Chapter Text
She wished she had more time.
Perhaps it was greedy, to want such a thing, when she had a thousand years of time to plan and scheme and ponder. But oh, how she wished for it. It was a desire held firmly in her mind as the cold steel of the Cleaner’s knife plunged into her chest, a massive pain blooming from the heart everyone thought could no longer feel.
She made sure to tilt her face toward where she felt Caenis standing, as she gripped the knife, ensuring it stayed in her chest as she took a step back off the platform. She wanted to feel through her weakening threads her reaction to Aglaea’s smile as she fell to her death.
At first, Caenis was confused.
Then cold dread hit her system as she realized that once again, she had played right into the Goldweaver’s hands.
The fall felt longer than it should, certainly taking far longer than the usual elevator ride down. As her unseeing eyes stared upwards, she thought once more of her wish for more time.
Time to find another means of defense for Okhema before her threads vanished.
Time to set up shelters for the upcoming disaster.
Time to find her teachers and give them gentle kisses to their foreheads.
Time to find Cifera and finally drag out what she had done wrong.
Time to encourage Hyacine to take on Aquila.
Time to visit the graves of the Chrysos Heirs already lost.
And time to hold up the great burden for just a little longer so Phainon, her perfect student, her troubled, unsure, and angrier by the day friend, would not have to pick it up just yet.
Alas. No one had ever granted her wishes before.
She crashed into the baths below, the pain of hitting it more intense then the knife in her chest. But soon it was fading away, her consciousness slipping, as she could hear the screams of shock of the citizens around her. Soon all would know of her demise, and soon the ramifications of her loss would be felt by all.
And she could do nothing but twitch her fingers, the last ounce of strength she had fluttered away into a small and unassuming nymph.
She wished she had more time to live.
But instead all she had was the cold divinity of purpose left.
Being pure divinity was a curious experience, although curiosity had been fully scrubbed from whatever she was now. She did not move through the world like a thread on the breeze, but rather she was racing along the lines of existence, pulled across it to hotspots of her domain of beauty. She could be anywhere as long as it was her, and beauty was everywhere.
And lucky for her, where she needed to be was filled with enough beauty she’d never be able to miss it. Chartonus had made so many beautiful pieces of weaponry and metal work that it rested over his shoulders like a blanket. And his soul was beautiful as any as he respected their old promise, beginning to work her into the bracelet as she directed.
A Chrysos Heir he may not be, but certainly as important and as worthy of glory as any of them.
The other she had to reach was also draped in beauty, thanks to never letting go of the garments that Aglaea had made when she was a warmer woman, much more swayed by thieves with hungry bellies. And just like Chartonus, Cifera also had a beautiful soul, one she’d probably deny, but the demigod of beauty knew.
She knew no matter what had torn her dear lovely kitty from her side, she could trust her. She was leaving the protection of Okhema in good hands.
While the divinity that was her did not have much more time before being fully pulled into the bracelet, she would use it to try and do what she could. Speeding along the lines she headed towards Phainon next, knowing he’d need to hear her as well.
But suddenly as if a rug was pulled out from beneath her, there was a tug at her mid section of a body that was no longer alive, and suddenly, so suddenly, she was no longer there.
She was…where?
Her eyes blinked but still she could not see, and she patted her hands around her, trying to find something to tell her where she was. Her threads! She needed her threads to feel but they weren’t coming, and as her hands dug into cool dirt, yanking up flowers she felt panic for a moment-
“Aglaea. Calm down.”
Firm hands gripped her wrists, stopping her desperate digging into the earth and she froze at the touch, trying to place it. It…it had been so long since anyone dared to touch her so forcefully, and even then the one who had the bravery to touch her in such a way had long kept his distance. Shifting in place she sat up straighter, frowning in the direction of the owner of the hands.
“Anaxagoras?”
“Indeed it is,” was the dry response as the hands let go of her. “I’d stop wasting your energy trying to dig out of here. It's not exactly the smartest way of leaving the realm of the dead.”
The realm of the dead. That’s right, she died, she was dead. She touched her chest expecting a knife but was just met with her unmarred skin. She supposed she was thankful for that.
However… “I shouldn’t be here yet. My divinity is still alive.”
“That explains your state.”
“My state?”
“You’ve been here for several hours already. Completely unresponsive.”
She tilted her head. “Explain.”
