Page 110 of Of Sockets Of Stitches
And now I stared at where they had lived in death, only to find them stone.
Yes, my soul was heavy and weary.
I kissed Mother’s cheek and murmured a greeting to Cassandra. As I did, I considered that they were likely next—that they would be gone soon as well.
Pain speared my chest, and I took a step toward the tower, only to see King See watching me from the very top. Too much noise tonight. I might tune out my body, but there were feelings to be felt.
I wished for quiet.
Turning on my heel, I fell back through hellebores. Minions and humans clawed at me on the other side, and I blasted them back with more force than usual. I was not in the mood for human extinction.
I floated into my throne room, pushing my power outward until the minions and humans in there were forced into the courtyard.
Hellebores were quick to frame me upon a throne.
Grief.
I must marvel again at the gift of the haze, for if I held any doubt around my reason for being, then losing mothers might have broken me for several days put together. But I could sit with this loss for an hour to regain clarity and regain peace between the various aspects of self.
I closed my eyes and drew forth their names, one by one. So few left. I drew forth their faces next, and then replayed the battles of the mothers that I had personally witnessed. Next, I invented the battles of the six mothers who had spontaneously departed, as if I were by their sides. Each battle was as unique as each mother.
Each mother left with peace in her soul.
Warmth started to replace the hollow pain in my chest. There was no alternative to this, I reminded myself. Mothers were the most accepting of all. If they had not been, the world would be in ruin.
But their sacrifices… “We are winning,” I whispered to them in my heart. Or perhaps they could hear.
The scales had tipped to saving. We could win.
I felt such fear. To see such miracles of life with each battle won, to draw closer and closer to The Beginning. Stakes had never been higher, or my hopes either. So much to lose.
And loss would be as quick and lacking in goodbyes as losing six mothers had been tonight.
I had not ever properly considered the loss of my own existence while healing the world of ruin. The dire moments of healing the Brings’ seam might have been my last. See would have survived me a time, but I would never have confessed the fullness of what we shared. Nor to pawns or simple monsters.
More hope filled me than ever.
Such fears drove me to speak words of goodbye.
Minions screeched, and humans shrieked and moaned as aforce batted them back from the grave. See walked in their midst, unperturbed by their extinction too.
“Perantiqua, your thoughts are heavy. Sadness clothes you this hour,” See said.
He walked to take the seat beside mine, which had entirely escaped my notice. See had a seat at the right of my throne. A queen could only assume that he was meant to sit there, in a saved world, to hear the reports of pawns and to give his interpretation and advice on matters of queendom.
“I am clothed by sadness,” I admitted.
“A great number of mothers have immortalized themselves in stone.” He did not face me.
We both stared out at the minions and humans pressed against my power to get in.
I sighed. “Yes, more than I chose. And that is inevitable but painful, and there is no other that I could fathom battling this great evil but them.”
My prince consort said, “No other could be half as certain and fierce and self-sacrificing.”
No one.
His voice softened. “No one but you.”
