Chapter 52
“The bond of soul to soul is not broken by death,
but the weight of separation will hollow even the strongest spirit.”
- The Old Book
When I opened my eyes, I was no longer at the facility—I was somewhere else entirely.
The vast room around me had walls painted the deep blue of midnight, stretching endlessly upward into a swirling mist of darkness.
There was no ceiling, only the delicate spirals of shadows high above.
Gentle, golden light emanated from unseen sources at the corners of the room, warm and comforting—entirely different from the stark glare of the facility.
This atmosphere calmed my restless spirit.
“Where am I?” I asked quietly, to no one in particular.
“The in-between,” came a silky voice.
Turning sharply, I saw a stranger seated upon a throne of black and gold.
He sat with his legs elegantly crossed, hands clasped neatly atop one knee.
His features were striking—tall, lean, with wavy black hair combed into a perfect pompadour.
His skin held a warm, golden-bronze glow, exuding an aura that made me pause.
He was divine. The truth of it was in his obsidian eyes, the void of death.
Anam.
“Though some call it the veil,” he added.
I had heard stories and seen depictions of the beauty of gods. But they paled in comparison to reality. Anam was stoic, radiating power and a sense of peace. The kind of peace I had felt only moments prior, when I thought I had closed my eyes for the last time.
“Am I dead?” The moment the words left my lips, embarrassment washed over me. If I were with Anam, the conclusion should have been obvious.
“Yes—and no,” he said while studying me, eyes glittering with intrigue.
“What does that mean?”
“It means your mortal body has ceased to sustain life, yet your soul remains here temporarily.” Anam tilted his head slightly, considering me as if I were a fascinating puzzle.
“I don’t understand.”
I didn’t feel dead, but I could also recognize that something was different. The feeling of sickness I had was gone. I felt neutral.
“I suppose you wouldn’t.” Anam’s eyes glinted as they shifted to just over my shoulder.
The sound of wind rustling and gentle footsteps approaching caught my attention. A voice, achingly familiar yet untouched by time, spoke faintly from the shadows. “You always were stubborn, Mavis.”
I froze at the sound of a voice I never thought I would hear again. Tentatively, I turned around, my eyes rimmed with ghostly tears.
“Willam?” I whispered, hardly daring to believe the sight before me.
He stood there, preserved exactly as I remembered him—thirteen, eyes full of warmth, dark hair tousled as if by an unseen breeze. A small, delicate smile curved his lips as he regarded me fondly.
“Mavis.” He stepped forward cautiously, as if he were afraid to spook me. His body may have been thirteen, but his presence was much older. “I’ve missed you.”
My knees weakened, and tears spilled unchecked down my cheeks. “I never stopped looking for you. All these years… I hoped you were alive, that someday we’d find each other.”
His eyes eased further, sorrow blending with tenderness.
“I know, but I wasn’t meant to make it. When the Veilers took me, I knew I wouldn’t see you again, but I didn't want to leave you. I prayed to Our Lady—not to save myself—but to save you.”
Anam’s voice came softly from behind us, respectful of our reunion. “My sister granted your brother’s wish, tethering his spirit to yours, allowing him to watch over you, and protect you until your journey reached this moment.”
Realization washed over me. The comforting voice so similar to my own, the shivers—it had always been Willam. “The voice I heard… that was you?”
“I didn’t want you to feel so alone. However, exposing my presence outright could have altered your future, so I stayed hidden—secretly guiding you on your path. I’m sorry it was one of loss and bloodshed, but you were strong.”
“That’s not true.” I frowned, remembering every moment of weakness I had.
“Yes, it is. It's you who carried on after I was taken, taking care of mother. You were brave, hunting for food when you needed to. You even got a job as a tanner.”
“An apprentice,” I corrected.
“See, stubborn,” Willam said, rolling his eyes. “My point is, when the situation demanded something of you, you rose to the occasion.”
“I couldn’t save father,” I whispered, my heart breaking on the admission.
