87. Cairns and pale petals

[Reader warning: This chapter deals with death and grief]

It had started off with Ada forewarning Min that she would be disappearing from the Stone Circle for a short while in order to see Raeph. To her surprise, Min had demanded that she wanted to go up to Wysthaven too, as she was sick of the dreary darkness deep beneath the city. Of course, Armestrong wouldn't let her go alone.  And then Lark must've visited the infirmary sometime in the evening, for when Ada woke and prepared to leave the dining chamber, she found not only Lark, but Solen and Diane also ready with their boots on and knives stashed.

The five fae were now gathered around Ada at the base of the copper ladder and, despite her weak attempts, couldn't be dissuaded to stay with the Stone Circle. Still, Ada climbed the ladder up to Wysthaven first. Next came Min, with Armestrong close on her heels. The older woman had vowed to not let Min out of her sight until she was certain the girl had recovered, and even then, Ada doubted she would ever be too far away. Diane came after that, leaning in to help haul up Lark. He had insisted that he didn't need help and, after hooking his elbow around each rung, had climbed without pause. He continued to pretend that Solen hadn't been supporting him the entire way up as she hoisted herself through the compass.

Solen dramatically stretched her arms, earning a glare from Lark that had her breaking into giggles. Ada smiled too, standing a little way off so that she could watch her friends stand together, finally, in complete peace. The air above her shifted, and then Raeph had dropped down at her side, trapping her under a narrow eaving. Without hesitation, she grabbed the lapels of his shirt and pressed a kiss against his lips. He gasped into her mouth, hot surprise, and then his arms were around her waist and she was pinned between his body and the wall.

Lark's whistle broke them apart and Raeph glared over his shoulder. He was breathing a little harder than he had upon his landing when he gruffly said, "I wasn't aware you were planning on bringing an audience along to our tryst."

"Tryst?" Ada gaped, unable to think with the blood rushing to her face.

A sly smile curled Raeph's lips and he leaned down, teeth tracing her ear before he murmured, "But if that is what you desire..."

He let his insinuation linger long enough for Ada scrambled away, now the one whose breath was coming heavier. Raeph laughed as she cursed, her face burning brighter still at the sight of Diane with her eyebrow raised and Solen looking positively gleeful.

"No need to be shy, Ada," Solen purred. "Diane and I have had to get a little creative ourselves after being stuck in that very large, very public chamber."

"Oh hush, all of you!" scolded Armestrong, her hands seeming stuck on whether to cover Min's eyes or ears.

"And don't act like Ada is the only one holding all your affection," said Lark, talking over Armestrong. "We know we'll always have a special spot in that cold, black heart of yours, Raeph."

Raeph's smile faded then, and Ada watched his eyes swim deep and vast. He was looking at Lark's bandaged wrist, then at the bones pointing a little too sharply beneath Solen's collar. He sucked in a tight breath, at the same moment as Lark and Solen, and then they all took two quick steps into the courtyard. The trio embraced, their arms wrapped together and holding one another close. Behind them, Armestrong wiped a small tear from her cheek.

Before beginning to cry herself, Solen wiggled out from between the two men and said with a sniff, "Look, just because the city's been burnt to rubble, doesn't mean we have to turn all soft and mopey. We actually came up here to get things done."

Raeph snorted and turned to raise an eyebrow at Ada.

She gave him a small smile. "We want to go and see whatever's left of the Este Lyceum."

Raeph's eyes widened in surprise, and then he turned, as if seeing Min for the first time. After a heartbeat, he nodded and said gravely, "Yes, I think that you should see it."

Then, he crouched down until he could look Min in the eyes, far enough away that she could ignore him if she wanted, but near enough that he could speak to her directly. With his head bowed to her, he looked the perfect knight kneeling with pride and dignity.

"May I escort you there?" Raeph asked, clearly trying to speak softly, though his low voice still rumbled in his chest.

Min simply stared at him, and Ada thought she was about to turn away entirely. But then she slowly nodded.