“I’d mock you for doing something without fully understanding the ramifications of your actions, but I’m certainly not one to talk,” she could hear him shift in front of her, sighing. “A few hours ago, Castorice came in bearing your body upon her massive dragon, like she has with many others who require entry into these lands. However unlike the rest of us, you stayed an empty husk, a body with nothing in it,” she could feel his eyes glancing over her. “You were dead in the land of the dead. Quite the conundrum.”
Mulling over his words, she quickly brushed off her palms, pushing herself into a standing position. She took a deep inhale, smelling the scent of sweet flowers on the wind. “At the moment of death I seperated my divinity from my human body. I did not realize that would mean I’d still end up here…somehow.”
“You’re in a state not quite dissimilar to I was in,” she could hear him stand up as well, the tell tale signs of his clothes whipping about him. “Existing on the edge of the living and death, you’re able to enter and leave this realm as long as your divinity exists in the land of the living. I admit I am jealous, you at least didn’t have an annoying Titan along for that ride.”
“This is rather vexing,” she sighed, snapping a finger at him. “You went back and forth between these realms. How did you send yourself back?”
“I see death hasn’t changed your rudeness,” he scoffed. “I see no reason to answer you.”
“I need to speak with Phainon before I lose the ability to. If you won’t help me, where is Castorice, she may be able to direct me,” she turned as if she could see, feeling still out of her element without her threads able to guide her.
“Considering how she was before she left you with me? I don’t think that's a good idea. Leave the girl alone,” a hand was placed at her elbow, gently guiding her to what she found to be a more even path. “You’ve made her shed enough tears today.”
She faltered a little, putting a hand to her head. She hadn’t considered how her death would affect the girl, especially considering she’d have to ferry her across the river in an unresponsive state. Her poor Castorice.
Although… “Why did Castorice leave me with you? I believe we both taught her better than to do a thing like that.”
“Trust me, I didn’t want this role any more than you,” he sneered. “But unfortunately, I believe I was simply the last best choice. Most of the inhabitants' sense of self washes away too quickly to be of use, it seems us with golden blood are able to hold on better than the rest. And I believe she wanted to keep the truth from Trianne for a little bit longer.”
She had to admit, with those facts, Anaxa was the best person to keep watch over her then. Even without Castorice knowing that Aglaea and Anaxa had come to respectful understanding in the last moments of his life, the gentle girl certainly knew that despite all of their squabbling, there was a trust there born from the same simple want of not seeing all of their existence wiped out by calamity.
Reaching for his hand on her elbow, she removed it, changing their position so she held onto his shoulder instead. “Fine. You still need to tell me how to get back. Like I said, I have things I need to do.”
With a long sigh, she could feel the tips of his hair tickle her fingers as he undoubtedly nodded. “I suppose it will mean I won’t have to put up with your annoying presence if I do. Listen closely I’ll say it only once-”
She never heard the explanation as one moment she was walking and the next she was beauty among the lines of existence.
There was no time to be surprised by the change, and in fact her divinity didn’t even hold that emotion within it. Instead she was back to pure purpose, speeding along her existence.
She could tell there was not much longer till Chartonus finished his work. She wouldn’t get a chance to speak to Phainon, but at least she could ensure her last letter to him would be easily found.
Her awareness as a bracelet was minute, made even smaller as she could feel she was placed inside someone's dark pocket. There were flashes of motion, and feeling the lines of existence sway around to indicate the movements and actions of her carrier.
She could tell that while not just yet, but soon, would the conquering of Aquila begin. The preparations were only just complete it seemed, and no one would waste anymore time.
It was important then, that she stayed within the bracelet as extra support, to be the silent protector from the backlines.
Which is why she felt a rush of frustration as the tug came again and she felt herself laying upon flowers. “Goddammit.”
“Be careful with that kind of language, you don’t want to be scolded by your teachers now.”
If she was the person to do so, she would’ve rolled her eyes at Anaxa. But instead she sat up, picking flower petals out of her hair. “How long have I been gone?”
“A few days at most. Time passes oddly here, I can’t say if it's the same as on the outside.”
That sounded about right from what she felt in her divine little trinket. She wished there were more specifics, to give her a better idea of how soon Hyacine and Phainon would go after Aquila.
She turned her head to where she assumed once again Anaxa was sitting. “Castorice hasn’t come back?”
