Marked and forsaken
It clings to my skin, cold and bright, and as I touch her face, I feel the last warmth fade beneath my palms.
The scent of moonfire lingers there
I hold on longer than I should, pretending, foolishly, that she might open her eyes.
Kaela must sense it—her deliberate footsteps break through my thoughts, steady and soft, calling me back to the rite.
She kneels as I leave and begins her own washing.
Behind her, Dolly and Dolynara come together—Being mother’s twin-born daughters ,moving in mirrored rhythm, their motions so alike it feels like the air bends around them.
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