“Ryland?” Chaz’s voice comes over to me, and I look up from the tree I’m leaning against to see him walking over. His gaze drifts from me, to the stone wall next to me, and down to my hands. Blood drips from my knuckles onto the grass, but the pain is almost soothing at this point. Laura, the only real parent I have ever had, is dead. Her soul is at peace, but all I feel is anger. His hands are tucked into his pockets, his blond hair pushed all over the place. He stops next to me, silently supporting me without saying anything. I’m glad Cassandra didn’t follow me, I couldn’t deal with anyone near me for a while. I’m not sure I even want Chaz near me.

“Is she with Hunter?” I ask, needing to know my brother isn’t alone.

“Of course she is, but I’m sure she will be on her way to find you soon,” he says, and I laugh hoarsely.

“I’m in no state to see her,” I reply.

“Do you think she would judge you?” he asks,

“No, but she deserves better,” I respond.

“You are better,” he tells me, his voice firm, but I don’t know if I can completely believe him.

“When we die, do you believe we go to the sea god and then have peace?” I ask Chaz, wanting to know his opinion.

“Come with me, I want to show you something,” Chaz says and walks off. I follow him, ignoring the stares of people we pass. He opens a door near the entrance to the mountains, though not one I’ve ever entered before.

“What is this place?” I ask Chaz when I follow him into the oval cave. There are hundreds of lit and unlit candles on the floor, high lightening the drawings on the walls.

“History of Calais, more specifically, of the gods. These are some of the earliest drawings anyone knows of,” Chaz explains and lifts a candle up, holding it to the wall to my left. There are drawings of a man walking out of the water, streams of water flying everywhere. Next to it is a drawing of a man kissing the forehead of a baby lying in a mother’s arms.

“I’ve examined these drawings many times, and this is what they say about death,” Chaz says, nodding his head right to the middle of the cave. There’s a drawing of a woman on the floor, an outline of a body flying out of her. The next drawing shows a choice, with two men holding out their hands. One looks like he is in the sea, and the other looks like he is in flames.

“This is the sea god, but who is that?” I ask, pointing at the man in the flames.

“The sea god wasn’t the only god born, they say he has a brother. The god of souls, that is who is standing there,” he explains to me. I’ve never heard of the god of souls, but it would make sense there is more than one god if it’s possible to have one.

“More gods? Don’t we have enough problems with just the one?” I muse.

“Yes,” he chuckles, “but there isn’t proof that the god of souls actually exists, just drawings.”

“What does the god of souls do?” I ask.

“Drags the evil and undeserving souls into the deepest fires so that they may never be re-born, never know peace,” he says, and there’s a cold chill in the air as I think on his words. It’s probably wrong that the first thing I think of is how I hope when my father dies, he meets the god of souls.

“And the deserving?” I ask.

“Know eternal peace, safe in the hands of the sea god,” he says, and I nod. “People come here to light a candle in memory of those they have lost. Perhaps this could be your way of saying goodbye?” he suggests.

I think over his words and walk to the middle of the room, falling to my knees on the cold stone. I pick up an unlit candle, lighting it with the tip of another and placing it down in the middle of so many others.

“I can only remember you in my earliest memories, Laura, not my mother, not my father, or even Hunter. Just memories of you holding me as I cried, of you telling me silly fairy tales, and even times you told me off for pushing my luck. You were a true parent to me, and you deserved a long life of peace. I hope the sea god is with you now, taking you somewhere peaceful. We will see each other again one day. I love you, Laura, rest well with the gods and give them trouble with that stick of yours,” I say, roughly wiping away a tear that falls down my cheek before standing up.

“I’m going to miss getting hit with that stick. I hope she has a stick in the afterlife and hits the sea god with it for keeping Cassandra from us for so long,” Chaz says, making me laugh a little. Chaz did the right thing bringing me here, giving me the chance to say goodbye, and to remember Laura as she truly was.

“Thank you for bringing me here, it’s just what I needed. You are a good friend, Chaz,” I say, and he chuckles.

“Friend? Or more like a brother who’s not related by blood?” he inquires, walking to the door and opening it as I smile.

“Brother, then.” I walk past him, waiting for him to shut the door behind me.

“Now, let’s go back to my room and sort your hands out before our girl finds you in this state,” he says, patting my shoulder.