relief or remorse. Or maybe both.

A part of me wanted to visit his family, to see his brothers and his mother again, to cry on the floor with them. The other part of me wanted to hate him for dragging me into this mess. If I had never met him, Tyler would be safe, we could both be at home, and I could be normal again.

But then I thought about the other side of things. I never would have met Wren. My life would be boring and repetitive. Oremis would have found another earthly host to create a bond with. There would be no ker to stop him. He would have destroyed everything. We would all be dead.

After the Battle of the Barren Isles, Libria was stripped of rebel supplies. People gathered all of their belongings and headed back to the mainland. Some had houses to go home to. Others had nothing. Their abandoned homes had been sold to new owners or torn down to build something in their places.

General Hatis had made quite a scene when he and the other officers strolled through Porthmore with Maddox in tow. He was compliant with the chains and guards that surrounded him. Back on Libria, Maddox had gotten to see his mother for the first time in eight years. I assumed the reunion went well because he held his head high and smiled as he was dragged through the capitol.