The Sentinels

24: Loss

"In life we have

what in death we miss

In death we see

what in life we are blind to

For pride is not always pride

and greed is not always greed

We drench ourselves in wealth

yet still hunger for more

Only when we lose

do we know what has been lost."

Emmet started his poem alone, but everyone spoke along once he reached the second verse. His posture was strained and stiff as he stood over Derran's burial. The round radius of dirt was a stark contrast to the grassland that surrounded it. Debrova and her sister had found quite a few little flowers to add to the edge of the burial—framing it in small, white, tear-shaped artistry. It was beautiful, despite its meagreness. In proper burials the radius was so full with all sorts of plants that there was barely any dirt to be seen at all. But we made do with what we had and it was picturesque nonetheless.

We all proceeded to sing the burial song, a song that spoke of love, laughter and loss. It had hopes and wishes weaved into the lyrics and served as a companion to the afterlife, a place we knew little about.

According to the council, life continued after death but in a different place with family and friends who'd passed on earlier. The song helped those passing to get there safely and to a place they'd imagined their whole lives.

The afterlife was like the masterpiece of an artist who'd been painting his whole life. That was how we viewed it, anyway.

Those who painted with dark colors ended up living in a dark masterpiece of their own creation. Those who painted with love and vibrance, lived on in equally beautiful colors.

It made me wonder where my mother would go. What her masterpiece looked like. Would she be reunited with our father? Would we end up there, too?

Would we ever be a family again?

Cora and Emmet both held each other, silently sobbing as they mourned their friend. I stood next to Reece and Dante, who had his arm draped around Kendra.

"I didn't know you shifters had such similar rituals to us," I heard Dante whisper to Kendra, pride swelling in my chest.

We shifters were nothing like humans.

Though we didn't have much religion, we did have rituals for the most important events in life. They weren't only about drinking strange substances and having fun—they were about something bigger than us. They were about life, being thankful, hope and kindness. They had meaning.

And every ritual—or gathering, as we called them—had its own poem, song or prayer.

Something about Dante's observation made me think back to the instance his twin had walked past the main doors to the Iarhus. Its frame was covered in ritual-symbols and, as a new resident, I would have expected it to be something to at least acknowledge. But he had walked in without much thought. Even then I'd wondered.

"Have you ever been to Everett Valley before?" I asked, seemingly out of the blue, and turned to Dante. He turned his attention towards me and had an unreadable expression on his face.

Then he tilted his head slightly. "Why do you ask?"

"Because. You just said you have similar rituals as we do. Our Iarhus is covered in ritual-symbols and I remember your brother Ryker not taking note of them at all. I would expect an outsider to at least acknowledge their existence, as I can't imagine the rest of Espheros being as out-dated as Everett Valley is. For any normal outsider it should have at least been worth a glance."

A smirk crept onto Dante's face, giving him a cocky glow. He even scoffed slightly. "You're smarter than you look," he said, somewhat impressed.

More pride swelled in my chest, though it wasn't directed to my race but instead, I was proud of myself. Though also offended he pegged me as stupid.

"I need to spend more time with Emmet, as it seems, he's rubbing off on you," Reece butted in. "So you've been to Everett Valley. When?" Reece asked, inserting himself into the conversation.

It was the first time Reece actively sought a conversation with one of the brothers. Even Kendra turned to us, her interest peaked.

Dante sighed. "I'm not supposed to tell you too much. Reagan wants all of this to be explained in Polla'Nisia, where no one could be listening," he started. Sighing again, more deeply, he continued. "But, to quench your thirst for answers, which I am sympathetic with, I shall answer you this."

He looked around, as if to check if anyone was around but the pack. "We are much older than you. And Everett Valley used to be our breeding-place. The Iarhus was a hatchery, that's why it's entirely made of wood."

Staring at him, I waited for him to explain why that was supposed to make sense. Why would a hatchery need to be made of wood?

As if Emmet had read my mind, he too joined in on the conversation with Cora hunched underneath his arm. "Wood stores warmth but doesn't conduct it well. Means that when heat enters, it takes a long time to leave. And considering dragons breathe fire, I suspect their hatchlings, their eggs, need high temperatures over a longer period of time to feel comfortable until they hatch. Embryos can die if exposed to the wrong temperatures."

When I glanced at Dante, I saw him squint his eyes at Emmet slightly. I felt wonder and intrigue slither onto my radar, primarily coming from Dante.

For people like Cora and Derran, Emmet was Emmet. For anyone who didn't know him, he was an enigma many had tried to figure out. How did one explain the ability to remember every thing he'd ever learned? There was not a single occurrence where Emmet couldn't recall the smallest details of any event in his life.

It was like Emmet's brain was in reality an endlessly long library, filled with books that each contained situations and experiences he'd lived through. And whenever he needed to answer something, he would just swoosh down the library, open the relevant book and recite its contents. I wondered if his mind worked anything like I imagined it did.

Where I had an ocean, did Emmet have books? Or moving pictures that swam before his eyes, letting him relive a memory in third person?

Emmet had never explained to me properly how his gift worked for him. But in truth, I'd never even asked. I just always assumed he simply knew and that was the end of it.

Reece's gift, on the other hand, was much more complicated. It was built in a similar way as our mother's gift—she had the ability to borrow any abnormality she wanted. If someone she came across happened to have the unique ability to fore-tell the future, and my mother found interest in it, she could touch the person and take her gift from her for a few days. As far as I knew, it would wear off, but mother had never been keen on answering any questions about herself.

The only reason I even knew was because she'd done it with my own gift and Reece's. I remembered not being able to sense anyone's emotions for at least a week.

It had been the most boring week of my life.

"We should get going. Warn Reagan, Tyrion and Ryker about the three traitors. Who knows what other tricks they have up their sleeves," Dante said then and turned to walk away from the burial-site. Kendra followed suit.

When the pack barely moved a muscle, Reece's voice boomed through the circle. "You heard him. Let's go."