In one week, we were forced into a war with a kingdom far greater than ours, one which would ally with other kingdoms larger than us and swarm our small valley. We killed the Prophet of our neighboring land and now were forced to tend to them or risk losing them to Malach. Our world crumbled in a few days.

  Today, Nash and I left the impossible amount of work in the hands of our trusted advisors and allies in order to honor our dead and take the first step to healing the people's faith in our kingdom. I couldn't stop thinking about that poor kid's family dying and the powerful condemnation of me that'd given in my very own village. Worse, I couldn't stop thinking about him living each second beneath the weight of his mother's death. Grieving our slaughtered people could not wait. This was a priority today.

  King Tyroin, the leader of Gael's kingdom, offered his best builders who used their power to rapidly and efficiently erect structures that otherwise might take months. They worked with our own most talented builders to create a memorial hall on top of a hill that overlooked my village. Within days, they transported chiseled marble slabs that glowed with sun during the day and moon at night.

  The morning we planned to honor our fallen in the unprecedented slaughter, I walked into the hall for the first time. Golden sunlight poured through five-hundred-forty-one skylights in the domed ceiling and fell upon the golden tiles in the floor that bore the name of each person we lost. The rest of the hall remained in very dim torchlight.

  The families of those killed sat on pillows gathered together around the bright golden tiles. The hall was huge and the number of people here even more overwhelming. I couldn't breathe as I took in the sight of all the family members.

  Nash stopped beside me as Elsie entered behind us and looked back at her.

  "I'm not sure about this," he said.

  Elsie raised her chin with the same determination as when she refused to leave my side during the attack. "I am."

  I looked at Nash and then at her again. He watched his little girl who did not look so little in this moment for several more seconds. I squeezed his hand, and he closed his eyes.

  "Okay." Nash turned back around and walked forward, saying nothing else.

  We walked as a family to the center of the hall. Everyone quieted apart from soft cries and sniffles.

  "Thank you for allowing us to honor your family today."

  The hundreds of golden tiles glowed so brightly in the midst of all the people looking at me from the darkness. Thousands of glassy eyes stared back at me, full of expectation and waiting, like I might bring their dead back to life or put their broken family back together. I tried to make my pause appear purposeful when I actually lacked the ability to speak. The grief in the room choked the air from my lungs, and guilt stole everything I planned to say. I lived when the people they loved most didn't. My family lived. What right did I have to even feel anything when they lost so much?

  Nash withdrew his swords, and I stared in shock when he lowered to his knees. Elsie and I both looked down to see him place them on the ground in front of him, lean against his hands, and lower his head. "I vowed these blades to you and your children." He lifted his head but didn't rise back up. "I vowed my life to you as your war chief."

  I no longer even heard anyone crying. The room was entirely silent.

  A mix of fury and sorrow wound into Nash's voice, somehow both broken and strong. "I failed you." This time he sat back on his knees and lifted his face to the domed ceiling. His long curls fell back so nothing blocked my view of the dampness on his high cheeks. There was nothing broken in his roar now. "With these blades, I will slay one Commander for each of your dead. I will find those responsible and personally kill them." Nash slammed his fist hard against his chest with a dull thud once, twice. "They will beg for your forgiveness."

  Elsie dropped down to her knees beside him, her thin shoulders shaking enough that I realized she wept silently.

  I turned to cast my look over everyone who gathered. The weeping began in a gradual build starting with the mothers who wore the beads of their dead around their necks and spreading to the fathers who clutched them close. The children cried bitterly and lay against their parents and grandparents. No matter where I looked, I saw the face of lost life. A loss too great to ever contain in one heart or express in one life. It defied the bounds of our world. Each and every one.

  "I need to promise you never again," I said. The tears ran so quickly from my eyes they dropped from my chin and wet the collar of my tunic. "I need to take your pain and promise no more." I walked forward while my family knelt. "The truth is that before this war ends, there will be more memorial halls built." The anguish crushed my lungs but somehow I managed to squeeze the words out. "You must carry on hope for your loved ones who no longer can, because without hope, we will lose this war. Carry purpose for the kingdom so we don't lose ourselves. Lend us their memory so we have the strength to fight."

  I joined Nash and Elsie on my knees as well and bent until my forehead touched the ground.

  "I will give all I have to ensure such a tragedy never happens again." The cool of the marble etched into every nerve ending on my fingertips. I needed to remember this feeling. "My life is yours."

  Faintly, I heard Elsie whisper, "And mine."

  Not hers. I wanted to say it, to demand it. Maybe to decree it. Not Elsie's.

  But surrounded by the dead and those they were forced to leave behind, I dared not speak such a thing.

  Time didn't move in the dimness of the memorial hall but rather blended together in a meaningless blur of mourning. Eventually, Nash and I moved to the family closest to us with Elsie following a few steps behind us.

  An older couple held each other's hands, tearing their gaze from a portrait of a woman to look up at us. I didn't recognize the woman, but saw her name etched into the golden plate on the ground.

  "Analize," I read. "Thirty-nine years old. Warrior."

