As I made my way towards the cemetery for the Memorial, I watched mourners with dazed apathy. People hugged each other by the graves or gave each other reassuring pats on the back.

I walked alone.

A pained scream echoed across the field. Whipping towards the ghastly cry, I saw a middle-aged Risan woman fall to her knees before a grave of a third-year Healer. Another woman knelt beside her as they comforted one another.

Sometimes the wounds of the spirit are the hardest ones to heal.

My body felt heavy. So heavy. Too heavy to carry. In my darkest moments, I longed for my essence to float in the cosmos next to Peter and Bragda. Far away from here, peaceful and free.

Most of the past three days I spent in my bed, reliving the horrors of the past few days in my nightmares. I thought the Grieving Memorial would assuage the pain, but I was wrong.

When I caught sight of Alicia at the back of the cemetery, I halted mid-stride. She was tracing her fingertips over a bit of the Memorial Wall they'd erected for the countless dead that had never returned. Solid black marble. Relentless and daunting, the square monument protected our beloved dead, warding them from the evil Gatál who stood on our very doorstep.

My vision grew blurry as I walked past the vast sea of names. Thousands and thousands of villagers from every corner of the Neutral Zone. All those who'd died in battle from every class and race. All those who'd succumbed to injuries or disease. All those who'd committed suicide from grief or guilt.

No distinctions. No ribbons. No colors.

Death and war was the great unifier.

We all wore black that day.

As I approached, Alicia was tracing the intricate carving of Marcus' name with a piece of baking paper and black charcoal. Silently, I stood beside her, and she brushed her fingers over his name again and again, as though she were trying to cast a spell to bring him back to life.

"I saw Bragda's name," she whispered in a choked voice, leading me further along the wall.

Alicia sniffled and pointed to a name. There it stood along the top of the Wall, low enough that I could reach if I stood on my tiptoes. I touched it, feeling the rough marble of the carving.

Bragda Ironfist.

My sister was gone.

My breath caught in my throat, and Alicia patted my back. "It's okay, Liselle. You can cry."

Pressing my palm against the polished black marble, my Risan receptors detected remnants of all the pain and sorrow etched forever along the Wall's surface. It scorched my spirit with an inferno fueled by a million grieving souls.

You can cry. You should cry. Force it if you must, damn you!

But the tears refused to come.

I didn't feel sad.

I felt angry. Angry at myself.

A deep and utter loathing burned inside me, making me want to rip the universe to shreds and turn back time to bring her back. If I'd joined the Fireborn like Peter had asked--if I'd accepted Father's call--I might have been able to prevent this.

My own self-righteousness had led me to reject that calling.

And look what happened.

My insides crawled and twisted upon themselves as I leaned my palm against that wall, squeezing my eyes shut. My Risan receptors imbibed all the pain and anguish of the mourners around me, their emotions swarming around me like bilious smog.

"Liselle? Hon, are you having another fisca?" Alicia asked, giving me a gentle shake that brought me back to reality. "Please say something."

I shook my head. "I...can't."

"It's okay," she said, giving me a hug.

It took all my discipline not to slap her or push her away. I didn't want to be pitied.

I wanted to be healed.

I wanted this festering wound inside of me to scab over. I wanted Peter to heal my injuries like he'd done on Induction Day when he'd saved me.

Even with all my power and strength, I hadn't been able to save him. Anger and frustration welled up inside me like a putrid geyser ready to burst.

Alicia must have felt my rage through her receptors because she recoiled as though I'd actually hit her.

"Here, Liselle." Alicia reached into her pocket and gave me a sheet of baking paper and a charcoal pencil.

"Thank you."

Drawing on my negative emotional energy, I pulled myself together and  yanked the paper from Alicia. I traced my sister's name with such vigor that it almost tore the paper.

In silence, I strode towards the rows starting with S. Without any regard for my fellow mourners, I shoved my way to the front of the crowd.

It didn't take me long to find his name. Right in my line of sight.

Peter Sardon.

"Peter," I murmured, touching the rough marble. "I miss you. Wherever you are, I hope you find peace. Please forgive me."

As I etched his name in charcoal below Bragda's, I could almost feel his spark of energy rush across my skin.

Denial was a cruel trick of the mind.

Just when I'd placed the memento in my pocket, I came face to face with the last person in the world I'd expected to meet. My mind whirled in confusion as I stared agape at the woman.

She looks so familiar.

The woman had hair as dark as royal agate and light hazel eyes. She had flawless olive skin like a twenty-year-old. Tall, wiry limbs. The typical build and phenotype of a Risa.

Where do I know her? A friend of Peter's?

Then it hit me, and chills crawled down my spine. She looked like a female version of Peter's pure Risan form, which meant--

"You must be Liselle," she said, tracing her fingers over his name. "Peter's told me so much about you." She cast her gaze at me and focused on Peter's medallion hanging on my neck. I clutched it reflexively and hid it under my robes. "It makes sense he'd give it to you."

"Are you--?"

"I'm Seraphina," she said, shaking my hand in both of hers. Her Risan receptors sent me soothing energy to ease my grief. "Peter's sister."

"Wh-what?"

"I know, we look nothing alike," she said, pursing her lips. "Peter got his looks from Father, and I got everything from Mama. Before she reincarnated as Helena, Mama had black hair and dark skin."

I stared at her, agape.

"Peter didn't tell you?"

"Not about that."

"Were you there during the attack?" she asked, her eyes filled with concern. "Did you see his soul?"

"What?"

"My brother's essence," she said in a choked voice. "It looks like...like a tiny firefly of bright, shining light."

I nodded.

