Harmless clouds rolled in overhead. Gray, but lacking the threat of rain. Just thick enough to block out most of the sun. Her monument was unlike the simple tombstones that most deceased came to earn. An anonymous artist donated the custom marble slab, embellished with incredibly ornate blossoms and ivy. When Nicholai searched the donor’s card for a name, it was simply signed ‘One of the many who will weep for the loss of her’.
Granite approached the headstone, the others standing out of earshot. The marble caught the light in a calming way. Appropriate, he thought. The perfect homage. “Take good care of the beast for me,” he murmured, feeling far too vulnerable to raise his voice. “I don’t know anything about the afterlife, but if any two souls deserve to go to the same good place ...”
His words fell away. He found himself unable to finish. Granite swallowed. “Be at peace ...” The man took one final glimpse of her headstone before he turned and walked away, joining Revi where he stood several paces away.
Revi was quiet as the man approached. Granite glanced down at him, his voice deep. “Are you going to say anything?” he asked.
The Houton man clenched his teeth. He didn’t like goodbyes. He was just as bad with them now as he was when he first left his family in the middle of the night, with nary a word. For all the ways he had grown as an individual, farewells were not among them. “She knew how I felt ...”
Rennington spied Granite as he distanced himself from Umbriel’s plot. His eyes flicked to the monument and he, too, approached. The man was no stranger to cemetery visits. Though a sadness lived in his spirit, a serenity came from being in the presence of a headstone again. “Bartholomew wanted to be here,” he started, “but ... he’s bound to Southern, so ... I’m here on behalf of both of us.”
He took a step closer, his hands behind his back. “You were good stuff, Umbriel. The finest Earth Mother I ever met, I can honestly say.” He tried to smile at his joke, but it did not hold up. “Do me a favor, eh? Tell Iani he’s an asshole for me.” His smile returned, more candid this time. “Thanks. For everything.” Removing his glance from the stone, he let it fall to the ground. He couldn’t stare at it much longer—the tightness in his throat indicated as much. Rennington spun on his heels. He walked over to Granite, taking a stance beside him.
Walking up to Umbriel’s slab together, Brack and Penn stopped several feet before it. A warm wind ruffled the men’s clothing. Brack grinned, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hey, love. Brave thing you did for the quartermaster ... Cappy filled us in.” The small smile he wore faded away as his arms fell back to his sides. “I should’ve brought her to you first. Maybe then you’d still be here, huh?” He shook his head, his eyes on the ground. “Thought I was doing the right thing. Really feckin’ hard to know what that is, sometimes, isn’t it?”
He knew he’d receive no response. How could he? But asking in the form of questions ... it made it easier to pretend he might. Brack cleared his throat. “Anyway ... I’ll always remember our trip to the Unnamed.” The man managed to crack another grin, pointing a finger at the Earth Mother’s monument. “You tell that omnipotent bastard that It better treat you right in the afterlife, wherever the feck that is. If It doesn’t, I’ll come back and punch It with my good arm.” Rotating his stiff shoulder, Brack grinned. He reached out, tapping the headstone. “Rest easy, love.”
Penn watched as Brack distanced himself, joining Rennington and Granite beside the tree they stood near. He returned his focus to the headstone and crossed his arms. What did he say? Death was so ... uncomfortable. Kicking a small leaf near his feet, Penn muttered, “I thought I’d be giving this speech to someone else.” He raised his eyes, gazing at the gray and white marble. “Thanks ... for what you did for the quartermaster. Most people wouldn’t think she’s a life worth saving. What I liked about you most is ... you did.” He glanced over his shoulder, to be sure nobody was eavesdropping. Biting his bottom lip, Penn looked once more to the plot. “We’re all human garbage, but ... you liked us anyway. Treated us like something better.”
He felt himself getting teary. Penn couldn’t have that. Lifting his face to the sky, as if that would push the liquid that threatened to fall from them back into his eye sockets, Penn sighed. “Yeah. Anyway ... I’d say I’ll see you on the other side, but ... you’re probably going someplace way better than any of us are.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, and let the silence engulf him. After a moment, he turned and walked away.
