Lockwren got the letter the day it happened.

She fell into silence. The silence lasted a minute, an hour, a day, four. Zanael showed up on that fourth day, worried about her sudden lack of communication. He didn't expect to see her still holding the letter, sat at her table, looking out of the window. For the first time since they were children, she looked unkempt - she likely hadn't changed in those four days, her hair was a tangled mess, and she looked beyond exhausted.

Gently, he eased the letter out of her grip, placing his hand in its place.

"There are no words, Lockwren. But I'm here with you, okay?"

Her gaze met his then, tired and lost. He didn't often see her cry, it was very foreign to him. For their entire lives, she was the unbreakable one. He pulled her to him and soon enough felt her shoulders shake as she sobbed in his arms.

He'd never seen her so shattered.

"Have you eaten? Drank water?" He knew she hadn't by her silence. "OK, come on, come with me."

Getting her to eat was difficult, but he noticed subtle changes as she did. A smile at a comment, a nod to answer a question. He made sure she got rest, she ate, she took care of herself, holding her when she needed, and giving her the space she kept asking for. 

It was only later that day, when her tears had dried for the moment, that she started acting deliberately. She went to a dusty chest in her room and found old books, tomes she swore to him she would never open again.

They were brimming with dark magic.

"What are those.... no, I thought you gave that up."

"I'm going to kill them all, Zanael."

"Locke-"

"Everyone who made the decision to send the students out to that battlefield. Everyone who's words and actions took my son from me."

"You knew it was a possibility-"

"It never should have been!" She yelled, eyes flashing red.

The argument came to a stop when they heard a knock on the door. Zanael sighed and got up to open it as Lockwren turned away, catching her breath. He wasn't expecting to see Milo behind the door, with a small bouquet of light blue flowers.

"Zanael, hello... is Lockwren here?"

Zanael sighed. "Milo, this might be a bad time..."

"I just need a moment. Please."

Zanael hadn't heard Lockwren appear beside him. She was staring at Milo, who handed the flowers to her. "The Morningstar field burned, I tried getting those, but there's nothing left..."

Lockwren handed the flowers to Zanael as the two fell into an embrace, safe yet desperate. They stood together silently, though the weight of their exchange could have broken the world.

They mirrored each other's pain, and somehow, that resulted in a sense of comfort.

"Please come in", Lockwren insisted. Zanael exhaled as the two walked into the little house. “I don’t have much, I can make you some tea… I’m sure he left some things for you but I don’t know.. I haven’t…”

Milo shook his head, not ready for any more gifts or last words from Corym at that moment. He had already spent far too long hesitating at her door, afraid to be in his home at all. "Lockwren, ma'am, I'm here with a truth. One I told him, but he couldn't get himself to tell you."

"... don't test me, Mr. Anani."

Milo winced. "He- he had a theory about my nightmares-"

"That you were Leitar. I am aware."

"He was right. Yet I only realized this the day I got the letter. For a month before I... I kept having nightmares of the battle going wrong. They felt premonitory but I was too afraid he was right about what I was... I told him about them some time before the battle. He was aware that... that it was not only a possibility, but a probability. I asked him if he told you, but he was afraid you'd fall back into dark magic and do something that would destroy your chances at a peaceful future."

"... you mean you knew this would happen? You both knew this would happen, and you did did not tell me?"

"I asked him not to go over and over, I couldn’t even get myself to believe there was any truth to the nightmares, but I guess I was in denial, I-"

Zanael's breath caught as he watched Lockwren cast a spell. A ghostly hand was now at Milo's throat, tightening. Her eyes had turned entirely black, as they did when she was lost to magic. Tears streaked down her cheeks.

"Lockwren stop! It's not his fault!"

"He's one of them, Zanael, he helped cause this! He knew and did nothing!" Lockwren tightened the spell at Milo's throat despite his panic, her voice breaking through the pure, blinding hate.

"Do you really think you could have stopped him!? Even for a moment? You know he had his own motivations, do you think Corym would ever forgive you for this!?"

She blinked. Lockwren knew exactly how much the boy at her table meant to her son. She had seen Corym start smiling again once they became an item, saw the fear hidden behind the warm smiles and soft touches the last time they were both at her table for tea. He was the one her son chose.

Zanael was right, Corym's spirit would never forgive her if she killed his Milo.

And yet, it would be so, so easy to do just that.

Lockwren exhaled, loosened her grip on the spell, and slowly returned to herself, dropping her head in her hands. Milo struggled for air, but didn't leave.

"He knew me better than my rage does," she muttered. "You were brave to tell me, and you did well to tell him. He needed the belief that we could sleep again someday."

