Most of the bodies are lit on hastily built funeral pyres that line the southern shores of the island, by the sea battalion. It seems the most fitting for fallen soldiers, but the warriors of Polemistés prefer to be buried unburned, with their armor and their swords intact, and so the island is split.
Still, I make sure each and every soldier, no matter their birthplace, is given the same respect in the afterlife so they might find their River of Memory.
Each and every one of them is buried as an equal.
My mother’s funeral is the only one that differs in custom. I lay her on a raft of daisies and forget-me-nots, her hands threaded together.
Lucian said that used to be the custom for witches in Thavma.
I think my mother would like it.
I think it will give her some kind of peace.
I cry as she’s lowered into the earth and the soil cascades over her face like a current of fresh water. I’m not sure if it’s for my mother or for me. For the last witch of the Six Isles.
I cry for days, eyes red and swollen, and it’s only when Irenya reminds me of my mother’s stories about Asclepina and the afterlife that waits for all witches, where Eldara is probably waiting too, that my tears still.
If those stories are true, then I hope our goddess welcomes my mother with open arms and that she finds forgiveness in her.
As for Seryth, forgiveness isn’t an option.
His body is thrown to the water, far out in the depths of the Endless Sea, where it sinks straight to the bottom in a heap of nothingness. To be forgotten and lost to the wilds.
“All set?” Nox asks.
I nod as Lucian loads the last of our cases aboard Leo’s butterfly.
We were offered a ship to make our way back to Vasiliádes, with Micah’s body and the bodies of any Last Army soldiers who had family back home. But the butterfly brought us here and I think it’s only right it’s what carries us back across the Endless Sea.
It’s the only thing I trust for this journey.
“Is no a good answer?” I say to Nox. “I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready for all that’s to come.”
I was relieved when most of the Last Army that we captured from Seryth’s attacking fleets agreed to join us willingly, grateful for the killing to finally be over and to not have to be snatched away to war for a wicked king. But not all of them were willing.
Nearly eighty refused to lay down their swords and had to be torn from the ships by force and held in the cells beside the warriors’ training grounds.
I know it’s the way it must be and that it will take people time to shift their loyalties, but still I feel a pang of guilt. A worry that they’re going to start thinking I’m just like Seryth. Just like who my mother became for him.
I fear that when we set sail for Vasiliádes, the soldiers who remained there will feel the same, turning their backs on me, but I know with time I can convince them. It’s part of the reason we’re going back. I want them to know that when we promised a new world, we meant it.
We’re heading to Vasiliádes, not just to return the dead, but to let them know what happened here and to show them my face, no longer locked behind the castle doors. With an entire fleet of Polemistés warriors coming with us, I’m anticipating it being quite the surprise when they learn that their king is dead and a new world is on the horizon.
A new queen.
“Don’t look so worried,” Nox says. “They need a new leader and you’re a lot prettier than the last one.”
“I’m not their leader yet,” I remind him, ignoring that last part. “I haven’t even been coronated and—”
“Relax, princess,” Nox says, his voice soothing my worries a little. “It’s going to be fine.”
“You say that now, but we still have to lead an army, prepare a bunch of stubborn warriors, and persuade some even more stubborn soldiers,” I remind him. “We have to motivate them to want to join hands when they’ve been at war for centuries and unite six islands under magic, when they’ve always been taught to fear witches.”
“Not to mention letting them know there’s no more Festival,” Nox says, pondering this with a frown. “People are going to hate not having an excuse to drink until the early hours of the morning.”
I scowl. “You’re not helping.”
Nox laughs and presses his hand over the top of mine. “I believe in you,” he says, and I know he means it.
Perhaps more than anyone else, Nox has faith that I can unite our world.
“People want change,” he promises me. “They want freedom from tyranny and to live their lives knowing they don’t have to sacrifice their souls so they can wish for medicine for their children, or enough gold to feed themselves for a little longer. You won’t hold their health and their lives to ransom. You’ll rule with kindness,” he says. “And I’ll be right by your side the whole time.”
“Promise?”
Nox squeezes my hand, the feel of his skin warm and rough on mine. I don’t have to ache for it any longer: not just Nox’s touch, but the feel of a hug from Irenya or a clap on the back from Lucian. I can reach out a hand for the world, without worry.
I still have my visions, but they’re easier to command now. I know my powers and I will control them instead of letting them control me.
My magic doesn’t make me scared anymore. It makes me fearless.
“We’ll do this together,” Nox says.
“Together,” I repeat.
It’s all I need.
With Nox by my side and the trust of the greatest warriors in the Six Isles, I feel strong and supported. I don’t doubt myself or let my past plague me with guilt any longer. I know that what I was isn’t important anymore, it’s what I am and what I will do that matters.
Like Nox said, we can’t change the past, but together we can change the future. We can forge a new world, filled with peace and hope, with magic and wonder.
So that’s just what we do. Together.