When he was certain the others had received their moments, Nicholai approached. Kazuaki stood at his right, his posture rigid as he stared down at the tombstone. The two were quiet. They had not yet touched on the details of Kazuaki’s resurgence. Umbriel’s funeral seemed far more important.
A stillness lived around her grave. It was peaceful but still uncomfortable to look at. Kazuaki stole a glimpse of Nicholai from the corner of his eye. “For what it’s worth,” he said, drawing his shoulders back, “this was not the outcome I wanted.”
Nicholai nodded. He knew the captain carried guilt with him. If there was anything Nicholai Addihein knew how to pluck from a crowd, it was the sentiment of blame. “I know.”
Kazuaki tried to read the man but came back with nothing. He turned his eye back to the Earth Mother’s grave. “She was ... something else.”
Nicholai nodded again. It was all he knew to do. “She was.”
His words were filled with an agony he did not wear on his face. It made Kazuaki lift his chin and sweep his fingers through the strands of black hair that fell over his face. “Nico ... I know it doesn’t mean much, but ... I believe she did what she thought was right.”
“Of course you would think that, Kazuaki.” Nicholai stared at the cold marble, his tone absent of any emotion. “She saved the woman you love.”
The words carried a sting. It was nothing the captain faulted him for. Grieving men uttered anguished words. “I know she did it to save Bermuda,” he explained, turning his head away, “but ... I think she also did it to save me.”
Nicholai’s brows fell over his eyes. He lifted his head, glancing at the captain. “How’s that?”
Kazuaki tightened his jaw. “She knew that you were strong enough to survive losing the love of your life. She saw you survive it once already. But me ...” The thought of losing Bermuda made his muscles tense. Kazuaki gritted his teeth together, the horizon blurring as his eye lost focus. “I think she knew that was a battle you could win ... and I could not.”
Nicholai allowed the statement to settle into him. He thought, perhaps if he gave it some time, he might know what to say. No matter how many seconds ticked by, he still found himself at a loss for words.
With a rigid spine, Kazuaki turned away. He spied Bermuda in the distance, separate from the others. She leaned against the trunk of a tree, her eyes on Umbriel’s grave. The captain glanced at Nicholai, his face unreadable. “I’ll give you some time.” He stepped away, closing the distance between himself and the quartermaster.
Kazuaki felt the stiffness in her aura far before she was within arm’s reach. A survivor’s guilt of sorts. She carried it with her since Umbriel died, lifting it straight out of the Addihein household and chaining it to her chest. He wanted to reach out and touch her. Comfort her. But his new omnipotent status afforded him certain abilities that took getting used to. Each touch brought a piece of knowledge with it. An insight into her mind. It not only felt like an invasion of Bermuda’s privacy, but the woman’s thoughts were not forgiving as of late. It was difficult for Kazuaki to feel the hatred she had for herself.
Leaning his back against the same tree trunk, Kazuaki crossed his arms. “How are you?” he asked, his tone somehow both soft and rough.
Bermuda couldn’t tear her eyes away from Umbriel’s monument. She could scarcely blink. “I feel awful, Kazuaki ...”
Her statement was worn-down. Faded. It made a concerned frown take over Kazuaki’s face. He wished to take it all away but had no idea where to start. “
If ever I decided to trade my life away to save another, I would not wish others to mourn for me. I would only wish for them to respectfully accept the decision I made. Our lives are our own to do with what we will. Umbriel made her choice, Bermuda.”
“Yes,” the woman replied, unyielding. “The first terrible decision I ever saw that woman make.”
Kazuaki honed his eye on her, his brows pulling in. What did he say? Comfort was not in his skill set, and yet it was all he wanted to give her. At a loss for words, he cleared his throat. “Are you going to be all right?”
Her lips pinched together. She closed her eyes, blocking out the sight of Umbriel’s tombstone for the first time since she arrived at the funeral. “I have to be,” she murmured. “Otherwise, her sacrifice will have been for nothing.”
Nicholai continued to stare at the monument, still trying to convince himself that she was truly gone. He startled when a hand fell onto his shoulder. Spinning, Malcolm filled his vision.
“I’m ... going to head back to the greenhouse, son.” Malcolm drew his arm back, his gaze darted about, unable to find a safe spot to land. “I’m sorry.”
