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Chapter Fourteen

Yelena

Stepping back onto Nightwing Pack land was difficult. But walking into Callie’s home and knowing she’s gone? That felt like a knife to the heart. I glance around the small cottage, and a wave of memories cascade over me.

The scarred kitchen table where she and I spent many a happy morning, preparing food together and laughing.

The threadbare but cozy couch in the living room where she taught me how to mix spices together and create poultices.

Even the heavy bookshelves, stuffed with books, journals, and little trinkets all hold memories for me.

This small cottage was once my haven, and without Callie, it feels empty.

I wipe a tear from my eye and move toward the bedroom. As per our custom, Callie’s body will have been prepared for the ritual by the Elders and honored pack members. I take a deep breath before entering the room.

On a basic level, I know what to expect. Her body will have been cleaned and laid out in her best dress. Special herbs and amulets will have been placed on her body, each representing an offering or a blessing. A single candle will have been left burning, alongwith incense, to cleanse the space and pave the way for her soul to move to the next plane.

I know this in my head, but my heart aches at the thought of seeing Callie in this state. These rites have been passed down through our pack for centuries. It’s how we honor our dead and return them to the Moon Goddess’s protection.

But my heart still aches with loss.

Steeling myself, I push open the door and inhale the familiar scent of herbs and incense. The curtains are drawn, allowing the afternoon sun to filter through the room.

There she is. Laid out on the bed in her favorite green dress, with sage at her feet and a moonstone pendant resting on her chest. She looks peaceful. Serene, even. Her eyes are closed, and from the doorway, she looks as if she has simply gone to sleep and will wake up at any moment now.

I approach the bed slowly, almost reverently, my footfalls muffled by the thick rug covering the wooden floor.

Sobs rip through my body as I kneel down beside her. I reach out a trembling hand to touch her, but then I hesitate.

Finally, I let my fingers gently brush the back of her hand. It’s cool and so very still. My breath comes in shudders as I press my forehead to our intertwined hands.

"Oh, Callie," I whisper, my voice choked with tears. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here to say goodbye.”

I look around, noting the small details of grief. The intricately carved wolf figurine tucked next to her palm, a tribute to our pack and her unwavering loyalty. The sprigs of lavendersprinkled around her. Callie always said lavender kept away evil spirits.

“You were so loved,” I whisper, touching the small bunches of herbs that lie on the floor next to me. “I hope you knew that.”

On the table beside the bed sat a simple clay bowl, brimming with water and a beeswax candle. I carefully reach over to light the candle, brushing against the bowl. A single moonflower floats on the surface, a symbol of the Moon Goddess’ blessings.

It gives me a small sort of peace. The knowledge that this ritual is for her. A final gift as thanks for the knowledge, care, and love she has given me throughout the years.

I light my candle and place it in the holder before repeating the words that Callie herself taught me years ago.

Daughter of the Moon, your Spirit is now free.

Guided by her Light; run with the stars

Through the shadow of the Forest;

With the whispers of the Wind;

At each rising Moon, your wisdom I’ll seek.

My voice trembles with emotion at first, but gains strength as I offer these final rites. I dip my fingers into the water and let the drops fall upon Callie’s body. Each droplet is a prayer. A memory.

A goodbye.

My heart is full of emotions, but I finish the chant and sit, my gaze fixated on the flickering light of the candle.