  The two turned their faces together, foreheads touching. "She fought bravely," the woman said. "She saved two children."

  The love and grief flowing from this couple wrapped around my chest so when I looked up at the hundreds of groups still waiting, dizziness swept over me. "We're in debt to your daughter for her sacrifice."

  Nash reached out and took the single bead of ash left out of the necklace for this event. He placed it in the small hole on the golden tile left for it. When we all left, the builders planned to seal it to memorialize the bead on their nameplate.

  I touched the woman's shoulder and then the man's as we continued for the next family. The golden tiles ran in a large spiral around the memorial hall, allowing us to weave through the families. We soon came upon a young mother and father surrounded by her parents and siblings. The parents clutched the empty swaddling blankets of their baby, crying too hard and too deeply to speak or for their wails to even be heard. Nothing escaped the woman's lips, but sobs wracked her body.

  Nash wrapped his arm around my waist and gripped me tight. Just looking at those tiny blankets, I smelled the freshness of Finn's soft hair and felt his smooth cheek beneath my finger. Malach's warriors killed an infant? What kind of warriors killed any child, much less one so helpless?

  Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

  I dropped down beside the mother and dragged her against me, holding her so tight I feared I may hurt her. Finally, a single croak broke from her lips and unleashed a wail reverberated through the entire hall.

  "My baby," she cried.

  Minutes felt like hours as we consoled the grieving mother. When we finally stepped away from this family, I stopped Elsie. With my hand trembling lightly, I wiped the tears from my cheeks and nudged her in the direction of the exit. "You have to go."

  "No." She pushed back against me. "These are my people too. I won't abandon them."

  "Elsie." I barely managed to keep my voice from careening out of control. "You're too young for this. It's too much for anyone. Please, go."

  Nash tucked a braid behind her ear. "Do what Max says, Elsie. This isn't a place for children."

  "It's not?" she asked and with damp eyes, pointed at the golden tile bearing the name of a twelve year old boy. "It seems to be full of children." Turning, she raised her hand to indicate the weeping children in the family next to us. "It seems I'm the most fortunate child here, so why should I be spared from suffering when they can't be?"

  Her father took her shoulders to turn her back toward us. "We'll talk more when this is over. You can't bear the suffering of the entire kingdom. Cherish the mercy that you can walk away and let your remaining days of youth make you strong enough to fight one day when you're ready. It's a gift to have a childhood. You'll be better for it later."

  "Don't make me leave." Her burning stare tore into her father and then locked on me. "I don't want to leave. We almost needed to lay Ma to rest here. Me." She sighed deeply. "I was scared before, and you told me that warriors don't surrender to fear. This is my chance to be brave for our kingdom, just like you guys. You can't protect me from this war."

  How could Elsie sometimes talk as if she was still five years old and then at others like she was thirty? She oscillated between kid and adult too quickly for me to keep up, but I realized that this was her growing up.

  Nash and I turned to one another. "Let her," I whispered. He looked ready to argue, but I touched his arm. "She deserves to mourn."

  "This is more than mourning. It's too much for adults."

  "How do you think she'll feel alone in her room while we're here?"

  Nash closed his eyes and finally sighed. He nodded at Elsie. "You can stay. Just please don't be afraid to leave. You're still our little girl."

  Elsie hugged him and then me. We continued to grieve with our people until I saw Elara. Numbness had mercifully started to overcome my heart, until I saw her. Rylan knelt with the woman, his mother, and older sister. The absence of his father told me who they lost without me needing to look for his name. Seeing them hit me so hard in the gut, I groaned.

  I knew the moment Elsie saw them. Her head was turned and her steps faltered. "Rylan," she said in a gasp, hand shooting to her mouth.

  The boy tried to look brave when he lifted his face to Nash and me, but the redness streaking his eyes told me how much he'd cried, and how little he likely slept.

  I reached my hand out and Elara took it. "My son," she said.

  "I'm so sorry." Not once had a single word I said today felt like enough. "Elara–"

  "You do not apologize, our dear Prophet. I remember the day we all gathered together in the assembly hall, and you asked who would stand up to lead the valley. Did you remember it was me who said it looked like you were already standing?"

  My mind retraced the moment, trying to place the face of the woman I had not yet known.

  "You were so young and eager for a different life, yet you gave yourself to us. You gave your family to us. There is no need to apologize. If not for you, I'm certain I would have lost more than my son."

  "Elara." I bent to embrace her and clasped her head against my shoulder. "None of you deserve this. I wished I'd seen it coming. We prepared, but we never expected the poison."

  "Who can expect every threat that comes our way? My son died protecting his children just as he lived. He died happy."

  Rylan opened his hand and lifted the bead of his father's ashes. Elsie took it from his palm, carefully placing it in the tile. "We will remember him for all our days," she said.

  The tears I knew the book yearned not to shed slinked down his cheeks, making the anger hardening his eyes all the more powerful. "I will ensure our enemies remember him when I kill them in battle."

  Nash placed his hand upon the young warrior's head. "You will make your father proud."