“Did you want to say goodbye?” Nicholai asked, gesturing toward Umbriel’s final resting place. “I could give you a moment—”
“No.” Malcolm’s answer was swift. Certain. “I’m ...” He postured, shaking his head. “I’m not quite there yet.” Burying his daughter was hard enough. Burying the woman he had mentally and emotionally adopted as one of his own ... it was too much. “I’m sorry.”
Nicholai reached out, squeezing his arm. “It’s all right, Malcolm. I understand.”
“Right ...” Malcolm sighed, nodding. “Right ...” At a loss for words, he peeled himself away, returning to the greenhouse. Back to the lilac bush that Umbriel had gifted to him. It would be all the more special now, to sit before the fragrant blossoms.
A stillness filled the space when Malcolm made his departure. Windswept leaves scattered around the feet of those who remained. Nicholai lifted his hands, cracking his knuckles. He did not know what else to do with himself. It seemed too soon to leave her here ... too soon to say goodbye ...
It was with some fortune that he was not left alone with his thoughts for long. Approaching the small band of people who remained before the marble slab, a man appeared, donned in military-issued Eastern attire. He exchanged glances with those who stood, an inquisitive brow arched over his sun-kissed face. “Excuse me,” he announced, taking another step forward, “is this the funeral of Umbriel Dasyra?”
Nicholai dissected the status of his wardrobe. A footman, no doubt. A soldier of Eastern. A strange character to find at Umbriel’s funeral, then again, some had come from farther distances. “It is,” he informed, finding the stranger’s eyes. “And you are?”
The soldier straightened his back, his arms stiff at his sides. “My name is Wulfgang Hion. I’ve just come from Southern after a consult with Bartholomew Gray.” He glanced back and forth between the small collection of people, his voice somehow both authoritative and uncertain. “He said I should come here to carry respects. He said ... it was something that Elowyn Saveign would have wanted.”
A pulsation of rigidity spilled through the crowd. Rennington tore himself away from the others, taking a step forward. His eyes narrowed, and his head tilted. “What the feck did you just say?”
“Elowyn,” Wulfgang reiterated, lifting his chin as Rennington approached. “The Time Mother of Eastern.”
“Oh, I know who the feck she is, mate.” Rennington’s voice danced on breathlessness as he drew nearer to the soldier. “What do you know of Elowyn Saveign? Is she alive?”
“She was when I last saw her,” Wulfgang muttered, lifting a hand to scratch his cheek. “She’s been in hiding for a year. She set the stage to cure Eastern’s people from falling prey to the gods. I’ve traveled to Southern for her when she heard of Kazuaki Hidataka’s death,” he explained, his attention flicking to the one man in the area who exuded a godly presence. “I was supposed to bring my condolences for him, but ...” The focus he had on Kazuaki shifted to one of suspicion. “Bartholomew told me that was no longer an issue.”
A rise in the speed of Rennington’s heart gave away the man’s elation. He tried to form several words, but none made it passed his lips. It wasn’t until he collected himself entirely that he sputtered, “Where is she?”
Wulfgang drew away from the enthusiastic man and shrugged. “Taking her rightful place as Time Mother again, I hope. Can’t be any worse than the feckers that’ve been trying to run the division since she disappeared.”
Nicholai laid a hand over his chest. Relief filled him. Elowyn was all right. One less body to add to the growing pile of the near and dear they had already lost. His eyes fell to a close. “I am thankful she’s all right,” he announced, his hand sliding down his chest and back to his side. He forced his eyes open, finding Wulfgang’s focus. “But hopefully, she does not get too comfortable as Time Mother ...”
The statement earned the confused stares of the crew. Rennington cocked his head to the side, his eyes narrowing. “What the feck does that mean?”
