The First Day

  I woke up in the inn. My eyes felt weary with water that I hadn’t cried. I swallowed hard as I remembered the death of Beddenmor again. I’d seen it so many times by that point. But, despite the comfort of spending the final two days just… enjoying the company of the new family I was forming, it hurt just as much. Maybe worse, since I had to watch them die, one by one. I was glad, at least, that Junia always went before Millie. I thought that sweet girl might die anyway, if her little sister went first. Watching the end of the city after that just felt like sand in an open wound.

  I sat up and reached for my ribbon, tying up my hair without even looking. I knew where the ribbon would be by then. I knew where everything was. I sighed and stood, facing the first day again. I didn’t need to count. I wasn’t sure I could if I wanted to. I could only count the same moments so many times before it made me feel sick. I guess I always felt sick anyway. Still, something soured in my stomach more quickly than others.

  I made my way down the stairs, and I paused when I reached the tavern. Marcus looked over at me as I entered the common room.

  “You look like you could use a drink,” he greeted as I approached him. I shrugged. He was probably right. He didn’t always say that. I wondered what expression I made that made the difference. He would sometimes wait for me to address him, and other times suggest food—or alcohol. Whatever it was, I decided I could use a little extra courage, and I’d prefer to find it in a bottle than in whatever magic Vitinia was using. I walked around behind the bar and grabbed a stein from under the counter, filling it with whatever was in the cheapest-looking bottle. I hoped it was liquor, but I’d find out one way or another. I walked back around and sat next to Marcus.

  “How much of this do I have to drink before I like the flavor?” I asked. Marcus laughed.

  “Well, how much have you tried already?” he returned. I sighed.

  “A lot, over the years. Although, never much in a short period of time,” I said. He shrugged.

  “Then you probably aren’t going to acquire the taste, I’m afraid,” he chuckled. I looked down at my drink.

  “I never have been very good at acquiring my own tastes. I’ve always just looked up at someone taller than me, and done what they were doing. I shouldn’t be surprised that everything still tastes sour, now,” I responded. His face melted into sympathy, and he grunted.

  “Everyone learns what to like from other people. That’s just what life is, unless you are alone,” he answered. I took a drink. I didn’t hate it, but I didn’t enjoy it either. I wondered if that was the flavor itself, or if that was just how everything seemed to me. I put the glass down.

  “Then I suppose my mistake has always been learning from the wrong people, right up until I was alone,” I said. He shrugged.

  “Well, it’s never too late to find new people,” he suggested. I took another drink, forcing the rest of the liquid down.

  “Maybe. I don’t know. Before I can, I think I need to understand,” I replied. He tilted his head, inviting me to elaborate. “I need to understand why I was taught that I should like poison. Why I couldn’t be offered at least the kindness of being told what I was drinking. Why do people do that to their children, do you think? If you know how small you are. If you know you are only headed into dark rooms with locks on the outside, can’t you at least tell your children not to follow you?” Marcus’ face grew serious, and it was his turn to let out a breath.

  “Because if they stop lying to us, they have to stop lying to themselves. And worse, we’ll stop repeating the lie. For a parent like that, the kindness of honesty might as well be death,” he whispered. I grit my teeth. There was an anger growing in me. Or… finally showing its face. It had always been there, but I’d been turning its teeth on myself for so long, I’d forgotten what emotion it was. But every day, I was more and more furious.

  “It’s just so… cruel,” I responded. He sniffed.

  “Maybe you’ll acquire the taste after all,” he answered. I didn’t answer. I just left the glass where it was, and stood up. That was all I was going to get. I eyed the muffins on the counter, then went to collect them. I knew where and when I would find Luke and Vitinia. I had time to save the girls from him one last time.

  “Yes,” I answered. “I promise, I won’t be gone long.” Junia eyed me hopelessly, but understanding flooded into her eyes before I had to explain myself. She was a kind girl, and all she cared about was Millie. I made her feel safe, and she never wanted me to go. But the life she’d been forced to live for days before I reached her left her… older than she was. And she always understood. She wasn’t the only person hurting, and I was the only one who could save everyone else.

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  “Will Luna send you back?” she asked. I smiled. I didn’t know why, but she always asked me that. She thought of me as some kind of angel of Luna, of all people. I wasn’t sure how to feel about that. I didn’t think of myself as an angel of death. But I realized she didn’t either. At least, not the kind usually portrayed in stories. I could perhaps be considered an angel of my own death, by that point. In any case. I would be back. I always came back. I knelt in front of Junia as she held Millie in her hands, and I gave her a wide smile.

  “Always. If Luna sent me, I’m certain she sent me here just for you three, and she’d never let me abandon you,” I promised. Junia sniffed, and her eyes glistened, but she offered an even wider smile in return.

