Page 94 of Goddess of Light

Tuonen.

His body lies sprawled on the ground, thrown from the depths like an offering—or a mockery. His skin is marred with deep gashes and searing burns, one of his horns is broken in half, jagged and raw, and his once bright eyes are dull, staring at nothing.

“Tuonen!” Lovia screams, rushing to his side. She collapses beside him, her shaking hands hovering over his chest as if afraid to touch him, afraid to confirm what she already knows. Her breath comes in gasps, sharp and ragged. “No, no, no…”

I stand frozen, the world narrowing to this single, impossible sight. My son, my blood, lies before me, lifeless. The cavern feels colder, emptier, as if the air itself mourns. Slowly, I kneel beside Lovia, my hands quivering as I reach for him.

“Tuonen,” I whisper, my voice breaking. “My boy…”

My fingers brush his face, cool and unresponsive. There is no trace of the mischievous spark that once lit his eyes, no sign of the defiance that had driven him to challenge even me. He is gone, and the weight of that truth crushes me until I fear my heart is lost to Oblivion too.

Lovia presses her hands to his chest, as if she can will his heart to beat again. “He can’t be gone,” she chokes out. “No. No, no. He can’t be. He’s Tuonen. He’s strong. He always comes back. He—” Her words dissolve into sobs, raw and desperate.

Hanna steps forward, her face pale and stricken. She kneels on Tuonen’s other side, her hands glowing faintly with golden light. “I can try,” she says, her voice tight with determination. “I can try to bring him back. Perhaps I have that power.”

I don’t stop her. I watch, my breath caught in my throat as she lays her hands on his broken body.

But nothing happens, even as she closes her eyes and hums and her hands glow with the sun’s rays.

The light can’t reach him.

There is nothing.

Nothing but death.

My son taken me, forever gone.

“Stop,” I say sharply, my voice cutting through the tension like a blade. Hanna freezes, her light flickering. “It’s too late. His soul is gone,” I say, forcing the words through the lump in my throat. “I would feel it if he were still here. He’s beyond even your power. He’s beyond this world.”

Her light fades, and she sits back, her hands falling to her lap, staring at him with empty eyes.

The soldiers around us are silent, their faces pale and somber. Rauta, my trusty hound, howls in agony, then lies down next to Tuonen and whines pitifully. Even Vellamo, despite her own pain, watches with an expression of profound sorrow. The Magician stands at a distance, his hood pulled low, galaxies swirling in his unseen gaze. For once, he offers no cryptic words, no riddles. There is only silence.

Lovia leans over Tuonen’s body, her forehead resting against his. “You can’t leave me,” she whispers. “You can’t…you promised.” Her tears fall onto his burnt and bloodstained clothes, her grief raw and unrestrained. “When we were younger, you promised you would always take care of me.”

I reach out, my hand resting on her shoulder. “Lovia,” I say softly, though my voice shakes. “He wouldn’t want you to break. He fought for us, for all of us. We have to honor that.”

She turns to me, her face streaked with tears and rage. “Honor him? How? By letting him die while we keep going? By pretending this is just another loss?”

“No,” I say firmly, though the words tear at me. “By finishing what we started. By making sure his sacrifice wasn’t in vain.”

Her anger falters, replaced by a crushing despair. She nods slowly, her head bowed. “I can’t do this without him,” she whispers.

“You can,” I say, trying to give her strength that I don’t feel. “You’re stronger than you think. And he believed in you. That’s why he fought so hard for us.”

The cavern feels impossibly quiet, the weight of Tuonen’s death pressing down on all of us. I look at Hanna, her gaze blank. Still, she steps closer, her hand brushing mine. It’s a small comfort, but it steadies me.

“We need to give him a proper burial,” Vellamo says gently. “He deserves that.”

“We do. In his home,” I tell her. “We’re taking him to Shadow’s End.”

Though the thought of laying him to rest feels unbearable.

I lift Tuonen’s body in my arms, his weight both familiar and alien. He feels lighter than he should, as if even in death he refuses to burden me. Lovia walks beside me, her steps heavy, her shoulders slumped.

The soldiers follow in silence, their heads bowed. We move toward the far end of the cavern, continuing toward the end.

CHAPTER 35