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Nara Millard stood at the edge of the light of the fire tree. She stared out into the surrounding darkness, certain there was something out there. She was less certain about what she had seen. Maybe a hint of a monster. For a heartbeat, she thought the mud creature they had defeated at the end of her last life had followed her to the fire tree.
Maybe all the monsters followed, the cruel and twisted Lord Orman included. Perhaps they all started again at different points in each next life.
The strange fear crept over her skin, that the creatures they defeated had all been at one point the very family she missed. Had she not seen her sister’s face in previous lifetimes because it had become a wendigo hiding in a cave on a barren mountain?
Nara turned back to the comfort of the fire tree. It always seemed to be an ending, each time she arrived at the tree. The loss followed her, each time just as raw as the first, and yet over the lifetimes this had become a sanctuary, a retreat of sorts, where she could regroup and find some comfort from the harsh lives they lived.
Far too often she spent more time alone beneath the fire tree than she did with Haven. She shivered at the thought of leaving him behind with Lord Orman. He had been so determined to have her, and she had no idea what he would do if he managed to capture her. She didn’t want to find out, but there was a suspicion at the back of her mind that one day she would.
She had tried to fight him and, in doing so, had ended her life too soon. Leaving before he could reach her was not her regret—but leaving Haven was. The hard part of living was always leaving Haven. She hoped Lord Orman hadn’t made his life difficult in the time that had followed.
She could still smell the sweet forest she had left. It was such a contrast to the death and decay they had been surrounded by in that life. She had no idea if that was part of the illusion of the Pera or if they had managed to create change.
Did it matter?
Nara sat against the sturdy, gnarled trunk of the fire tree and stared up into its branches. How much closer might Lord Orman be in the next life? Or was it all part of the illusion of the fire tree? She wasn’t confident that she could trust what she saw. The last few lives had convinced her of that. Despite the warmth of the leaves above her and the solidness of the trunk she leaned against, she could not quite believe it was real.
She had no idea when her faith in the surroundings had gone. And for too long, as she watched the flickering flames, she wondered if Haven had even existed or if that too was a torment of her afterlife.
Maybe she hadn’t followed him to another life at all, but imagined one in some strange Hell.