eight_Balance

Black Star

\\

There are so many lost stars in Raskogr that it takes you several nights to bear them all. You carefully arrange them in the sky: humans, kindred, and a bright warrior. When you find the souls of your father and his clan, you hold them inside you for safekeeping, next to the demon you take from Maka.

\\

The sun rises one morning and you are yourself again.

Your soul is still linked to Tsubaki in a way that will never come undone, and you will return when the sun sets, becoming the Nightwalker with her once more to take the dead to heaven. Until then, you trek through the forest, heading for a bed in a tiny room that you know is so much warmer than Death's Table had ever been.

Maka

\\

"Whose horse is this?" you hear Marie say.

"He's not one of ours," says Stein. "Looks like Aranei stock."

Marie hums. "Does he still have the goods?"

"No. He does not 'have the goods'."

"Drat. I'd love to breed a few and use the Empress's own horses to storm down the palace."

Eyes sliding open, you are met with the ceiling of Stein's hut, feeling vaguely uncomfortable. It takes a long, peculiar moment to realize you are cold.

Taking a shaking, hopeful breath, you search for the demon god in you, but there is nothing, his absence leaving your soul feeling feathery and light. Sitting up in a pile of furs and quilts, you see that the door to Stein's hut is cracked open, unable to completely shut because the latch has been warped by Marie's strength. A horse breeding discussion carries on the chill air, slipping through the crack.

You slide your feet off the cot and down to the floor, but as you pull the furs away, you pause to stare at your hands- it's been so long since you've seen them that you hardly recognize them. You find your shoes and pull them on, the mundanity of the act somewhat dreamlike. Standing and making your way to the entrance, you feel as if you're floating when you place your unburned hand on the door and quietly pull it open.

Outside, a fresh snow has fallen, the sun glinting off its surface like a jewel. To your left, you see Marie facing away, gesturing to a horse that has wandered to the hut. Opposite of her, Stein sips coffee from a steaming mug that has melded to his hand. He sees you over Marie's shoulder but makes no gesture or form of acknowledgement save the little glowing twist of the smoke escaping his eye, pointing you around the back of the hut.

You blink, looking to the right and finding god-sized paw prints in the snow. They lead you around the hut, the sounds of laughter and growling reaching your ears.

The wolf gods of Raskogr play, kicking snow to the air as they wrestle and tackle each other. Soul is as white as his brother, the catcher gleaming on his neck when Wes smacks his face into the snow with a paw.

You laugh.

"Maka!" Soul says, shaking snow off his nose. He bounds for you at an alarming speed, but slides to a stop before you, snuffling your face. "There you are."

You don't know what to say- you are so joyed that he is alive, that you are alive to see him alive- and you swallow a lump in your throat before you take your hands and gently touch the sides of his face.

The giant wolf squints. "Ah- your hands are freezing."

His fur is soft under your fingers. Hot tears spilling from your eyes, and you're so shocked to feel them that you let him go to wipe them away. Soul then turns into smoke, human hands reaching up to help you dry your face.

Your mouth falls open, eyes wide with astonishment. "You-"

He nods, the corner of his mouth picking up in a smile.

"But-"

"I didn't let it go," he says, red eyes looking into yours briefly before frowning at all the tears still bubbling over your eyes. He diligently wipes them away with his thumbs. "Being human."

"But you hate humans," you choke out.

Soul shrugs the tiniest bit. "Not all of them," he mutters. "I told you it is difficult to hate you."

You screw your watery eyes shut, biting your lip and covering the tops of his hands with yours, feeling his warmth on your face.

Somewhat awkwardly, Soul slides his hands away to wrap his arms around you, like you had done for him, warding winter's chill with his body. Over his shoulder, you see Wes tilting his head to the side, tongue lolling. And stepping out out of the forest behind the wolf god is Crona, a tawny bird perched on one of his antlers.

Thane

\\

Your left arm is missing. The lopsidedness of your body is alarming, but Ox, Harvar, and Blair support you, so you think you will be able to manage.

Your father is dead and half of his town is demolished. You mourn in your twenty-second year as you watch the townsfolk stack the many corpses for a funeral pyre. Kimial, Arachne's now former Loresinger, has a skill for healing, and tends to the stump of your arm.

"She'll keep coming," the woman tells you, wrapping your shoulder with a roll of linen Jacqueline had scrounged from the rubble of the city. "With so much of the Clan dead, she will soon be even more powerful, and will come for the Nightwalker and Iron Town."

You nod. "We must rebuild quickly. But cleanly, without the blood of Raskogr." You wince as Kimial sings something that makes your shoulder sting and tingle. "I will give the kindred all the support I can," you say, looking over the cold heap of the forge towards the forest.

\\

At dawn, you are trying to tie your sash with your right hand and your teeth when you hear the familiar sound of your window creaking open, the eastern sun painting your room in reds and yellows.

"Need a hand, my lord?"

Pulling the sash out of your mouth, you slowly look over your shoulder to see him smiling broadly, the heavens bright in the sky of his eyes.