“She has,” there was a shutting noise, and she felt a ripple of amusement at the idea he somehow found a book in the realm of the dead. “She stayed for a while to see if you may wake up again, but then that Mydei boy of yours appeared to discuss things with her. I believe they moved where it wouldn’t be as such a strain on him being so deep in this realm.”
She tapped her fingers against her lip. So Mydei and Castorice could communicate thanks to Mydei’s immortality. She knew from the Trailblazer that Mydei swam in the River of Souls constantly, but it wasn’t clear if Castorice and him were keeping in touch once the girl took on her role.
It seemed as though they were. And preparing for whatever was coming next.
But she wasn’t in the state to influence or advise the actions of the younger generation anymore, so she simply turned her body more to Anaxa, trying to pick up from sound what he was doing. She heard him shift as well, and she was certain he was staring back into her unseeing eyes. “How bored is the Great Performer to watch over my empty body?”
“Bored as I was watching it when I was alive,” he deadpanned, although she could hear the tilt of his smile in his words. “Although I am thankful you’ve been quiet for once so I don’t have to deal with your sharp tongue. The fact I must speak to you now is immensely painful, you know.”
“Well, you’ve endeared me to continue speaking if it brings you such pain then.”
“Cruel woman. I wish I had been successful in taking out myself and the Titan the first time, it would’ve saved me weeks of your presence in these lands.”
“Blasphemous schemer. If I did not want to disrespect the tranquility of Castorice's realm I would cut out your tongue for your words.”
His laughter pierced through her, and she could see in her imagination how he threw back his head as it shook his frame. She couldn’t help but give a small smile at the sound.
“Ah, Aglaea,” his laughter continued between his words. “What a state the two of us are in. Two dead souls, bickering as we wait for our rebirth in Era Nova. One may mistake us for friends.”
She reached forward, this time the one to grip his wrists, stopping the sound of his laughter at the touch. “Are we not friends? I’ve certainly divested my animosity for you long before your death.”
“Several minutes before I would not consider a long time,” he tried to pull out of her touch, but between the two she was the swordswoman and she didn’t want to let him go.
“Perhaps not long in comparison to my many years, but certainly more than the moments after I let you resonate with my coreflame,” she leaned closer to him, trying to catch the warmth of his presence. “Anaxagoras. You have seen what I am to the finest detail. Would you really deny truth now after a lifetime of stubbornly ripping down the walls of falsehood?”
All she could hear was the sound of his breath, feel him still trying to pull away from her grip. Finally, he spoke. “We are already dead, Aglaea. We’ve run out of time for me to theorize over the lingering scraps of humanity I found in your shell.”
“We are already dead,” she repeated to him. “So why not be greedy unlike the living, and give in to what we see in front of us.”
If their hearts still beat, it would ring out in the silence between them.
“...Aglaea…you are-”
Just like the last time, she was pulled so suddenly without warning. All she felt before her consciousness returned to the land of the living was her body collapsing, caught by hands far more gentler than they had been in years.
The journey through the sky fortress was a long one, taking her heroes many hours to break through barriers and find new routes past rubble. Finally they took a rest in a side room that offered coverage from the ever staring eye of Aquila, admitting they had to rest for a spell to ensure victory.
From her bracelet, her gentle divinity hummed. She was pulled taut, ready to extend what energy she had left in order to assist them in their battles, but she had to be careful. There was no good measurement of how much of her there was left, and while each wound upon her friends and set back sent a reverberation through her being, she needed to let them happen.
To save herself for the moment her action truly mattered.
Which is why once they were safely resting for a few hours, her consciousness easily slipped back into the realm of the dead and as she opened her eyes, she found herself again aware of having a body.
Her head was resting on someone's lap.
“It is not exactly flattering to learn someone loves you simply because you can make them enraged.”
She let out a soft chuckle, which for her would be ringing laughter. “For someone who boasts that the rest of us are dimwitted fools, you certainly are trapped in the same pitfalls of nonsense.”
“I will shove you off my lap.”
“Is that really all you saw of my emotions when you attuned to my coreflame? That I loved you just because you made me angry?”
“...I didn’t have time to think deeper on it.”
She sighed, moving an arm to cover her face. Death was supposed to be peaceful, and yet…
She pushed herself out of his lap, and he did not stop her as she stood up, taking a few steps to let the wind wash over her. She held out her arms to it, closing her unseeing eyes as the scent of flowers filled her being.
