Page 60 of Winter Goddess

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“Is she dead?” Angus asks before anyone else can say something. “The demons suddenly stopped fighting. We weren’t sure if it’s a trick or not.”

“Yes, she’s dead,” I say, smiling. I rub my eyes, unable to believe that we didn’t just defeat the Morrigan, but that I also got my old vision back. I’ll be able to see them properly again. Look into their eyes. Admire their faces.

I feel free for the first time in ages. Despite all the work that still needs doing, a massive weight has been lifted from my shoulders. The Morrigan is dead. My mothers have been avenged.

Now, we can finally live in peace.

Epilogue

One week later

Iwish I could say that we all just went home and had a cup of tea. No, there was still work to do. Some of the demons didn’t lay down their weapons, and neither did some of the Morrigan’s allies. While we’d been busy fighting her clone, she’d called her allied Gods and they came with their armies. The battle raged for two days until the last God was defeated. There were losses on both sides, but not as heavy as they could have been had the Morrigan still been there to control her demons.

Algonquin died in battle, killed by a higher demon who’d crept up on him from behind. Ever since we got back, Zephyr has been locked inside his chambers, refusing to open the door even for me. I’ve decided to let him grieve in peace while making sure he knows I’m there to support him. Luckily, he’s been the only one of my close allies who died. Some are wounded, including Gwain who is nursing an injury to his back that almost killed him, but Crispin says they’ll all recover.

All in all, we really have achieved a victory. Most of the husbands and wives of those who fought in the battle were able to welcome home their loved ones.

Dewi is mourning several of her dragons, and I’ve promised to attend the official mourning ceremony in her Realm soon. First though, there’s a funeral here that I need to go to.

Beira is being cremated today and I’m so not ready. There was no body when my mum died, so I see it as the funeral for both of my mothers, by birth and adoption. How blessed was I to have two mums, even if I didn’t always see it like that. I wish I’d had more time to spend with Beira. The memories in my mind sometimes make it feel like she’s talking to me from beyond the veil, but I know that isn’t really her. Still, the knowledge that I’m carrying a part of her within me helps with the grief.

“She’d be so proud of you.”

Tamara enters the room, wearing a black dress similar to my own. A silver snowflake brooch rests above her bosom, a sign of her love for Beira. The crown weighs heavily on my head, another reminder that I’m on my own now. No mother to hold my hand and guide me. I have my Council and my advisors, but it’s not the same. Tamara is the only one of them who understands me completely. Ada, too, but she’s left for the Dragon Realm, saying she’s got some unfinished business there. Two of her men were injured in the battle, but Crispin managed to heal them pretty quickly. They won’t even be left with scars.

Not physical ones, anyway. I think most of us carry an assortment of mental scars. Seeing the blood, the dying, the cruelty of the demons; it all leaves a trace. I’ve been having nightmares, but having the Guardians with me makes them better. I’ve kept them close, not letting them stray too far from me. The fear of losing them now that the battle is over is irrational, I know that, but I can’t help it. They are fine with my clinginess though, especially at night.

I smile when I think of yesterday evening, how we all ended up on the floor, our limbs entwined, our souls connected by kisses and gentle touches. I did say I’d lock myself into my chambers with them to have some alone time, but there’s too much to do. There are going to be trials against those who allied with the Morrigan. Negotiations with Angus will start soon to draw up new contracts that will ensure no more war between our Realms. There might even be trade agreements. I don’t think I’ll ever be friends with Angus, but for the moment, he seems content to stick to his own Realm and keep the balance. Dewi has helped a lot with that. She’s not just his step-daughter, but also a Goddess who’s part of our quartet of seasons. She gives him two reasons to not start a war again any time soon.

“We should go,” Tamara reminds me gently and I turn to her, nodding. I need to be strong now. Half the Realm has assembled to bid their Mother farewell, and I’ll be the one to light the pyre. It’s an old-fashioned ceremony, not at all like a funeral on Earth, but the memories and knowledge Beira endowed me with will hopefully guide me through it.

“I’m ready.”

I’m not, but let’s pretend I am.

I take her hand and teleport us onto Bald Peak, a low but wide hill not far from the Palace. Thousands of people are assembled here, forming concentric circles around the large wooden funeral pyre. On it, Beira’s remains are wrapped in a golden cloth, embroidered with tiny silver snowflakes. Most people are wearing snowflake brooches to honour not just Beira, but all the dead of the Winter Realm. She may be the one on the pyre, but we’re remembering all the battle’s victims today.

I take my place in front of the pyre, where my father and my Guardians are already waiting for me. They’re wearing black suits, even Arc. This may be the first time I’ve seen him without a kilt.

“You okay?” Crispin asks and I nod, my eyes fixed on the pyre. I don’t want to look at the crowd and meet anyone’s eyes. The other Gods form the closest circle, most of them familiar, some strangers who stayed neutral during the battle. They’ve all come to say farewell to my mother. Blaze is standing next to Ada and her men, his horn covered in black gauze as a sign of respect. He didn’t take part in the battle, but he helped carry messages back and forth with his unique teleporting magic. I hope he’s here to stay, not because of his sparklies, but because I like him as a non-person.

I take a deep breath and use some magic to enhance my voice so all can hear me.

“Today we honour Beira, the Mother of Gods, the Queen of the Winter Realm, the Goddess who kept watch over all life from the dawn of time. She may have left her mortal body behind, but she will always keep guard over this Realm through those who’ve been touched by her grace.”

I step forward until I almost touch the pyre. I conjure a fire spiral and let it fly high into the sky. It shines down on us together with the pale winter sun.

“I, Wynter, the daughter of Beira and the new Winter Queen, will light the pyre and release my mother so magic may take her home.”

I lower the fire spiral and make it wider so it surrounds the pyre. This is the moment. Be strong, Wyn. You can do this.

I close my eyes for a moment and let the fire touch the pyre. I can’t bear to look. I lift my head and open my eyes again, watching as the first smoke begins to drift up and form a beautiful pattern on the clear sky.

I raise my voice again and recite the ancient blessing.

May the road rise to meet you;

May the wind be always at your back;