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The sun was high, but the temple felt cold, not the kind of cold that came with wind or winter but the kind that settled in your soul and stayed there. The kind that made you feel so...empty.
Maia's body lay at the center of the courtyard, wrapped in white linen, her hands folded over her chest. Flowers had been placed around her, lavender, white lilies, and the pale blue blossoms she used to grow in the temple garden and a few more that Xander was sure didn't exist in his world.
Vimea stood at the head of the pyre, her voice steady as she recited the rites, but her hands trembled with every word as she kept stopping herself from sobbing.
"May the stars guide you." She said, "May the gods receive you. May your soul find rest in the light."