  When Rylan looked up to Nash, inklings of the child left in him rose to surface, and I imagined another life where a fifteen year old boy didn't need to fight. Where our thirteen year old daughter didn't force herself to endure the suffering of thousands.

  The grief harbored in this room bound us together in a force much too strong to deny and while that weighed my soul down with dread, the fury smoldering much deeper than that rose to the surface. After I kissed the top of Elara's snow white hair and the cheeks of her grandchildren, I caught my husband's wrists, pulling him close.

  "We'll burn Theus and Malach's bodies here in this very room," I said. "There will be no beads for their ashes. The dust will scatter on the floor and no one will care for them enough to even sweep it up. One day the last speck of their being will disappear from this hall and no one will remember them."

  His cheek edged alongside my temple. "They'll be nothing but dirt on the soles of our people's shoes. We have one. Now we will take the other."

  With the passion still sweeping through me, I raised my face to see six golden tiles a few rows down, all empty of mourners. Eyes shifting, I found Owen sitting against the wall, the only one left to weep for his family. Only his eyes were dry. Dry and burning bright. He watched me, gaze never shifting. The necklaces full of beads of ashes piled upon one another around his neck.

  Of all the images from this day sure to haunt me, I recognized immediately, I'd never erase the image of this one man sitting alone with all those golden tiles.

  When we approached him, he tossed the handful of beads at our feet and finally looked away from me. If blaming me helped him with his suffering, I would accept it every day of his life, but fear filled me at the thought that this might be Malach's second poison. That one stole our power and the other our spirit.

  The incomprehensible sorrow filled memorial hall to the brim, its waters bursting from the windows. We drowned together here for hours more.

  When we returned home, Elsie asked for Trish, and the caregiver promised to continue watching Finn as he napped. So Nash and I settled into our bed, numb and silent.

  It was all too much.

  I wanted to weep. That might relieve the pressure in my chest. It hurt too badly though. The pain went beyond anything that could be expressed. Finally, Nash rolled me to himself and he held onto me tightly.

  "Killing Theus didn't soften their tears or burden." The broken sorrow in his voice broke my heart. "That suffering I made him endure meant nothing." He pressed his forehead against mine. "Even knowing that, I cannot stop thinking of vengeance. I need to kill all those who threatened our kingdom and our family and know that you are all safe."

  "It's going to be a long war. A long time before anyone feels safe."

  A strong hand gripped my face and unflinching eyes stared into mine. "For hurting my wife and terrorizing my child, I will kill their Prophets." Nash's grip remained firm, but the thumb that shifted down my jaw was so gentle. "I give you my word, my beloved."

  Beloved. We never called one another that. Nash needed new words to express the depth of his love. Tears wet my eyes.

  His lips grazed my own. "But for these tears they made you shed, for how they broke your heart for our people, I will tear down their kingdoms." A hand slid beneath my shirt over the small scar left by the poison. "There will be nothing left of them."

  "Nash."

  "I'll fight this war even if only for you." His mouth devoured my own in desperate, demanding kisses. "Don't tell me I can't, because I must and I will."

  Cool air prickled my skin as Nash drew my shirt up and melted his lips against the scar on my side. My fingers tangled in his hair, my eyes closing. I felt it all, every bit of his pain over not saving him from my injuries that day.

  "Not a day passed since I gained this power that I felt too weak to help you." Another kiss against the tender scar. "Not until now. Watching you suffer when the healers could do nothing for you made me feel like all this power was worthless." His nose pushed my shirt up higher as he kissed along my side, prickling my skin. "I didn't let my guard down for a moment after Malach marched into the temple." He slid my pants down and shifted to softly kiss the wound on my thigh next. A finger trailed the mark. The back of his knuckles. "I fought at my best." He turned his cheek against my leg and nuzzled his face against me. "Look at how far it was from good enough."

  I sat forward, slid my hands over his face, and tugged him up to me. Nash pushed up on his forearms and met my lips as I strained to reach him. "At least you kept your power."

  "I'll never let them hurt you like that again." Another kiss and his hand found my shoulder wound. "Never."

  "This is all we have," I said, palms gliding down his back. "We have each other and what we already gave. We're not invincible."

  "I don't care." Nash tugged my shirt over my head and pressed his forehead to that scar on my shoulder. "I only know that I will never let this happen again." He lowered me to my back and buried his face against me, working his arms around me to pull me closer. "I've had three lives to learn to master this power. Maybe if we just remember, we'll become more than anyone in a single life can defeat."

  "Then let's sleep and dream of those days long past."

  His hand felt so large against me with it clasping my side, taking up so much of my body. "Soon." Lips returned my scarred shoulder and strayed along my chilled skin, warming me until I melted like wax. I felt the kind of closeness to him that not even connecting brought, one deeper than uniting our minds and our powers. Being together couldn't ease this kind of loss, but it carried us through, tethering us together so neither of us was lost.

  I held onto Nash for dear life and gave all of myself to him, took all of him for myself, our bodies promising to connect too deeply to ever tear us apart.