She decided she liked Lionel very much.
“What happens to the ones you can’t save? Are there no prayers or burial rites here in Elkron?” He was a descendant of Nedos, after all. If anyone would lay a body to rest, she figured it would be Lionel.
He arched a brow as he organized a few other texts on his desk. “You’re thinking about Agatha.” His tone grew somber with her name.
“Yes. No one has talked about her... Is that how it is here?” Helaina barely knew her. It just seemed so strange to carry on without pause when they lost one of their own.
“Have you not seen it?” he asked.
“Seen what?”
“Come.” Lionel exited swiftly, allowing Helaina to follow.
They didn’t have to go far. He directed her to a small carved staircase that led downward. When they came to the base, Helaina beheld a room of beautiful light. Thousands upon thousands of candles of various shapes and sizes covered every wall and every piece of the floor, some accompanied by flowers, letters, or clothing.
“What is this?”
“A place to remember.”
Realization hit her. “Every one of these is...”
“Theo enchants the wax; they can never be extinguished. As long as these lights burn, we never forget our own.” He pointed to a honey-colored candle near her boot. Next to it, a gleaming chest plate, engraved with a sigil of a great axe—a symbol of Ures.
“You cannot blame the living for moving forward as they do here. We remember them in our own way.”
She reached down, placing a palm on the cool iron, remembering the girl who owed her nothing, yet gave her rest and a hot meal. Such a simple, yet unforgettable kindness.
“Thank you, Lionel, for all you do here. For what you did for me.”
He gave a gracious bow of his head. “Good day, Helaina.” He went back the way they came, leaving her crouched down before the eternal flames.
CHAPTERFORTY-SEVEN
The following morning, sunlight, mist, and the smell of morning dew on grass flooded Helaina’s senses as they had every morning she stepped outside. The path in the light of day was breathtaking. Frost-colored peaks stretched up toward the clouds. Forests of sage- and ocher-stained trees, some of them with trunks as thick as the watchtower, shaded her path. Some days, this place looked identical to how she imagined the ether. That realm so far in the heavens where souls went to their eternal rest.
She lazily let one of her hands brush over the tall grass as she proceeded down the dirt road. The crisp breeze dusted her cheek. She would have loved to trot down this path with Elsie. To gallop through these mountains together.
Elsie.
No, her mind wouldn’t go there today. It made her chest constrict.
A twig snapped to her left.
She jolted her neck to see what was coming for her.
Two golden does grazed near the tree line. She rested her fingers atop her lips, watching them quietly. It was nice to know not every creature out here wanted to eat her. She lingered to watch them, marveling at their gilded fur for a while, then followed the distant grunts and clanging metal.
The training valley looked so much bigger during the day, nestled between several smaller peaks. Some soldiers ran sprints around a large gravel track, some wrestled one another. Most were practicing with weapons—throwing knives aimed at hand-drawn symbols on trees. Archers nocked arrows into thick wooden bows, aiming so far in the distance she couldn’t make out the targets.
She was heading toward the track to begin her own morning run, but she stopped.
There he was, in the distance, shirtless and gleaming in sweat. A large gulp stretched down her throat.
Theodon Wrenn.
Her insides turned to fire. She didn’t expect such a visceral reaction to seeing him for the first time since his bedroom.
She approached as he was about to walk out to a chalk-outlined circle with an opponent she didn’t recognize, a male who looked all too excited for her to interrupt.