"Did it fade into nothingness, or did it float to the heavens?" She clutched my shoulders as though I were her only anchor in the tumultuous sea. "Please tell me you saw it float."

"I saw his spirit leave his body and float until it touched the clouds."

Seraphina began to laugh even though the tears were still pouring down her cheeks. She embraced me once more as I stood still, unable to move, not knowing what to say.

"Oh, thank the gods!"

She's mad with grief.

"That means he's not gone forever." Seraphina wiped tears from her cheeks and gave my shoulder another gentle squeeze. "He's healing with Mother. He'll come back."

"Are you serious? He's in the Tree?"

Seraphina gave me a wistful smile and almost dragged me away from the wall. "As long as his soul survives, he'll return to the physical plane when he fully heals."

"How?"

She lowered her voice to the softest whisper. "The Tree of Life heals all wounds for immortals like Peter and me. If our bodies or souls are damaged too suddenly or beyond repair, She reincarnates us or transmigrates us."

Dazed and lost in my thoughts, my brain refused to connect the dots. "Transmigrate?"

"When a mortal is near death, Mother can regenerate their bodies with our souls and accept the original soul into herself. On a battlefield, that's the most likely option."

An electric pulse ran through me. A glimmer of hope.

"What about my sister?" I asked, wide-eyed. "Is there a chance Mother spared her too?"

"She can only use immortal souls to reincarnate or transmigrate. Was your sister an immortal?"

I gave a heavy sigh. "No, she was a Dwarf. Mortal like me."

Seraphina pursed her lips and clasped my shoulder. "If your sister has fallen, Mother has already welcomed her home."

My heart clenched, and I looked away so that Seraphina wouldn't see the tears forming in my eyes. "I swear to you that I will make the Gatál pay for what they've done."

She closed her eyes and drew a deep breath, breathing in the angry tendrils inside my aura, which writhed and twisted in the air like acidic, poisonous smoke. When Seraphina opened her eyes, the irises had darkened from hazel to dark brown.

"Don't put yourself in danger, Liselle, or my brother's sacrifice would have been for nothing."

"He did his duty as a Defender," I replied. "It is my turn to uphold my end of the responsibility."

Seraphina grasped my shoulders. "Liselle, he didn't go to Halden for the Defenders. He went there for you."

"We were close friends, but not that close."

"Listen, I've known my brother for eighty thousand years." She curled her lip. "He can be too stubborn for his own good. He never talks about his feelings, but I figured out the truth. Well, it wasn't that hard, to be honest. He never shut up about you."

"What do you mean?"

"You're his soulmate."

"With all due respect, I don't believe in soulmates." I sighed and gestured at all the mourners. "I'm connected to all of Creation, and I feel all their emotions. Right now I'm starting to regret it."

"I know what you mean," she replied with a nod. "I feel it too."

"Then you know that I shouldn't connect with one soul in particular."

"I did."

"You're a hybrid."

Seraphina pinched the bridge of her nose. "Every draconic and Risan essence has a soulmate. Father recognized Mama's soul even after she was reborn as Helena."

"Maybe it was just wishful thinking," I muttered in a skeptical tone.

"It's real."

"Be that as it may, I took an Oath of Chastity, Seraphina. I can't have a soulmate."

"Soulmates don't have to be lovers," she said. "Sometimes they're best friends. There doesn't have to be a physical component for you to relate to someone on a spiritual and cognitive level."

"As much as that may comfort you, I just lost my sister. The only family I had left." My tone came out much harsher than I intended. "I don't care about soulmates right now. I need to heal first."

Seraphina nodded and pursed her lips. "I'm sorry. I just wanted to give you hope. I felt the loneliness in your aura when we shook hands."

Embarrassed and annoyed, I cast away my gaze and clenched my jaw. What angered me the most was that I couldn't refute her claim.

"There is someone who may be able to help you find peace," Seraphina said in a kind tone. "After all the mourners have returned home, we can take a stroll in the Garden and visit the Tree."

I cast my gaze aside. "I'm afraid I'm in no fit state to see Her today."

"The Tree doesn't only want to see you at your best, Liselle." Seraphina clasped my shoulder. "She reflects our innermost thoughts and helps us navigate through murky emotions."

With a heavy sigh, I stared into the distance towards the Sacred Gardens. Protected by a dense forest of evergreens stood the Tree of Life, the Mother of all Creation. She was the hub and the life force that joined the Risa with every living soul on Paxus.

I didn't know whether I had the strength to face my convoluted thoughts and feelings.

"There's also something about the Tree you probably didn't know," Seraphina whispered. "She doesn't only connect us with the living. All souls retreat into her being after death."

I stared at Seraphina. "You mean I can see Bragda? Mama? Everyone we lost?"

"In a matter of speaking," she replied with a thoughtful expression. "Your brain will interpret the signals the Tree sends you as Bragda, but what you're sensing is her life essence." When I gave her a skeptical look, she added, "It will feel just as real, trust me. I've done it before."

"I have no idea how to cast a spell like that," I said, shaking my head in astonishment. "How is that even possible?"

"Well, lucky for us, I've done it before." She smiled at my shocked expression and had a twinkle in her eye that I knew so well from Peter. "Meet me at the gates to the Sacred Garden when the moon reaches her apex, and I'll show you how it's done."

With a resigned sigh, I agreed and made my way back to the dorm. I wasn't sure that I entirely believed Seraphina could cast such a spell, but if there were any chance I could see my sister laughing, drinking, and telling stories to her long-lost family, I had to try.

It might just give me the sense of closure I needed so that I could focus on protecting my home.