Zanael brought Milo some water and checked his throat for any signs of damage. He apologized when the boy winced. "Are you ok? Your throat might be tender for a few days, unfortunately, but it doesn't look like permanent damage was made."

Milo nodded, wondering if Zanael was the one who taught Corym to heal. "Please believe me, Lockwren, deciding to tell him was one of the most difficult decisions of my life. And telling you was the scariest thing I've done, but I couldn't not do it. You needed to know."

Lockwren stayed silent for a moment, looking at Milo, impressed by his bravery. He stayed. She had tried to kill him, but he stayed.

"Come with me Milo. I want to teach you to find spirits around you."

"I-... what?"

"You'll see. I'm sorry for that spell."

Milo winced. "I ah... it's alright."

Zanael knew the look on his friend's face. Lockwren’s smile was nothing more than a flimsy mask. Yet, being fae, she couldn't lie. She was sorry, and yet, a part of her seemed muted. She had had a taste of dark magic for the first time in over 20 years. 

He knew she wanted another.

And he didn't know if he could stop her next time.

------------------------------------

“Close your eyes, Milo, and take a breath.” 

Milo was sitting in the graveyard with Lockwren, near his family’s mausoleum. Night had set, and the aurora were dancing amongst the stars overhead.

“Are you sure this works?” 

“I’ve been doing this to speak to ones I’ve lost. I haven’t tried with Corym yet… some spirits take time before they’re ready to be with us again.” 

Milo opened his eyes. “Are they resentful?” 

“Eyes, Milo. And no. It takes some time for them to go from being shattered to entire enough for them to reach us.” 

Milo bit the inside of his cheek at the idea. “So... I mean, why are we here at night?” 

“Corym and his father believed that stars are passed spirits. And you know what we in Holn say about the auroras.” 

Milo nodded. His mother had always told him that the lights that illuminated the night sky amongst the stars were spirits that reached down to them. Whenever he saw a particularly bright flash near a planet, Milo liked to think his sister was watching over him. 

“Yeah. Yeah I know.” 

“Good. Now, the process is a little vague. Think of the one you wish to find and open your soul to theirs.” 

Milo couldn’t help but let out a short laugh. It sounded so… spiritual. He believed he had a soul, yes. But he didn’t exactly believe that it was something he could control. If anything, Ashtai seemed to have more of a soul than he did. It wasn’t like his mind or his hands or anything else he could control. It was something entirely different, something that only took form, in a sense, after the body could no longer host it. 

Milo was unlucky enough to have two souls in his own body - one of which wasn’t even his. 

And yet, he tried. He opened his… soul? His heart? Whatever it was, he opened himself to find his sister’s spirit. He missed Norah constantly - she was the first person he mourned, his first best friend. 

“Do you feel anything?” 

He shook his head. “I don’t understand what I’m- oh.” 

Milo’s hand flew up to his face, covering his nose and mouth in surprise. He didn’t know how to explain what he felt, not entirely. He felt what he could only describe as a deep, comforting sense of familiarity. Something about it brought him back to when he was quite young, and somebody in his class teased him because he noticed he would blush whenever a particular boy would talk to him. When he found Norah in the library while he was holding back tears. When she took him to a quiet place to talk about it together until the tears had stopped, until he understood something new about himself and his affections, until she needed to leave again. She gave him some sweets and hugged him tightly, tickling his sides, making sure he was smiling again. 

“Just remember, if anyone hurts you again, they’ll have to deal with me.” 

Milo chuckled. “Okay. Do you have more sweets?” 

Norah rolled her eyes and gave him the last of the candies their aunt had made. She hugged him once more before rushing off to class. That night, the sat in the garden, talking about boys and the planets and the dreams they had the night before.

Somehow, there at his mausoleum, he felt… all of that. He felt his hurt from years ago as he felt his current pain. He felt the confusion about everything he believed about himself, and, somehow, the same warmth from his sister’s support and presence. 

It was as if she was comforting him in that moment. Like she was right there with him once again, trying to get him to smile.

“Guiding winds take me…” Milo muttered, his eyes welling with tears. He was startled when he felt a hand on his arm, forgetting Lockwren was there at all. 

“I know, it’s a lot to take in, the first time. Unfortunately they can’t stay very long…” 

Milo shook his head, already feeling Norah’s spirit fade from around him. “It’s… stars above, I needed that. I miss her.” 

Lockwren took his hands. “We all need comfort in times like this. I am happy I taught you this.”

“I don’t know how to thank you…” 

Lockwren smiled at him. “Just say hi to my son for me whenever your spirits meet again. He chose you, Milo. If you ever need anything, if I can ever help you, you'll only need to ask."