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Raine yawned and stretched, bleary-eyed in the sputtering candlelight. A profound darkness had fallen outside, and a silence so absolute, unlike any night the rough-and-tumble city of Latissa had ever known. It was only broken by the steady onward march of the tireless pilgrims, determined not to miss the day of unity.
At the very least, Raine envied their zealous enthusiasm. Ill at ease in their heart in mind, their stress was the only thing that kept them awake long after most of the others retired. They poured over the plans they would present to the rebels the next morning, wracking their brain for some other solution.
They couldn’t help but feel immensely guilty for what they were about to ask Eda to do.
A deep, throbbing headache began to set in behind their eyes. Having wasted the better part of the evening obsessing over things they couldn’t change, they packed away the plans in defeat. They were suddenly very aware of the stiffness in their joints as they stood from the floor, only adding insult to injury as muscles and bone refused to cooperate. How were they ever going to make this work?
Their gaze swept over the sleeping rebels, immediately drawn to the bunk that Eda and the kids had commandeered. When Raine hadn’t been fretting, they watched her in fascination as she worked. This was a new side to her that they’d never thought they would see, despite knowing that she had it in her: caring, encouraging; Titan, even patient, under certain conditions. In short, a mother, guiding one of her children through an important life milestone while the other slept in her lap, clutching the ratty old doll she’d fought so hard to retrieve for him.
Eda the Owl Lady was nothing if not full of surprises.
She was already asleep when they approached the alcove, hanging off the edge of the bottom, while the kids took up positions on either side of her, sleeping soundly enough. Eda, on the other hand, looked anything but, a small grimace on her face as her head twitched, fighting her own private hell, no doubt. She had wrapped a protective arm around Luz, tightening her grasp ever so slightly, and the human’s head lolled gently against her shoulder. Earlier, they’d seen her tuck Luz in, draping the thin blanket over her sleeping form and brushing stray wood chips out of her hair. Her other hand rested gently against King’s back, mid-stroke. She’d made sure to set the new palisman in a safe place where it wouldn’t be disturbed, before passing out beside her weary wards. The carving knife had fallen from her hand onto the floor.
Raine leaned against the bed rails, smiling in spite of their apathy. After a moment’s hesitation, they grabbed the blanket from the top bunk and laid it over Eda as gently as they could without waking her. She had always been so cold, they remembered, from long bygone days, when they were younger and in love. They wanted so badly to hold her close, to keep her warm, to…to…
They gnawed on their bottom lip, brushing the thought away. That door was closed, they’d thrown away the key, and the future was so uncertain they didn’t think it was worth trying to look for it again. Even then, they still couldn’t help but smile, as Eda settled deeper under the covers, the worried lines smoothing incrementally from her face.
“Ehem.”
Raine flinched and spun around at the sound of someone clearing their throat right behind them. Adrenaline speared through them, slicing the thin bubble of peace that had finally begun to form. They moved so quickly that they nearly collided with Lilith, who stood only a couple feet away, a mildly perturbed look on her face.
“O-oh, Lily,” they sputtered, an overwrought tremor in their voice. “What…what brings you here?” Ugh, stupid, they scolded themself, why else would she be here?
“Whispers.” She replied with little enthusiasm. Intimidating. “We need to talk.”
She gestured to an empty corner of the room, as private as they could get in the small storeroom-turned-rebel-hideout, all but dragging them along behind her. They had no choice but to follow. She didn’t get to become head of the emperor’s coven for nothing, they presumed, so commanding—or rather, domineering—was her demeanor. Her expression was stern but otherwise unreadable as she stood aside, waiting until Raine seated themself against the wall before she did the same.
Awkward silence descended between them. It seemed she hadn’t prepared to get this far. Growing irritated, Raine contemplated which half-assed excuse they could come up with to get out of this, but curiosity kept them in their place.
Then, Lilith seemed to gather her thoughts, her face a mask of steely determination, though they hadn’t the slightest clue why.
“As you may know, my reputation is…less than ideal,” she began, surprising them. “I’ve done many things that I’m not proud of.”
They’d been thinking this was about them, and perhaps it still was, but it didn’t seem like pointing out her own shortcomings was a good way to get her point across. She looked at them intently for some kind of response, and when they had none to offer but a questioning glare, she continued.
