Epilogue

They won the war.

After the celebration died down, they met at the apple tree. Severa climbed up first. For habit's sake, she lowered her hand for Noire. Her lips itched to pull up when a slim hand slipped into hers. She helped her find her footing, and together, they reached the top of the tree.

They had seen a world scarred with war, set aflame and blackened with the ashes of their dead. Their memories were seared with the sharp intake of breath as steel pierces flesh, and the silent exhale as life deserts the eyes. That part of their lives would never wash away. It marked them; a Brand.

But the storms of their pasts abated as Severa and Noire overlooked the same green rolling hills, the same warm bark under their palms, and the same sweet scent of apple blossoms wafting in the breeze.

Together, they had survived. Not as sisters by blood, but as something even more precious.