  “Take a bath with Millie and me when you do!” she pleaded. I smiled and nodded as I stood. I then looked at Harrison, who stood behind us and watched.

  “I’ll take care of them, I promise,” he said. “I don’t know why you are trusting me so much, after we just met. But I will. Just let me know what you learn, alright?” I nodded.

  “Because you’re a good man, Harrison. And I will. Thank you,” I responded. I took some effort to turn and walk out his front door, but I did. I’d spent as long with them as I could, and the service I’d visited before would start soon. I considered finding Melody and going to the garden with her as I had the first time. It would be the easiest way to get past the guard. But I wasn’t who I’d been. Something had come loose after my last conversation with Chandara, whoever she was. Something that had been cracking for a long time. The fog I lived inside of. The lies that fell from my grandmother’s lips and landed on my shoulders. They were dying, at least in my own heart.

  I didn’t need help getting past the guards. With all the aura I’d collected, I didn’t need anything at all. I hadn’t summoned Margaret this time. And I wasn’t planning to. She’d been a friend, of a sort, when I needed one. But I never stopped hating her, and I’d realized I wasn’t obligated to. Even if the implications of that hurt. I’d bring her back, when this was over. At least to thank her for what help she’d provided. But what I was going to do this time was between me, Vitinia, and Luke. I was a powerful mage. Possibly one of the most powerful in history. I‘d been so angry at myself for so long that I’d forgotten that. But as the scales fell from my eyes, I was slowly starting to remember. Margaret was powerful too. So was Vitinia. At least, with the aid of the souls they were burning as fuel. They were still dangerous.

  But those souls had been offered to me as well. Only scraps of them, maybe. But for me, they’d been offered willingly. I didn’t know how it worked, but I could feel the strength that it offered me. They were pretending to have aura, using the souls of kinder people. I was working with them. I would win in a fight with Vitinia. Without so many doubts. With all the aura I had. All the help and support from everyone I’d saved. I would win.

  But, of course, I wasn’t going there just to fight her. I didn’t need to only be stronger; I needed a chasm between our abilities, for just long enough that I could reach Luke. But I would. I would do what I needed to do, and I wouldn’t make the same mistake again. I had realized, when fighting Margaret, who I was. And it was only my wish to forget what she had done, which had allowed me to forget it again. But I knew what I could trust myself to do, and what I couldn’t. I was strong. But I couldn’t be trusted to overcome Vitinia with strength. There was one thing I was good at. One thing I could always do, no matter who I was facing. One thing I could trust myself with.

  I could hurt with the people who were hurting. I could hurt with Margaret, with her victims, and with my own. And I could hurt with Luke. And I was starting to remember one of the reasons I’d wanted to find Camilla in the first place. Something my grandmother had covered with her fog. With her illusions, however she controlled them. And that was simple. When enough people are hurting together, openly, and raw, they can no longer be controlled. That’s what I’d really done. When I freed everyone. It wasn’t just memories of other lives. It was memories of hurt. Memories of pain. I’d stitched people back together by reminding them of the pain they’d been allowed to express in other versions of their lives.

  It was going to hurt. I was going to open wounds for both myself, and the man I was trying to save. But when I was done, his mother would lose control of him. It wouldn’t work the same way. I didn’t think that would be enough. Maybe for this loop. But to end it permanently, like I did with Margaret, there was only one thing I could do. Or, rather, one thing I could ask Luke to do.

  I retreated into my own thoughts for the entire walk, and Beddenmor floated around me like mist as I passed it by. I was in front of the garden door when I finally started paying attention to my surroundings. I saw Melody approaching, and I knew I’d come at the right time. The guard opened his mouth to challenge me, but with only a few quiet whispers, he was frozen in place as I passed. The garden was as horrifying as I remembered as I walked inside. A place so beautiful, with so much life and so many colors, littered with unwilling corpses and brainwashed churchgoers. I could tell a few were prisoners in their bodies by the sparking aura leading to them from my feet. Others could be as well, but be beyond my help.

  It didn’t matter. Not at that moment, at least. Because that new trail was there. I took a seat in the back row and waited as I watched it move. Melody found her own seat with Skylla, her husband, and the corpse of her son. I watched Livia leave. Luke made it to the front of the group, and I caught a glimpse of Vitinia watching him in the front row.

  “The world has been seeing a lot of dark days lately,” Luke said. But it wasn’t him speaking. He was a puppet. Screaming to be let out. Every word he said was a violation, and each fostered the anger in my soul like they were pressing on bellows. “It’s funny, isn’t it? That phrase? ‘Dark days.’ As if that wasn’t an inherent contradiction. Why do you think we call them that? Dark days?”

  “Why?” I asked, standing and entering the aisle that led to the makeshift altar. I stared at Vitinia as I walked toward Luke. “Please. I have to understand. It’s so cruel. And I can’t understand how it could be worth it. Why are you doing this to him?”