In Which Raia Sees the Ghost of Her Father

April 12, 1167

All Raia really wanted to do was sleep. She was tired and grieving and overwhelmed, and as stupid as it may have been, some small part of her thought that maybe if she just closed her eyes for a couple of hours, everything would be fine. Maybe this was all just a bad dream. Maybe when she woke, it would be days prior and her mother would still be alive.

She had spent the past while trailing after her father as he tucked in each of her siblings, as he was in a phase--at least, she hoped it was only a phase--of forgetting things. Small things, perhaps, but things nonetheless: Lonriad's extra blanket, Riona's little toy rabbit, the last verse of Viridis's lullaby. After making sure that all of her siblings had been settled properly, she figured she had no choice but to stop by her parents' bedroom--her father's bedroom, she corrected herself. The last thing they needed was for him to doze off while leaving a candle lit.

But indeed, he hadn't even gone to bed yet; he simply stood beside it, fully dressed, staring down at the mattress as if trying to decide whether it was safe to touch.

"Father?" she ventured, stepping into the room and making her way around the bed. "Father, why are you still awake?"

A few seconds passed with nothing but the heavy silence of the mind's labored attempt to translate feelings to words. Raia had mentally counted to fifteen before she was given a reply. "She died in this bed."

From the far-off tone of his voice, she couldn't tell if he was speaking to her or to himself or to some obscure presence of which she was unaware. Nevertheless, she clung to every word as he continued; she doubted neither he nor any unseen observer could be bothered to listen. "I've spent the past few nights on the couch in my study. Did you know that?"

Raia shook her head, though her father's eyes never left the bed. "You know, I've slept in this bed for years, but... never without her. It doesn't feel right to get into this bed knowing that she won't be joining me.

"I mean... she died here. I know; I was here too."

Somehow, he had aged a decade in two days--two grief-filled, sleepless days of mourning. It was painful just looking at him; her mother's corpse had appeared more alive. "Father..."

"Don't worry about me, Raia. Just get some sleep, all right?"

Sighing, Raia turned away and followed his gaze to the empty bed. What if Vera or Riona was roused from a nightmare? What if they ran here, tears streaming from their little faces, just to find that their mother was not the only one who had vanished from this room? "You need your sleep too, though. You look exhausted."

He flexed his hand, then began to massage his other wrist. "Sleep is such a task these days. I daresay I've forgotten much of the process."

"I believe it's more waiting than anything else," Raia muttered, tugging at the sleeve of her velvet mourning gown. How did one describe 'sleep'? It seemed the sort of thing one needed Tavrin for--not unlike saving one's mother.

Her father stiffened. "Waiting. I've spent two days dreading my wife's funeral; before that, I spent three days dreading her death. I can't sleep because I spend the night dreading the dawn. I'm not sure I'd give that the good name of 'waiting'." He closed his eyes, forcing himself take a few forced, seething breaths. "I'm just not really sure of anything anymore. I half-expect to cease existing every time I blink."

Raia swallowed as she turned to face her father again. She'd known he was hurting--any fool could have seen that--but he was beginning to scare her. I half-expect to cease existing... What if he wanted to cease existing? What if he grew tired of half-expecting and decided to execute the end himself? She was eleven years old; how was she supposed to be both parents to her six younger siblings? "Please try to get some rest, Father."

He crossed his arms, drumming his fingers against his bicep. "I'm sorry, baby. I probably shouldn't have said anything. I know you're in a lot of pain too."

"Don't apologize," she told him, though she couldn't decide whether or not she meant it. "I'm the eldest. If you have to talk to one of us about any of this, it should be me. The others have already been through more than they should have ever had to at their age."

"So have you," her father insisted as he pulled her in for a hug. "I don't want you worrying too much about your brothers and sisters--and certainly not about me. It's not going to be life as usual, but your mother wouldn't have wanted the bulk of the burden to fall to you."

Raia blinked, a tear breaking away from the surface of her eye and soaking her lashes. "She wouldn't have wanted it to fall to you, either. I'll have one of the guest chambers prepared for you, all right? Mother would have wanted you to try to get some sleep, at least."

Squinting, he released her, patting her on the shoulder before allowing his hand to fall listlessly to his side. "Thank you."

She nodded, but she didn't dare meet his eye. Ever since Lorn had lost his father--and then even moreso after Had had lost his mother--she'd wondered in horrified dread when it would be her turn to lose a parent. It had never occurred to her that losing one may have meant losing both.

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