The Rising (The Rising #4) - Kristen Ashley Page 0,157

the sun was journeying to The Mystics.

Mars heard Faunus’s murmured words floating up to him, and he knew Silence did too with the way her hold on him strengthened.

“How do I live in a world without him?”

“You do it knowing he refused for there to be a world without you,” Saturn replied.

Mars closed his eyes.

He opened them when Silvanus shouted, “He will always be remembered!”

“He will always be remembered!” the Zees cried.

“To Our Brother Golden Hair!” Silvanus yelled.

“To Our Brother Golden Hair!” the rest of them bellowed.

And it was then, Elena put her fingers to her lips, floated them out, her lips pursed like she was blowing a kiss.

And a rainbow shot out of the Mouth of Triton shafting all the way into forever.

154

The Aftermath

The People of Mar-el

Nautilus

MAR-EL

It was solemn when true night fell, the heralds rode, the call of victory proclaimed, and the citizens of Nautilus who had survived the Battle of the Beasts came out of hiding and made their way to the Great Beach.

Over time, it would become known great sacrifices had been made of the rulers of Triton to save them from the fall of the dark times.

But many felt it was Queen Ha-Lah who had to do the worst.

For even after the demons were dispatched, their venom continued to infect the ones it had touched, and they wandered, imprisoned by their own minds, mindlessly harming themselves…and others.

All the kings and all the kings’ men rounded them up and gathered them on the beach.

And the fire of the dragons kept them there.

And the people understood why the decision was made that their ash would not mingle with the sand of shore.

They understood why it was decided they’d nurture the beasts of the sea.

And thus, the people of Nautilus watched as their queen, their Ha-Lah stood beside her husband and the other rulers atop a cliff to the south, and she raised her arms.

To a great gasp from her onlookers, she then caused the tidal that swept the poor, lost souls to peace in the depths of the sea.

But Ha-Lah did not feel peace in the doing.

She turned and collapsed in her king’s arms.

It was after they were all gone, when slowly, the peoples made their way, under the blanket of night sky and stars, to the sand.

Those who lived deeper into the rocks, hearing as word swept swiftly across the land, journeyed to Nautilus and walked the empty streets, gravitating toward the gathering, joining their brethren and sistren on the beach.

Wood was brought to build fires.

And the people of Mar-el sat about them on their shore, their eyes to the sea.

No one knew who first started the hum of mourning.

But all joined in, gazing into the waters, contemplating what was lost, what was gained, their fortune that they were still living, and their vows to continue to do it and do that well.

The hum rose up the cliffs to the rulers, who stayed amongst them, watching.

It rose up farther, to the heavens.

There wasn’t a great amount of surprise when, well out to sea, the mighty beasts broke the waves.

One, two, five, three dozen, the whales rising up and crashing back into the sea, sharing the lament, the dolphins joining them, bursting from the waves and arcing back in, in a watery dance of grief.

But even with the spectacle, the humming did not stop.

As the people of the sea and the sea beasts shared their sorrow.

Even in victory, their king proclaimed that day forever to be the Day of Great Mourning for all who were taken from Airen, Wodell, the Nadirii, and on their own shores. For the gnomes, the pixies, the sprites, the Zees and the Mystics who were lost in the fight.

And for a man named Tedrey.

It was not only Aramus, but Cassius, Elena, True and Mars who proclaimed in their lands that day would be a day never forgotten.

There would never be a time, for centuries, millennia, when the day Triton rose again and was reunited with his Medusa, that day where so much was lost to cement what had been gained, when mothers and fathers, grandmothers and grandfathers, teachers and storytellers did not share the tale behind why there was a Day of Great Mourning.

Why, on that day, no one in any land of Triton toiled.

Why, on that day, all remembered the ones who were lost.

Or their own lost mothers.

Or fathers.

Aunts.

And uncles.

Brothers.

Or sisters.

Friends.

And lovers.

And onward from that horrible, victorious day, the people of Mar-el were glad to welcome the people of Airen. Of