The sun was rising, and my tears were as fresh as the first snowdrop. They fell silently, yet my heart cried louder. I wanted to crawl somewhere deep in the forest, hide myself in a hole, and keep crying. But if I did do that, I don't think I would ever come out.

"Come on, raven, we have to go bury him. Come on." Grimm whispered into my hair as he grabbed my arm pulling me up.

He was right. I needed to bury my father. I needed to do this as his daughter. His body also deserved proper rest. Numblingly, I walked along Grimm's side with my arm locked with his as I dragged my feet across the pavement. The dead did not go unheard. They followed after us, begging and crying—a trail of pity.

Yet, I couldn't care for their lost lives. I was tempted to scream again and make their souls hurt.

But the soft sun was awakening, and exhaustion rolled through my body. Its bright glare nearly blinded my eyes until Grimm raised his own shadow like an umbrella. My eyes eased. I looked at him but he did not look at me. He marched us to the cemetery.

This time Grimm matched my pace and became an echo.

Once we arrived at the cemetery, I was reunited with Dilara and Rose. Hans was there too a close distance. Except, he no longer had my father in his arms. They were cleaned and dressed in black. None of them said anything about my appearance, they hardly said anything.

Dilara and Rose rushed to my side as Grimm slowly removed my arm away from his arm. The girls linked their arms to mine and hurried me into the closest bathroom. But before I went in, I looked over my shoulder and saw Grimm talking with Hans. I knew it wasn't a conversation, but rather a king giving his loyal demon orders.

Dilara pulls my arm gently as Grimm and Hans disappear from my peripheral vision. Rose holds the door till Dilara pushes me towards the sink. I keep my head down not wanting to look at myself in the mirror. I couldn't accept it yet. I couldn't face my true self.

You will...You must...the ill spirit said, painfully so.

Dilara is the first one to speak. "Rose is cleaning your face, and I'll change your clothes. Is that okay?" A pause.

I mutely nod.

Rose rubs a wet cloth on my cheek. "Tell me if I'm hurting you." No one's hurting me anymore.

Yet everything is in agony.

I remain silent for the remainder of the time as they do their best to prepare me for my father's funeral. Out of the corner of my eye, I watch Dilara bring out a duffle bag and unzip it as she takes out what she needs. She comes over with a pile of black clothes and sits on the counter. She moves to remove the tattered veil, the last thing my father put on my head.

Before she takes it off, I abruptly say. "I want to keep it." She frowns and then glances at the blood-soaked tattered veil on my head. "It's mine." I croaked.

"Okay, it's yours," Dilara replied, and she took it off and placed it on the counter. I feel a wash of relief goes through me.

She continues along with Rose, on making me look presentable. Dilara helps me take off my clothes and shoes, all of which get thrown away. She shows me a plain black dress and the unforgettable silvered skull coat that Grimm once lent me, except this one was different. The top part was shorter and the back longer. The silver skulls were aligned horizontally. A few obsidian skulls were sowed near the cuffs.

"He wants you to wear it," Rose spoke softly. "He wants to protect you from them. If they see you wearing the coat, the dead won't come near you. They'll believe you're one of them." Dilara's brows knitted together. I stared at one of the silvered skulls.

They knew I was worse than a demon.

I curtly nod again as both girls carefully dress me. I never felt so much like a doll in my entire life. But there wasn't much I could do. My hands suffered, carved and peeled palms. My fingers were oddly bent and stiff. The power of lunaris was embedded into my skin, blood, and bones. The Moon said it would only be temporary. She also mentioned which power of lunaris she chose for me. I don't know what to make of it or what I could do. I was still lost.

Finally, they finish until Dilara speaks up, hiding something behind her back. "I brought a scarf." she swallows showingthe black fabric. "I thought it would help cover your..." I follow her gaze as I face myself in the mirror. Her eyes were on the sharp-tipped pale ears poking out of my hair.

An ache tugged at my heart, it felt old and new. I had the urge to cry for a different reason.

Wear it. She implored. Or else they will find you.

I did not argue. Dilara draped the scarf over my head as she attentively pressed pins into my hair. I needed to find a spell for that later. My thought seemed to ease the ill spirit. Dilara reached inside her pocket and pulled out a silvered glimmering crescent moon. It was the same moon hairpin Grimm gifted me. She slid over my pin on the side of the Moon's mark, and with that, she was finished.

"Do you want to look at yourself before we go?" she asked.

I glanced at her. "What? Don't I look as pretty as before?" I uttered, dryly.

She tried to assure me. "Most of the scars won't be permanent." She then added, quickly. "But beauty didn't save you, Nora. Your will did. You fought one hundred and twenty-five witches and warlocks all by yourself. I don't know anyone who could do what you did and survive. You're the strongest person I know." There was a gleam in her golden eyes. It was not the spark of a fire or an old one.

Call it an oath, vow, or promise. It was the unspoken tethered of friendship that would outlast a fire.

I swallowed. "You also fought them. You survived too." Dilara became quiet. She did not deny what she had done, but she knew some of those witches and warlocks.