Without hesitation, Nicholai adjusted his vest. “It means mankind cannot handle the allure that kind of power brings. It means I will no longer allow it to exist. No longer allow it to have the chance of falling into the wrong hands.” Hands such as those of the past Time Fathers, who slaughtered all the Earth Mothers. Hands like Ganther, who wanted that supreme authority for himself. Or Darjal, who used it to turn himself into a god. Or Nordjan, who abused it far too many times. Or even hands like his own. He had betrayed his people. Froze Southeastern’s time. Risked not only the quality of their lives but the structural integrity of Panagea, itself. “I’m going to Eastern to give the Chronometer back to the gods,” he explained. “Then I will travel to Southern to retrieve Bartholomew’s. Then Northeastern to get Aggi’s. Northern, to get Nordjan’s.”
Brack frowned, separating himself from the others to approach Nicholai. “What of Northwestern, mate? You’ll never find Vadim.”
Revi lifted his gaze. He found Nicholai’s attention, his eyes dark. “I think I could help you with that ...”
“And Southwestern,” Penn interrupted, shaking his head. “Emont has been missing for a long time. It’ll be impossible to find him.”
Nicholai’s gaze looked blank as he stared beyond the others. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll find him. I’ll find the Chronometers. Power over time ... it just shouldn’t exist.”
It was the lifelessness in Nicholai’s eyes that raised suspicion in Kazuaki. The god peeled his back off the tree trunk, straightening himself. “Umbriel’s grave is still fresh, Nico. Take a moment before running headlong into this.”
The former Time Father looked at the ground. At his shoes. In the darkness of the moment, he coerced a small smile to appear on his face. “No time like the present,” he whispered, drawing in a deep breath before he lifted his head. “I am no longer bound to Southeastern. Decisions will fall to the people. They are not as fragile as other division leaders thought them to be.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, shifting his focus between those who surrounded him. “They know their own lives better than anyone else ... they can seek direction from the town mayors, or elect another who prefers leadership roles to act as their voice, but they no longer need to bow to a supreme authority.”
His announcement birthed quiet. The crew exchanged glances with one another, each searching for something to say. Not unlike peace in the tumultuous moment, the right words were hard to find.
Wulfgang blinked, staring at the others with mild apathy. “Look ... I just got here. It’s been a long trip. All I ask for is a quick meal, and if you’re serious,” he said, making eye contact with Nicholai, “I’ll escort you to Shroudmond to see Elowyn.”
A stroke of luck. Though he knew the way, Nicholai found the offer came with a warmth. The first ray of goodness to shine down on him in a long time. He offe
red Wulfgang a dim smile. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” Wulfgang muttered. “I can’t say I approve of her methods, but Elowyn worked damn hard for her peoples’ safety. I’ll take you to her, but if she doesn’t want to give up the Chronometer”—he paused, his expression reflecting no nonsense—“as a soldier of Eastern, I’m duty-bound to cast you out of there if she bids it to be done.”
Though Wulfgang’s words were stern, they invited a laugh to leap from Rennington’s throat. He thumbed to the Eastern soldier, snorting. “This guy. I like him already. You’ll fit in fine with us, mate.”
Brack tilted his head, scratching at his mutton chops. “When are you leaving?” he asked, his eyes on Nicholai.
Without hesitation, the former Time Father turned. “Tonight.” He gestured toward Wulfgang. “Right after we feed our guide, of course.”
Revi corrected his stooped posture, rolling his shoulders behind him. “I’ll come. Someone’s got to show you where to find Vadim.” The man was not eager to return to the crazed lunatic that was Vadim Canmore ... but entering Northwestern again ... it afforded him another opportunity to keep an eye open for Avigail. Tearing himself away from the division to attend Umbriel’s funeral was nearly impossible. He jumped at the opportunity to go back ... though the more that time past, the more he wondered if what the Northwestern Time Father said about ‘letting things go’ was correct.
No. It couldn’t be. That man was insane.
“I’ll come,” Granite said, summoning all eyes toward him. His thoughts drifted to Southwestern. “I think I might like to see a division filled with animals instead of people.”
“And,” Rennington interjected, “if you’re going back to Southern at some point anyway ... you know I’m in.”
Their willingness to accompany him helped fill the cavernous hole in his chest. It brought a smile to Nicholai’s face. He nodded to each who offered his assistance before turning his attention to Kazuaki. He stepped up before the god, squaring his shoulders. “Only a god can destroy the Chronometers ...”
The Panagea Tales Box Set Page 127