Raeph rose, calm and solemn. The bandits had fallen silent, and there was no laughter as they walked into the ruins of Wysthaven. Stained windows had been shattered from top to sill, and their shards were strewn across the street like discarded trinkets. The once gleaming cobbles were smeared with ashen footprints, and the sandstone walls were pocked and pitted from the Stone Circle's alchemy. When they crossed the bridge into the outer city, Ada dared not look down into the waters for fear of what might be floating there.

Most eerie was the silence, which seemed to press the bandits closer together as they walked toward the lyceum. At the ends of streets or silhouetted against doorways, Ada thought she saw the shapes of fae, but they moved like ghosts through their ravaged neighbourhoods. The lyceum eventually rose up before them like a titan in a labyrinth, its pillars still standing, but strange and solitary without a roof to support. The cobbles leading up to it were pale, and at first, Ada thought the ground was still blanketed in ash.

As they approached the lyceum, she saw that it was strewn in a soft whiteness. But it was as if snow, not ash, had freshly fallen through the space left by the collapsed roof. It seemed a spring miracle before Ada and Min stepped inside and found that the ground was rather covered by hundreds upon thousands of flower petals, each the purest white of cotton clouds. They were thick upon the floor and mounded up around the remaining pillars. All of the Hounds' chains had been torn down and discarded, and the burnt wreckage had been cleared away.

"How?" Ada gasped.

"The cityfolk," Raeph replied. "After the fighting finished, many of them came down into the streets from where they had hidden themselves, some looking for their families, others just to see what remained. More and more came together when they saw the wreckage, and they helped to clear away glass and mend broken homes. In places like this, where the ruin was too great, they cleaned the debris and... made something new."

Raeph waved his hand over the flowers at his feet. Indeed, there was no evidence at all of the atrocities that had occurred there, apart from eight cairns that had been built from the lyceum's rubble. Their stones were intricately balanced, soft and grey, unlike the blackened pillars rising above them. Though with the pale petals sticking to the stones, and the faded frescos still traceable beneath their charring, the pillars looked less burnt than baring the shadows of the cairns. Shadows of the fae they commemorated, and the shades of their lives that were still enshrined in memory and mind.

The cairns were padded around with offerings, one with its stone threaded through with feathers, another piled with bright fruits all sweetly scented. It was easy to find Florentin, as his cairn had been braided with lavender and sage, frothing elderflowers and buttery yellow dandelions. Min stood in the spot where his caravan had last been tethered, either having burnt to ash or its ruins removed. She was swaying slightly, the petals around her feet gathering in a faint breeze. Her father's cairn reached up to her shoulders, and she was so close she could have touched it, but her hands remained lost in the folds of her oversized dress. Ada came quietly to her side and, without a word, she held out her palm. Min's small fingers were trembling, and when Ada gave them a soft squeeze, a whimper came whispering from the girl's lips.

"Why did he have to go so soon?" Min said. "It's not fair."

Ada's heart broke. Because it wasn't fair; nothing she had seen in Wysthaven had been fair, but especially that which had happened to Min and her father. For them to have been parted so viciously, with Min's mother already gone, was like no tragedy Ada had ever before had to witness. So she fell to her knees and gathered Min against her chest, holding her as if even a fraction of Florentin's love could be captured between her arms. Her eyes were blurred with tears, and purple lavender swam between sunny dandelions.

"We're like flowers," Ada said, soft and almost unthinking. "A flower grows from the earth and it sprouts petals, bright and beautiful, but also small and delicate. It feels the sun and the wind, and is admired by those growing around it, just as it admires them. But it cannot continue growing forever. Eventually, its petals must fall away so that they can return to the earth from which the other flowers will grow. Although it may not look like a flower any longer, every part of it is still present in the earth; where it came from and where it was always meant to return. And even if it's gone, we can still remember the flower it once was. And we can think about all the joy it brought us as we grew alongside it."