Lilith sighed. “A lot of those things revolved around Edalyn: recruiting her into the Emperor’s coven, healing her curse—”
“Right, the curse you gave her,” Raine interrupted, unable to help it. When they’d first heard the truth, it made so much awful sense in hindsight that they weren’t sure how anyone failed to see it. It was a hard thing to forgive. “And when you weren’t trying to help her, you were trying to throw her in the Conformatorium.”
She faltered in her little speech. “Regrettably, yes, I did what I did for what I thought was her own good, and I’ve done everything I could to make amends.” She stroked the stark white streak in her hair for emphasis. “That she has allowed me back into her life is far more than I could have hoped for…but that isn’t what I wanted to talk about!” She waved away the current conversation. “I have something that may hold some value to you.”
“Oh?”
“Months ago, in one of my final attempts to capture Edalyn, we were caught at a bit of an impasse,” she said, rummaging through her pocket as she spoke. “She gave me this so I would leave her alone for the time being; a trophy, of sorts, so I didn’t have to go back to the emperor empty-handed.”
She held out her palm. A small object gleamed in her palm, its smooth, golden surface immediately catching their eye.
Raine was at a loss for words.
Lilith cleared her throat uncomfortably. “My assumption is correct, I presume?”
Raine sucked in a lungful of air, suddenly realizing they’d stopped breathing. They nodded wordlessly and plucking the golden ring from her hand, holding it up to the moonlight that filtered through the shuttered windows.
“I…didn’t know she kept it,” the finally replied, turning the weighty jewelry this way and that. “It’s been so long, I figured she would have sold it or something by now. But it’s not what you think!” They exclaimed as they noticed her quizzical gaze. “We weren’t—I mean, we were together, but not like that! I just—”
“Look, I don’t really get these ‘romantic affairs,’” she interrupted, waving her hands ironically. “I don’t really care to, but clearly you still mean a look to her,” her expression softened, “and I figure she means a lot to you, too.”
They closed their hand over ring protectively, their eyes wandering again to the little alcove, where they could hear Eda snoring soundly all the way across the room. The messy silhouette of her wild made dominating most of the bottom bunk; in the gloom, it resembled giant wings wrapped protectively around her kids. To say that she meant a lot to them was the understatement of the century. The way their heart ached just looking at her could attest to that.
“I love her more than I can even describe,” they sighed, feeling a weight lift ever so slightly from their shoulders at having admitted it out loud. It had been so long.
When they looked back at Lilith, she was already retreating. “Yes, very good. Anyway, do with it what you will. I was tired of carrying the thing around. It’s yours, anyhow,” she rambled, eager to get out of the conversation she started. Raine suppressed a smirk at her awkwardness, not as intimidating as she seemed. Gaining some of her composure, she trained a sober look on them. “Please, just don’t break her heart again. She’s been hurt too many times before.”
She looked away guiltily, the sadness on her face showing that she wasn’t just talking about them.
“I don’t intend to,” Raine replied regretfully. Whether they actually broke her heart again or not remained to be seen. Sometimes, it couldn’t be helped, and other times…well, they never claimed to be perfect. They’d be lying if they said they didn’t regret the way things ended between them before, as necessary as it was.
“Oh, and one more thing,” Lilith continued, suddenly stern and composed once more.
Raine groaned. “What is it this time?”
“Get some sleep,” she ordered, gently this time. “You look terrible.”
They didn’t know whether to laugh or glare at her. Instead, they retorted, “likewise.” She stuck her tongue out at them as she left, showing that she was not so different from her sister, after all.
Raine hauled themself up from the floor soon after she left them, trudging their way to their own cot, flopping down without so much as taking off their boots. Rolling over on their back, they idly examined the ring, thinking of many things. A wild hope began to creep into them, quietly at first and then growing in intensity, hope for a future they’d almost given up on.
Maybe someday, they thought, pressing the ring to their lips once, before tucking it away in their vest pocket. If…when this is all over…someday soon, hopefully…
They smiled as they drifted off to sleep, leaving the thought unfinished. A beacon of light in a sea of uncertainty, they took comfort in the idea that a happy future was possible, however slim the chances. Perhaps this wasn’t the end, but the prelude to a new beginning. There was a time to worry and a time to dream; they chose to save the worrying for tomorrow.