At some point she wished she’d be awake when Castorice was around. She wanted her to bring her to Trianne, to share with the girl how she was right, it was truly beautiful at the end of the west wind.
She ignored the crunch of steps from behind her. There was no reason to point out how he followed her closely, whatever he wanted to say would come pouring out like everything else he ever said.
“I asked Castorice if I could meet my sister.”
She opened her eyes, turning her body slightly to acknowledge she was listening.
“We both knew that she would be nothing more than a shade. It's been so long since she had passed, and no gold ran through her veins. But still, Castorice brought her to me.”
“...how was she?”
“As expected. A shade with no memory of her life or her name, ready to be reborn in a better world,” there was a brush against her shoulder as he stood next to her, looking out at a horizon she couldn’t see. “And yet when I held her, hugged her as tight as I could like I was a little boy, she still hugged me back. She had no idea who I was, and yet she still loved her brother enough that she could kiss my tears away.”
There was a fear, if she made a move now, she would break whatever encouraged him to share with her this incredibly personal moment.
“To me, that is what love is. Something that persists despite everything, despite decay and loss and grief. It is not,” he struggled with his words, trying to explain himself in a way that a woman like her would understand. “It is not your glee in the fact I could entice some sort of feeling from your withering humanity.”
They stood there, shoulder to shoulder as she mulled over his words. She did not want to answer him with flimsy explanations and blunt insistence. He deserved like anyone did who was in love, to have a proper answer.
Finally she spoke. “When we first met, much of my humanity was in decline, certainly nowhere close to what it became, but definitely showing signs of wear. I can remember how angry you made me at your flippant remarks that could cause rebellion, how enrapturing it felt to feel your whole being light up as you unraveled a mystery of the universe. I still hold close the few moments I felt safe in your embrace, when I could just be a woman and not the Goldweaver, protector of Okhema.”
She took in a breath. “And then of course, the little bit of joy we held for one another ended. Our ideologies took us far too apart to stand together, our schemes required us to be on different ends of the stage. And my humanity declined further, an ongoing spiral. I…I grieved, for the woman I once was,” she closed her eyes. “Very little stirred me, and everyday I had to remind myself of what I once felt. I had to be gentle to my teachers when they caused trouble because I cared for them. I had to feel affection for Cifera despite her pranks because I cherished her. I had to show them I still did love them,” she sighed. “And I knew that everytime I took too long to smile, when my suggestions were too harsh, that they could see through my cracks that I could no longer be the same woman who once loved them openly. I knew they doubted if I loved them at all.”
It was hard, saying this. Death had returned some of her humanity, but that did not mean she was adept at sharing feelings again. Her hand had wandered up to her neck, nails pressed into her skin as if she was digging into her vocal chords to keep them speaking.
“And then after a long period, we saw each other again. What we argued about in retrospect was trivial, it meant nothing in the greater scheme, but you infuriated me,” she let out a rough laugh. “And I didn’t realize how much you did till after you left, taking the feeling with you. It was probably the most intense thing I had felt for…awhile.”
“I suppose you’re welcome for that,” his voice was unreadable, speaking up for the first time since she began her monologue.
“I broke one of my favorite teacups after talking to you.”
“You’re extra welcome then.”
“I began noticing it more and more, that I actually could feel when I was around you. Yes, it was still muffled by my degradation, but it was more than I could ever hope for. I suppose part of me looked forward to our verbal spars,” she tilted her head in his direction. “Made me keep you tied up in Okhema a few times more than you deserved.”
“I knew you were just doing it for your amusement,” he scoffed. “And may I point out, whatever point you are getting to is not refuting my statement of you only loving me because I could make you feel anger.”
“It wasn’t just anger.”
“That's not what I saw.”
“We did not have enough time,” she pursed her lips, firm in her words. “You admitted there was no time to properly theorize about what you saw in my soul. You did not see everything.”
“What could I have possibly missed? It was a sea of anger, our many interactions together Aglaea.”
“A pebble would be hard to spot in the sea, Anaxagoras,” she shot back. “Of course you wouldn’t have seen it, it would’ve taken too long to parse through that many memories I held of you.”
“...explain.”
“I did. I did vastly feel anger and frustration towards you,” she admitted. “After we parted, so much of our interactions were kept to our roles as players in the Flame Chase, we did not have the luxury of meeting for anything else,” she hesitated before plowing on. “However, that does not mean I did not look at you in other situations.”