I exhaled and turned away. Rose and Dilara tried to hold my arms again but I immediately crossed them over my chest. "I can walk by myself. I'm not entirely hopeless." My tone came out harsher than I intended. I cleared my throat. "I appreciate everything you all have done for me, but I just want to..." I want to go home. But I couldn't say it. I couldn't go anywhere.

After I didn't say anything, Dilara simply opened the door, and just as I was about to walk Rose spoke up. "The dead might not come near you, but they await you. They call your name. They won't stop asking for you." Something must've overtaken Rose. She was speaking strangely.

But I didn't want to think about anything anymore. Not the Moon, the dead, not witches or warlocks, my face, or the ill spirit inside my head. This was my last day as Nicolas Del Luna's daughter. Everything else would have to wait. I turned away and took my first step out of the bathroom. Rose's hurried footsteps came after mine till she reached my left side and stayed there.

We were greeted by keening souls with insincere and sincere condolences. The first soul reached my ears in my desperation. "We're sorry for your loss, Crier of Souls." Another came closer by Dilara. "You've listened to our hearts. We'll listen to yours." Many more followed after like a tidal wave. Rose pushed herself closer to my side. She winced as she heard their weeping and saw their movements. Dilara, however, who couldn't see or hear the dead remained fearless.

And I held my high. As high as the Moon. As high as the sea could ever reach the Moon.

I couldn't drown their cries or sympathies. I've never heard so many mourners. I've never heard so many people sound like me. Other than the souls' shouts, I could discern something else—a hollow rattle beneath the ground. And with every step I took, it grew viciously like a poison.

My fingers pulsed and my skin prickled. It felt like I was disturbing someone from their sleep. I hugged myself tighter trying to suffocate the feeling.

The winds continued to blow gently.

As we drew nearer to my father's grave, I saw Grimm and Hans walking towards it too. The souls must've seen them tooas their cries ceased into whispers and murmurs. Both immortals were finely dressed in their uniform black clothes. Grimm's coat was more highly decorative. A chain of obsidian and silver skulls tied with black tassels as it dangled above his right knee. He looked more regal than ever. My eyes slid over to Hans' recognizable coat although it was missing its first silver button. We all looked perfect for this funeral.

I turned my attention towards the grave plot where a brown polished coffin stood. I don't know how Grimm or Hans found a coffin on such short notice, but I'm glad they found a way. I took wary steps towards it. My father was lying there. His body would be in there forever. At least he would be near my mother, brother, and grandmother. He would be with them in body and soul.

"We'll lower him whenever you are ready," Dilara said, quietly.

I stared at the coffin blankly. "I forgot to bring him flowers." What kind of daughter forgets to bring their flowers to their dad's funeral? How could I forget? "I need to get him flowers." I started to turn away but Dilara approached me, and I halted my steps.

"There is no floral shop open right now," she says, softly. "It's six o'clock in the morning."

My body froze. I looked behind her, towards the morning sky. The laziness stretches of clouds accompanied by hues of blue and yellow. I almost forgot. Then a strange thought appeared in my head. I wonder if the sun has ever seen someone get buried this early. My chest tightened.

Grimm broke me from my thoughts. "I'll get you some flowers."

But a brittle soul chimed in."You don't need to walk so far, Your Majesty. Take the flowers from my grave. My husband will stop by later with a fresh bouquet." Everyone stared at the soul, except for Dilara who had gathered quickly when a soul was talking. Hans looked the most surprised by the soul.

"And what would you like in return?" Grimm asked as he eyed the soul with suspicion.

I also wanted to know. If I've learned anything about the dead is that they always want something. Either to fulfill ordestroy a life.

I said to the soul. "Wouldn't your husband be upset if he knew somebody stole from his wife's grave?"

I know I would be.

The kind soul spoke again. "One missing flower will not harm anyone. Neither will a dozen. If my husband were here and saw you, he would give them to you himself." she scolded. "They're my flowers, and I can do whatever I like with them. I do not want anything in return." She then directed her voice towards me. "And they're not stolen, Crier of Souls. I know where they will be. Despite your name, I hope you will cry less." If only that were possible.

She says to herself. "I suppose I did ask for something after all."

Grimm says nothing as he reaches for the soul's arm and walks her to a grave.

"Thank you," I said, barely audible.

I doubt she heard me.

My chest rose up and down. Once I could muster one steady breath, I placed a shaky hand on top of my father's coffin knowing there was nothing but an empty vessel inside. His soul was gone. But I knew where he was. I entrusted Grimm with my father's soul in taking him to rest with my family. I'm glad it was—I closed my eyes—I'm glad it was Grimm walking him on the other side. He took care of him in a way I never could. There were no words or emotions that could describe what I felt for what Grimm had done. I was beyond feeling grateful. I appreciate everyone's efforts.

Though, I still couldn't help but feel like I had been robbed of my father. Stolen. But not by Grimm. I felt robbed by the people who hunted my father. They stole my time with him. They stole my chance of ever going home. They stole my hope. They took it all and left me with nothing.

"Do you want me to open it?" Hans spoke his eyes on the casket.

Before I could answer there was a sudden change in the winds, the air quickly becoming dense.