6

Silas put off continuing the next part of the story. He never would’ve gotten away with it if he hadn’t had so much work in those coming days.

“Are you going to finish the story tonight Silas?” Milo had asked. The sun was getting low.

Silas shook his head as he studied the growing clouds on the horizon. “Sorry buddy. Not tonight.”

Bedtime was a rush that night. The twins were tucked in hastily, the candles put out quickly, the bedsheets not quite tucked all the way. Adaline wasn’t completely asleep when Silas left for the mountains, and she vividly remembered him donning his overcoat and heading out into the stormy night as soon as he thought they were asleep. She’d crawled to the window and watched his lantern disappear down the path. She would wonder where he’d gone for years, but she’d never ask.

Silas trudged along the path, against the wind. The hike up the mountain to the Temple was harder than when he’d done it last. It was a different set of muscles than the ones he used in the Quarry.

At the top of the path stood a woman, clad in a dress that was simple but still indicative of high status. Her hair messily flowed down her shoulders; it looked like it may have been tied up earlier in the night.

“You’re late,” She said.

“My apologies. I’m getting older,” Silas said, but he elicited no sympathy. “Who is it?”

“Dila.”

“Oh, the poor thing.”

“Yes, it’s her first death too.”

“How was the funeral?”

“Fine. Probably only took a couple years off the reincarnation process, though.” She scratched her head. “I miss funerals with wine. How long do you think Esid will be?”

“A couple more decades, at least. Unless you miss wine with the strength of an imprisoned God.”

She sighed. “I wish I did.”

The woman handed Silas a small urn and a small statue. Silas held one in each hand.

Thunder rumbled in the distance and rain started to accompany the harsh winds.

“I’ve got to go,” The woman said. “Don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

“I’ll see you next time.”

“Unless I’m feeling lazy. Then I’ll just send someone else.” The woman stepped down a few stairs, then transformed into a scarlet bird. “By the way, this place really needs repairs.” She brought her wings down and took off into the sky.

Silas took the urn and placed it on one of the shelves in the back of the temple, next to the smallest shrines. As he passed the biggest statues at the front on his way out, he checked each of their urns too, but none of them showed any signs of disturbance.

He was lucky, he thought, that the Gods chose to send Etune when they needed some ashes delivered. Anyone else would be appalled by the state the temple was in, and Silas had no intention of fixing it.