“Finally admitting to spying on me?”
“I spied on everyone, this is not something to feel special about,” she snarked back. “After I knew that you would entice my anger so, I tried to see if it was other emotions as well. At those frilly parties you hated so, I’d watch you from a distance and feel amusement as your students would try to force you into pictures with them. When you’d keep your distance in Okhema on your occasional visits I’d feel fondness as you visited the dromas with a twinkle in your eye. When you’d begrudgingly write to me of those who were lost to the black tide outside of the Grove’s borders, I felt sadness for your loss.”
He was quiet to her words and so she pressed on.
“You invoked so much more than just anger in me, Anaxagoras. I learned I could feel human with you, be human with you despite my degrading self. And even with that, I did not love you simply because you could make me feel,” she held her hand over her heart, tilting her head up to a sky she would never see. “I love you, because in those moments I could be myself, to be just Aglaea, and when I was her I knew I always would, always did, and would never stop loving you. All the anger, sorrow, joy and grief was secondary to the knowledge that the love had never ended for me. And it never will.”
The wind softly whispered past them, picking up the scent of flowers again. She waited with bated breath, waited for him to say something, waited with hope she had barely felt in decades to let him answer her words.
And yet he was silent.
It was heartbreaking, certainly. But had she ever expected him to return her feelings again?
No. No she hadn’t.
She stepped away from him, no longer standing to be close to his warmth. In fact, she saw no reason not to keep walking, she only ever seemed to encounter flowers here. Nothing would get in her way.
“Aglaea.”
“As you’ve said, we’re already dead,” she kept walking, annoyed that now he spoke up. “Which means I no longer have to put up with the headaches you give me.”
“We’re already dead, but maybe-”
She stopped in place, feeling a yank of danger towards her divinity. Something had happened, something that was calling her back to her purpose something-
They were close to Aquila.
They needed her help.
Anaxa never did finish telling her how he managed to move back and forth between the living and dead, but she didn’t need him to. The Flame Chase journey was in danger, she had to give her support completely and fully.
Her emotions be damned.
“Aglaea? What's happened-AGLAEA-”
As she forced her consciousness back to the bracelet, back to those who needed her protection, she felt hands grab her, turning her body to them and pulling her close as she began to collapse.
The last part of her human consciousness before she was yanked back to cold divinity wondered if she imagined his breath oh so close to her lips, as if a kiss was destined to be granted.
“I shall have my final bath, in warm and radiant gold.”
Dying even as threads of divinity was just as startling as physically dying. She jolted to consciousness, scrubbing at her arms as if she could still feel the intense heat of the molten gold upon her.
How ridiculous. She hadn’t even been able to properly sense it.
“Aggy! Aggy you’re ok, it's ok!”
Small hands held hers, stopping her from scratching deep lines into her flesh. They quickly calmed her, and she gently held a hand to the cheek of her comforter.
“Trianne?”
“Hehe! It's been awhile Aggy!”
Without hesitation, she enveloped the small girl into her arms, pressing her face to the top of her head. Dear Trianne, dear feisty Trianne, whose death was expected but still oh so painful. She had wished for days after that her eyes still could shed tears, anything besides the yawning emptiness inside her chest as she stared at her little doll.
The little girl hugged her back just as tightly, letting out a small giggle. “I missed you too Aggy. Lots and lots!”
She inhaled the scent of her hair, somehow it still smelled of the sweets she’d always sneak away. Her dear Trianne.
Finally she pulled away, smiling and gently smoothing out Trianne’s hair. “Trianne. It's so wonderful to see you.”
“Yeah!” she could feel the girl in front of her slump slightly. “I mean, despite everything.”
Despite them being dead. She didn’t comment on it, simply stroking the girls hair. “How have you been?”
“Oh I’ve been having fun chatting with the people here! There's this one lady who's really pretty, I think you’d like her a lot. She doesn’t remember much but-”
Aglaea let the little girl chatter away, the sound of her voice slowly calming her down. While she appropriately responded and listened to what Trianne had to say, she also was thinking about her current situation.
She was now officially, and properly dead. She no longer felt the awkward split between her humanity and divinity, between life and death, both halves combined once again.
Aglaea the Goldweaver was officially and properly dead.
