Even In The Grave, All Is Not Lost

The Weight of Prayers

Luna's eyes hadn't left the sea for the entire length of their boat ride. Not even when Murphy tripped and nearly went sailing over the edge - in Raven's defense, she hadn't actually meant to trip him, she lay the blame for that entirely on the universe, which seemed to hate Murphy almost as much as she did.

Still, Luna didn't take her eyes off the water.

Raven caught occasional murmurs from her lips, too low to make out clearly and, even if she had been speaking at an audible volume, Raven knew she wouldn't be able to make heads or tales of the Trigedasleng.

She'd never bothered to learn. Had never really been all that interested in anything to do with Grounder culture, or Grounders in general. She was beginning to regret that.

"What's she saying?" Raven asked Nyko, after her curiosity had gotten the better of her. He'd been Luna's shadow ever since they'd shown up at Arcadia's gates and, like Raven, had been watching her closely for the length of the boat trip, though he'd granted her some distance early on, which Luna seemed appreciative of. To be fair to Nyko, everyone had been watching Luna closely - he was just the only one doing so without any hint of suspicion or urgency.

Raven had noticed that some of the others looked at Luna like a piece of meat, or the prophesied holy grail - which was, at best, uncomfortable and, at worst, dehumanizing.

She knew Luna had noticed, had seen her shift beneath the stares, something like irritation in her eyes that bordered on reproach. Raven pretended she didn't see the building desperation there, like an animal that was aware they'd been trapped and that their chances of dashing to freedom were growing smaller and smaller by the second; soon they'd be withered down to nothing.

The point was: there was none of that in Nyko's eyes.

Only concern.

He might just be the only one on this damn boat who remembered Luna was an actual person - and one who'd just lost everything to boot.

Even Raven couldn't attest to that.

Her prayers were riding on Luna just as surely as everyone else's.

But she hadn't forgotten Adria, either. Or the others.

No matter how much she'd have liked to.

"It's a prayer for the dead," Nyko said, keeping his voice low. His gaze didn't leave Luna, though she had determinedly turned away from them, refusing to acknowledge the boat's other passengers. She looked almost ready to jump into the sea and make a swim for it.

Raven wouldn't blame her, but her body was poised to spring forward nonetheless. To stop her.

"Something native to Floukru, I think," he continued. "I haven't heard it pass the lips of any other clan. But I've heard it far too often in this last week."

Raven remembered grimly that Nyko had been present for much of Floukru's demise, whilst she had just played audience to the final act.

She could also recall the body bags back at Arcadia, the ones they'd set on fire. Nyko's suggestion, though Luna had possessed final say.

There'd been no large body of water to send them off into but cremation was a tradition for many Grounder clans, apparently, and everyone from Floukru had belonged to at least one of them at some point. A compromise.

Given this, the sea seemed almost to be mocking them with its presence now. If they'd come here sooner, those bodies might have been able to have had a proper send-off, one they'd earned.

But that hadn't been feasible. They'd needed to wait for Luna to heal before making the journey, and they'd also needed to prepare better, make sure things wouldn't fall apart back at Arcadia if they left it for a short time (ever a possibility).