The morning sunlight pierced through the window, disturbing my already aching body. My head throbbed, and I had no desire to move, let alone be awake. I pulled the blanket over my face, shielding myself from the brightness. Determined to sleep as much as possible, I heard voices coming from the living room. My grandmother seemed to be receiving more visitors in a few hours than we usually did in a month.
Despite the pain in my legs from various injuries, I forced myself to get up. The cold floor intensified the ache, but I needed to join the gathering. I walked to the dresser, grabbed a brush and some oil, and quickly tied my hair into a ponytail. Then, I rummaged through the closet for something presentable yet comfortable. A white shirt and long overalls would suffice. I was barefoot, but I hoped my lack of manners would be forgiven.
As I opened the door, I heard a woman's voice—Carmen, once again—insisting that my grandmother call me. My grandmother stubbornly refused. I stepped into the room before she could argue further.
"Good morning," I greeted politely, glancing at Carmen and then at my grandmother. "I understand the importance of rest, but the memorial ceremony for the boys won't begin without me, right?"
Carmen smiled faintly, perhaps amused by my veiled reference to last night's events. I clenched my hands nervously, waiting for any reprimand.
_I believe our discussion ends here. She is already up and feeling quite well, as you can see._
_She is quite strong, Deborah. She'll manage a short walk and return safely, I assure you._
_I'll put on my boots._ There was no room for further questioning. I went to my room to grab my less worn-out boots for the ceremony. I heard my grandmother get up and follow me, but she didn't enter the room. She walked past the door and headed to the kitchen. As I tied my shoes, she passed by again, and I could tell they were murmuring something.
When I entered the living room, a bag with na apple and some cookies awaited me. I glanced at my grandmother, took it without complaining, hugged her, and followed Carmen outside.
I didn't look back, but I knew she was still watching us as we moved away.
_Your grandmother is very caring, Catarina. If you hadn't gotten up, I'm not sure I could have convinced her to leave._
_My grandmother is overly cautious sometimes,_ I replied, struggling with my words.
_If you were my granddaughter, I'd do the same._ She looked at me sympathetically, trying to ease my embarrassment. _These days here aren't the friendliest. Those who have family want to protect them. There's nothing wrong with that._
She returned her gaze to the path ahead, maintaining her calm demeanor as we walked. Disturbing this peace with questions about last night might make my day worse, so I decided to let her be with her thoughts. She didn't seem as stern in moments like this, which made me wonder if she felt lonely without close family or relatives. An orphan since my age, she had apparently been afraid to cross the river and the forest to follow her brother to Golksel. She'd been here ever since, and that said a lot about her posture.
We were approaching the center of the village, and the first thing I noticed was Sabrina and Hugo. They were there, behaving naturally, and Carmen hadn't seemed to notice their nighttime escapade. I joined Tales, who was sorting through some hunting gear that families had contributed for the ceremony. In cases of common deaths, the body was placed in the river to be carried away by the current, and only close relatives witnessed this final moment.
However, losses like those from yesterday received ceremonies honoring the departed.
"Have they decided who will light the torches today?" I asked Tales as I helped him.
"Carmen hasn't decided yet, but I believe it'll be the olders, as usual. Are you ready?" The boy nudged me lightly, and the pain made me wince.
Among the survivors, the oldest were Hugo, Uriel, Clarisse, and me. Although I was relatively young compared to them, the recent loss elevated me to a position I truly didn't want.
"Will Uriel be able to carry the torch?" I deflected the conversation.
"They said he wasn't injured, just unconscious," Tales shrugged.
"Hey!" Henrique approached, and I smiled at him as he drew near. "Is everyone okay?"
"It was a scare, but it'll pass," Thales replied.
"Thales, I..." I couldn't form the sentence. His coldness tightened my stomach.
"Sometimes I think you're the pathetic version of our captain, you know?" Henrique responded, staring seriously at the young man.
"Hey, sorry, I'm not good with words," he said, distancing himself. "I think I'd better walk a bit before tensions escalate too much. We all feel it, but we can't keep mourning forever. Our existence doesn't work that way."
Feeling a bit dizzy, I sat down to eat. Despite my lack of appetite, I needed sustenance. I was weak and drained, and I didn't want to delay the others on our return journey. I was grateful my grandmother had thought to send food. The people around me seemed to appreciate the idea too, as they quickly devoured the cookies.
"Well, Clarisse, Catarina, Uriel, and Hugo, take the torches. The rest of you, carry the items we've sorted. Follow the order I mentioned, maintaining spacing between the torches, until you reach the Village pyre. There, we'll burn the belongings. Any questions?" Carmen asked, and since everyone understood, we began our procession.
The pyre stood in the opposite direction from the quarry, at the center of the Valley. Although it had no permanent residents, it was never empty. The site served as a location for various ceremonies—witnesses gathered for pacts, weddings, and tributes. For me, seeing outsiders there was always strange because, in my case, encountering them outside meant loss.
The journey had barely begun, and my arms already protested the weight of the torch. But I had to endure until we reached the center. We were doing the bare minimum by merely walking to the Valley. Soon, Carmen started na ancient song, used during funeral processions. The beautiful morning was suddenly infused with melancholy, making the loss even more vivid.
The lyrics of the song were sung by everyone, and I reflected on the verses that unfolded na ancient story about that place. A single brave and courageous people who ventured into the forest to survive, unafraid and undeterred, even in the face of death—the forest's legacy was etched in scars and stories. My eyes welled up, but I pushed back the urge to cry.
Regardless of who caused this existence, survival was ingrained in us. Physically and mentally, we needed immense strength to endure and master the forces that shaped the auroras. I had never met anyone who could control the Golden Aurora, but Mirana's strength and D'haime's brilliance were my closest chances of avoiding further losses while straddling these two worlds. Despite my grandmother's advice, I considered caution my ally. But how could I coexist with more of that life? After all, the closer to the river, the more dangers the forest presented. Even if my chances of being chosen were slim, my chances of dying tragically were much higher.
As we neared the descent into the Valley, the stone statues of Mirana and Caius emerged among the trees—a reminder that we were approaching a solemn place. We walked briskly, the sun rising and the heat intensifying. Carmen decided to stop for a rest, and I silently thanked her. I sat alone until I heard Clarisse's scream.
"What's happening?" Carmen interrupted the fight between Clarisse and Sabrina, but with little success. Sabrina held the knives she carried pointed at Clarisse's throat, and in a sudden move, Clarisse disarmed her.
"Are you crazy? What do you think you're doing?" Carmen demanded. "Clarisse, what is this?"
"She's hiding one of the daggers..."
"They belong to my friend! If you don't want to remember her, I do! You have no right..."
"I know you've tried to steal them before! Aren't you ashamed of exploiting her death to get what you want?" Clarisse's voice rose, a rare occurrence in front of Carmen. Tears welled up in her eyes, revealing her emotions.
"No more arguments! Take the knife if that's what you want, and both of you, quiet down and keep your distance! We've had enough losses," Carmen declared, and each of us sat on opposite sides.