She supposed she should be more upset at that fact, but she found she wasn’t, especially with being able to speak once more with her dearly departed.
Speaking of dearly departed… “Trianne, I thought Anaxagoras was watching me.”
“Oh he was! But he found me and asked me to take over for a bit since he had some things to do. Oh!” She grabbed her hands tightly. “Do you want to go say hi to Little Ciphy? She just got here a little before you!”
Another wave of sadness. Another expected death, no less painful. “Yes, I would like to say hi to her very much.”
Letting Trianne lead her, Cipher was the one this time that pounced first for a hug, one that Aglaea eagerly returned. Oh, she had missed this, giving her forehead a gentle kiss while she pretended to be disgusted, a shy smile behind her lips.
“I am so proud of you, Cifera.”
She spent probably hours with the girls, before letting them run off, Cipher indulging Trianne to meet this mystery woman she liked so much. There was undoubtedly more time before they were washed away to speak more.
Right now she had a lost professor she wanted to find.
Cautiously, she raised a hand in her practiced manner, smiling as her threads once more flicked out from her, granting her an image more detailed than her eyes ever could. They certainly were weaker and not as far reaching before, but with her divinity now dead as well, she could once again gain access to their helpful aspects.
She began walking, sending them out in search. She found bundles of different shades, some with those that she recognized, but she didn’t stop. She’d be able to find them again.
Finally, her threads curled around a familiar hand and she smiled at finding her prey.
Her smile dropped when that hand grabbed the threads, holding them firmly in his hand.
Continuing to follow where her threads lead, she slowed down only once she could get a proper feel of his form. He didn’t turn around, silent until she stepped beside him.
“Finally properly joined the rest of us dead have you,” his tone was quiet as he wrapped the thread around his finger. “You just had to drag it out didn’t you.”
“I never liked leaving work undone, you know that,” she folded her arms, directing her unseeing gaze at where he held her threads. “Do you mind?”
He didn’t let go, continuing to twist and twirl the thread. “When I first saw these, I didn’t realize that not everyone could see them. I mistakenly thought they had all blindly accepted your sharp gaze in their lives. Then, when I realized it was only thanks to my alchemy that I was able to perceive them, I saw how completely you had quietly wrapped your cocoon over Okhema.”
“Like a suffocating blanket.”
“Your words, not mine,” he pulled the thread taught before letting it relax. “It rankled me, how often I noticed your threads following after me, keeping watch for my misdeeds.”
Reaching out she plucked the thread from his hand, pulling it back to her. Her hand had moved halfway before he grabbed her wrist and she stilled, waiting.
“If everything goes as I’ve deduced, Phainon will usher in Era Nova and rebuild the world. And in the process, you and I will forget everything of this life, left only with our instincts and basest aspects to mold us into the new Titans.”
She inclined her head. “Yes.”
“Which means all of what you’ve told me now, here in this land of death, will not follow us. I will not remember a single thing. It will be recorded nowhere, and it will die alongside our memories.”
She closed her eyes. “Get to the point.”
“Which is why,” his voice raised, just like it did when he wanted all to hear the grand point that the Anaxagoras had to make. “You will listen to what I have to say now. I will not remember loving you. I will not remember hating you. I will not remember a thing about you. But my very being, the being that I will be, will love you. I will have no idea who you are, but I will kiss your tears away and hold you to myself. And I will hope, if all that you said is true,” he pushed something into her hair, and she realized it was a flower from these beautiful, unending fields. “That despite not knowing me, despite not remembering how you hated me, how you loved me, you will do the very same to me.”
She smiled, a gentle radiant smile, and leaned into him, placing her hands on his shoulders and giving him a kiss. He kissed her back, and it was like when they first met again, when they thought that perhaps their differences would not destroy the budding love they held for one another.
Pulling away, Aglaea looked off to the horizon, letting her threads tell her what the view looked like, letting her enjoy the beauty of the moment.
“I hope you’re less aggravating in the next life.”
“And you less controlling.”
“I fear we both won’t get what we want.”
“Indeed.”
Gently she took his hand in hers, squeezing it. He squeezed back, warm and not alive but here with her. In time, more of their friends would join them here, and in time this realm would wipe them clean of all they were.
And then they’d wake in a new land, a new time. As new people, who would have no idea that there were already those who loved them out in the world. How wonderful it would be.
That is what the two of them believed, at least.