“That is not your burden to bear,” Anam declared from his throne. “Do not mourn the death of a soul that was not yours to save. You have no say in when the threads are cut.”
Anam was right, even though it was hard to acknowledge. The years I’d spent mourning—my life, and the ones I’d lost—had taken enough from me. I had been holding on to far too much, for far too long. Nothing could erase my grief, but maybe it didn’t need to disappear entirely.
Maybe it was enough that I made peace with what I couldn’t change.
“Why did you ask to protect me?” I asked Willam.
“Because you’re my sister,” he said, as if it were that simple, “and because I foresaw your future.”
“You… you were a seer?”
He grinned.
“I saw the future—one where you shone like a star. And I saw what I needed to do to get you there.”
“Wait,” I paused, “were you the one sending me visions?”
Willam nodded. “By being tethered to you, I could share my gift. I apologize only for all the close encounters with death that I couldn’t prevent.”
“Oh, Willam, I could never be mad at you.” I reached out, desperate to embrace him, but stopped just inches away. “Can I…”
He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around me. Warmth flooded my spirit, familiar and comforting. I sobbed into his shoulder, holding onto him as though he might vanish again.
“You’ve been so strong, Mavis,” Willam said, stroking my hair reassuringly. “I’m so proud of you. But now, it’s time for me to move on.”
“No—please stay,” I begged weakly, gripping tighter.
“I can’t,” he murmured, leaning back just enough to meet my eyes. “I’ve done what I was meant to do. You’ve grown into someone incredible. Someone important.”
“What happens now?” My voice trembled.
“I finally get to rest. And you,” he smiled, “have an even greater destiny waiting.”
“No,” I whimpered, covering my hands over my mouth to keep myself from sobbing.
It was Anam who spoke next.
“It is time. His body has been long buried, and so he should never have stayed in the realm of the living. That was a decision my sister did not have the right to make. His name belongs to me, and his soul mine to judge.” Anam’s commanding voice left no room for argument.
Willam stepped back, his form growing translucent. “We never really say goodbye. We just find each other again in different ways.”
A silent sob escaped as he faded peacefully into the surrounding darkness, his presence lingering warmly before finally disappearing completely.
I stood there, feeling both hollow and filled with profound peace.
Anam’s voice broke the silence. “He has crossed over into the Realm of Remembrance. But your journey, Mavis Ashbone, is just beginning.”
I wiped my tears and shifted my gaze back to Anam. He still sat on his throne, observing.
“What do I do now?”
“I have judged your soul as well, and I deem you worthy.”
“Worthy of what?”
“Of something countless others have sought—and perished for.”
With a graceful gesture, Anam raised an open palm, and before me, a door materialized out of thin air. It was slightly ajar, with warm light spilling from its edges. A profound sense of purpose emanated from beyond it, calling to my soul. It was inviting yet intimidating.
“Of course,” Anam continued, voice deceptively calm, “you have a choice. If you would prefer to follow your brother, that path is available to you as well.”
The air felt charged, crackling around me. I stared at the door, feeling instinctively that whatever lay beyond it was significant—possibly dangerous, certainly transformative. My fingertips tingled as I reached hesitantly toward the smooth golden handle.
“What’s on the other side?” I murmured.
Anam’s eyes glinted knowingly, but he imparted no more information.
Swallowing my fear, I opened the door wider, the white light enveloping me like a gentle embrace. I felt strangely certain I was making the right choice.
I thought of Rowan’s tears. Of his vow. Of the world I might leave behind. But I had to believe this step wasn’t an ending, only a beginning.
“Mavis,” Anam spoke once more, drawing my attention. I glanced back at him over my shoulder. “When you meet my sister, tell her this: one more soul meddled with, and I’ll come calling.”
Despite myself, I smiled at the Reaper of Souls. Turning forward, I took a deep breath and stepped confidently into the unknown, embracing whatever destiny awaited me.