We don't speak. I think back to the conversation with Arlet, about being the king's mate. As if summoning magic, the gem embedded into my chest hums. Pictures I didn't conjure appear—like painted scenes of him touching my skin had goosebumps rising on my arms. I shake my head, trying to dispel the thoughts, but they persist, unbidden. It is a strange feeling, a mix of revulsion and curiosity, of wanting to know more but also wanting to run far, far away.
Eventually, we arrive at a set of large stone doors which are already wide open, marking the source of the water. A massive waterfall crashes down the stone, misting the entire area. They are adorned with intricate carvings of animals and people, all unfamiliar to me, and purple stones glitter in the wall. It's like staring at walls of stars.
Those same spell lights glow overhead, showing hundreds of Enduares. Crystals are organized around the space for the singers to lift up a song. This one is nothing like the joyful ones I've heard, nor the peaceful ones. It doesn't even compare to the ballad of heartache the king asked the singer to play while we danced.
This is agony. These are the emotions I've locked up tightly for Mikal. For my sweet brother.
The mournful tune fills the air with a weight that settles heavily on my chest. Even without understanding the lyrics, the sorrow emanating from the voices of the Enduar singers is clear. I am led to the king's side where he sits at the front of the gathering. His eyes are closed as he listens to the song, his face carved with pain. He's... vulnerable. So beautiful.
I feel a pang of sympathy for him, that fades quickly when I remember the arc of his sword. Then the song between us starts up. This time, I really pay attention. There are no words, but the melody tells me to touch him and find comfort.
My eyes widen. No. I’m mistaken. There’s no cosmic force tying us together. Mourning the dead is ugly business. It changes people irrevocably.
In this moment, I’m merely swept up in the fact that the Enduares are not so different from my own people. They too have lost loved ones, have known pain and suffering. Humans can still be evil and monsters can have consciences.
The tears sliding down my face are wet betrayals. I grasp the phial again, feeling the smooth, cold glass in my fingers as I trace the line of the cork. If I am to be with him all night, I will have access to his food.
I need to be patient.
Then a new wail cuts through the air, and my heart jumps with fear. It is a voice that I recognize, one that I never hoped to hear again. It is the sound of my mother, screaming in agony while giving birth to Mikal.
My head whips around, and I see everyone in pain. Do they hear what I hear? An uncovered tail snakes around my back, and I gasp. I look up to see the king looking down at me. His eyes are wide with concern, and the gem in my chest glows in response. He must have felt my fear.
"Estela, what are you feeling?" he asks, his voice full of urgency.
I shake my head, trying to clear the echoes of my mother's screams from my mind. His voice is so familiar, it slices through the grief. His hand slips through mine, and I look down to see my crystal glowing. There is peace between us. I'd swat his hand away, do anything I could to regain myself, but I am on the precipice, and he is the only thing holding me back. Then, all the lights go out.
All that is left is the song, the gems glowing in our chest, and the water.
The king steps forward, dragging me with him. Liana joins us, and together, their voices start to chant. It is a slow, rhythmic story, like a poem. I wish I understood.
When Liana starts to speak by herself, the king leans over. “Far away, there is a place. A heaven of sorts. A place where there is no slavery or death. This is its song. Would you like me to tell you the words?”
I look up at him, just barely making out his features. “Yes,” I breath.
He nods. Sad.
“Far away, in Vidalena's embrace,
Amid mountains warm, a sacred space.
Beneath brilliant sunlight's gentle grace,
In groves of trees, our final resting place.
Here, pain and war, they cease to exist,
In this hallowed ground, where spirits persist.
To our family, gone but not lost, we gather to say our last goodbye.
To express our love, and forever cherish them,
In our stones, their memory won't dim.”
Like a sweet vision, my eyes light up. I see it. I can picture it as clearly as if the gentle breeze was before me.
Movement in the crowd makes my sense dull, and we make way for a moving object, the only one still lit in entirety. It is a headless body, carried by Enduares I do not know.